"I have thought on this. Is it a price worth paying?"

That child from the favela. Are you lost? Seeing her later with burn scars across her face...

And that was one child. How many has this planet buried? She steels herself against a swell of nausea, chin lifting.

"And I see what is happening here. It is not the same. This is not my home, and Cetaganda is not Vishkar, but there are enough similarities that it troubles me."

An understatement, perhaps, but she doesn't feel like being particularly dramatic at the moment.