There, at the bright edges of her open face, flickers just the barest trace of irritation. It's a minor thing—a briefly furrowed brow, a slight downward quirk at the corner of her mouth. And then the line of her chin rises, as do her eyebrows. The effect is some kind of lofty self satisfaction, an adopted sense of moral superiority which doesn't suit her.

"I've been informed. Mister Holden told me as much as he knew. Something about you acting as a double agent and trading information of our whereabouts and movements to the Ambassador, I believe. Though really, Mister Dickerson, I hardly see how that has any bearing on this conversation. Unless of course you mean to make it a point upon which our association must stick."