[Palamedes sips his water with slightly more gusto, to stop his expression from doing anything he doesn't want it to do while he has to sit here and listen to the words 'Empire' and 'Emperor'. He knows, of course, that Ortus is past the point of blind fealty, so it's not that, but— ugh. Just ugh; he's sick and tired of having to muddle through bullshit about Emperor this and 'oh no we have to remain vigilant' that— do they? Do they, really?

He doesn't say anything. Ortus' vigilance remains with the Ninth, this is plain, and so he need not tell Ortus something obvious like "engaging is dangerous." It's been a long couple weeks, in that regard.

Instead, he hums, drumming his fingers on the side of the glass.]

The people here, the locals, deserve better than what we've been giving them; I'm starting there. I think; it's already been started, but I'm contributing. I spend mornings in the Lumenarium and afternoons at the Sanctuary; volleyball is three days per week at the orphanage...

[He shrugs; these are the things that keep him busy, but as a whole package,] This is it for me, I think, and I don't mean that as fatalist as it sounds. I won't leave this place without Viktor, barring a brief jaunt to go pick up Cam and the rest of the Sixth if the opportunity arises, so— what I'm up to is putting down roots, here.

[He raises his glass in mock-toast, for quitting imperialism and doing a little treason by enjoying it. Hooray.]

I'm moving on; he never liked me, anyway.