[Orga doesn't even have anything close to the whole picture. When McGillis had lent help to deal with the Dawn Horizon Corps, he had given Orga the impression that it was on behalf of Gjallarhorn as a larger, singular entity. That had apparently not been the entire truth, as the Arianhrod Fleet had saw fit to harry them as soon as they had arrived on the scene.

He'd been rushing them along at the beginning regardless... Tch. Orga should've suspected something like that.

Fareed's scheme was more transparent to him now, as was the reasons why the most powerful fleet in Gjallarhorn's number would oppose it. But as far as they were concerned, Tekkadan had been a one-time ally; it's not as though he had made his agreement public. Their further interference, then, was nothing but a confusion to him. And a vast frustration.

Mika concedes further, unloading the gun. Orga, satisfied, looks away from him, knowing he would bare fangs no further. That's one thing dealt with, at least for now. He's going to have to talk with Mika about it more later, to make sure he understood.

His gaze sharpens a bit as the name is mentioned.] He's here? [That would complicate things. Does their agreement even persist here? Orga's gut instinct is no, not when either aspect of it was so far out of reach, not when they had the work of this witch to be doing instead. But the fact that lines and divisions could be drawn so easily and dangerously between them would simply be a wound left to fester if not dealt with promptly.]

Well, that's the long of short of it. We're going to need to figure out some kinda truce. The reasons we were fighting back home don't exist here. [Whatever reasons they were... Orga's still not exactly clear on those? Rustal's never bothered to contact him.]

So, Juli, [he says, leaning a shoulder against the corner he had been at a short while ago, chin lifted a bit as he asks,] am I welcome here, or not?