Verahl:
"Take a seat," Verahl ordered as he leaned forward in his chair, sliding it slightly closer to the desk. With one hand he beckoned to the seat in front of him, while the other gripped a lit cigar. As David shifted into the chair, Verahl took a drag from his cigar, and let the smoke slowly creep from his mouth. "Do you know why you're here?"
David began to speak, but was promptly cut off by Verahl before being able to even string two words together.
"You're here because within the space of a few hours, you've managed to get into two fights, one resulting in lasting injury, and piss off almost half the company. The only person I've seen more successful than you at this was a Salarian we once had," Verahl's voice sounded happy, almost cheery, but the feigned enjoyment was quickly cut short. "He was dead within a week. His body left to slide off the ramp of the Gauntlet as we took off."
Verahl took another drag from his cigar. This time he blew the smoke straight across, towards David's face.
"Now, unless you've got it in your head that you want to beat this record, you're going to change your attitude," Verahl's tone was cold enough to send shivers down the spine of even an Elcor. Each of his eyes were drilled in on David, each focused on him and only him. "Out there you may have had problems with Turians, Asari, or whatever. In here though, that changes. I don't give even a solitary fuck on what your opinions of them are. In here you're going to treat each like a comrade and keep your closed mind shut. I pay you to fight, and you will fight with whoever I send you out with. You will also not injure either yourself, or more importantly another member of my company again in a fight that went to far or else you will suffer the repercussions. Your actions are undermining the strength of this entire company. If you intend to stay in it, I suggest you prove yourself an asset and not continue to be a liability."
The glare from each eye refused to break. Verahl kept his focus locked on David for what felt like ages, before beckoning to the door, telling him to get out from his office. Verahl allowed David to rise from his seat before speaking one final time.
"And one more thing David," interrupted Verahl, waiting for David to turn and face him once more. "If I hear or see you brandishing that tattoo again as a mark of pride or justice, I will personally see to branding over every bit of skin that bears it. Understood?"
As Verahl spoke, he drove the cigar into the ash-tray on his desk but kept his gaze still locked. The cigar quickly extinguished with one final billow of smoke.
"Now get out."
