The room was struck silent as Kiros made his pronouncement--except for a brief clatter as Fujin pushed away from the table and stood, intent on making some objection and not at all sure what that objection should be.

Laguna pushed his plate forward, uncharacteristically grim. "How long has this been true?"

"Since the corps were established, roughly twenty-six years ago."

"So... they're basically slaves, then."

"Basically."

"For twenty-six years."

Kiros nodded.

Laguna was frowning, looking as upset as anyone had ever seen him. "Kiros... how did no one tell me about this?"

"Laguna--"

"No one's ever figured that this is maybe something I should change? No one's decided I might want to know about this?" What the--"

"Mr. President!"

Laguna bit his tongue--fairly hard. He winced.

"No one told you because this is such an obscure part of Estharan law that it took me and three staffers since you had me briefed to find out about it. I'm not entirely sure that the cyborgs know they have no rights. This is something you have to be actively looking for, and no one does." He shook his head. "Adel made sure of that."

There was a wounded silence.

Kiros glanced up at Fujin. "We're still looking into things," he said, and returned quietly to his meal.

No one seemed too intent on conversing as the dinner wore on. Eventually Fujin sat down again--but didn't touch her food.

Laguna picked at his dish, mulling over everything in search of an answer. Finally, he set his fork down across his plate. "Kiros!"

Kiros glanced up, expression pretty clearly communicating his dread at whatever harebrained scheme Laguna was about to put him to.

"I want you to, as soon as possible, see about getting every member of a cyborg corp to be... honorably discharged. Decommissioned. Whatever we do to people--supplies--we want taken out of the army."

Kiros blanched. "Laguna...."

"What?" Laguna headed off the objection he was sure would follow before Kiros had a chance to make it. "You don't think these people deserve it?"

"It--of course I think they deserve it! I just don't think it's going to be that simple."

Laguna stared. Kiros groaned.

"Laguna--Mr. President, you're not the Commander-in-Chief of the army. If you were president of Galbadia, you would be, but it's not true here. As if that's not bad enough, cybernetic affairs are taken care of by the committee that Adel established and your authority over that is murky, at best!"

Laguna sighed. "And at worst?"

"Nonexistent." Kiros was massaging his temples with his index fingers, searching for alternatives in the patterns of his food. "In theory," he said, "you could make a case that the cybernetics committee is nominally under control of the Military Affairs Commissioner, who will act under orders of the Estharan Military Oversight Commission. But this is a long shot--the most you can do there is propose a bill for consideration and mark it 'urgent.' It will still have to be reviewed by God knows how many panels before the EMOC comes to a decision, and when that's done they have to turn it over to the Admiral General--who can veto it, if he doesn't like the terms! If the Admiral-General agrees, then it can be turned over to whoever in hell is in charge of the cybernetics committee." Kiros shook his head. "And that's not even mentioning that you'll be disbanding--what, a fifth of the army? I can't begin to count how many different agencies will take exception to that. And then--I haven't even started in on the fact that majority or minority, there may be cyborgs who don't want to be discharged, and--"

He trailed off. Laguna was scratching the back of his neck. "So... what can we do?"

Kiros sighed. "...I'll put a bill to the EMOC and mark it urgent."

"And... see about a presidential pardon for Taiga! ...I can do that, right?"

Kiros stood up. "Probably not, but I'll get the paperwork anyway."

Laguna waved his fork. "No, no! You don't have to now. Finish eating."

"The EMOC will stop sitting for the week in a little under an hour," Kiros pointed out. "You want to wait another five days?"

Laguna digested that. "Go ahead," he granted.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up." Kiros warned as he made his way out. As he exited, he paused to hold the door open for another person--a woman in official ESOC robes of average height, with a scowl firmly in place. She swept into the room with all the confident purpose possible, walking up to her place at the end of the table and placing her hands firmly down on the back of the chair just as the door hissed shut behind her.

"Mr. President," Dr. Dy Ralo snapped, glaring down the table with considerable force, "you'll forgive me for speaking so candidly and especially in front of your guests, but you have no idea how much shit you've gotten yourself into."