Richard listened to Shuha'dar's chilling philosophy of harvesting, a faint, cold smile touching his lips, his eyes burning with an inner light that seemed to intensify with every word. "Yeah, that may be true. Maybe we are hypocrites. The world, or the galaxy, is dog eats dog. The one who wins gets to write the rules. Gets to write their own history." His voice was calm, almost amused, yet carrying an immense weight that belied his restrained posture.