The synthetic cat paws at her father's leg. "Dad?"
Yuri then smirks, "If you'll all excuse me." He stood, dusting himself off a bit. "Mercy, it was a pleasure to meet you. If you need anything, feel free to find me, and ask of it. I will do what I can."
To Traf, he gives a nod, and a quick soldier's snap-to... proof again that the life of a solider crosses any and all planar boundries. "Be well, Traf. The same offer is extended to you."
Without anything further then a nod to those that remain, and a handful of rubles on the table, the Soviet Premier, and his abomination of science.... depart.