"Why the hell would you think that?" she asks, expression twisting slightly in disgusted disbelief at the question - though it's only the wording that makes her think it's a question at all, with his tone so inflectionless.

She knows that name. A major intelligence organization being revealed to be unignorably infested with facists is memorable, though it's been years.

After a few seconds, she manages to bury her reaction, exhaling a steadying breath and adding - hopefully more usefully - "I'm with the rebels. I don't know what lies the Sylphid might have been feeding you, but we're not here to hurt you."