Miles's brow furrows slightly. The name rings a distant bell. Marathi System, Marathi System... He remembers the name from military history courses years ago at the Service Academy. On one far-flung edge of the Nexus, far enough that its nearest neighbors stopped paying attention to its local system wars long, long ago. The wormhole's been effectively blockaded for nearly as long as Barrayar had been cut off, though last Miles had heard in school...

"Refugees?" The surprise is edged with skepticism, but of the healthy professional variety. "I was under the impression that the Marathi System was united under a multiplanetary government now."

A very closed one, but hey, the Athosians keep to themselves, too. Then again, Athos is...an entirely different place.