Skellig does not yet utter the name as he doesn't want to taste it on his tongue any longer than he has to. "Makes enough sense."

Once it becomes obvious that they are headed in the direction of the doorway of the building, the guards bristle up a bit, looking tough.

"I've come to speak with Cylon of Pergamon," Skellig says, puffing HIMSELF up with all that he can muster. "If granted an audience, I would make it quite worth his time."