Iretaria, Aras System,
Airbase Zeehn Seventeen
The conversation with this azoni had just taken a turn for the worse Lestik noted. The fact that they wouldn’t offer aid, and were courting the south, was far from what he had hoped for. It seemed that hopes and expectations were only conceived solely to be aborted. The brigadier did his best to keep his disappointment internal and did a fine job of it, simply reaching out and pouring himself more of the fiery liquor and jugging that instead of making an immediate comment. Dealing with these gods or aliens or whatever the hell they were was draining, and the drink helped to put some fire in him.
He swirled what remained in his glass for a moment before downing it, “Well, that is beyond disappointing. Here I was hoping we could be the best of friends and not just have you sitting by and making a bad situation worse by hoping on down at the worst time possible.” In any other situation Lestik would have bitten back the snark, but right now he was getting tired of dealing with an alien that had a chip on her shoulder and had been party to duping his ancestors for centuries.
Now he just had to ask the obvious, even though it pained him to do so, a sigh escaping his lips before he spoke, “And what might this ‘option two’ be eh? Come on down with spaceships and soldiers? Simply let us bomb each other into oblivion and sort out what remains? Or is there something else I am missing here.”