The last Terran, a remnant of his extinct species, arrives before the Kraktol vessel, the Red-Tongue. Despite being only a hundredth the Bloodbearer's size, the Red-Tongue still presents a massive, imposing image when set against the backdrop of the Bloodbearer's Shuttle Bay. It devours the metallic interior and towers above the nearby shuttlecraft, making the Slipstream and other similar vessels appear positively tiny in comparison.

Admiral José Rodriguez, flanked by Megla and Soren, stops before the Red-Tongue's middle bow module, one of the three forward-facing spikes that gives the Red Tongue its distinctive trident shape. He folds his hands behind his back and straightens his posture while he waits for the landing ramp to lower.

Half a minute later, it does. Lord Drall, second in command of the Kraktol Empire, strides down the ramp and holds his scaled palms outward, displaying an open and honest lack of hostility. "Admiral Rodriguez! Graugh! It is my greatest honor to meet you, a living Precursor, face to face!"

Kisa Kindris, daughter of the Thülvik, follows behind Lord Drall, her movements noticeably more stiff and awkward. Her reptilian eyes flick around the hangar bay, where she spots dozens of Kessu working on repairing the Bloodbearer's many dilapidated shuttlecraft. Along with them, various holo-Terrans mill about, using their advanced programming and subroutines to guide the Kessu better toward fixing the craft as needed.

"Wow! This v-vessel is... gigantic. I've not seen something like it in all my life!"

Lord Drall glances at Kisa. "Graugh! Where are your manners? Greet our benefactor first before praising his vessel! ...Even if it is an incredible piece of craftsmanship."

The two of them arrive at the bottom of the ramp, making José chuckle to himself. Lord Drall, ever the intimidating Kraktol on the holoscreen, still comes up half a head short compared to José himself.

Based on the information I've gathered from Soren, José muses silently, the Kraktol appear to be a matriarchal species. The females tend to take mating priority, and thus their bodies are larger, while the males are often little more than footsoldiers who follow their female leaders' orders. Indeed, the Thülvik is likely quite a bit taller than Drall, and therefore, me.

The Admiral keeps his thoughts to himself. "Kisa Kindris, there's no need to act stuffy and formal around me. Just act as you would if you were in your own home. While you're here, feel free to walk around and view the ship. Soren and Megla would be happy to show you some of the more interesting sights and scenery."

Behind José, Megla raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his words. She doesn't contradict him, though, and merely nods. "Kyargh! Yes, half-sister. We have not seen each other in decades! It would be wonderful to catch up on the latest chatter and gossip."

Soren nods. "Indeed. I hope things have been going well for you on Dragua."

Kisa steps past Lord Drall and glances at the Terran shyly, noticing how much more imposing he appears in person. "Uh, um... yes. Something like that. You know how mother can be so very... attentive."

Soren, Megla, and Kisa stroll away, leaving José alone with Lord Drall. The Admiral follows Kisa's movements with his eyes for several seconds, keeping an eye on her back as she leaves.

Lord Drall chuckles. "Graugh! I see, now. So that is why you chose Megla and Soren to accompany you! Indeed, Sir Terran, you have keen-sighted eyes for the beautiful treasures of the Kraktol Empire! My daughters are of the finest breed, and will make for excellent mating partners in the future!"

The Admiral frowns for a moment, before turning back to Lord Drall and smiling. "You misunderstand. I have no... sexual interest in Megla, Soren, or Kisa."

"Graugh! A fine jest, if ever I've heard one!" Drall guffaws. "Those lingering eyes, those polite and deferential words. Worry not, for I shan't speak of your predilections to the Thülvik. Even if she knew, Loreen would surely feel at ease knowing my daughters have thrown themselves into the harem of such a mighty and proud warrior as yourself! A marriage between the Kraktol Empire and the mighty Precursor would certainly shake the galactic community!"

A meaningful glint appears in Lord Drall's eyes. "And who could blame you? Their scales; are they not pristine? Soren's intellect, Megla's passion, and Kisa's demure nature. My daughters have all the traits any cold-blooded male should eagerly pursue!"

José stays silent for a few moments. He meets Drall's gaze, then shakes his head and laughs. "Think what you like. I'll say it again; I've no interest in mating with the Kraktol, the Kessu, nor any of the other sentients in this galaxy. Right now, my goals are a bit more... focused."

Perhaps sensing the finality in José's tone, Lord Drall's laughter dies down. He assumes a more dignified posture and clears his throat. "Harrumph! Well, ah, forgive me, Admiral Rodriguez. I meant no offense."

José gestures into the distance, toward the double doors leading out of the Shuttle Bay. "None taken. Now, come. Walk with me."

Drall nods respectfully. He pauses for half a breath and turns to face his ship. After pounding his fists together and nodding, his crew raises the entry ramp, sealing themselves inside to wait for Drall's return.

Before long, both men begin walking across the clean and pristine exosteel deckplates, with Jose's boots and Drall's claws clomping and clinking across the floor as they move.

Drall glances from side to side. His gaze often falls on the many Kessu milling around, some of whom hiss at him, while others merely ignore the Kraktol visitor, having long since grown used to Megla and Soren's presences.

"It seems your cooperation with the Kessu has deepened considerably in the last month or so," Lord Drall muses. "From Orgon's memories, we gathered that you had only met the Kessu on the day his fleet appeared, yet you protected them with such passionate ferocity. Now, they work for you as mechanics and technicians."

The corner of José's mouth curls into a faint smile. It's been quite a bit longer than a month, thanks to time dilation, but Drall doesn't need to know that.

Instead, he says, "The Kessu lost their memories, yet they retained their innate affinity toward technology. While I've had to re-educate them regarding many things they didn't know, they picked up that information surprisingly quickly."

"Mmm. The mystery of the erased Kessu memories..." Lord Drall mutters. "A fascinating matter, that."

"Oh? Do you know something relevant?" José asks.

The two men step through the double doors leading out of the Shuttle Bay. They arrive inside a wide open corridor, one in which a few dozen Kessu meander about, heading to one task or another. It doesn't escape José's notice that while Lord Drall keeps his distance from the Kessu, a slight look of disgust also appears on his face.

"Not exactly," Lord Drall mutters. "Truth be told, when that matter with the Kessu happened, the Kraktol were still slaves under their thumb. It was only because of the Kessu's ostracism from Mallali society that we managed to escape their control. By the time Lady Loreen came to power and set out to conquer Dragua for ourselves, the Kessu had already begun to fade into obscurity. We were far too busy building our society from the ground up to pursue our vengeance, and so, the mystery of the Kessu mind-wipes escaped our attention for far too long."

"But you did uncover some information?" José asks, his tone rhetorical.

"You could say that," Drall answers cryptically. "However, the matter is not as cut and dry as you might expect."

Lord Drall and José pace down the corridors toward a destination only José knows. Drall flicks his eyes toward José, then returns to looking forward, avoiding eye contact with the Terran.

"The Kessu were, and possibly still are, a species hellbent on achieving political power and knowledge," Drall explains. "That alone isn't significant. All sentients, to some extent, wish for their species to rise to power and dominate the competition. Such is the natural order of life. What made the Kessu unique were their cutthroat tactics and distinct lack of any moral guidelines. All sentients have a saying, 'as two-faced as a Kessu,' which refers to their propensity for lies and deceit. Perhaps you've heard it before?"

"I haven't," José answers. "In fact, every Kessu I've met has been kind and gentle toward me. I've yet to meet a single liar, a single greedy bastard, and a single backstabber. They've been as honest as I could ever expect."

"Hmph..." Drall snorts, clearly displeased by José's assessment. "You live amongst them, so they'll surely show their true colors, given time. Especially since you've given the little furballs free roam of the place. Who knows how many backdoors they've installed in your systems? Who knows how many 'alterations' they've slipped into your command protocols? Watch yourself, Terran. One of these days, you might find yourself a stranger in your own ship."

José falls silent. He reflects on Drall's words, then begins replaying the past several days worth of events back in his head.

I can't remember any of my interactions with the Kessu prior to my rebirth. All I can rely on are the memory files given to me by Umi. Who's the say the Kessu couldn't have edited those files to influence my memories? It's a long shot, but it never hurts to take precautions...

He smiles. "Even if your fears end up not coming to pass, I must thank you for the timely warning, Lord Drall."

"Graugh! We warriors must stick together! There is nothing a fine and upright male should fear more than the conniving skullduggery of closed-door politics and back-room dealings. Keep your wits about you, Admiral, and you shall fare well in this era."

"Haha..." José chuckles wryly. "I'm afraid I don't plan to stick around long enough to make many friends."

"Oh? Are you planning a long journey?" Drall asks.

"...Something like that."

José's gaze turns vacant for a moment as his thoughts wander.

Evelyn. Nick. I'll join you soon enough. Once I sort out what happened to humanity, I won't leave you waiting.

...

The two men eventually arrive at another pair of double-doors. They open up to reveal a wide, empty room, one lacking any furnishings, along with any decorations whatsoever.

Drall pauses outside the door. His pleasant expression dulls somewhat, as a hint of suspicion enters his eyes. "Hmm? What is this place? Why have you brought me here?"

"This is the Bloodbearer's holodeck," José answers. "It may look like a prison, but I assure you, it isn't."

"A holodeck?" Drall repeats. "I have heard of them, but I've never seen one before. Only the Core Worlders possess a few, and us Rodaks would never be allowed to touch them."

"Well, then this will be quite an interesting experience for you." José says.

The Admiral launches into a brief but informative ten minute explanation of the holodeck, giving essentially the same description of its functions as he gave to Megla and Soren.

When José concludes, Lord Drall merely nods. "I see. What wondrous Precursor- err, Terran technology, indeed. To think the Mallali would possess such incredible relics, yet only hoard them for themselves."

"Mmm." Jose grunts. "Let's take a seat."

José waves his hand. Like magic, a fifteen-foot-long table materializes on the floor, along with a chair at each end.

Drall blinks in surprise. "How... how did you summon...?"

"Cerebral implants," José answers, as he eases into the nearest chair. "I can communicate with this ship telepathically."

"Ah."

Lord Drall walks toward the opposite end of the table and sits down, marveling at how the chair contours to his bottom, even going so far as to open a hole in the back for his tail.

"Terran Implants. Believe it or not, the Mallali have spent countless millennia researching various Precursor remnant technologies. We Rodaks have long known about implants, but their finer use and utility has evaded the galactic population at large. I've heard rumors that several top Mallali officials have begun installing basic, rudimentary implants stealthily into their bodies, but we've no way to corroborate such hearsay."

"I see," José says, nodding slowly. "The Mallali aren't my concern. Not right now, anyway. Let's cut the chit-chat, Lord Drall. We are by ourselves, now. Nobody shall bother us. What is it that you couldn't say in front of your crew? What do you know about the Buzor lurking beneath Tarus II's surface?"

Drall's casual calmness fades away. In its place, a look of calculating cynicism appears.

"You are a wise sentient, are you not, Terran?" Drall asks. "You know that, often, the information a leader tells his people will be at odds with reality. Sometimes, to maintain morale, or to keep our people productive, we must feed them minor lies here and there. Small 'untruths'; minute deceptions which serve the greater good."

"Many a great leader has lied whilst claiming it was to serve the greater good," José comments blandly. "But perhaps that, in and of itself, is also a lie."

"Haha. Good, very good..." Drall says, his words coming more slowly and carefully. "I believe I am not wrong in my assessment of you. You are a cunning being, someone who has fought in more wars than any Rodak, perhaps even the Thülvik herself. You have already determined that we did not attack the Kessu on Tarus II merely to fulfill some long-dead, ancient, petty revenge."

José smiles. "Not true. Doubtless, you wished to exterminate the Kessu anyway, but it was some other secret you uncovered which led to your ultimate decision to attack the planet. Killing your ancient enemies was, in effect... a minor convenience."

"Graugh! True, yes. You understand my words better than I can speak them," Drall chuckles. "It was only a few decades ago when the Thülvik encountered some... disturbing news. Thanks to an informant among the Buzor, we learned that they had quietly established multiple planetary bases around the Outer Rim. In total, the Buzor now control, in secret, more than three thousand planets encircling the galaxy's outer edges, giving them a positional advantage in the event of a galactic war."

"Am I supposed to be surprised?" José asks. "I would imagine such a strategy to be an intelligent, perhaps even expected, military tactic. Encircling your enemy is a long-known element of Terran warfare."

"Aye," Drall answers. "You are correct. Under normal circumstances, such would be the case. However, what was most alarming was Loreen's realization that the Buzor had achieved their encirclement strategy in complete silence. They had pulled it off within a frighteningly short period, perhaps only a few thousand star-cycles. The Buzor informant would not tell us exactly what had led to their swift expansion, but he gave us a hint."

Drall pauses for half a beat.

"The Buzor... they obtained some hitherto unknown, ancient Terran device. What it is, we have yet to discover. We do know there are many of these devices in use now, and the Buzor have used them to place down several strategic military embattlements across the Milky Way. Most importantly, the first one came from right here on Tarus II. If we could slay the Kessu and delve into the mountain, we might be able to catch the Buzor by surprise, take control of the originator device, and use its power to further our own ends."

"Galactic domination..." José mutters. "Boring, but logical. I find your claims laughable, considering Tarus II was, in my era, an empty planet. We Terrans placed our prisoners there and kept all technology strictly out of the inmates' hands. If you had told me this device was found on one of the Core worlds, perhaps one of the former galactic superpowers' Dominion worlds, I might believe you. But Tarus II? It was nothing but a prison planet. Your informant was likely wrong."

"Graugh... under normal circumstances, you might be correct, Admiral Rodriguez," Drall says, leaning his elbows on the table. "But perhaps you did not notice one detail I mentioned. The Kessu abandoned their role as the leaders of the Mallali some two thousand years ago. At that same time, they wiped their memories and took up residence on Tarus II. Simultaneously, the Buzor appeared here and began their expansion campaign. If we assume such a device existed here on Tarus II, then we might be forgiven for concluding the Kessu assisted the Buzor in using it. After all, you may not know this, but the Buzor are technologically illiterate. They have no starships to speak of. They are not well-versed in the ways of Precursor artifacts."

José sits up a little straighter.

"You believe the Kessu assisted the Buzor? You think they used their technological supremacy to somehow activate this device for the Buzor? Why not take control of it for themselves, if they were the backstabbers and rogues you claimed them to be?"

Drall presses his claws together. He shakes his head and sighs. "Graugh... I do not know. The events which transpired 2,000 years ago... I was alive at the time, but I was not a main player, nor even a pawn in the galaxy's political machine. We Kraktol were too busy fighting for our freedom to pay attention to the backdoor dealings of those wretched Mallali."

The Kraktol leader continues. "If I had to hazard a guess... I would say that the Kessu left the Mallali core worlds deliberately and joined forces with the Buzor. Combining their intellect with the Buzor's unrivaled ground warfare supremacy, they would become an unstoppable force. However, they could not make this transition obvious. Therefore, the Kessu lied and said they would step down from galactic politics and return to a simpler, more primitive lifestyle. This news shocked the Mallali community, but so many Mallali hated the Kessu that they simply accepted it as truth, especially when all of the Kessu spread across the Milky Way returned to Tarus II and never left it again."

"That makes sense..." José mutters, a frown playing on his face. "Perhaps the 'device' the Buzor found was not actually native or found on Tarus II, but brought there by the Kessu. Perhaps the Kessu obtained it in secret some time before and worked out a deal with the Buzor. If they were as power-hungry as you claim, then such an action makes perfect sense."

This time, José pauses for half a beat. His frown deepens as he rubs his chin.

"However... something doesn't add up. The mind-wipes... why bother? Perhaps there are still some Kessu who've retained their memories in secret. The real players; the powerhouses of their people. They erased the memories of the 'peons,' while keeping their own minds intact."

Drall nods. "Indeed. We've considered that possibility. It makes sense, given the Kessu's knowledge of Precursor artifacts. Additionally, when we attacked Tarus II, that strange stealth-craft emerged from seemingly nowhere. This implies to me, as well as Loreen, that the Kessu are not as weak and defenseless as they first seem. If an external threat appears, I have no doubt they will reveal their hidden weapons and blast that threat out of the sky. Orgon's betrayal —his complete disregard for attacking Tarus II— may have inadvertently spared the Kraktol from suffering a terrible calamity."

José leans back in his chair. The Terran falls silent as he ponders Drall's words.

"...I don't have a horse in this race," José says, enunciating carefully. "So, in all seriousness, I couldn't give half a damn whether the Kraktol, Kessu, Mallali, or Buzor take over the galaxy. None of you mean one iota to me."

"All I care about," José continues, "is eliminating the demonic presence on Tarus II. Perhaps, of all the things we've discussed, the demons are the outlier that baffles me the most."

Drall cocks his head. "There it is again; that word. What is a 'demon,' Admiral? I have no concept of the term."

"That's why I brought you to the holodeck," José says. He rises from his chair and takes a few steps to the side, while indicating for Drall to remain seated. "Umi."

"Yes, Admiral. I will create the holograms as per your mental specifications," Umi beeps from above.

Drall watches silently as billions of light particles rapidly congeal together, forming half a dozen red-skinned figures of different sizes. Only one of them towers above José, while the rest stand at his height or below it.

"These... these creatures are demons?" Drall asks. "They resemble you, but with blood-red skin, and those horns sticking out of their skulls."

José nods. "They do share some similarities with Terrans, but make no mistake, demons are far fiercer, more vicious, and more guileless than any Terran I've met. They once preyed upon the bodies of Terrans, defiled our women, and enslaved our men. In my eyes, they are heretical beings whose existences must be purged at all costs."

Drall appears unconvinced. "Is that not the natural desire of all beings? Conquering other species is the right of the victor. Those who lose wars are weak, while those who win are strong. What makes the demons so 'heretical' in your eyes?"

"That question is not an easy one to answer," José replies, his expression bland. "Humans spent many ages trying to reconcile with the demons, as well as our other enemies. However, because the demons preyed upon us, we had no choice but to fight with all our might and exterminate them. We did not do so because of our innate desire to slaughter them all, but because if we did not go to such extreme lengths, then, given time, the demons would."

José begins pacing back and forth in front of the six lined-up holograms. He pauses at the first one, a somewhat short male with a neatly trimmed beard and goatee, a cocky swagger in his posture, and a fat beer belly.

"This one here was the First Emperor of demonkind," José explains. "His name was Satan. He may not look like much, but Satan was essentially an unkillable demigod. His body could regenerate from death, no matter how many times we slaughtered him. If we trapped him, he would tap into one of his seemingly infinite number of abilities to break free of his containment. He grew stronger the more Terrans he killed, and thus, was an ever-evolving threat that required the united might of humanity to defeat."

The Admiral gestures toward the second demon, a skeleton hovering off the ground, more than a head smaller than Satan, seemingly frail and weak. The hovering skeleton clutches a pair of ethereal knives in its grasp, each one capable of slicing through steel with ease.

"Mephisto, the Emperor of Legions," José explains. "A Necromancer capable of bringing the dead back to life. Satan devoured Terrans to empower himself, but Mephisto kept their minds and bodies intact, turning them against their loved ones. In terms of psychological warfare, no demons were nearly as adept as him in the ways of scarring our soldiers' minds. He could turn his body ethereal, allowing him to bypass all of our defenses. Killing him meant losing tens of millions of minds to psychosis and shellshock."

José continues walking, gesturing to the other four as he talks.

"Belial, the Emperor of Passion. A seductress with frightening strength, she could wipe out legions of soldiers with her fists, while also restoring the bodies of her allies before they died. An adept changeling, she could infiltrate humanity's ranks and turn our own soldiers against us by weaponizing their lust."

"Bael, the Emperor of Intellect. A super-genius with strength in equal quantities. Immune to almost every type of damage we could inflict, the only thing more frightening was how he could seemingly peer into the future thanks to his bottomless brainpower."

"Fenrir, the Emperor of the Night. A Vampiress who drank blood to empower herself, as well as her thralls. She possessed powers similar to Satan himself, making her an enemy who grew in strength over time. Had we not overlooked her existence, we might not have paid such a frightful price to eliminate her heresy from the galaxy."

"Gorn, the Emperor of Many Faces. An archfiend who could assume the form of others, gaining their abilities and powers tenfold. His versatility in the ways of war were only overshadowed by his Bael-like intellect, allowing him to puppeteer other demons from the shadows. Killing him was a nearly-impossible task, but finding him was even harder."

After speaking the name of these six demons, José falls silent for a moment.

He looks at Drall meaningfully. "Every one of these six was a frightening adversary. Alone, they could rip apart worlds and civilizations. Together, they nearly brought the galaxy to its knees. It took thousands, if not millions of soldiers to kill each one. And they were not the only terrifying existences. I didn't even mention Diablo, Lucifer, Valac, Auger, or Kristoff, let alone all the other Emperors, Dukes, Barons, and Lords."

Drall clenches his claws into fists. "You... you said before that you found demons on Tarus II. By that, did you mean...?"

"Aye. Not just any demon, but a living Demon Emperor, the highest existence a demon could reach. Yama, the Emperor of Shadows. His power, though lacking, is still more than enough to kill me by myself. To tell the truth, I've been agonizing over how I'm going to kill him. I cannot allow him to live, for as I've seen, his power has not dwindled over time. Demons, unlike Terrans, the Mallali, the Kraktol, or any other sentient... demons cannot die of old age. They are immortal; undying. If I do not kill him, he will continue to increase his power and expand his forces."

José spends a few minutes explaining to Drall how Yama's powers work. He details Yama's method of 'converting' men and women into Shades and Shadow-walkers, as well as his many other powers involving darkness.

After José's explanation wraps up, Drall rubs the underside of his jaw thoughtfully. "This Yama fellow... he seems quite frightening. But, compared to the other Demon Emperors, he does not seem invincible. His weakness to light, for example, seems quite exploitable."

"Yes." José answers. "If I had to choose between facing Yama or any of the other demons I mentioned before, I would choose him one hundred out of one hundred times. If our opponent were Satan, Belial, Mephisto, or heaven forbid, Bael, I wouldn't even bother. Those Emperors would be far too much for me to defeat on my own. Against Bael in particular, even igniting Tarus II's star in a supernova would not be enough to kill him. Trust me; humanity tried."

José waves his hand, causing the holograms to disappear. He strolls over to the table and takes a seat, sighing heavily.

"Drall. Can I speak my mind?"

"Graugh! Naturally!" Drall answers, his spirits rising noticeably. "We are males! We speak the honest truth, and nothing but the truth!"

"Excellent. Then, here's the deal. You came at the perfect time. Aboard your vessel, there are many Kraktol warriors. I, alone, am not a match for Yama. I cannot slay him by myself. Similarly, his strengths come in the form of deception and evasion, so he lacks the power needed to kill me, provided I enter his lair prepared. This puts us at a stalemate."

Drall's eyes flash with insight.

"You... you wish to make use of my soldiers?"

"I do." José answers flatly.

Lord Drall tilts his head upward, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Graugh! Bahaha! You, Terran, are a most interesting person! You take my information and you take my men, abusing the pure goodness of my heart! How shameless, how utterly shameless!"

After pausing, Drall continues.

"But what can I say? I would not dare to deny you this request. The Thülvik herself told me to grant you any concession. So, tell me, Terran... would this not count as a tacit alliance with the Kraktol Empire?!"

José laughs. "Haha. You're a simple man, Lord Drall. Fine. If you wish to consider me an ally, then I won't deny you that request. However, do not expect me to fight your wars. If you want to learn the Buzor's secrets, then assisting me in killing Yama and his Shades will bring you closer to that revelation. You can find the answers you seek, while I can slay the heretic lurking under the mountain. This cooperation is a win-win for both of us."

The Terran's smile fades. "However, make no mistake. After this operation, our agreement will come to an end. I will not ally with you or anyone else for the foreseeable future, as I have no interest in the petty galactic squabbles taking place in this era. I have only one desire, and only I can pursue it. You will be of no help to me in seeing it through."

Drall hesitates. "...Can you tell me what you seek?"

"No."

José answers with a bland expression on his face, one that masks the pain in his heart. Drall, however, being unfamiliar with Terran body language, can only hazard random guesses as to the Terran's secrets.

"Very well. In the end, even a temporary alliance suits my needs. You are a surprisingly conscientious being, someone willing to consider my political situation. When I return to the Thülvik with news of fighting alongside the Terran, she will be extremely pleased with me. Perhaps she will even grant me the privilege of whelping a second child with her! Bahaha!"

"Hah, I'm glad I could help," José laughs. He stands up, as does Drall. With a wave of his hand, José dismisses the holodeck's projections, returning the room to its empty state.

The two of them start to walk toward the door, but Drall pauses.

"Regarding Yama's extermination... given how powerful you have stated Demon Emperors to be, what are the odds all of my troops together could defeat him?"

"On your own?" José asks. "Zero percent. You've no chance. But with me in command, giving you access to this ship's formidable stockpile of weapons and armaments? I'd say it's around... seventy percent."

Drall's jaw drops. A greedy look appears in his eyes, while drool pools at the edges of his mouth.

"S-stockpiles... of armaments? Yes... yes! I had almost forgotten. Your vessel is equipped with 50th Era technology. I can hardly even imagine the... the firepower you could bring to bear!"

José wryly shakes his head.

"Like father, like daughter. You remind me of Megla in many ways."

"Graugh! I will take that as a compliment!"

Drall's expression turns odd, and he takes a step away from the Terran.

"...But no funny business! I won't allow you to throw yourself upon me as you have Megla! I have eyes only for my beloved Thülvik!"

José rolls his eyes. "Oh, not that line again."