"...A solution of which you are the key."
Hedrick turned slowly to look at Robin, his expression calm, eyes steady and unreadable.
"Oh, let me guess..." Robin tilted his head slightly, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"The brilliant solution is that I give you my Grade-Four Planetary Displacement Gear, and in return, you—armed with that gear and your already-massive stockpile of weapons and fleets—might possibly be able to pull off your grand escape plan over the next 2,500 years.
Am I close?"
He let out a scoffing laugh, sharp and bitter.
"It's a fantastic strategy, really.
Especially when you consider that you didn't spend a single coin on this gear.
No, you funneled every resource into buying armaments and upgrading your fleets, all to protect the Seed... and now, conveniently, the last piece of the puzzle just happens to fall from the sky, gift-wrapped and ready."
