"Enough," Reody said, his voice quiet but commanding. He looked at John. "Just tell us what you want to know, what you want us to do, and we'll do it, we'll tell you everything you want. If you have a plan to save the two thousand of our people, we are yours."
"Reody… What the hell?!!"
Lanmar turned sharply toward Reody, his voice cracking with a mixture of shock and perceived betrayal. To Lanmar, Reody's words sounded like a formal surrender of their racial sovereignty. His expression was a raw wound, as if he were seeing a stranger standing in his brother-in-arms' place.
Yet, Reody didn't seem bothered by the look or the accusatory attitude. He stood his ground, his gaze steady and sharp. He began to slowly explain to his thick-headed friends exactly what they were missing, the cold, bitter reality of their situation that pride and rage were currently obscuring.
