(spoilers for Starcraft: Survivors)
"It is past the time which you should go to bed."
"It's 3pm, Immy."
"Yes. You have been watching that recording since you awoke. You will sleep poorly tonight."
Hannya glared at the datapad, as if she could transport herself to the moment Spearpoint was glassed by willpower alone. "The Umojans were doing the same thing we are. I might even have lost a bid to them for whatever the Tal'darim glassed them over."
"There is an important difference between you and the Umojans." The golden-eyed protoss seemed abhorrently calm even as the mothership on-screen turned the planet to so much ash and magma.
"Flattery gets you nowhere, peacock." Hannya snorted, waving the datapad at him. "They had more manpower. More money. Governmental backing. I have one planet, volunteers, and criminals. My only leg up over them is that I have you and they don't. Didn't."
"You are competent. You listen to my advice. You do not grasp beyond your ability to hold. You genuinely comprehend the magnitude of what you do. Had the Umojans held a fraction of your ability, they would not be dead. And that is why I do not fear the Death Fleet."
Hannya chewed her lip. "Don't think you should trust me that much."
"Then prove me wrong." A pause. "After you rest and recover."



















