"If I beat up half of your crew, they probably weren't doing their job very well."
I smiled at Hartman's exaggerations. A personal confrontation was absolutely a last resort for me, reserved for particularly belligerent subordinates. I rarely sparred with friends or for fun, that was not my preference. "Felix had better enjoy his rest while he still can. The Gallics are coming."
That was a sobering thought. Although I'd no longer be on the front lines when they invaded, a lot of good men and friends would die in the confrontation. And for the first time, Libertonian victory was not assured. I still hoped it'd not come to that, that they'd contend with conquering Bretonia. It was a cruel thought, but anything to avoid more lost friends. I'd had enough.
"Never met Fuchs. Sounds like a fun guy..." I said, chuckling. "Baker will need to get the outfit together if you want to stand a chance against the Gallics."
