Blaine was taking a break from some paperwork in his office over a drink and a club sandwich when one of his ship commanders, Joel West, came looking for him.
"Commander," he said to his boss, "did you hear about this?" He handed him a datapad with info on it. Blaine read it. He closed his eyes, shook his head and handed the pad back.
"No," replied Blaine, "but I'm not surprised......damned Gallics. Any casualties?"
"None, Sir," replied West, "shall I send a communication to the Gallics and Crayters?"
"No," instantly replied Blaine, "We......." Blaine looked around and said to the bartender, "I'll be back. Watch my food." He took West to his office and locked the door behind him.
"The Crayterian government just gave us use of their shipyard should we need it so leave them be," he explained, "Don't take sides but I'd rather keep things quiet. The Gallics? Well, they'll respond with some sort of Zoner bash, how we "Sirians" need to be put in our place. You know, crap like that so there's really no point."
"Understood," replied West. He then quipped, "You COULD challenge one of them to some hand to hand."
"Nah," replied Blaine, "I gave up all of that special ops anti-guerilla warfare stuff years ago. After twenty four years of it, I've had enough."
With that, the two men went back into the cafe where Blaine finished his meal and West prepared for a Tau patrol.