"... drunkards... how do they manage to actually fly in a straight line and manage kills at all is a wonder."
Xing looked at his drink. Not his usual tea. The liquid was crystal clear.
Vodka.
He sighed in annoyance.
"Oh, why the hell did I allow them to grow rye on Mikolaiv biodomes..."
Worse, how did 2 of the station' supplementary storage pods became entire vodka fermentation room?!
"drunkards..." he sighed slowly as he continued his work on the coalition war machines, sipping slowly, very slowly the alcohol...