"How can I help you?" Kunta repeated, straightening up with indignation at my question. She puffed out her chest with an air of wounded pride that would have been more impressive if she had more chest to puff out. "I am a Starakian. The question should be how you could possibly manage without my help."
"We got a pretty good demonstration of what Starakians are capable of already, thanks," Sydney said with a dismissive scoff, examining her nails with studied disinterest. "Turns out you're remarkably skilled at releasing biological weapons from a safe distance and watching civilizations collapse while you observe from orbit. Very impressive. Truly elite tactical work."
Kunta's jaw tightened and her brows drew together in a fierce glare directed at Sydney—but crucially, she said nothing to refute the words.
