Dire Contingency
Copyright© 2025 by Snekguy
Chapter 42
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 42 - A disillusioned special forces group stages a violent insurrection, stealing experimental weapons from a Navy black site and using them to take over a remote colony. With help months away, the only person who is in a position to oppose them is Ruza – an old veteran of the Kerguela war. The planet is plunged into a brutal conflict, with local resistance groups hellbent on breaking the occupation.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Military War Science Fiction Aliens Space Oral Sex Petting Size Politics Slow Violence
DAY 59 – HADES – RUZA
“What is going on?” Ruza asked as she stepped into the Governor’s office. “Why do you all look so dour?”
All of the most important people on Hades were in the room, lit by the rays of the rising sun that filtered in through the window behind them. The way that they were standing on opposite sides of the wooden desk made it look as though they were forming factions. It seemed that some kind of argument was taking place.
On the left side were Reed, Bergmann, and the Governor. On the right were Brenner and Rivera. The two turned to greet him as he entered – he hadn’t seen them since returning from the carrier. They exchanged handshakes, Brenner’s polymer coarse against his fur.
“Good to see you again, Doc,” Rivera said with a warm smile. “Sorry we haven’t been able to stop by and visit – things have been pretty hectic. Fuller and the guys send their regards.”
“Ruza,” Brenner added with a nod. “I’m glad you’re here. Maybe you can talk some sense into these people.”
“Why did you request my presence?” Ruza asked as he glanced between the two groups.
“It’s about Nilsson,” Rivera said, gesturing across the room. “Petrova captured him on the station, and he was remanded into Hadean custody along with his staff. Captain Ortega has formally requested that he be transferred to the carrier, but only his staff have been released.”
“We’re not ready to hand Nilsson over just yet,” Reed replied.
“Can you explain?” Ruza asked, his feline brow furrowing. “Bergmann, Governor – you support this?”
“Doctor Nilsson represents a valuable asset,” Bergmann began. “According to him, Barbosa kidnapped him and his staff at gunpoint and forced them to work on his projects. Nilsson was operating under duress, and while I’m under no illusions about the questionable legality of some of his experiments, they were sanctioned by the Admiralty. He’s requested asylum.”
“And you are considering this?” Ruza asked. “Why?”
“It’s not out of any moral compulsion,” Brenner grumbled, crossing his prosthetic arms.
“Nilsson created the Bullsharks,” Reed began. “Not only that, but he got the production models working with only what he could make on the carrier and what he could scavenge from the colony. You remember the talk we had yesterday about giving Hades a truly independent military force? This could be one of the ways we do that. Imagine the force multiplier of having our own homegrown PCE platoons.”
“You wish to use Nilsson to build more?” Ruza asked, glancing between the two sides. “Reed ... after all that you have seen, how can you suggest this?”
“It would be legal,” the Governor added. “There are no laws prohibiting us from developing our own domestic weapons systems, and the request for asylum is a valid one. Furthermore, the suits that were manufactured on Hades contain no stolen alien technology – that’s what made them inferior to the prototypes. The Brokers should have no reason to object, and the Navy can hardly complain, considering how Nilsson ended up here.”
“You would be profiting from the suffering Barbosa caused,” Ruza argued.
“Barbosa didn’t create the PCEs,” Reed insisted. “He stole them. Yes, he wreaked havoc with them – you don’t need to remind me – but that doesn’t mean we can’t use them for good. That would be like saying it’s immoral to use XMRs because Barbosa used them. Hell, it’s about time something good came out of this whole mess.”
“They can only be piloted by SWAR agents,” Brenner added. “How do you propose getting around that? Are you just going to violate the YST like Barbosa did?”
“Hey, we’re the ones who sent most of Barbosa’s Borg pals to the scrapyard,” Reed protested angrily as he jabbed a finger at Brenner. “Don’t compare us to him. We currently have a whole medbay full of SWAR recruits with shunts, and we didn’t do that to them. Maybe there are ways we could pilot PCEs without the implants, or maybe some of the recruits will want to keep theirs. I don’t know, but I’d like the option to be open.”
“How do you think the Navy will react to this when they arrive?” Brenner demanded.
“We don’t work for you!” Reed shot back, enunciating each word carefully as though Brenner might not understand. “They can react however they want – they have no authority over the civilian government. Back me up here, Ruza!”
“I do not think that now is the time for internal conflict,” Ruza replied warily. “Not so soon after defeating Barbosa. Remember that we are all friends and allies here.”
That seemed to diffuse the situation somewhat, Reed backing off a little and Brenner relaxing his posture.
“You’re as Hadean as the rest of us, Ruza,” Reed began. “You know that a remote colony like ours needs more than PDF and UNN patrol fleets. The only way that we can guarantee our long-term safety is to develop our own homegrown military force capable of protecting the colony. We don’t have a large population, so we can’t win a numbers game, but you’ve seen what these PCEs can do. A small number of elite units could turn the tide of the next battle that comes our way. I respect you, Brenner,” he added with a glance at the commander. “But the only assurance you can give us is a pinky promise that this kind of situation won’t happen again.”
“I’m sure that Captain Ortega and I could argue for more than that,” Brenner replied. “Maybe a permanent UNN garrison on Hades. You’re jumping the gun and making an assumption that we’re going to act in bad faith.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Reed insisted. “I don’t doubt the UNN’s intentions, only their ability to follow through. I’m sure that you’re right – we could negotiate for more, but when push comes to shove, history shows that the only people we can depend on are ourselves. ExoCorp, the Syndicate, Barbosa – it keeps happening. We’re not a threat to anybody else – we don’t even have a fleet. All I’m asking for is the best chance to protect ourselves. If your argument is that we can’t have Bullsharks because of the way Barbosa employed them, that’s just not good enough.”
“It’s not just that,” Brenner sighed. “This whole situation is a massive embarrassment for the Navy. I don’t think any of you fully appreciate how catastrophic the fallout from this is going to be when it hits the civilian press. All of the shady shit the Admirals have been doing for the last thirty years is going to come to light. I don’t even know if SWAR will still exist by the end of it. The PCEs represent a highly sensitive and illegal R&D program that was never supposed to see the light of day. It was canceled, and it would have faded into obscurity without anyone outside of Site Two even knowing about its existence. They were developed illegally, with technology stolen from our allies, and we shut the project down. That should have been the end of it.”
“It’s not our job to cover up the Admiralty’s mistakes,” Bergmann added. “Even if we wanted to run damage control, what happened here is too big and impacted too many people to be swept under the rug. The toothpaste is out of the tube, and it’s not going back in.”
“If you’re keeping the data and schematics, at least give us Nilsson,” Brenner argued. “He was deeply involved in Barbosa’s operations, and he carries highly classified information. We can’t allow you to keep him – he represents too great a security risk.”
“So now it’s about what you’ll allow us to do?” Reed scoffed.
“I’m not intending it as a threat, simply a statement of fact,” Brenner insisted. “Do you really believe you can stop the UNN from taking Nilsson if that’s what they decide is necessary?”
“They can try,” Reed scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “Maybe we’ll greet the delegation from the fleet with a pyramid of SWAR helmets stacked eight feet high in the square and see if that changes their attitude. Inclusion of the skulls is optional.”
“The fleet would be advised to tread carefully in the present climate,” Ruza added, raising an eyebrow. “Hades needs the fleet, but the UNN is in no position to make demands of the Hadeans. I do not imagine that they would withhold food aid or threaten violence to obtain Nilsson.”
“Of course not,” Brenner grumbled. “We’re not the bad guys here. I was sent to Hades to stop Barbosa and protect our assets, and that’s all I’m trying to do.”
“You are not wrong to carry out your orders,” Ruza interjected. “Without UNN support, we might not have prevailed against Barbosa, and we must remember that. So too should the UNN remember who began the fight and who laid the foundations for a successful operation. The Hadeans are not indebted to the Navy, and when they arrive here, it will be as guests – not masters.”
“You’re siding with them?” Brenner asked.
“I have my qualms about their plans,” Ruza admitted. “Until I know more, I am hesitant to endorse this idea of Hadean PCEs. They are right, however. If they wish to grant Nilsson asylum and put him to work building weapons, they are within their rights to do so. It is simply out of your hands now, Commander.”
“Fine,” Brenner conceded. “I’ll tell Ortega what you’ve decided, but I don’t expect him to be happy about it. I doubt this is the last you’ll hear of it.” He turned to leave the office, passing Ruza on his way out. “It was nice seeing you again,” he said as he walked by. “We should catch up when there’s time.”
“I told you he’d side with us,” Reed said smugly once Brenner was out of earshot.
“Why did you wake me for this?” Ruza demanded. “I am not a politician – I have no say in what happens to Nilsson. Why should Brenner listen to me?”
“Everyone respects you,” Reed explained with a shrug. “Your word counts for a lot.”
“You’ve earned a reputation as a very level-headed and trustworthy figure,” Bergmann added. “We figured we needed someone to mediate before things got ugly.”
“And I have not sided with you,” Ruza chided, scowling at Reed. “I have many questions about these plans of yours. You have woken me early, and I expect you to feed me. Rivera – you will come too. We shall speak more of this matter.”
“Alright,” Rivera said with a shrug.
The two men accompanied Ruza out of the office and out onto the street, where they donned protective masks and helmets to ward off the dust, heading away from the square and down one of the streets.
“Where are we going?” Rivera asked, his voice filtering through his helmet.
“There is a restaurant that I enjoy not far from here,” Ruza replied.
“You really think it’ll be open during rationing?” Reed asked.
“There is but one way to find out,” the Rask replied.
“This is nice!” Reed added. “Just the three of us, like in the old days.”
“I can never tell when you’re being sarcastic,” Rivera complained.
Ruza led them to a prefab, its street-facing wall modified with large windows that looked out over the road, along with a fabric awning that cast it into shade. Within were a few tables and chairs, but it seemed that no customers were inside.
Ruza mounted the metal steps and hit the buzzer, and a moment later, the door slid open a crack to reveal an elderly man’s face.
“Doc?” he asked, squinting against the sunlight.
“Are you open, Harold?” Ruza inquired.
“Well, damn,” Harold muttered as he scratched his balding head. “It sure is good to see you, Doc. Heard all kinds of things with all the fighting going on. I’m sorry, but with the rationing, I ain’t got much to offer. We’ve been closed up for the last few weeks.”
“We will pay you triple,” Ruza insisted.
“Well ... I suppose I could get the oven heated up and see what I can do,” Harold conceded as he opened the door the rest of the way. “Take a seat, and I’ll grab you gentlemen some menus.”
The old man quickly moved a large cushion from a couch and placed it on the floor by the window for Ruza, the two other men pulling up chairs as he hurried off into an adjoining prefab.
“Nice place,” Reed muttered as he glanced around the small room. Ruza had heard it described as rustic, though the decorations that adorned the walls meant little to him. “I dunno about triple price nice. I expected a lot more free meals as a hero of the resistance.”
“Oh, can it,” Rivera grumbled. “You can afford it.”
The owner soon brought them menus, disappearing once more when they selected their meals. Service would be slow, but it would give them plenty of time to talk without being disturbed.
“It is my belief that we all want the same thing,” Ruza began, glancing around the small table.
“I think we’re in couples therapy,” Reed whispered, making Rivera roll his eyes.
“A strong and independent Hades benefits everyone,” Ruza continued. “This, we all support, correct?” He waited for both men to nod in agreement before continuing. “There are elements of truth to both arguments. The PCEs would be a great asset to Hades, but I too have my qualms about their use, and about granting Nilsson’s request. He is not innocent in all this. Rivera – why not tell us your position first?”
They were interrupted as Harold returned with drinks, placing glasses and bottles on the table before retreating to the kitchen again, the scent of cooking food wafting through the open door.
“My position is that Nilsson is a criminal who deserves to be brought to justice,” Rivera began as he popped the cap on his beer. “Whether he’s a victim or not, that’s for an inquest to decide. The guy knows he’s up shit creek if UNNI get their hands on him, which is why he’s asking for asylum.”
“It’s not like I think he’s squeaky clean,” Reed replied. “I just think that he’ll do more good serving us than rotting in some Ninnie black site. Call it community service. Let him repay his debt to Hades by making it stronger and safer.”
“I am concerned about how you intend to implement your plan,” Ruza said. “How do you envision these PCEs to be piloted? Brenner is not wrong to question your adherence to the YST.”
“Sorry, but is that a one-percent beer?” Reed snickered as he watched Ruza drink from a can that was dwarfed by his large hands. “Always tickles me how little booze you can handle, big guy. To answer your question, I don’t really know yet. Maybe some of the recruits will want to keep their prosthetics when they’ve recovered. They went through a lot to get them, and it’s not like the UNN can confiscate them right off their bodies. Some will certainly accept transplants from the Jarilans and forget the whole thing ever happened, but some won’t. They thought they were helping Hades, just like Petrova did, and maybe there’s still a chance for them to do that. Maybe Nilsson can work out a way to pilot a PCE without a shunt. Maybe the Jarilans or the Brokers can help. I’m not a science guy – I just know that having those suits will make us safer.”
“Rivera, you must admit that the PCEs would be a uniquely powerful weapon to be wielded defensively by the Hadeans,” Ruza prompted. “Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that they are deployed in an ethical manner. What harm is there in having them?”
“A big assumption,” Rivera grumbled. “It’s easy to make it sound like Brenner and I are arguing against Hades having an independent military, but the Commander is right about a lot of things. Whether their use is ethical or not, they’re Navy property, and they were never intended to be deployed. Nilsson is a wanted criminal, and he carries sensitive secrets about that black site that he could spread or sell or who knows what?”
“He’s also probably the only man alive who can produce more PCEs,” Reed added. “No Nilsson, no PCEs. Here’s how I see it,” he continued, leaning his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “The Admiralty created the black site. They hired Nilsson. They created the PCEs, among other very illegal projects. It was their cronies who attacked the site, and it was their cronies who brought Nilsson here and invaded our colony. None of these things are our problem. Now that the crisis is over, they want Nilsson back, and they want the whole thing scrubbed clean. This entire situation is their fault, but they want us to give up something valuable because ... why? To help them save face? Explain to me why the average Hadean should give a damn how the Admiralty looks after all this.”
“You’re always eager to tell us that you don’t work for the Navy anymore,” Rivera began. “But I do. I have superiors to answer to and orders to carry out. SatCom is back online, and the Admiralty has sent down the order to secure Nilsson.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Reed continued. “Do I need to worry about Brenner doing some black ops shit and abducting Nilsson?”
“No, of course not,” Rivera sighed. “Especially now, the Navy will need to tread very carefully. All eyes will be on Hades. There’s going to be a lot of upset and chaos with all the inquests and internal investigations.”
“May they excise any rot they uncover,” Ruza growled. “From my perspective, we are all allies here. More than allies – we are friends, and we should not be making demands or ultimatums of one another. Rivera – if the Hadeans do not wish to give up Nilsson, there is little that can be done.”
“I can toast to that,” Reed said, raising his bottle.
“But,” Ruza added, giving him a stern look to tell him to be quiet. “Their concerns about Nilsson and the ethical questions surrounding the PCEs are valid.”
“Thank you,” Rivera said.
“I propose that Hades shall keep custody of Nilsson, but that Naval Intelligence shall have access to him for questioning,” Ruza continued. “They may conduct their investigation, but only on Hades, under the supervision of Hadean authorities.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Reed conceded with a shrug. “As long as we get to keep him here.”
“I can probably get Brenner to pitch that to the Admiralty,” Rivera said with a nod. “I don’t know what they’ll say – it’s out of my hands, but I can pass it along. What about the PCEs?”
“If there is to be an independent Hadean military, then it must have proper oversight,” Ruza continued as he looked to Reed. “We have all seen firsthand the consequences of secrecy. It must be under the authority of the civilian government, with the Governor of the colony as its commander. Many hospitals have ethics boards. We shall establish one to oversee the PCE program. Independent third parties, civilians, and medical professionals will review its progress and sign off on any aspects that may infringe on the YST. The Navy will have a part in this, as will I.”
“You?” Reed asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
“I am a medical professional, and I am familiar with human augmentation,” Ruza explained. “I am well-suited to such an endeavor. We shall tolerate no abuse.”
“I’d certainly feel a lot better about it in that case,” Rivera said. “Again, not my call – I’m just the messenger, but it’s a better proposal than kiss my ass.”
“Our bonds must remain strong if Hades is to prosper,” Ruza insisted. “As the Valbarans say, do we have consensus?”
“I’m a lot happier than I was at the meeting,” Rivera conceded.
“Yeah, I think we can work with that,” Reed replied.
They paused their conversation as their meals arrived, Harold balancing the plates deftly in his hands.
“I whipped up whatever I could with what I had,” the old man warned as he set the plates down before each of them. “Hope it’s alright.”
“Damn,” Reed muttered, rolling up some creamy pasta on his fork. “Maybe this place is worth the premium after all.”
“There are many details still to discuss,” Ruza pressed.
“Gives us time for dessert,” Rivera said.
“Reed told me you’ve been playing mediator,” Amy said smugly, watching him from behind her desk as he entered the clinic. “Said you might have set up a deal between the Navy and the Hadeans.”
“I simply forced them to stop arguing and listen to one another,” he grumbled as he hung his jacket on a rack beside the door.
“I thought you weren’t getting into politics?”
“I am not,” he insisted.
“Uh-huh,” she replied with a smirk. “Word has already spread about the clinic being back up and running. The phone has been lighting up all morning, and we have a packed schedule. The first shipment of medical supplies from Ortega came in when you were out to lunch, too. I almost had a heart attack seeing a PDF truck pull up outside again. I need to recalibrate my brain. The first patients should be arriving shortly. I’ll be running some numbers on the food situation if you need me.”
“Very good,” he replied. “It will be a welcome change to solve some small problems. You have already cleaned the clinic and unpacked the supplies?” he marveled, seeing that the shelves in his office were stocked once more.
“Didn’t take long,” she chimed, turning her eyes back to her display.
“I feel I owe you a raise,” he said.
He headed into his office and got set up, finding that Amy had already taken inventory of the supplies, leaving a tablet computer displaying a list on his desk. He remembered what Ricky had said the night before – how he was worried that he would not be able to return to his old life and resume his old routines. Things certainly felt different. Ruza was at once the same Rask who had left the clinic on that fateful evening, but he was also changed – tempered like steel. He might hold the same shape, but he was harder ... sharper...
Before long, the first patients were arriving, the familiar sound of Amy’s voice greeting them at the door filling him with a kind of calm.
“Miss Bauer!” she chimed. “It’s so good to see you! How are Jessica and Peter doing?”
“Much better, thanks to you and Doctor Ruza,” she replied. “If it wasn’t for you making time to see us during the shortages, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“I see that you’re scheduled for a pediatric checkup,” Amy continued. “You’re the first ones here, so please go right through. What’s this you’ve brought?”
“Just a little something for you and the Doctor.”
“Welcome, Miss Bauer,” Ruza said as she entered his office. Her two children ran ahead of her, apparently eager to see him. Peter, the younger of the two, was already reaching across Ruza’s desk in an attempt to pet his furry hand.
“Doctor Ruza,” their mother sighed. She was holding some kind of woven basket in her hands, and inside were some paper packages and a large jar, its lid wrapped with a colorful bow. “I’m so glad to see you well. They told us that you were hurt during the fighting. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”
“Nothing that will keep me from my work,” he replied with a smile, lifting Peter in one hand like a doll and placing the wriggling child on one of the seats. “What is this?” he added with a look to the basket.
“Just a little token of our appreciation,” she explained, leaning past her daughter to set the basket on his desk. “I know that you don’t charge for your services, but you’ve done so much for us, and I’m not just talking about medicine. There’s been a lot of gossip and speculation following the occupation, and your name comes up often. Things are tight for everyone right now, but I hope you’ll accept this. There’s some fresh bread and some preserves that I’ve been holding onto.”
“It would be rude of me to refuse,” Ruza replied, bowing his head. “Thank you for the gift.”
“It’s strawberry flavor,” Jessica added as she peeked around her mother’s long shawl.
“Is that right?” Ruza chuckled. “Now, how have you both been feeling? Let us determine whether the last round of antibiotics had the desired effect on Jessica’s chest infection. You will be needing more medicated charges for Peter’s inhaler – I have a fresh box that came in this morning.”
The checkup didn’t take very long, and the family was soon heading out of his office with their little bag of medical supplies. Ruza was carrying Peter in one arm as the boy chewed on a piece of candy that Amy had placed in his office drawer, useful as a bribe for more excitable children, tugging at his fur with one tiny hand.
As Ruza saw them to the door, it slid open, and Petrova stepped inside. She was carrying a large box in her prosthetic hands, stepping aside to let Miss Bauer and her children pass. Bauer seemed a little surprised by the sight of a SWAR agent, ushering Jessica out onto the street before turning to take Peter from Ruza.
“Bye, kitty!” Peter declared as his mother wrestled his rebreather onto him.
“Thanks again, Doctor Ruza,” she said as she hurried out through the door.
“Be sure to call us if you have any concerns,” he called after them.
“Who was that?” Petrova asked, seeming amused by the interaction.
“The first of today’s patients,” Ruza replied, picking a stray piece of candy out of the fur on his arm. “It is a relief to be working in the clinic once more. What have you brought me?” he asked, glancing down at the box.
“Oh, they left behind some of the medical supplies earlier,” she replied as she adjusted the box’s weight in her mechanical hands. “I wasn’t busy, so I figured I’d come down and deliver them myself.”
“Quite a walk,” Amy muttered from the desk behind them, turning her eyes back to her display when Petrova glanced at her.
“Thank you,” Ruza said, taking the box from her. “These must be the adhesive patches that were missing from our inventory.”
She followed him to his office as he returned to place the box on a shelf, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, her eyes wandering to the gift basket on his desk.
“Is that a jar of jam?” she chuckled. “These people don’t have much – even less after all the rationing. They must really appreciate you if they’re bringing gifts.”
“I do not charge for my services, but it would be rude to refuse a gift,” he replied as he slotted the box into place. He lifted Amy’s tablet from the desk and entered it into the inventory, carefully pressing the small touch controls with his pads.
“You’re kind of a war hero, you know,” she continued.
“Is that so?”
“I don’t mingle much with the civilians for obvious reasons, but the Marines and PDF are always talking about you when they’re off-duty. Maybe it’s because they’ve heard about your exploits, or maybe it’s just because you stand out so much, but one would think you were the leader of the resistance.”
“I am sure that such talk irks Reed,” Ruza said with a faint smirk.
“You’re good with kids,” she added, gesturing over her shoulder.
“Miss Bauer’s children suffer from frequent respiratory issues resulting from the harsh climate,” he explained. “An all too common affliction for young Hadeans, I fear. During the conflict, we made frequent forays into the city to deliver inhaler charges and antibiotics.”
“I know – it was one of the methods we used to track your activities,” she sighed.
“Children are sometimes afraid of me upon our first meeting,” he continued. “I am large, and they find me intimidating. Bribery is a good method of earning their trust, as is ... petting.”
“Petting?” Petrova scoffed.
“I resemble an Earth animal,” he explained. “A cat. They are beloved domestic pets, and the stroking of their fur is considered therapeutic. Allowing the children to touch my fur or tug my ears while delivering inoculations or performing examinations keeps them distracted.”
“Now there’s a visual,” Petrova chuckled. “Everything I knew about Borealans painted them as explosively violent and quick to anger, so learning that the opposite is true has been an experience.”
“We tend to temper our emotions as we age,” he explained as he sat down on the reinforced chair behind his desk. “Young Borealans are brash, inexperienced, and eager to prove themselves. Their position in their pack is often precarious. Older examples tend to be more secure in their relationships, and they have confidence enough not to employ violence unless necessary. I am older than I appear, and my experiences have given me a ... unique perspective.”
“I remember your story about the gene therapy,” she said. “Seems like the Jarries can work miracles.”
“I am hoping that when they arrive here, they will be able to reverse some of the damage Barbosa did,” he continued. “As for your limbs...”
“Still thinking about it,” she replied, moving the subject along. “Brenner seems a lot happier. He was pissed off this morning, but Rivera brought him some good news. Am I to assume that the Navy and the Hadeans have come to some kind of agreement? Nobody has had time to tell me much – not that I’m officially part of the chain of command or anything. Not really sure where I stand right now.”
“Hades may be keeping Nilsson and forming their own PCE force,” Ruza explained. “I volunteered to help establish an ethics committee to oversee the project if it goes forward.”
“Playing mediator, too?” she mused. “I can imagine that Reed’s initial offer wasn’t exactly diplomatic.”
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