Gladiaxa
The Glitcher lights up with a red rectangular hologram. Space wrinkles again, and Hexer appears in place of the Glitcher, holding a golden, baroque-styled frying pan out of all things. He immediately drops the pan.
"Never realized I would send such an idiot to a wise conversation. My excuses for whatever stupidity he spouted. Now on the war. We both have lost here. If neither side can achieve victory, then what is it? A draw? How can there be a draw if we lost three billion people just by trying to avoid combat? Three billion lives taken by my hand!... mostly. Now, of course, you might as well kill me and resolve this excuse for a war right here. Morality of that is best left to you and families of your soldiers, unless they are clones, in that case you're a sad person. I sincerely do not care about UG or some other crap far out of my league at the current moment. Do whatever you want, but only because trying to oppose you is not in Offworld's best interests. Here. Take this six-damned pan and leave with peace, you predators."
Hexer tosses the pan at the diplomat and magjumps away along with the bit of chicken that appeared on the Glitcher's head before.
