I wonder if they have vodka. Eric glances at the bottle before walking over to the bar.
After a moment, No, tequila won’t do! Do I look like a first-year academy student to you?
He walks back to the group, sighing. The Kommandant lost his eye in the same way I did: fighter malfunction. Only in his version of events, there was some sort of complication that prevented a cybernetic graft.
It also must have taken out a few brain cells. Erik Aramond spells our damn name wrong. Takes a swig of OJ.