[Occupied, he reads the text first, immediately chastised at the words on the screen. The sensation is annoying and bitterly humbling. It's like he's standing in his childhood home once more, older sister across from himβhands planted on hips as she delivers a lecture in rapid Russian. It's that tone. That 'Alexei, you know what you did' brand of disciplinary judgment.
What the hell? He'd never asked for that first weirdo to bother him. It's not his fault.
The voicemail isn't so scalding, but it provides text with a voice. Ugh. Less like his sister, and much more the Alliance officers who hated him from the moment he first tried to enlist. Stiffly disappointed.]
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What the hell? He'd never asked for that first weirdo to bother him. It's not his fault.
The voicemail isn't so scalding, but it provides text with a voice. Ugh. Less like his sister, and much more the Alliance officers who hated him from the moment he first tried to enlist. Stiffly disappointed.]