Mudcrabs. Horrible creatures. [ Martin, utterly serious about this, purses his lips in distaste, as if something bitter took residence in his mouth. ]

I'm sorry, about the war. [ I just came back from one, threatens to leave his lips. But, unlike many, he dislikes speaking about himself, or making a conversation about himself.

Looks like he'll be forced to anyways. ] As I said, I came here willingly. I'd just gotten done fighting and winning a war for my people. I...died. They promised that if I worked for them my world would never be threatened again. Considering they were able to contact me in the first place, I considered them powerful enough to keep their end of the bargain.

I'm starting to realize that might've been a mistake.