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He paused at the service panel to dial three glasses of koril, the fermented milk Irschchans drank as humans drank wine. Carrying them, he joined his aides, seating himself on the third pile of cushions at the lounge's low table. After the first silent, companionable sips, Thark began filling the other two in.
Kainor rose and went to the service panel, returning with more koril for each of them. He handed out the glasses, sat back down, and took a deep swallow before continuing. "It is possible someone else could have accomplished the same thing, as it is possible someone else could have accomplished most things Rangers have. They are mortals, after all.
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