[ For a moment, Amos shuts the door on Drizzt. Cuts off their connection, leaves him to himself with a frustrated air. Maybe he's busy with a particularly tough piece of debris, maybe he's stopping himself from biting Drizzt's head off — maybe both.

But it's just for a moment, and then Amos comes back. The frustration is still there, and his voice is harder. ]

Well, it's war now. They were going to attack us either way. Doesn't matter that we struck first.

[ Although there's an air of — but that's how you win. You strike first. ]

So. How do you propose we win a war?

[ In the current reality, because we don't start one is no longer an option. ]