KEVYN: Lota, no amount of rubber-hose cryptanalysis is going to get those teraports working... Not now that we know what you've got planned.
ENNESBY: He's right. I can slag those teraports before you can say "boo."
EBBIRNOTH: Wait... rubber-hose? Humans can be compelled with nothing more than a rubber hose? Uniocs need a good lead-pipe beating.
KEVYN: Shhh.
EBBIRNOTH: Your species is soft.
KEVYN: You. Are. Not. Helping.
LOTA: We are at an impasse, then... unless Lota can convince you that those teraports will serve the best interests of Credomarans?
KEVYN: Sure. Convince us.
LOTA: Lota first requires a promise that the teraports can be quickly restored to full functionality.
KEVYN: Ennesby?
ENNESBY: It will only take about half a second to turn them all on again.
LOTA: Thank you.
SFX: WHUMP WHUMP
LOTA: That distant thumping is the cutting charges going off.
The Credomaran interior is beginning to twist and collapse as we speak.
If you turn the teraports back on, you will save millions of lives.
ENNESBY: They're on. And you've got the keys to that back-door now.
LOTA: Boo.
ENNESBY: You're so lucky I'm not the kind of person who will kill millions of people just to make a point.
LOTA: Neither is Lota. The distant thumping is the drum-check for a Burana-bot concert.