Cassian smiled. "Sorry, it wasn't meant to be. Though I've had a few that explain why it could." Even mechanic-brewed spirits, not just redolent of but almost certainly containing engine grease, never had the kick of what the Zanazi priest-prophets drank and inhaled the steam of on Eiloroseint. "I don't know enough to know what I'm in the mood for yet. Can I start with your own favorite?"