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Narrator:The rescue team at target echo has discovered their commander's corpse. They missed the action, but perhaps they are not too late after all...
Schlock:Get the cryokits in here! Kevyn's body is still warm!
Schlock:I mean, sure, it's smoking a little bit, but that could be leftover body heat.
Nick:There's three of 'em here. Which one has dad extra-special automagic doctor thingy in it?
Shep:I dunno. They all look the same to me.
Narrator:We here at schlock mercenary would like to take a moment to apologize to the artificial intelligence community for shep's grossly insensitive racist remark. Just because people of machine-thought have identical mass-produced, burnished polyceramic casings and not one outwardly visible distinguishing feature other than the mostly-rubbed-off serial number in four pount font on the inside edge of the hidden control plate, that is no reason to say hurtful things like "they all look the same to me." We won't let it happen again.
Narrator:Fifteen minutes later...
EMH:That's all I can do, lieutenant.
Elf:I'll go tell the troops.
Elf:Schlock, it doesn't look good. Kevyn's body picked up too much heat, and his brain got a little, umm... overcooked.The 'kit says it can bring him back, and there may even be a shadow of the old Kevyn in there, but mostly he'd be a vegetable.
Schlock:I don't care. He was my friend. I'll take care of him myself, if that's what it takes.
DoytHaban:Guys, I've got great news! Kevyn copied himself using a wormgate! He's alive and well! I just talked to him!
Schlock:Then again, a mercenary company is no place for a drooling idiot, right?
Elf:The drool would be a little awkward at meal-times, yeah.