Monday August 19, 2002
Narrator:Admiral Breya gets a call from the UNS carrier Dublin
Xinchub:Admiral, it looks like the fleet is doomed. You've killed us all. Congratulations.
Breya:I don't want to be the repository of your last words, General Xinchub.
Xinchub:Oh, these aren't my last words. Before I die, I'm going to see to it that the political powers that put you in charge are all held accountable for you gross incompetence. If I know the media, your name will become anathema, and your family will become targets for every bereaved wacko and exiled powermonger in human space.
Athens:Admiral, Petey just transmitted to me a teraport sequence that will allow the fleet to escape. Shall I retransmit to the rest of the fleet?
Breya:*sigh*. . . The rest of the fleet doesn't have to include the Dublin, does it?
Athens:Only if you don't feel good about killing an entire carrier to be rid of the fat man.