NARRATOR: Bristlecone, Command Deck...
TAGON: Slip around to the south side of the godwall, and then climb. That should keep the surgery team out of the kill zone.
TAGON: Elf, get a reload team ready. Chelle's the only one aboard who has done it before.
NARRATOR: North side of the broken godwall, field surgery...
SHODAN: I called Chelle. She's got the CN11 in hand, and is grabbing an escort.
TAILOR: Tell her to hurry.
SHODAN: I thought you had Ch'vorthq stabilized?
TAILOR: I may have used the wrong word there. How do you feel about "slowly burning to death?"
NARRATOR: Maindeck...
ELF: Chelle! We need to reload the missile pods!
CHELLE: I'm already spoken for, Commander.
It's easy to do, though. Bristlecone can teach a monkey to do it.
ELF: We're fresh out of monkeys. I'm going to have to resort to using corporals.
NARRATOR: Command Deck...
BRISTLECONE: Captain, the incoming salvo is ten times larger than the first one.
TAGON: How quickly can we reload the missile pods?
BRISTLECONE: Not that quickly.
NARRATOR: Field surgery...
SHODAN: Will the CN11 kit stop the burning?
TAILOR: No. It's just a place for us to put his brain while we watch his body auto-immolate.
PI: I have a new favorite word.
NARRATOR: Maindeck...
CHELLE: Wilson! Eccles! Hardsuits, now!
And pucker up. We're deploying hot.
ECCLES: The hardsuits have auto-catheters, ma'am. They're sort of... self-puckering.
CHELLE: Nice one, Eccles. Now stow the chatter until you've got force multipliers all up in your funny places.