Tagon: Ennesby, terminate the connection, now.
Ennesby: Already done, sir.
Tagon: Let me see if I understand this... The sail-ship is being piloted by robots who cast off their organic creators, froze them, and shipped them off somewhere at sublight speeds.
Ennesby: That about sums it up. Not pretty.
Tagon: Can anyone tell me why I shouldn't give the order to detonate terapedo 42, and blast these robots down the throat and back out the sphincter of oblivion?
Ennesby: I don't know. Maybe because they're so disgusting that it's interesting?
Tagon: "Travel the galaxy, meet new and interesting life-forms, and then kill them." It says that right in our charter.
Jevee Ceeta: