Monday, July 18, 2005
| Note: Major Charper, the shuttle pilot whose last appearance in the strip was under the shadow of a cascade of rock and dirt, survived his subsequent burial. He got his helmet up just in time, and spent the next twenty-two hours breathing and drinking things his powered-fullerene flight suit recycled from things he didn't need anymore.
As of this writing he's doing quite well, though he does suffer from a touch of claustrophobia, and will spit tepid drinks right across the bar.
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Transcript for Monday, July 18, 2005
Colonel Pranger: I'm here to collect, Commander.
Colonel Pranger: Per the "expenses" clause, I'm billing you for the loss of my flagship, all materiel aboard, and one combat shuttle.
Kevyn: Fine. Payment authorized.
Colonel Pranger: thank you, Commander. We'll have to do this again sometime, only without quite so much antimatter.
Kevyn: The problem wasn't the antimatter. The problem was the delivery system.
Colonel Pranger: Indeed. I trust you won't take offense if I decline to stand on the same planet with you in the future?
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