NARRATOR: Aboard Cynthetic Certainty...
gunboat: *printed* M39
TAGON: ALL HANDS!
I know it's tight in here, but open decks are ahead.
You are deploying to Gruuli's Legacy, where you will have much more room to breathe.
TAGON: Unfortunately, the crowding will get worse before it gets better.
Your ride is the lone surviving transport from M39, and you will share space with a truck-fun of materiel.
You'll be racking and stacking yourselves like cargo.
TAGON: Don't kick, don't bite, and don't whine about the close quarters.
Just stew in your own angry juices like a fresh can of condensed whoopass.
TAGON: Except this is a relief mission.
No whooping.
TAGON: DISMISSED!
KATHRYN: That metaphor got away from you there at the end.
TAGON: I need a better selection of canned goods.