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*Whistles at the impact*
Alright, Lynny-boy, twelve weeks. Tents, swimming, campfi—scratch that.
*After a short while, space around the ship contorts and warps, before the ship itself suddenly disappears from the sky*
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*Whistles at the impact*
Alright, Lynny-boy, twelve weeks. Tents, swimming, campfi—scratch that.
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*Shakes it with a firm grip*
Good luck out there. I get the sense you could all use some right about now.
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*Forces a grin*
Careful what you offer there, Miss. I'm quite the social butterfly.
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*Shakes my head*
Life's not fair. But your concern really does touch me. Tell you what, if any of your men just need a vacation after all this, I won't say no to the company. Not even a little bit.
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The animals are still alive, right? Besides, I can't be asking you to send someone down just so I can talk to them; compared to prison, this will be a cakewalk.
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Yeah, you're right. Hope your lot learned something so this doesn't have to happen again.
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He'll probably be ticked off at himself for losing that one.
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So he was telling the truth, huh? And the General?
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How about the rest of your people? Alive?
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Not the job for me, Miss. But I can't justify wasting any more of your time.