|
|
| Rabbot 1, make sure they left. |
Rabbot 1 detects Federation Transporter Energy
Signatures. |
|
|
| Meep! MeMEEp meep. |
Yes, you have cooperated. And I promised
you you wouldn't be harmed if you did. Well, not a real promise, you
realize. More of an offer. |
|
|
| Rabbot 1 detects
no Federation personnel in the clearing. |
Just a local predator
sunning itself on a rock. |
|
|
|
| Excellent. Now,
go and retrieve The Object. |
Yes, yes, let's
get this over with so you can leave! |
|
|
| Gotcha! Mwarr
y'all! |
I've got the mobile
unit! GO! GO! |
|
|
|
| What
is the meaning of - I mean Beep! |
Beep! I am a simple gorilla detector!
Yeah, and I'm Plymouth Rock.
|
|
|
|
NOT HURT I!
That's my line, you bucket of brain bits.
|
Can
you identify the technology? Was the Captain right? |
|
|
| Mmmmm.
Titellium with a minty breath of carbonite. A bit rich for my taste, but.... |
Well?
Is it Swinefleet tech? |
Later, on the Inflict |
|
|
|
| Outstanding
job, crew. Researchers saved, an enemy plan foiled, and the crew bonded
together. |
Excellent
coordination to secure the perimeter... |
|
|
| And
a bang-up job taking out the brainbot. Are you sure you identified the tech correctly? |
I
eat metals, literally for a living, sir. Can you tell the difference between mom's lasagna and replicator's? |
|
|
|
| Well,
we'll let Intelligence chew on that for a while. But I must say you
guys did great, here. |
Oh,
our success was a given, sir. |
|
|
|
| How
do you figure? |
We
had them between a rock and a hard puss. |
