Relax, the bad guys don’t knock. (Romeo)

The man hates your guts more than Stryker does. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t pull your spine out through your nostrils. (Tory) Nice to have Miss Merry Sunshine back again. Any other Eeyore outlooks you’d like to share? (Acheron)

Ewwww-eee-wwww. Hey Ash, you vant to suck my blud? (Fang) No, thanks. The last thing I want is to catch parvo from you, or some other freaky dog disease that makes me lift my leg around hydrants. (Acheron)

Any more bitching from the geriatric crew? What a bunch of old women. Should I hire another crewmate to change your bed diapers while I’m at it? Next time I’ll let The League have you. Vik, I’m relinquishing control back to you. (Devyn) It’s what I live for. By the way, ye organic life forms aren’t the only ones who’ve soiled themselves. Can I have a minute to attend my needs, Captain Asshole? (Vik)

You can’t die, Vik. You’re a mechbot. (Syn) They can pull me apart and reprogram me. Trust me, that’s death. Now shush before they find us. Remember – hide, people, hide. (Vik)

Dammit, Vik. How can you not know what’s wrong with this thing? Can’t you commune with it or something? (Devyn) My name is not ‘Dammit, Vik’ and I find it ironic that you think I can commune with all metal beings when you can barely communicate your point of view to your own parents. And they birthed you. I did not give birth to this ship. Last time I checked, I was male and that would be impossible on a multitude of levels. (Vik)

I wish I could just fling myself into bed with you, but I can’t. I don’t want to be used that way and I don’t want to use you! Can’t you understand that?