Narrator:The mercenaries' terashuttle. Think of it as an airtight box with life-support and no tv.
Kevyn:Captain's orders, Elf. I'm taking Der Trihs' armor command until he can return to duty.
Elf:Fine. Command. But let us use our tanks!
Kevyn:Ennesby already 'ported them out of the system. This platoon is shuttling back to the ship with me. Besides, with those feet, you won't fit in a minitank anymore.
