"This thing on? Ey! Cordova! This piece of junk's a workin'!"
"Why's it I'm here for again?"
"To tell those 522nd pendejos that they can go back to the hole they crawled out of,
aaand that we hate 'em for bein' no more than spineless wastes o' breath that went ta' our space
an' polluted it with their rotten stench o' cowardice an' betrayal."
"Eh, amigo, just a question before I do it, the green light 'ere, means the thing's sendin', right?"
"Oh not again!" *Sound of facepalm-age.* "Guess you can go back to messin' with Gentle's head now."
"Eh. One thing. You there, 522nd lads, tis' Alexa Cordova, and I hope y'all die in a fire while drownin' in your own blood. Go rot in hell, and stay out of Corsair space in the future, idiots."