«Again they are slamming hatches like they are at home. How to explain to them that it is impossible to do this with technology? Everything has a limit! The heart is already coughing up oil splashes, no longer able to chew gasoline half and half with the ground. But I'm still holding on and dragging my crew to the next point on the map, where people decided to defend their mercantile interests at the cost of my resource. It's hard to say what I want less - to turn into a dying skeleton here, in impenetrable forests, or to sleep peacefully under a centimeter layer of dust in one of the technical museums. Both outcomes are equally disgusting, but it all depends on the crew. I still can't live without him.

As well as him without me - there are no spare parts for the guys inside.»