Title: Optional

Text: Don't pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait'll you're sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles, see if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence." "Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space." "Yeah. Well I got nowhere else to go. The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. Each paragraph will be a test.

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