This Trooper wants to report that his sides have left his post and have broken past the Batteries and into space. OOC: my sides legit hurt. That's beautiful
D'oh. Oh well, we're a department of equine requisitions, someone's gotta have a horse we can... requisition.
Somewhere in the deepest darkest corners of Praxis, a quantronic message is received. "Sigh, alright boys, pack it all up. It looks like we're not getting to do Project Pwny again this year. We'll just have to glad hand with Nomad command and the Black Hand some more come the next Krug."
