"Fucking fried circuits everywhere, man....They think we're not the future for some reason." his voice hisses with static. Shitty Bodsoft wetware audio card in his throat is slimy; white gunk building up along the nanosilver Micro-I.C. Improper voltage modulation and regulation. Wet-wires bend. His gloved hands glide along the black obsidian floor and it's decorum of filth and rot. Carbon remnants, still smoldering. Somewhere down there...He was somewhere down there.
"No telling how deep." his Red-eyed CyberPirate companion offers up a grim surmise. "That's why They have Them..." Captain Bloodwhiskers smiles behind his beard. Their score back at the Silver-Jupiter Amethyst mining company meant nothing if they couldn't get through.