TRIP:
Status report? Screwed-up!
48 hours. No sleep. System failures cascading down from a near reactor breach. Now the situation room console's gone. Priority? Add it to the list.
We're a mess. Even T'Pol's looking singed. Only one man looks worse than me, but if he will go crawling around the muzzle of an overloading phase cannon he deserves to look a little grubby. Damed Limey. Sacred the crap out of me.
He finishes his report. Glances my way. Smiles.
Soon as we get into the lift, I'm gonna kiss him.
Even in hell, there's gotta be one little moment of heaven.