(Calm) “(Looking down at a datapad) Err, Sergeant... Brooks, is it? Looks like your transfer request has been approved.”

(Disgruntled) "It's always this way with brass, I'm telling you. They send you on one op, and before you know it, you're halfway around the 'verse on some backwater planet thanks to some white-collar bastard who... ah, man. Politics. Am I right?"

(Yelling) "That catwalk's gonna fall, get outta there! Move it! Go!"