[And that... is a trigger for Lowell. Insult him, his work, his taste in music, his attitude, fine. But do anything to that machine, and he snaps. He's out of his chair, standing upright in seconds, hands slammed on the desk and glaring at Naoya.]

Get out. You want to fuck around? Throw yourself out a spacelock and save everyone the time. Do you know how many lives are fucked if you damage that piece of equipment?

We don't have time, and I don't have the patience for this bullshit you think you can pull.

[There is, without a doubt, a reason why the technical crews of the Initiative had never really been the face of it.]