"Not so rough, s'il-vouz-plaît," Pierre called out as the guards pulled him out of the airlock. "This suit was expensive."
The three prison watchmen glanced at each other uncertainly, then one shrugged, snorted derisively, and muttered "Gaijin." The other two laughed and continued tugging the slightly offended Gaul into a dimly lit corridor.
"Where are the pilots that brought me here?" Pierre asked as he sadly assessed the damage that was being dealt to his suit's sleeves. The leader of the three Kusarians looked at him as though he must be dealing with a madman. Then he barked an order at the other two and they doubled the pace at which Pierre was shoved down the hallway.
"Merde," the Gaul growled as a long tear appeared on his right sleeve. "This is absolutely unnecessary, messieurs." His complaints were ignored.
