Trask
You finally decided to come out of the Jeffries Tube?
Pope
Aye, Captain. It was impossible to see what I was working on up there, and it was cold. My fur just isn't thick enough for this job sometimes.
Trask
I thought your species was from an ice planet.
Pope
Why is it that everybody from the core worlds thinks that every planet has only one climate on the whole world? Ugh. It's my team, sir. They all turned out to be bolt-sorters.
Pope
Every now and then they send you somebody who's not just unskilled but dangerously incompetent. Letting them work on something serious would be very bad. But you can't just fire them. So you make busy work. You tell them to polish the handles on all the tools, to write down every time one indicator light flashes, or to sort out different lengths of bolts.
Trask
And your entire crew in engineering is bolt sorters?
Pope
You got it. There can't be half a brain between all of them, sir.
Trask
Speaking of errors, you didn't actually try to balance the pH of the bio-neural gel pack with Saurian brandy, did you?
Pope
To tell the truth, I just really, really needed a drink at that moment.