What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little mercenary dog? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Cascadian National Guard, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on the rebels, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top ace in the entire Federation armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with railguns the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the radio? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the Federation and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, dog. The storm that comes for you and wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, merc. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my missiles. Not only am I extensively trained in aerial combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Federation Peacekeepers and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of Cascadia, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" contract was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn crown. I will bury you so completely that the Earth will turn over a thousand times before your body is dug up. You're fucking dead, mercenary.