"Our Bob who art in W space, hallowed be your name. Your wormholes come, your murder be done, in W Space, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily killmails, and forgive us our lemmings, as we also have forgiven those who lemminged before us. And lead us not into empty statics, but deliver us from crit wormholes."
--- Galactic Logbook ---
"And that's what you'll never have Bogdan! Friends!" - Colour
"Orbit them closer, I want to hit them with my sword" - Crokus Underhand
"he's not retarded, it's an accent" - Pyotr Dethahal
"I just gigajouled in my pants" - ddiere
"I've never had any friends" - Keithian Crendraven