*Gloating*

"Doctor Prowse, again there is nothing you can posses which I cannot take away. And you thought I had given up. You chose the wrong friends. This time, it will cost you."

With poison? no. I think an archaeologist such as ourselves deserve a more fitting end. Entombed in a temple, flattened by a booby trap, mauled by an indigenous beast.

I was speaking to you in the politeness of the pretense as peers of xeno archaeology, but clearly I was mistaken. Again, you put your trust in the wrong people. You are far to predictable. I recommend that you come clean and tell me what you are really doing here? Your life depends on it,