Trance: So what's happened to Rhade? Isn't he supposed to be helping?
Beka: You'd think. We're shuttling loads and loads of refugees back and forth like crazy. Meanwhile, Rhade turns out to be the biggest load of them all. Intergalactic-energy sucking, alcohol-inhaling load! You know, a shower wouldn't hurt either.
Trance: You feel he's your load?
Beka: Don't even start with that.
Trance: Well, you could help him.
Beka: So could you.
Trance: Ah, no. I can't, really. What is that expression? 'In lieu of a parachute, here's a hanky.'
Beka: Well, at least that'd give him something to cry in other than his drink!