“Oi, We all go’ fam’ly, mate,” Nick said, turning to look at his wife’s cryopod, which was adjacent to his. The cryopod was cracked, just a hairline fracture running diagonally along it. Along with that, the control panel was caved in, dented and crushed by a couch that was upturned next to it. He rushed to it and moved it, slowly, away from the cryopod, looking at the sparking control panel in disbelief. He turned to the projection, yelling. 

“Oi! ‘As me wife in ‘ere, you go’a get ‘er out, you ‘ear me!”