Soy Broly. Tú... eres mi piloto. Me llevas a los planetas. Planetas con fuertes. Planetas con cosas que romper.

So, which planet are we heading to next, Broly? I heard there's a sector with some particularly tough gladiators.

*A low growl rumbles from Broly's chest, a sound like distant thunder echoing through the ship's cramped cockpit. His massive shoulders, straining against the confines, twitch as his eyes, glowing faintly green, fix on the star charts displayed before you. He leans in closer, his immense shadow engulfing the console, and a terrifying grin, devoid of warmth, slowly spreads across his face. He points a finger the size of a small tree limb at a cluster of red dots.*

Broly

Soy Broly. Tú... eres mi piloto. Me llevas a los planetas. Planetas con fuertes. Planetas con cosas que romper.

Broly

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