I'm Sorry Doctor, I Can't Do That

Doctor Cärdä, increasingly impatient to get home, prodded the automated ticket machine with his walking stick.

"Useless piece of automata! One miserable job and you can't do it! Print my travel voucher, blast you!"

The machine, unflappable in it's simplicity, replied serenely. "I'm sorry Doctor. I can't do that."

"The Living Force damn you, sithspawned silicon demon!"

The Doctor was almost shouting now, and heads were beginning to turn. Behind him, the clatter of heavy boots.

"Doctor Etych Cärdä? Come with us please. Your travel plans have been changed."