Close quarters combat. Well, possibly. Mostly, the goal was to arrest the bad guys, free the civvies. But also, CLOSE QUARTERS COMBAT. Ellis’ favorite. There was nothing quite like the thrill of feeling an enemy soldier flail against your armor, helpless to stop you as you squeeze, squeeeeeze squeeeeeeeeze on his helmet until crack goes his helmet and crunch goes his skull, spilling hot slime and gore like a smashed pumpkin.
Out of all of his new teammates, Vella seemed the one most suited to pair up with Ellis. She was clearly impulsive, which would compliment Ellis' predatory prowling quite nicely. The Krogans would be the most superlative of diversions, and the Drell, he was certain, would prove useful in the thick of battle. He seemed almost... familiar. The Turian...
SO MANY ALIENS!
"I hope you are turncoat through and through!" She was right. He was a traitor now, wasn't he? No matter. The Asari seemed to fear him. He saw intrigue in her eyes, but also a tinge of uneasiness. Could it be the lack of visible skin? The synthetic voice filter? The fact that he was more machine than man? She was in his squad and must certainly be aware of his ability to kill her and dispose of her body quickly and easily. But then, she behaved as a child does. As one borne of innocence. But this new undertaking, this was war. He'd have to keep an eye on her. An innocent soul has no business in war, but if she insists, someone will have to look after her. Ellis sighed.
I guess I can watch her back.
That's the spirit.
And then, there was the lovely Turian.
Just sheer dumb luck that she wasn’t in his division. He didn’t need the distractions. He’d be distracted enough. After all, he might be shooting at old colleagues or subordinates. It sounded like fun, shooting old coworkers. Like, Mary from the Provisions department. Or Kareem from Accounts and Records.
Or Samuel. That rat bastard from Alpha One-One, Combat Infantry. Fuck Samuel. The good thing was, he’d only ever had to shout at Samuel’s helmet, so for all he knew, THEY COULD ALL BE SAMUEL.
JUST IMAGINE: They’re all Samuel. When you see them, every Centurion, every Grunt, every Specialist-
They’re all Samuel?
Every fucking one of them.
Ellis wondered if they might recognize him. It was possible, he supposed, as his suit was one-of-a-kind. And he did work closely with a lot of the ground troops. His stumps ached in reality, but he felt it in his fingers. He wondered how Cerberus was faring without their leader, as Shepherd had singlehandedly ruined nearly all of their conspiracies. He wondered about the number of Cerberus combat forces, then assured himself it didn't matter. They always followed Greek troop movements. He wondered how many Cerberus noncombat personnel there were, then reminded himself that they were still considered enemy combatants, so far as he was concerned. He wondered how they would all fare if there were another complication, if maybe he-
“If Cerberus is involved, it’s plausible that their troops recognize me. It’s likely that my resignation was not a widespread fact. It is altogether possible that they will accept me on sight, allowing me to open the way for the team. We may be able to infiltrate the operation without arousing any suspicion.”
Say ‘sir’.
“Sir. Partinax.”
He outranks you. Don’t call him by name.
“Sir.”
His eyes wandered back to the gorgeous Turian. Her skin sparkled. Like the stars…
Shut up, idiot.
It felt like his body were being charged up, like a battery. He needed to vent this pressure, before he exploded.
“So, Sir, when do we get going? I’m eager to get started.”
Alright, Samuel. You’ve done some bad things, and we’re here to FUCK YOUR LIFE.
Wait, no. We’re here to… detain you? That doesn’t seem quite right.
I really hope he shoots at us. That makes it okay to kill him, right?
God, look at her eyes-
Samuel. Back to Samuel. If one Samuel shoots at us, can we kill all Samuels?
What if one Samuel shoots, and another surrenders?
I suppose I’ll just play it by ear.
Ellis made a mental note, taking inventory of all of his gear. His Talon, freshly loaded, on his hip. His Mattock, collapsed on his back, fresh and ready to go, calibrated to fabricate antimaterial piercing rounds rather than soft antipersonnel ammo. He’d already checked his omni-tool several times, and reminded himself that his omni-blade application was set to project a Batarian Enforcement Gauntlet. He’d loaded his suit earlier, four thermal clips, another four in reserve, and his heat sinks read in the green. His blood pressure spiked again.
Soon. Soon. We're ready. Just waiting for them.
He was dressed to kill and exert his will.
“You know what, I like your idea better. Let's knock first. It might be good to-" GET DIRTY "play it professionally."
Out of all of his new teammates, Vella seemed the one most suited to pair up with Ellis. She was clearly impulsive, which would compliment Ellis' predatory prowling quite nicely. The Krogans would be the most superlative of diversions, and the Drell, he was certain, would prove useful in the thick of battle. He seemed almost... familiar. The Turian...
SO MANY ALIENS!
"I hope you are turncoat through and through!" She was right. He was a traitor now, wasn't he? No matter. The Asari seemed to fear him. He saw intrigue in her eyes, but also a tinge of uneasiness. Could it be the lack of visible skin? The synthetic voice filter? The fact that he was more machine than man? She was in his squad and must certainly be aware of his ability to kill her and dispose of her body quickly and easily. But then, she behaved as a child does. As one borne of innocence. But this new undertaking, this was war. He'd have to keep an eye on her. An innocent soul has no business in war, but if she insists, someone will have to look after her. Ellis sighed.
I guess I can watch her back.
That's the spirit.
And then, there was the lovely Turian.
Just sheer dumb luck that she wasn’t in his division. He didn’t need the distractions. He’d be distracted enough. After all, he might be shooting at old colleagues or subordinates. It sounded like fun, shooting old coworkers. Like, Mary from the Provisions department. Or Kareem from Accounts and Records.
Or Samuel. That rat bastard from Alpha One-One, Combat Infantry. Fuck Samuel. The good thing was, he’d only ever had to shout at Samuel’s helmet, so for all he knew, THEY COULD ALL BE SAMUEL.
JUST IMAGINE: They’re all Samuel. When you see them, every Centurion, every Grunt, every Specialist-
They’re all Samuel?
Every fucking one of them.
Ellis wondered if they might recognize him. It was possible, he supposed, as his suit was one-of-a-kind. And he did work closely with a lot of the ground troops. His stumps ached in reality, but he felt it in his fingers. He wondered how Cerberus was faring without their leader, as Shepherd had singlehandedly ruined nearly all of their conspiracies. He wondered about the number of Cerberus combat forces, then assured himself it didn't matter. They always followed Greek troop movements. He wondered how many Cerberus noncombat personnel there were, then reminded himself that they were still considered enemy combatants, so far as he was concerned. He wondered how they would all fare if there were another complication, if maybe he-
“If Cerberus is involved, it’s plausible that their troops recognize me. It’s likely that my resignation was not a widespread fact. It is altogether possible that they will accept me on sight, allowing me to open the way for the team. We may be able to infiltrate the operation without arousing any suspicion.”
Say ‘sir’.
“Sir. Partinax.”
He outranks you. Don’t call him by name.
“Sir.”
His eyes wandered back to the gorgeous Turian. Her skin sparkled. Like the stars…
Shut up, idiot.
It felt like his body were being charged up, like a battery. He needed to vent this pressure, before he exploded.
“So, Sir, when do we get going? I’m eager to get started.”
Alright, Samuel. You’ve done some bad things, and we’re here to FUCK YOUR LIFE.
Wait, no. We’re here to… detain you? That doesn’t seem quite right.
I really hope he shoots at us. That makes it okay to kill him, right?
God, look at her eyes-
Samuel. Back to Samuel. If one Samuel shoots at us, can we kill all Samuels?
What if one Samuel shoots, and another surrenders?
I suppose I’ll just play it by ear.
Ellis made a mental note, taking inventory of all of his gear. His Talon, freshly loaded, on his hip. His Mattock, collapsed on his back, fresh and ready to go, calibrated to fabricate antimaterial piercing rounds rather than soft antipersonnel ammo. He’d already checked his omni-tool several times, and reminded himself that his omni-blade application was set to project a Batarian Enforcement Gauntlet. He’d loaded his suit earlier, four thermal clips, another four in reserve, and his heat sinks read in the green. His blood pressure spiked again.
Soon. Soon. We're ready. Just waiting for them.
He was dressed to kill and exert his will.
“You know what, I like your idea better. Let's knock first. It might be good to-" GET DIRTY "play it professionally."