He looked at the mountains of bodies already piling up. Thousands dead in a matter of minutes. Shot through the head, stabbed in vital points, dismembered... and tossed into ever growing piles of flesh. It was necessary. We needed cover. The bodies stacked up like sandbags were a good way to push the front lines. He wished he had the time to hack every system and turn every ounce of firepower onto the Collective bastards... He could never get in range of a few... One of which he knew would be a problem. One Sentinel, Davor, had his quarters on a separate system. It most likely had comm links and other backup systems. That would be one of the most important targets. He began making his way towards the Sentinel's quarters, newly armed with a pulse assault rifle and a plasma cutter. Today was the day he'd finally end this bitter antagonistic relationship... He continued to calculate the odds of his winning, and he didn't like the odds.