Alex yawned from inside his machine as it trudged alongside the Bull. The Viking was far mor suited for direct combat than any sort of flanking, or artillery-ing, or... really anything else, come to think of it, with a set of weapons and specializations that were about as much use at a distance as a slingshot.

Sam was grumpy again, evidently. Seemed like that guy was always grumbling about something or another, though in truth it seemed a lot of the Company was grumbling about this op. For his part, Alex was over the moon to finally be doing some real good. The Steel Hunters were a job, and the money was good, but it had to be said that he hadn't been exactly thrilled to be flying around space as a thug-for-hire. Ops like this one only came around so often; they were fighting the good fight, rescuing people, bringing them food and medicine. For the first time in a long time, Alex felt like he was doing something... [i]important.[/i]

He piped up over the comms. [color=0072bc]"Doughboy reporting in. I'm here with Jupiter, and I'm definitely seeing that artillery piece. Do we keep going as planned?"[/color] He paused for a moment, then added, [color=0072bc]"Hey, Werewolf, Hare? Don't mess around with those SAMS... I hear that's some real hardware they've got. Don't get blown out of the sky on our account."[/color]

Without waiting for a reply, Alex grabbed the book he kept in his back pocket and flipped to a memorized page. Taking a deep breath, he began to murmur to himself the same verse he had read before every battle, since he joined the Steel Hunters. [color=0072bc]"And death shall have no dominion..."[/color]