[i]My colleagues, my kills.[/i]

Ellis smiled as he gripped the corners of his shipping container. His fingers were strong, and left crinkled handprints in the alloy. His mind was strong, too, and summoned all the will Ellis could employ, his hands covered, concealed in shells of darkness. He lifted. This crate was heavy, too heavy for his hands, but not too heavy for his mind. 

He gathered all his strength, and prepared to Throw it. 

The YMIR roared overhead, synthesized scream rendering the constant machine gun fire nearly inaudible. 

[i]Those Xenos are lucky they're on our side.

I thought we were on their side.

See those bodies? You used to be on their side.

Good point. Maybe I'll just be a professional traitor.

Heh heh, that's not a- heh heh real job heh heh...

Then I'm an entrepeneur.

Whatever helps you sleep at night.[/i]

"[color=0072bc]We need to take that thing out![/color]" The flanging voice of a turian. Ellis' HUD denotes the voice as belonging to Tiberius, the heterochromic biotic. Begrudgingly, he admits to himself that the Turian is right, as he hoists the shipping crate onto his knee. He could lift it with his biotics, but he needs to store his strength. His servos whine as he lifts, higher, and higher. The dark matter he gathers has become a black shell over the container. The enemy mech is still distracted.

"This one's mine!"

He prepared himself,and stretched, and pulled, and bent the energy around the container. He could feel it tensing, like a rubber band. Then it snapped.

The container shot like a bullet, and Ellis shouted a private joke that maybe none other then he now remembers: "Catch!" 

Metal screamed on metal, and the static screech of the Mech overhead was playing hell with Ellis' speakers. He could feel his suit starting to overheat again, and, struggling to reload, shouted "Cover me!" as he rolled toward fresh Cerberus bodies, hoping to hide himself while he cooled down.

The YMIR wasn't dead, but it was as open as any target could ever be.

"KILL IT, AIM FOR THE HEAD!"

He was already starting to sweat, and his vision flickered a bit here and there, and the raging YMIR wasn't helping. He cursed himself again for losing his weapon, fought to keep his focus on changing his heat sinks. Exhaustion wracked his body. The last shot took a lot out of him. "NERO, high... Caloric supplement. Administer until... Vitals stabilize." His vision blurred, and he struggled to retain consciousness, as he knelt among the corpses of his former colleagues.