"Brave? Not particularly," the man responded before taking another sip of his coffee. "But that's what this is for."

	Reaching into his labcoat, he retrieved a small radio and muttered something unintelligible into it, then quickly received something unintelligible back that seemed to satisfy his curiosity. He listened to the story of the man in the vent, his eyes lazily glancing over to the grate Felix had just been working on, before looking back at the terminal. "Nice," he remarked, though it wasn't possible to tell if he was talking to his radio, about vent man, the lucky catch with the camera, or the taste of his coffee. By the time the sentries were burning corpses, though, his interest in Felix's work went from casual to deadly serious. "Bloo-dee hell," he exhaled, suddenly glancing back at the vent as the realization hit.

	"You don't reckon vent-man is being escorted right back in that direction, do you?" he asked, though he didn't really sound like he was asking for an opinion. "I'd, ah, seal those exits, if you could—and the vents, if such a thing is possible—if it's not, I know one place where it is—" he rattled off, his voice getting faster as the adrenaline kicked in—much more effective than the coffee that was thrown, mug and all, into the nearest bin. "Gather anyone who will listen to you and tell them that they've got a shiny new high-security clearance, but they'll have to be ready to fight for it," he said as he flashed his badge at Felix to show him what he was up to, before taking off back to where he came from—the deeper cells where the freaks were held, and yet deeper in, to a place that didn't officially exist.

	As the man entered the high-security block, he wordlessly motioned for guard after guard to follow him. The guards in this particular block were used to this, and would follow him without asking any questions—though they did give each other questioning looks as their numbers increased more and more. He didn't need [i]this[/i] many guards to escort that girl, right? Motioning for them to wait right outside the door to the lab, he entered alone, rushing over to his computer. It was only at sixty-eight percent; way too slow. He thought for a moment. If this was about an outbreak, wouldn't they leave her be, if he left her in containment? On the other hand, if containing the contagion was a secondary priority to a coverup... If he had to interrupt this process, it would be bad, but not as bad as death. Still, he had a bit more time left to bide. "Barz," he barked at the door guard. "I've gathered most of the guards in this block outside. Go tell them to round up everyone else in this block and allow emergency entry to anyone coming through the door to block E. Except Draught Sentries—they're killing everyone, including guards, staff and crew. They are your enemies until further notice."

	Barz smiled at the mention of his old mercenary name. A balding Tulak with enough enhancements to be mistaken for an Arraxi, he took the news of incoming Draught Sentries pretty well. "Hah! That's great news! I hate them fuckers," he remarked on his way out.