Alex cursed and ducked behind some cover as the Alliance marines opened fire on them, grabbing James' arm and pulling him down when he didn't react fast enough. Damn kid would get his head blown off if Alex didn't keep an eye on him.

It'll be an easy job, he'd said. It's just a routine pickup, he'd said. Well guess what, Scarface? It's NOT.

Alex growled and waited for a break in fire before jerking up and lining up a shot with his pistol at the top of one of their heads just barely visible above the lip of the wall they were behind. The marine's shields took the hit, but it was enough to make the man jerk in surprise and duck down lower. If he had been alone, Alex would have just walked over to their cover and beaten their faces in. But as it was, a few of his fellow recruits were still alive, and they weren't quite injured enough to pass off seeing him take a bunch of assault rounds to the chest as a hallucination.

"Where the hell is Ethan?" Alex yelled into his mic, hearing only panicked voices on the other end. Apparently Scarface's group had found trouble as well. Served him right.

His eyes widened as a small spherical object bounced over their cover and headed for them. Hundreds of consumed marines and soldiers lurched to the forefront of his consciousness and he reacted almost without thought. He grabbed the grenade in mid-air and threw it back over the cover within the span of a single heartbeat.

One full second later the grenade detonated and he heard the screaming of some unfortunate marine caught in the blast. James was staring at him wide-eyed and Alex just scowled at him.

He'd given up trying to hide his strength and his speed considering almost everyone had either seen or heard about his disagreement with those five thugs, but there were some things that simply weren't human. Catching a grenade in the air and returning it to sender was one of them.

"Meat, did you retrieve the cargo?" Ethan's voice crackled over the com, and Alex growled.

"We're pinned down by a dozen damn Alliance marines, Scarface. So no. No we have not retrieved the cargo."

To punctuate his statement, someone—he wasn't sure who—fired a shotgun and one of the recruits collapsed as his shields failed. Shitty gear.

"Who was that?" Ethan demanded as he barked orders to his own squad.

"Hell if I know," Alex admitted, looking across the room to the unmoving recruit. "You know everyone looks the same with those damn helmets on."

James tapped his arm and signed 'Andrew.'

Alex rolled his eyes. "James says it was some kid named Andrew."

Ethan swore. "Dammit. Hold your position; we're on our way."

"Take your time," Alex replied in a sweet voice. "Not like we're being shot at or anything, Scarface." Alex shut the com off as he popped out of cover and emptied his clip into one of the marines that didn't get to cover in time. Six shots took out the shield, two clipped him, and the ninth buried itself in the center of his helmet and the man didn't get up again.

It would be so much easier if he could just form his blade and jump into their cover like a terrier among rats, but that would probably just get him shot at from his own men and he didn't feel like killing them all and making up an excuse to Ethan. The marines took exception to him killing their friend and opened fire on him, two shots managing to clip him as he ducked down. His shields had failed a while ago, before he'd remembered he couldn't just shrug off mortal wounds like he usually did, but he didn't let on that he'd been hit. No one was close enough to see him but James, and Alex was the only one in the whole outfit who knew what the hell James was saying when the kid tried to communicate.

One of the other recruits tried to mimic him and got gunned down for his trouble, and Alex just sighed irritably. At this rate, everyone would be dead except him and James. And while that was ideal, it would be hard to explain to Ethan.

"For the love of… keep your heads down!" Alex yelled at the few Blue Suns recruits that were still conscious. He growled to himself as he lowered his voice. "Am I the only one here with any damn combat experience?"

James made a face and chambered a round in his SMG before popping around the side of their cover and peppering the marines with the spray, managing to injure three of them before the heat sink popped out. When he ducked back around cover he pulled up his omni-tool and began to fiddle with it.

Ten seconds later and the marines behind cover yelled in alarm as a combat drone appeared in front of them and began zapping them with a taser. The marines that left cover in an attempt to get away from the drone were downed quickly by James' SMG and Alex's assault rifle until the screaming stopped and everyone fell silent.

Alex motioned for the others to stay down as he slowly stood and left cover, approaching the low wall the marines had hid behind. He peered over the edge and saw only a bunch of corpses. "Clear!" he yelled back, and the recruits stood shakily as they approached.

Alex stepped away from the wall and ran armored fingers through his hair as he sighed. Two kids down. Not too bad, he supposed, considering they were all about as good with a gun as Dana would have been.

No, that's doing Dana a disservice. Even she could have handled the fight better.

"You," Alex pointed at one of the recruits, who jumped. "Go find the weapon crates Ethan wants." The recruit snapped a salute—Alex had to stifle a snort—and all but sprinted into the next room to find the cargo. Alex turned to James, who was trying to work the stiffness out of his legs from crouching so long. "Why didn't you tell me you were an Engineer?"

James just stared at him. 'You didn't ask.'

Alex kept his eyes locked on him until the younger man backed off, looking away awkwardly. "Don't be a smart ass." Alex kicked one of the dead marines. "Any ideas what these idiots were doing here?"

"Someone must have tipped them off," one of the recruits spoke up, voice altered by his ridiculous Blue Suns helmet. Alex would rather take a sniper round to the head than wear one.

Alex put a hand to his chin in thought, staring at the nervous recruit, who shifted feet. "No way. Really? I never would have considered that." Alex rolled his eyes and waved at the dead marines. "Search them. Maybe they like to keep records, and we can always use the guns."

"S-sir?" the nervous one stammered in shock. "But… they're dead, sir. You want us to search their bodies?"

Alex slowly raised a brow. "Yes. They're dead. They certainly won't be needing their guns where they're going, will they?"

"It just seems so disrespectful, sir."

"Five minutes ago they were trying to kill you. How wasn't that disrespectful?" Alex folded his arms. "And don't call me sir."

The nervous one got smacked in the head by one of his friends and they headed to search the bodies. The recruit from earlier poked his head out of the door.

"Zeus!" he called, and Alex looked his way. "I found the crates, but they're empty. Looks like the Alliance cleared this place out before they set up."

Alex sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He pressed two fingers to the earpiece in his ear. "Hey Scarface. We got a problem."