Bartello--so his holo-nametag read in Citadel Basic--grunted at her question. He took the thermal clip out of her hand, picked up a rifle, and slapped the cylinder right into the side of the rifle. Another one ejected from the side, and Bart threw his head back. "CHEEEYYOOOOOOOOOO!" Then he set the rifle back into her arms and turned away, rummaging through another stack of boxes. Cole picked up one of the cylinders too, turning it over in his hand.<br/><br/>"Looks like some kind of heat sink," he murmured. "Must be a one-use type of sink. Huh. I had a Mk.X Jormungand Torrent-class rifle once, had a max output of eighty rounds before you had to let it cool down. It worked quick, but if your hands were anywhere near the exhaust you'd burn the shit out of them. Medi-gel only goes so far for that kind of thing. With these, though, I'd imagine eighty rounds is more of a starting point than an upper limit. So long as you don't run out of these replacers, anyway."<br/><br/>Bart whipped around and grunted like he'd blown a load in his armor, and set down another crate with a pair of smaller boxes on top. Inside the smaller boxes were only thermal clips, easily a few hundred total. The larger crate had an assortment of other weapons--a set of pistols, likely the same model as what Reese had strapped but modified to accept the thermal clips. Two different shotguns. Cole recognized at least one sniper rifle in the mess, and privately hoped he'd have a chance to test it out beforehand. He couldn't imagine a rifle nicer than the Volkov he'd customized himself out in the field, but with the new system it seemed like a very large sort of possibility.<br/><br/>Barty hissed softly, but not at anything in particular. The strange salarian grabbed the tray of holochits and picked one up, fussing with it with an omni-tool before he set it down on the table in front of Reese.<i>890,000c</i>floated above the little chit, and the salarian hooted at her inquisitively. Cole turned away from the bargaining, poking idly through the rest of the shelving. Most of it was junk, plain and simple. It might have been repurposed eventually, but it would have taken a more technical mind than Cole's to figure that out. What did catch his eye was a single medallion, sitting on the shelf by itself, outside of any tray. It looked to be asari in design, though he had no idea what the timeworn etchings read. A single disc of metal comprised the entire thing, though the center had been hollowed out and a neat little array of nanoemitters kept a perfectly spherical gemstone of some type floating in place. He lifted it up and, careful not to blow off the dust, held it up. "B? What do you think?"<br/><br/>B bared his flat, strange salarian teeth in what may have been his attempt at a human smile, then passed his omni-tool over the chit.<i>890,000c </i>flickered and was replaced by<i>890,005c.</i>