Esone did not have the benefit of a HUD to keep him occupied, and thus was subjugated to the full torrent of the Commander's 'inspirational' speech. He did his best to tune it out, but still cringed at the liberal usage of 'Duty' 'Loyalty' 'Honor' and 'Selfless Service'. Army values were a very good thing to internalize, but right before combat with blasphemous abominations who neither understood nor cared for the concepts seemed like an inappropriate time to espouse them.<br/><span style="color: #000000">And we're holy paragons of righteous morality? Ha. Hahaha. Ha.</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Hush.</span><br/><span style="color: #000000">No, really. We lie, we assassinate, we tear people limb from limb. We play on their fears for Eddie's sake.</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Fear of that which you cannot see ensures stability, and stability protects civilization. Whether the leadership is just or not is another matter. We're just a tool.</span><br/><span style="color: #000000">...I'm not sure that the Code of Military Justice applies to that. It certainly doesn't here, but are you really going to justify working for the Leviathans by saying "I'm just doing what I was told"?</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">...Shut up.</span><br/><span style="color: #000000">Thaaaaats right. you did it for power. UNLIMITED POWER! Your mother would be so proud.</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I don't know where you are. But I will find you, and I will hurt you.</span><br/><br/>"They assimilate entire worlds and we fall back. Not again. The line must be drawn here! This far, no further! And *I* will make them pay for what they've done!" Shepard's voice rose an octave, like a PT leader barking out the final cadence count.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000">Ah. Seems that's wrapping. Shall we?</span><br/>Esone gave a feeble imitation of the Normandy's rallying cry, his lackluster enthusiasm drowned out by the crewmen's deafening report. He wanted to argue with his Coadjutor, but there was a lot of truth in what it said. Deep down, Esone was a coward, who excelled at creatively applying a mix of silent death and brutal onslaught. He made no claims to be righteous, but he went to great lengths to quell and hide his failings.<br/><br/>With a grunt the Lieutenant swung his hammer across his shoulders, rocking uneasily on the balls of his feet. There was something up ahead, something hidden in the oily mists beyond Shepard. Something that resonated pure, unholy, skeletal essence. Whatever fight was awaiting them across the chasm, there would be blood. Oh so much blood.<br/><br/>While the Normandy's mortal heroes set up a makeshift security perimeter, the four Exalts crowded onto the unsettlingly flesh-like platform that appeared to be a means of conveyance across the hazy abyss. Like so many other parts of the ship, the interior decorators had seen fit to trick the platform out with waist-high ridges. Perfect for cover against enemy fire. Esone grimaced uneasily, his fingers drumming a tattoo into the handle of his hammer. That the designers of this place had seen fit to trick it out for firefights did not bode well for their passage through the mists, and his ineptitude at ranged combat left the Infernal sweating through his Kevlar jumpsuit. While his form was still recast by the grace of Malfeas, Esone doubted he could withstand many impacts from Collector rifle-fire. Pensively, the Lieutenant turned to 042.<br/><br/>"Hey, Geth. Can you do me a favor? I don't do ranged combat. It's... an Exaltation thing."<br/><span style="color: #000000">Yep. Adjoran doesn't like to kill in such an impersonal way. Plus, if Malfeas is magnanimous enough to share his radiance with the world, why should anyone <span style="font-style: italic">dare</span> to admire the glory at a distance? And it's got nothing to do with that rush you get from mangling those creepy insects.</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Shut up. I just don't like bugs.</span>Esone barely managed to stop himself saying the words aloud, visibly choking the utterance back. He blinked rapidly, brazenly ignoring the uneasy pause.<br/>"Anyway, I might need you to lay some suppressive fire down for me if we make contact. Overwatch for the melee combatant and all that. Can I trust you not to mow me down like ripe wheat?"