"I talked to Joyce. The merc you hanged -- his friends are coming for you."

"I talked to Joyce. The merc you hanged -- his friends are coming for you."

"Yeah?" He doesn't seem worried. "By friends you mean his squadmates from Krenel?"

"Wouldn't wanna beat up his grandma." There's snickering in the room. Some of the men put their beers down.

Nervous snickering. There's a rush of adrenaline present.

Titus did his best, but his men are a bit unsettled.

"Yes, they are forming some kind of tribunal -- and they're coming for you."

"This is what happens if you take the law into your own hands. Other people start doing it too."

"Let them come!" Blondie yells across the cafeteria. "The Hardie boys are right fucking here!"

"You heard the man -- right here." He points to the ground. "We're armed, we got the whole district behind us and Glen... Glen is fucking crazy."

"Yeah, a well oiled murder-machine!" He punches blondie on the shoulder.

The mood is on the rise. They're feeling confident -- ready to punch out the whole merc platoon.

"Okay." (Conclude with a shrug.)

"What do you mean okay?" He jerks forward a bit.

"I mean, 'Okay, you got one more gun on your side.' Once I find mine. I lost it."

"We don't need you or your lost gun. We all have our guns." He almost splashes his beer at you. "We'll just use those if it's okay with you."

"Lost gun or not, you're going to need help." The lieutenant looks Titus in the eye. "We're offering it."

"Okay, I accept the offer." The man cracks his shoulder. "But I'll believe it when I see it."

He appreciates it, but can only accept it conditionally.

"I mean 'Okay, you got this' -- you got the numbers."

"Goddamn right we do." He nods. "We've done it before. Ain't that right, fellas?!"

"Fuck yeah we have! Battle-hardened urban soldiers, man. We got the guns and the reserves."

"Yeah... we got reserves." He nods nervously. "We can call in reinforcements."

This guy will be the first one to bail.

"I mean, 'Okay, they're going to wipe you the fuck out, Titus.'"

"No, they won't." He shakes his beer at you. "Get out of here with your negative energy."

He really doesn't like you ruffling their feathers like that -- on what might be the eve of battle.

"All he means is that the situation is serious."

"No wonder you cops get shot to shit every day -- can't go to war with an attitude like that."

"I mean, 'Okay, I'll be on your side when they come.'"

"Yeah..." he snorts. "Just try not to get in the way -- when the whoop-ass flies open!"

I think he meant a can of whoop-ass?

Beneath the whoop-assery it's clear that he appreciates all the help he can get.

"I mean, 'Okay, I guess I'll be gunning you down right alongside them.'"

"No he won't." The lieutenant adjusts his glasses. "This is probably some kind of a joke."

"Funny. Don't get hit by a stray bullet."

"Joyce said they've gone rogue. Nobody is controlling them."

"Big fucking surprise..." He mutters. "They hire psycho scum, arm them to the teeth and let them loose in the city. What do you think is gonna happen?"

He's really prepped himself up for this. He has to. To keep the fear in check.

"The mercenaries are armed with automatic weapons."

"We got weapons of our own." He cracks open his vest to give you a glimpse of his holster. "We got Ister 50s, Zielegers, Glen's got a nock-cannon at home..."

"Will they pierce ceramic armour?"

"I guess we're gonna see, aren't we?"

That was an unsure phrasing.

"See what? That they don't?"

"Yeah, like you've been up against ceramic armour..." He takes a sip of beer to bide his time, then tries to get the last word in.

"You haven't even seen the whole suit, right? I've seen the whole fucking thing and it didn't make him immortal."

"For your sake I hope you're right."

"Right about what?" He looks at you defiantly. "That a 50 calibre bullet goes through shit? Yeah. I am."

"Well, if Glen has a nock-cannon at home I guess you'll be alright."

"That thing has seven barrels. One trigger. You do the math."

So that's one dead and a looooong reload. But whatever.

"Do you know that a single Seraise Giant Hornet can kill forty bees a minute?"

"... the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You're the bees; they're the hornet."

"We're not bees, we're men. We're socialists!"

"Easy, E, he's tryna' faze you." He turns to you. "What are you trying to do? Scare my men?"

"Nothing."

"Goddamn right it's nothing. This isn't a fucking terrarium. This is Martinaise."

Terrarium? He's really trying to salvage something out of it.

"This Krenel is bad news. You know that, right?"