I understand that, Ortez. All I'm trying to say is a little nip from a bottle isn't going to make you fall down drunk and incapable of fighting the Covies. God knows it might even help with this surly-ass attitude of yours.

[In truth? He doubted it. Samuel Ortez probably didn't know how to remove the stick up his ass long enough to unclench enough to do something as human as share a drink with his squad mates.]

'Sides, they could just decide to glass us from space and all of this would be a moot point. [Well, that was certainly a cheerful thought, now wasn't it? Gates was a big fan of gallows humor unfortunately and just threw that out there without a care in the world.] I've seen how they treat their own men. They let those fucking Hunters just chew through the slow ones like they're just more meat for the grinder. I doubt they'll care about a few Grunts of Jackals. Not to mention a bunch of filthy heretics like us, Ortez.

[In the darkness his teeth gleamed in a lupine smile that was all teeth and vicious humor.]