Corporals Parker and Geddiman utilized their manned maneuvering units to cross to where the Bioids’ ship was. Privates Sully and Vassily followed behind, wielding axes and magnetic-accelerator guns.

“So what do we do when we open ’er up?” Sully asked.

“Do what the big man says,” Geddiman replied. “See if they’re hostile. If not, bring ’em in for questioning.” His eyes narrowed behind his visor. “If so…terminate,” he finished, tightening his grip on his weapon.

“They’re bound to have superior reaction times,” Sully fretted.

Parker cleared his throat. “Not necessarily so. Those were only the Cricket-types. Lots of them have movement constraints due to their inner machinery.” He paused. “Of course, this basic knowledge was all ladled out to you during your stay at the Academy.”

“I know it, I know it,” Sully answered. “I just…I just like to hear it every once in a while, is all.”

“Hey, Sully,” Parker put in, “how many Bioid hunts you been on?”

“Counting this one? One.”

Parker chuckled. “Me too.”