"Sounds like business as usual to me," he jibes mildly, rolling the payload around in his hands to assess the size and weight of it before stepping back around the corner. A few safe turns of hall away and he tucks it into a shadowed corner, giving Theta an idle good job, buddy when he drops a pin on his HUD feed of the spot. Then he's back with York, keeping guard, watching through the ceiling for the occasional amorphous, almost-invisible red blur of poorly-defined battling figures. At least it's a solid foundation.