Rico makes a sound in the back of his throat, any amusement lost. It damn well figures. He kneels down as well and scoops up the rifle quickly, as if he's worried that Garrus will take it first. "I'm taking this," he says in a manner that brooks no argument. "And we need to get going. Wherever they've stashed our equipment, and then the mission objective."

Rico feels uncharacteristically vulnerable outside of his Judge's jumpsuit, and he's determined to make up for it. Any Judge worth their salt is covered in marks, but he's acutely aware of the rarely visible winding scar on his arm that ends abruptly down to his elbow, and the prominent jagged ridge of scar tissue under his ribcage. A mistake he never got over.

And with that, he looks at Garrus properly for the first time, as if before this, looking too hard would mean acknowledging their predicament. His lip curls, giving him a once-over. "Not so big out of your armor, are you?"