[Fiona is currently trying to strip armor -- space Kevlar, whatever -- from one of the dead correctional officers, her foot in his chest, so Scott would be excused for assuming her opinion on the matter skews a little ruthless. He would also be largely correct, anyway.]
Uh. [She grunts in exertion, glancing up and squinting.] Define everyone. 'cause he's not gonna make it.
iii
Uh. [She grunts in exertion, glancing up and squinting.] Define everyone. 'cause he's not gonna make it.