[Defending the position with him, is a young man in a black skintight suit with ostentatious golden shoulderpads and a helmet. Rico raises his lawgiver from behind the fortifications and squeezes the trigger repeatedly, nailing head shots with each and every bullet he delivers, dead center.]

Why don't you shut it, loudmouth? [Rico drawls, idly twirling his gun. He slots in a fresh clip, and sights down the barrel.] Either say something useful, or don't say anything at all. You're throwing off my concentration.