"...A net gun. I guess I'm officially on an alien safari now, eh? ...It's like I was born to fail."
Lazily administering a much deserved stretch from the lamp post which had undergone a troublesome but necessary physical examination of which the previous storm's intrusion had thoughtlessly lengthened, Dash rose calmly to his feet from a well grounded crouch. The painstaking process of evolution from a maniacal dual shotgun and rocket launcher wielding Rambo-esque brutish viking into team oriented calm, collected, well disciplined sniper and medic marked his first entry as an awkward young man onto the rose scented annals of noteworthy success. The most well traveled life lesson held responsible for supporting him throughout countless trials along his colorful journey to adulthood. Now that he had taken the time to get further acquainted with this severely limited weapon he couldn't help but recognize it as a filthy mirror of failure long passed. A brief glitch in the system so to speak spurring a spontaneous counter measure: allow the rest of the group to venture on ahead following afterward in hopes of gaining invaluable intel through their inevitable clash with the enemy.
Satisfied with the amount of ground let to cover from their departure he then directed his attention to the suit's radar glossing over it with minor interest to familiarize himself with the positions of his squad mates before breaking out of parking lot onto the main road in a full bodied sprint toward his prey. Much to his surprise a few of them were actually attempting to flank the alien to which he responded with a heavy sigh. Calculating the odds of waltzing in unannounced onto a frightened outnumbered but thoroughly pissed off alien escape route began to cloud his mind.
Let's just hope it's missing a few limbs by then... shall we?
In order to 'acknowledge' the 'irony' I would have to learn two new words today.
...And I'm not going to do that.