Alaric was trying not to laugh in the face of a superior officer, but number 272's remarks on their conversation was too much to pass up. His breathing had gone ragged with his acting up funny bone. "Fatal to all us, huh? Well if you don't have any Iho on you, then sorry for bothering you. Hell, you can keep it all after 272's astute observation over there. I can clearly see it now, it's all stuffed up your ass. I knew Lieutenants acted funny for some reason, guess they have to hide it all from the Commissariat somehow."
Alaric's gaze fell down onto the Lieutenant's flexing bionic arm and hid the chill running down his spine like an expert. He honestly prayed that 272's hypothesis for the project's outlook on rank proved correct. If he had to be led anywhere by this epitome of good Imperial leadership, he knew 111 would probably throw him a couple of leagues out in front of him as human meat shield. No doubt that the Lieutenant was probably used to pulling off stunts like that. And taking all the credit.
He spoke a little more respectfully, filled with a grim sense of curiosity. "Where'd you earn that arm? Lost your original one punching through a Tyranid's spikey backside?"
The word's left Alaric's mouth after some thought of the potential consequences, but the inquisitive comment remained about as serious as he could with someone he didn't know. In the back of his thoughts, he considered 272 and his position in all of this. He glanced over the Sergeant -he could tell by his rank pins, and saw that he was a little shorter than most others in the room. Yet there could be no doubt about it, the man had more than just the thousand mile stare. Like he had been in wars across the galaxy, had seen more than his fare share of horrific xeno species and filthy mutants. And had killed them all at some point in his life. It gave Alaric the creeps.