[ It feels as though Rex feels the weight of his blade sinking into Andy's shoulder more than Andy herself does. They've fought before, sometimes viciously, but it always wound up with them tossing each other around, getting into each other's faces, blunt force but never anything more. Maybe that's why he doesn't manage to stop her from flicking his helmet off, leaving it to rattle its way across the floor. Or maybe it's because she's just that good. Whatever the reason, Rex doesn't move quickly enough to stop her, yanking his own blade out of her shoulder and trying not to focus on the sickly feeling of her blood soaking into his glove.

This isn't how Rex fights. Oh, you could say that he fights with his blasters so he's unused to close combat, but that's not it. He's been in training for this. He doesn't fight like this, like someone desperate not to hurt his opponent, not taking the easy openings where he sees them, not acting with the swift precision that he always does. He should, he knows. But there is a gap between knowing and doing, and that gap yawns before him, a choice that he won't be able to take back if the worst comes to pass. It's the style of a man who wants to subdue, not kill, but very few (if any) have ever successfully subdued a Scythian. ]

If you're lucid enough to remember my name, then you're lucid enough to know why this is a bad idea, [ he snaps back, not sparing a second glance at his helmet. He lunges forward, moving to grab at her wrist to pin her against the wall. ]

Don't be a fool. There are people here who you ought to kill. I'm not one of them, and you know it. How do you see this ending?

[ It's a futile effort, he knows. But Rex is nothing if not an expert in trying to reason with a situation when reason has long since met its end. ]