Cole: Well shit.
Baird: Anyone afraid of heights?
Cole: Not anymore. Love heights. I love 'em. Fuckin' love 'em.
Byrne: Come on, the line still reaches the bridge.
Cole: And that's our stop so let's do this. Whoo-hoo!
Whoo-hoo! I think I just invented a new sport bitches.
Baird: Getting your ass shot off while dangling from a cable? Yeah, yeah, that'll catch on. The Ass-Off Championships.
Cole: Okay, let's secure this bridge. Woah!
I'd love to chat bitch, but we got a ship to save.
Baird: That's the last of 'em, for now anyway.
Cole: Y'know, I-I-I'm more worried about the stability of this bridge than some trigger-happy Stranded.
Carmine: Yeah, this doesn't look good at all.
Byrne: Come on, will you? Get on with it. If we lose that ship, we lose everything we've got.
Cole: Cole to Sovereign. Cole to Sovereign. Come in Sovereign... Shit, the comms are still down and I can't see a goddamn thing. We need to get to the center of this bridge.
Bryan: Yeah, but we have to get past that first.
Baird: My unique charisma should do the trick.
Carmine: Yeah, I'll have to lend you some of mine.
Baird: Am I the only one who can feel the crosshairs just about here?
Byrne: Hey, I saw movement. Top of the barricade, stay sharp.
Cole: Hello, anyone home? Knock, knock. We're just passing' through. We just need a hand to get back to our . . . shit.
So much for diplomacy.
Baird: Yeah, what else do you expect from these Stranded shits? Let's get this over with.
Bryne: Hey, those aren't Stranded. They're Locust.
Baird: Oh, great! Look who's back in town.
Cole: Well, we did flood them out of their tunnels.
Hey, they got a gun positioned in that toll booth.
Baird: Yeah, top of the barricade, too.
Cole: Here's my toll, bitch.
Carmine: Yeah, charisma. Works every time.
Cole: Keep the change asshole.
Baird: They're flanking us right.
Baird: They're flanking us left.
Creative assholes, aren't they? Looks like they're building turrets out of aid Lancers. "A" for effort.
Byrne: Everyone's salvaging stuff, even the bloody grubs.
Baird: Yeah, those things could stop a truck, as long as the recoil didn't dislocate your shoulder.
Great, Boomers. The whole grub family's turned out to say hi.
Cole: We missed you baby, but damn, you're uglier than ever.
Baird: Hey, I like what they've done with the place. The informal, squalid look.
Byrne: It's grub we're talking about here, Baird. Squalid's normal for them.
Cole: No, when they were underground they were organized. This looks like they've gone feral or something. Stranded, savage even.
Bryne: Savage, eh? Does that make them easier to fight or not?