Ying Ying starts passing out the ammunition magazines right away. Sami, an older man with an unplaceable accent and badly fractured English, does his best to get the medkits from Ryan and start applying them in earnest. At Annabelle's question Sami shakes his head. "This, no," he says. "Flying too low now. Here come Striders."

The orb fizzles swiftly, which must be a nice feeling, given that the dropships dive with weirdly fluid grace and release their cargo about thirty feet above the ground, some distance away. Vast brown masses suddenly unfold three legs each, the legs striking the ground in synchrony mere moments later. Then they begin to straighten.

Remember that heavy thudding sound from the pulse rifles of the Elites? Imagine that, times ten, and coming from thirty or forty feet up. That's the Strider's main gun for you- and the warp cannon hasn't even been deployed yet.