[Eventually, L rounds a bend in the corridor, and he sees... that's not a mirror at the other end. It's someone in the same muted grey armor, small yellow highlights. That means it's someone from Texas's world, he thinks, but he's not sure who. They're distant, at the other end of the corridor, and they're toting a gun that looks like it belongs with this kind of armor, instead of the ordinary automatic Earth rifle that L is carrying.
There are other weapons on the floor of this corridor, and he hates to leave them there as convenient accessories for any disarmed Caducans who might come by, but there's not much he can do about it without compromising himself. Since he got back to the ship, he's been on automatic pilot, terrified and trying not to think too hard about anything outside of the immediate -- move your arm, fire, get from point A to point B. He'll feel abstract guilt over people he's shot and whatever trauma results from having been under fire himself later -- this is about getting through the day.
Still, when he sees the figure at the other end of the corridor, he has the presence of mind to raise a hand in greeting.]
A
There are other weapons on the floor of this corridor, and he hates to leave them there as convenient accessories for any disarmed Caducans who might come by, but there's not much he can do about it without compromising himself. Since he got back to the ship, he's been on automatic pilot, terrified and trying not to think too hard about anything outside of the immediate -- move your arm, fire, get from point A to point B. He'll feel abstract guilt over people he's shot and whatever trauma results from having been under fire himself later -- this is about getting through the day.
Still, when he sees the figure at the other end of the corridor, he has the presence of mind to raise a hand in greeting.]