Gallus is momentarily stunned.

To no one in particular, he mutters, "Are you kidding me? 'Aerial bandits?' This place HAS gone to ****... we're not even to the 'problem area' yet. For the love of ..."

His muttering dies down to an incoherent grumble as he unslings a nasty looking shotgun and checks it over.

Completing that, he pulls out a small autopistol that looks like its been around the block about a hundred times too many. He tries to ready it as well, but the slide catches. Punctuating his inaudible muttering, he slams it - hard - into a bulkhead a couple of times, and the slide racks back into place. He grunts, puts the pistol back in its holster under his shoulder, and braces himself against a windowframe, scanning the skies in a highly aggrieved silence.