Things were happening around Mo at a lightning speed. She reloaded deftly and took the place of a soldier that had tagged out to replace his clip. She found herself next to the milky giant. She'd heard him shouting back at her to return quickly so that they could send the Griks to hell together. Well, here she was!

	"Let's do this!" She shouted with grim enthusiasm that was short-lived however. There was an ominous rumble and she witnessed the veteran soldiers, including the officers, pale. [i]Shit! This can't be good.[/i] As soon as the thought had formed in her mind the cause of the rumbling made itself apparent.

	Cold sweat ran over Mo. She'd only seen them in the pictures in the briefs. No picture worth a thousand words could adequately portray the intimidating pressure that were the Brumak. Mo didn't panic in her almost primal fear at the sight of the hulking beasts. She never did after the death of her father. Her fear made her angry. Oh, the fear itself wasn't irrational. I mean one would be a fool not to fear the Bulwark! No. Mo's fear angered her, because it stemmed from her ineptitude against the alien threat. I mean, save for the Wisseram, every other soldier of the Bulwark took a dozen or two dozen human soldiers to put down. They were fighting a losing war and that angered her. And her anger spurred her on. Gave her the focus and the drive to persevere. She would defeat her inadequacies! She would prevail!

	She kept with her shooting, not giving in to the frantic feel of the battle. Griks were falling left and right, permeating the air with their bizarre sweet banana-bread aroma. Despite herself her stomach rumbled in hunger. She gagged! Clenching her jaw she kept shooting trying her best to keep whole the line. But the Brumak had already torn sections of it, hurling boulders at human flesh and buildings. Soldiers began screaming in pain and in their death throws. Lines of a half forgotten ancient poem popped into her mind. [i]Do not go gentle into that good night/Rage, rage against the dying of the light.[/i]

	Captain Faraday shouted angrily for gunners and a bulky man with a machine gun appeared next to her and let loose on the Griks. The heavy weapon started cutting down white alien flesh like a knife through banana bread. And that sweetly smell filled their nostrils again. [i]I'll never look a banana the same way ever again![/i] Mo thought, but had no time to linger in her mind as Griks were swarming them despite the machine gun dude's efforts.

	"FALL BACK!" Shouted Captain Faraday. "FALL BACK!"

	Panic took over the more weak-willed. They started scrambling back blindly. Some forgetting to cover their retreat. Others dropping ammunition in their haste to get the hell out of Dodge. And those less fortunate were cut down by the Grik. The Brumak was wreaking havoc left and right swinging the massive chains attached to his arms, killing dozens with a single swipe.

	[i]Do not go gentle into that good night/Rage, rage against the dying of the light.[/i]

	The poem rang in Mo's mind again like the crystal clean sound of a bell.

	[i]Rage you say. I'll rage![/i] "Give my you're bloody grenades!" She shouted out loud, swinging her rifle on her back, and without waiting started unclipping the grenades from the four closest soldiers, the milky giant next to her included. "COVER ME!" She yelled, waited a beat and sprang up, pulled the pin of the first grenade, wound back her arm, sighted her target, and released. She didn't have to think, she knew the servo-brain of her bionic arm would throw the grenade with deadly precision. As soon as she'd released the first she armed the second, shifted her aim a bit to the right and released. And again. And again. And one last time.

	The five grenades flew in perfect arches. When the first reached its intended target it exploded in a canvas of white flesh, metal shrapnel and a thick banana-bread aroma. As soon as the first explosion blossomed, a second followed, and then a third, a forth and finally the fifth. The grenades flaring up like Chinese firecrackers on a string, popping one right after the other. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop! Grik body parts rained down on the retreating soldiers, bathing them in the jelly of their banana-bread scented blood.

	Mo crouched down, scanning the ground, she found a fallen soldier with unused mags still attached to his battle harness. She took them and slotted them in her empty mag pockets. "Sorry, buddy, but I'll need these more then you. I don't want to go gently into that night." She said a silent prayer for her fallen comrade who appeared to be a fifty-something old man probably volunteered to protect his family. "I'll carry on your torch!" She promised, slapping a new clip into her rifle. She reclaimed her place next to the milky giant. [i]If we survive this I'm gonna have to get a name out of you, buddy. Can't keep thinking of you as the 'milky giant'.[/i] Mo stepped close to him, wanting to feel some of his burly stability and set her gaze forward in grim determination. When the bloody plume of flying Grik gore died down, her eyes squinted in disappointment. She'd hoped for at least a torn off arm. Instead she'd only managed to somehow tear the chains off the Brumak’s wrists. Apparently he'd used his ape-like arms to cover the bulk of his already fortified enough body.

	"Shit!" Mo muttered opening fire while still retreating.