[b]Shoot, Kill, Repeat[/b]

The hand on János' shoulder bareyl elicited a response. Already, eyes were down the 4x sight's tiny red chevron lining high on the torso of the lizard-warriors falling out of column into a hasty firing line once the shooting started. He spared only an acknowledging tilt of his head in Kristjana's direction as the Swede settled in off on his left just a few yards down the line. His head was cold, blank except for darting eyes and shifting shoulders as he kept the muzzle downrange. He watched as one of his rounds snapped across the snout of a Salvesh, the 5.56mm round sheering the front teeth teeth out of the creature's mouth. But the warrior seemed utterly unfazed except for the bright blue oozing from his gums. The things seemed to grow teeth with an alarming regularity, as though they were part-shark, whose mouths constantly grew and shed constantly. Provided the creature survived combat, . Where the bullet would have shattered a jaw from the force alone, the roots of Salvesh teeth were weak at the root while strong and serrated throughout, as though naturally engineered to remain in an ancestral prey creature that got away.

Fire shifted lower after a moment, bullets tearing through the center of mass to either side of the creature's sternum. The shots came with a practiced deliberation. János took his time with every target he acquired, though when he shot he did so with rapidity, a double-pull of the semi-automatic trigger sending two rounds down at whatever was in the center of his sights. They missed the tooth-torn Salvesh, who twisted, let out a saurian roar, and threw himself behind whatever cover there was in that synaptic reflex that demanded self-preservation

[i]Fire if you've better than even odds[/i], János had remember as a practical lesson of his combat experiences. Ideally, every bullet would find a target, but if it kept the beasts under cover, and from shooting back, or flinching, their shots going wild... Well, that was almost as good. Continued fire ensured that another of the creatures fell though, bullets riddling through his target's right half, shredding his shoulder and chest. The Salvesh fell, dead or wounded didn't matter to János as he shifted to the next target. And then the one after that too. 

Once the brief firefight was over, the call for a medic was anything but unexpected. Nor was what happened fully unexpected. János did his best to ignore Anoi's plight. The doc would take care of him in due time: there wasn't much he or the others could do about a shredded, limp, arm. Looking from Anoi to Park (who merely seemed to have a bad headache and a nasty cut on his face), János couldn't help but think: [i]twice lucky bastard[/i]. Park'd lucked out: perhaps the shells had been poorly manufactured, the detonators not going off despite having purchase? That had to be fun for the Salvesh, playing a game of dice about whether your ammunition even worked or not! 

Pacing about the bodies with Viktor and the rest of the team, there was  a detached efficiency to every step János took among the corpses of the dead, both already and not-yet. Fitting his bayonet to the rifle, he slashed the blade again and again over every body's throat that he came across, alive or dead. Those still living shot up a geyser of fluorescent blue. The dead merely oozed it as János stepped over bodies to C-team's assigned point on at the center of the squad's firing line.

A long swig from the camelback as suddenly, János' throat felt parched once he returned to the bunch. Magazine check - three rounds left: twenty seven rounds had been fashioned down range, cool and orderly. A new mag went in, and the old one went to the back of the line. Taking a knee on the center-left of the middle of the line, head swiveled in the direction of the low whine of the platoon tech's drone. Knowing more company was inbound, János slipped a grenade into the side-loading tube of his 320. He watched, waited...