Carol's hands were shaking as she took her place in the line, tagged in by some big brute of a man with hands the size of hams and sweat pouring down her face. She flipped her safety off and peered down the line at the approaching wall of meat and metal. Every time she saw them, it was like the first. Gricks - all blades and twisted flesh, wilder than the savagest outlaw had been back on her planet and totally fearless. And what was worse, this was the easy part.

She spat into the dirt, a ritual of her Uncle's, and her head was clear. She took aim with her carbine down the range and sighted her first target, a big mean-looking one (which was to say he was completely indistinguishable from the others) and fired a three round burst. The creature's head spurted fluid, and like that Carol was in.

"C'mon, you sons a bitches, time to cowboy up!" She called, firing robotically at different targets. She hadn't taken to training easy, but her old instructor had definitely managed to get through to her on fire discipline, and she managed a full five kills with one clip of ammunition. Some crazy fuck next to her on the line was laughing his ass off as he fired, and Carol snickered a little bit at his moxy.

"I'm out! Reloading!" She said and stepped away from the line, her spot immediately filled by some older woman - looked to be in her 40s. The Gricks were falling all across the line, but they just kept coming, stepping over the bodies of their fallen like they always did. And they were getting closer. She'd seen plenty of people get torn apart by Gricks back home - her planet had fallen so quickly, the aliens hadn't even needed to bring the big guns, instead just swamping them in waves of half-living monsters. She'd seen the screaming and the blood and promised herself that that would never happen to her. [i]Four for them, one for you, and one just for me.[/i]

Carol slammed a new clip into her weapon, spat in the dirt, and stepped back in.