There wasn't much that Dust thought of in these situations. He was usually preoccupied with keeping himself alive long enough to get back to transport. Sadly, this was transport. It didn't say much about what he had to look forward to. The SAW his fellow mule helped set up was holding down the corridor. Barely. Anyone who ever saw a flood would notice what was happening. A slow, but determined force up against an even more determined force, but with less numbers. The SAWs did their part and created a wall of pain that, at times, actually made the Orcs stop and think about what they were doing. Sadly, those high enough in the evolutionary chain were killed early, due to their sudden indecision. This was either by the projectile storm or by their own, who used their brother's weakness to their advantage. Orcs were hoisted up by their brethren as meat shields against the volley launched against them, and they progressed even closer.<br/><br/>Kerry had given the order to change the direction of his fire. He was about to refuse, as his quick calculation told him that the absence of his gun would have a less than positive result on the corridor he was firing down. Shouting "Yes Ma'am!" over the symphony of gunshots and battlecries, Dust moved the weapon to slowly work the gun through the crew. The dumb ones ran, and the slightly smarter ones went for cover. Either way it gave him a good 20 seconds to light up the tendril itself. He lit up the area as far up the tentacle that he could aim at and let loose "Good Food, Good Meat, Good God, Let's Eat!" he screamed as the swarm of rounds reached out to pepper the orc structure.