Ripley paused at the doorway, watching the marines. There seemed to be an awful lot of name calling and harassment involved in disassembling and cleaning one's weapons. Their routine was relaxed but precise – they'd clearly gone through these motions hundreds of times before. But would it really help them prepare for what they were going to face this time? For acid, claws, and terror? She didn't know.
The marines shared a laugh before one of the men – Hudson? – glanced up at her. "Can we help you, lady?"
"Yes." She rallied her confidence. "Show me how to do that."