Bullets fell to the ground in rapid succession, their metal casings clanging against the shattered concrete in the night. Captain Gunn kept his fire focused on the closest of the oncoming Scrin attackers. The buzzers came at him without slowing, despite the hundreds that fell before them.

"Jonas! Where are you?" the Captain screamed into his microphone attached at his helm. Silence beckoned from the other end. "Jonas!" He cried again, the same silence meeting his plea as before. The mutant officer roared horribly as his chaingun continued to rip through the incoming hoards with growing heat. Too many, the Captain thought, panic surfacing in the back of his mind

The mindless buzzers continued to pour down the street towards the blockade the Captain occupied as bullets flew from the barrel of the smoking turret until, much too long before the Captain had anticipated, there came a hollow whirl and the turret slowed. Immediately the big man discarded the weighty turret and turned to flee, picking up an assault rifle from the body of a fallen comrade as he did so.

"This is Captain Gunn, does anybody on this frequency read me?" He shouted into his mic as he raced down the city streets, seeking refuge from the pursuing Scrin. "Repeat, and GDI or South Clan forces respond!" He tried one more time before switching frequencies. Growling in frustration, he rounded a corner and launched himself into a broken-out building, hoping to evade the oncoming swarms.

"This is Captain Gunn, does anybody read me?" He gasped desperately after taking cover within the crippled building behind a reception desk. He raised his rifle to firing position over the desk and waited impatiently for a response. Please, someone. He growled silently under his breath, his eyes never leaving the streets. The swarms came and flooded by, not giving notice to his presence. It was an eternity later before the last of the buzzers had passed.

Thomas Gunn stood up and slowly moved forward, exiting the building and reemerging into the dark streets. He looked up and down both ways, searching for any sign of his pursuers or, preferably, allies. He could hear the Scrin war machines moving all throughout the city, unchecked and ruthless in their assault, killing and destroying everything that moved, and even some things that did not. Their horrid screeches echoed in his ears. He could feel their destructive presence—the ear-breaking scream of the buzzers, the Seekers' horrible growl.

He raised his rifle to firing position, fighting the cold fear threatening to choke him. His eyes scanning the consuming darkness around him silently, he switched the options on his radio to open broadcast. Breathing deeply, he inhaled before speaking.

"This is Captain Thomas Gunn broadcasting on all channels. Does anybody read me?" He paused for half a second before continuing. "Repeat. Any GDI or South Clan members respond."

He switched off his broadcaster and slowly stepped out into the middle of the intersection, dodging the debris and wreckage of old vehicles. He remained motionless for a moment, pondering his situation; waiting for a reply he knew would never come.

"This is Sergeant Rezac, South Clan sharpshooter. You alright, Captain?" came the sudden, unexpected reply over his suit's speaker. Gunn twitched at the unexpected reply, relief flooding through him at once.

"Damn it! John! Where are you?" he howled into the speaker, his heart racing beneath his grizzled chest.

"A hundred fifty meters of your position. I got eyes on you, sir. Intersection of Charlotte. Head south, we'll meet you in the lobby of the Harati Hotel halfway." Rezac's voice was tired and barely audible through Gunn's speaker, but he understood. He nodded to himself and turned south, shouldering his weapon into a relax position.

"Who else is with you, Sergeant?" the Captain queried into his mic.

"Thompson and Eskemelia, the rest are MIA…or KIA." Rezac replied slowly, somberly.

"Nothing from anyone else?"

"Negative, sir. Last report was from Brittenham, and that was over three hours ago. We lost contact with his crew after the Storm Riders took out GDI's Command Center."

"His boys weren't supposed to be anywhere near that structure." Thomas growled, his voice lacking any optimism or hope.

"Sir, I don't know what's going on around here. We should have pulled out a long time ago. Why did GDI even bother setting up a base here? There's no reason for them to be here. This is a deathtrap." Rezac paused for a moment, pondering something to himself. "It might have been a blue zone before the Second Wave but… I don't see what the point is anymore. You know what I mean, Captain?"

"Look at it this way, Rezac," Thomas Gunn brought his weapon back into firing position, searching the shadows as he made his way cautiously down the street. "If you exhausted the majority of your resources fighting an alien race three years ago, and still haven't confirmed that the mastermind of your only opposing faction on the planet is dead, what would your strategy be?"

Rezac was silent on the other end for a brief moment before suddenly replying. "Dodge and cover, Captain. Tripod heading your way on Letteridge."

"Damn it!" the mutant Captain growled.

"Thompson and Eskemelia are on the way with fireworks." Rezac replied a heartbeat later. "Stay low, head to the Harati. I'll guide you in."

"Roger that, Sergeant." Gunn dropped immediately into a crouched position and began moving hurriedly through the shadows. He drew to the intersection of Letteridge and waited. He could sense the tripod without seeing it. Ducking behind an overturned car, he gazed down the road. The death machine was less than twenty meters from him. He could remain hidden, but the tripod wouldn't need to see him to kill him. Inhaling deeply, the mutant captain braced himself and drew a grenade from his belt.

Three… Two…

He dashed out of his cover and launched the grenade into a nearby building. The grenade exploded, shattering glass and sending debris flying through the air. The tripod turned towards the explosion momentarily, two of its three arms scanning the building. Bullet fire assaulted its torso seconds later as Gunn raised his rifle and fired blindly with his right arm as he raced down the street towards the hotel.

"Twenty meters, Captain. Better find some cover." Rezac screamed through his mic, the sound resonating out of Gunn's speakers. From his viewpoint above them, the sharpshooter found the silhouettes of his two squad mates, each carrying a large rocket launcher on their shoulders. He gazed up the street and saw his Captain surging down the street. The tripod turned off Letteridge a brief moment later, its massive arms swinging hungrily.

"It's not going to miss!" Gunn roared. He was within shouting distance of the approaching mutants. "Fire, now!" he growled horribly, feeling the heat of the tripods lasers grow behind him. He reached the vehicles Thompson and Eskemelia had taken cover behind and dove passed them. Twin flashes ignited a second later as rockets flew from their launchers, ripping through the air. The missiles met their target seconds later, bursting into orange clouds of heat, dissipating as fast as they had appeared.

"It's not down…" Gunn growled. "Move!" the Captain shouted the order and the men dropped their rocket launchers, turning and following him down the street. They moved hurriedly, faster than their feet could carry them. Eskemelia went down, tripping over himself, grunting as he did so.

"Damn it, Stefan!" Thomas growled as he adjusted his path and made his way towards his comrade. He reached him five steps later and gripped his shoulders. Shifting his gaze towards the tripod, he grimaced in frustration.

"You're not gonna make it, Gunn!" Rezac's frenzied voice came carrying through the speakers. Gunn nodded quickly, helping Eskemelia to his feet. The sound of thunder crashed above them as their sharpshooter began loosing rounds from his rifle futilely at the tripod.

"Stefan," Gunn began, turning off his mic. "Get outta here! Get to your daughter!" Gunn roared, shoving the Corporal onward down the street. Eskemelia gave no reply but kept running down the street, looking back at once. The Captain growled in defiance of the approaching tripod as he drew another grenade from his belt.

"Thomas, what the hell are you doing?" Rezac screamed over his mic, his voice echoing down the street from the tower he was perched in. Gunn switched his mic back on and growled deeply. "Thomas, get out of there!"

"Rezac, get your men back!" Was the final command before the Captain switched his mic off again.

Rezac watched down on the street, as Captain Thomas Gunn stood in the middle of the road, his grenade posed to strike. The tripod's three arms raised and began to glow in unison, preparing to strike the Captain where he stood.

With a horrible howl, the mutant rushed forwards and sent his grenade flying through the air. The grenade whirled and spun, timed to strike in unison with the tripods horrible lasers. Gunn growled and watched intently as two large explosions preceded the grenade, striking the tripod where it stood.

The captain's eyes widened as his grenade's explosion became part of a large hailstorm of fire, consuming the tripod. The heatwave knocked Gunn back where he stood, forcing him to the ground. The explosions in the sky intensified for a brief moment before becoming into dark plumes of smoke.

Gunn opened his eyes to hazy smoke and brought himself to his feet. Ashes fell to the ground like gentle snow as the remains of the tripod crumbled to the ground.

"Eskemelia? Thompson?" Gunn asked, switching on his mic.

"Negative, sir." Came Thompson's reply. Gunn turned around and saw Eskemelia, shaking his head slowly.

"Calling all mutant forces in the Lansing East Sector, please respond." Came a firm voice over the group's speakers. "This is GDI Commander Marks, all forces please respond."

Gunn sighed, slightly confused and looked up towards the tower where Rezac stood tall. The sharpshooter raised his arm in acknowledgement of the broadcast and Gunn nodded in response.

"This is South Clan Captain Gunn. What are you doing here, Commander Marks?"

"Gather your boys and find a rooftop, Captain." The voice was solid and firm, as if whoever-the-hell Commander Marks was, he had automatically assumed command of Gunn's clan and somehow won victory of the Scrin in the same breath. Both of which were impossible to do in a single lifetime, as far as Gunn was concerned.

"My Firehawks just took out a tripod near the Harati. That you, Captain Gunn?" The commander asked rhetorically. "Those Firehawks are headed South towards the Scrin warship fleet. Unless you'd like to stick around to get a front row seat, I'd suggest you get your men ready for evac."

Gunn sighed deeply and nodded to himself. Raising his left arm, he made a circular motion and pointed to the red star on top of the Harati.

"Commander, I need pick-up for four men plus gear on top of the Harati in fifteen."

"Roger that Captain. Ox is on the way. Marks out."

Gunn couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling that a large snicker had escaped the Commander's mouth as soon as he had ended the call. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?

The Captain sighed to himself and shook his head. He should be grateful to be alive, but for some reason he almost would have preferred to die taking that tripod to hell with him. He shuddered furiously at the thought. Just because I'm a mutant didn't mean I have to think like one, he told himself.

"Rezac, pack up and meet me in the lobby of the Harati. See if you can raise anyone else on the local channels while you're working, but don't make a mess about it. Gunn out."

"Understood sir." The sharpshooter paused shortly. "Is everything alright, sir?"

"Rezac…" The Captain began, sighing heavily. "John," he rephrased himself, "I don't think anything is going to be alright for a very, very long time to come."