The bullets left their marks on the wall. Josh was the last of his squad. His helmet had taken three shots, miraculously he was still alive. With his lancer firm in his hand and the two boomers coming up from behind the wall, he was going crazy. Josh never believed in miracles, as such it wasn't a miracle that saved him. Actually it was the 'copter circling above. The helicopter fired. The boomers fell. Josh emerged. His helmet didn't fit him anymore so he just left it on the floor. Short blond hair, shaved from the sides, and blue eyes, this was the face of the new recruit. Josh, with great difficulty, walked towards the helicopter. It wasn't like he was wounded or anything. Just the fact that his whole entire unit, all his friends, had just died. Right in front of him, it wasn't just sadness that he felt but failure; failure to help and save the people of his squad taunted him. However Josh was an optimist, but even he didn't see the locust that threw the frag under his feet. Heck, he never even noticed the grenade, not even at it exploded and his limbs flew over. The bright side? The sadness and lack of self worth he felt had died as well.

"Go, go, go!" the orders came at the scream of an older man. Late 40s early 50s but that could have just been the stress of war. His wrinkles and lines didn't just speak of previous years, they told of fights and many battles fought, his scars helped too. Obviously he had no helmet on, and it wasn't because bullets had pounded it into a shape that could not fit his head, but because the years had given him much advice on the art of war. Keeping your head down was one of the good ones. Lancer in hand, he shot at the one coming Locust as the chopper flew up in the air, only to get knocked back down a few minutes later by seeders.

"Please repeat," the soldier who had spoken wiped away the blood on his armor, or at least wiped off the big pieces.

"Black 6 down. Rescue the survivors two klicks south of the House of Sovereigns, at the Hospital of Sovereignty."

"Copy that," with the soldier's radio conversation over, his newly free hand reached for another round of Lancer ammo located at his belt. After his reload, he told the mission the rest of his squad. "All right guys, you know what to do. Let's go."

The four of them moved quietly to the other side of the street, to the bar. Santiago.

"Shit Lloyd, its Santiago's bar!" a soldier had said. Not the same one before, this one carried a sniper, plus he was bald.

"Haha! Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" This guy was big as he was black, and he was black.

"Don't get any ideas. Just 'coz you'll be too drunk to see the Locust, doesn't mean they'll be stupid enough NOT to shoot a dumb ass with a beer bottle," this was the same soldier that spoke at the beginning. Lance Quake, the Lancer. Black hair, blue eyes. The other guy, the bald one was called, Steve. With the black guy being Lloyd, there was only one more left in the squad. Anyone that met him knew two things about him as soon as their eyes would meet his; he was quite and twice as deadly. It was funny because even though he was quite himself, his presence spoke volumes. He was Louis, and before the war, he used to be an undertaker.

All the other teammates watched as Louis moved a single finger towards his lips, his left hand moved towards a frag, which was sent sailing out in to the air, landing in an emergency hole.

"Fraaaaaag!" in that voice that resembled a horror film, confirmed the success of the throw. The grenade blew, the hole collapsed, and the ground beneath the Tiger Squad trembled. Louis and Steve both ran into the bar, while Lance and Lloyd both took to hiding behind a concrete slab outside. All frantically searching for any grenades. In one of the four holes, a single drone paused in his climb to look up in the air to find three grenades overhead, one just missed him, the one after landed, firmly in his mouth. He didn't get to see the other one, but maybe would have been pleased to know that it missed and exploded harmlessly somewhere in the distance. Maybe, but he was dead. Guns lit up like firecrackers and Locust went done, but somewhere, if anyone bothered to strain their ears could have heard it, the words of a giant "Boom!"