Simmons had never liked bugs, so it wasn't surprising that he immediately signed up for the war. But, sadly, he wasn't accurate enough with the 8mm gauss rifle of a marine, nor was he strong enough to carry the twin perdition flamethrowers and gas tanks of the firebat. He was a service technician, or as the real soldiers called it a "plumber." Everyday, he would go from building to building, checking on them and fixing any imperfections. He was the lowest of the low in the military. His job was deemed to be so unimportant that he wasn't even given a SCV suit. By the end of his forth year in the war, and having no action under his belt, Simmons had decided to give up. He had filled out his forms and was walking them to the CO at charge when he heard the guns. They were sporadic an effect caused by the cool-down made into the 8mm gauss rifles to conserve ammo. Simmons ran straight for the command center, hoping to finally get a piece of the action. Just as he entered, the automated doors shut behind him, sealing the Terrans in and the Zerg out. As Simmons grabbed onto the handrails, the large metallic building began to rumble with the raging battle outside. Just when Simmons thought that he couldn't hold on any longer, the battle stopped. Immediately, Simmons stepped towards the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of the devastation outside before the SCVs could clean it up, but the door would not open.
"Open," commanded Simmons.
"Unable to comply, zerg outside of facility," replied a feminine robotic voice.
"Damnit," thought Simmons.