** I don't know if I put this here or what… -.- Anyways! Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Metal Slug Series. All rights and privileges belong to SNK Playmore (right?).**

-Also, just a little side note: This is my very first fanfiction, so please go easy on me, okay? I'd really love to hear some honest feedback about my style and plotline (once I get into it) though. Thanks for taking the time to read my story!

Chapter 1

A violent explosion rocked the blood-soaked ground, sending a handful of soldiers in scattered directions. As the bodies thudded to earth, a blond man clad in a red vest and assorted tactical gear leapt from behind a makeshift barricade and charged forward, rifle at the ready in case any unwanted company had survived the blast. The grenade had left a sizeable mark in the dirt and left a large enough gap in the enemy line to allow Marco and his counterpart room to move in and take care of business.

"Fio, now!" Marco roared over the sound of machine gun fire. Directly ahead of the commander's path, a soldier had made his way to the turret mounted on the steel platform during the chaos of the battle and was now spraying the area. His blind-and-fire method would have been more effective, had he not been facing a mere army of two. Marco ducked and weaved skillfully across the open ground that separated him from the platform, nearing it at an incredible speed. He twisted right just as the gun swung widely to the left and whipped out his handgun. The soldier took notice and began to rotate the gun back, but was stopped in his tracks when a handful of well-placed bullets pierced his chest, causing him to grunt and stumble backwards. He tumbled from the platform and the gun sagged and went still, smoke drifting from its barrels. Meanwhile, a young petite female vaulted herself over a wooden blockade and made a break for the platform where her commander stood waiting. She reached him in a matter of seconds, turning around once she had arrived to check her six. When she was sure none of the enemy was closing in on her from behind, she rounded about and gave her comrade a curt nod. Marco nodded back and took the break in the fighting to survey the area. Morden's men were scattered about the ground in various positions, either dead or mortally wounded. The dust was still settling from the explosions that had been set off during the rapid exchange of grenades between the sides. The bright midday sun played across the gruesome scene and reflected off Marco's crimson vest. The red glow caught his eye and weighed down his heart. The deep color reminded him of blood, reminded him he was on a battlefield rather than just working, reminded him that war was nowhere near as glorious as many civilians made it sound. However, the middle of a critical mission was no place for such thoughts-he had a job to do. He shook himself internally and looked down to his side where Fio had taken out her revolver to reload. Despite the carnage that was surrounding the duo, a slight smile crept onto his face at the sight of her. She looked so small, yet her skills as a soldier were invaluable to the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. He knew about her history-the fact that her family history and tradition practically forced her onto the battlefield, despite her personal wishes. However, what stood out to him most was the fact that she accepted the responsibility that had been thrust onto her and readily took up arms-an attribute that had surely made her family proud. Quiet and clumsy as she was, she found what she needed to within herself to fight the good fight against Morden. When he had first met her, she had left no lasting image on him, especially since her meek mannerisms set her to the back of the crowd. But after fighting alongside her for quite some time, he had come to respect her deeply and found himself watching over her during the heat of battle. Tarma was a bit of a wild card and never seemed to have any trouble looking after himself except when his psychological equal Eri was around. Those two could run a warzone like a business. The way they decimated enemy forces was incredible, and god help any resistance if a metal slug was within Tarma's reach. Marco chuckled inwardly. The truth was, when the four of them deployed together, there was no need for a careful eye. Eri and Tarma constantly had each other's backs as if they were born for it, despite the fact that Tarma was technically Marco's partner, and likewise for Eri and Fio. However, Fio stood apart from the tackle-and-kill boldness of Tarma and Eri. She had a lighter touch and more than one left foot. Marco could recall one mission in particular that took place in a heavy jungle. Fio had stopped to clean her glasses and managed to drop her pistol in a mud puddle. When she bent over to retrieve it, she slipped in said puddle and nearly fell into a cluster of dense greenery. Had Marco not caught her by instinct, her features would have surely paid the price. But now wasn't the proper time to lounge about reminiscing either. Marco shook his head roughly, confusing Fio who stood waiting at his side.

"Marco?" She inquired, "What's the matter?"

"Ah, nothing. Just some fond memories," He said calmly. Her face lit with a smile.

"Right. Well, maybe once we finish here and get home, you can tell me all about it."

Marco nodded and fought back the touch of embarrassment that had crept through him. "Maybe."

Now back in the zone, Marco and Fio slid along the edge of the platform, walking low and fast to avoid attention if they had missed any forces within shooting distance. The two had almost reached the end of the platform when the loud sound of a military helicopter came roaring into earshot. Fio and Marco looked up and saw a large copter approaching rapidly, the door on its side sliding open roughly to reveal a very familiar face.

Morden. A very pissed off Morden. Marco gave Fio the signal to hold as the helicopter slowed to a hover almost directly above them. Marco was suddenly forced to shield his eyes as the copter lowered itself to about twenty feet from the ground. Morden took his chance and ducked back into the belly of the craft only to return seconds later with a long, cylindrical object in hand. Fio squinted to get a glimpse of the object. By the time she recognized the weapon, Morden had already readied the device and aimed it at the commander, who was attempting to back away from the fierce dusty winds being kicked up by the helicopter's blades.

"Marco! Get down, he's got a rocket launcher!" She yelled. Marco distantly heard Fio's cries over the roar of the copter blades and leapt back right as Morden pulled the trigger. The rocket nearly found its mark, slamming into the ground and exploding mere feet from a dust-blinded Marco. The force of the blast blew the commander off his feet and back into the steel platform Fio was taking cover behind. He landed somewhat hard, the impact knocking the air he had from his lungs in a pained exclamation. His ears ringing, he could only barely make out Fio's voice as she yelled his name. He heard the crack of gunfire from behind him as he shook his head and stood up. Only minor injuries, he thought in the back of his mind. Behind him, Fio had already opened fire on the craft that was carrying Morden, aiming right at Morden himself. Bullets met their mark as Marco, only slightly stunned, saw Morden shake and grunt as his chest was riddled with heated lead. The commander saw and took his chance, ducking low and swiftly retreating to a position at Fio's side.

"Are you alright?" She asked seriously.

"Fine," He grumbled. Noting that Fio's fire had deterred Morden from any further assault, Marco rapidly surveyed the scene for anything useful, only to land his eyes on a fully loaded multi-barrel mounted machine gun stationed just across the way. He nudged Fio's thigh and nodded to the gun, indicating his intentions. Fio caught the motion in her peripherals and stood her ground as Marco made a break for the gun. He reached the large weapon quickly and situated himself behind it, aiming the massive barrels at the helicopter. This time it ends, Morden, he muttered as he pulled the trigger and the barrels rotated to life.

The final battle had begun, and Marco was not about to let Morden slip away again.