• Clouds of dark smoke rose out of hundreds of gutted skyscrapers, choking the stale air and creating a gloomy and dismal scene. As the night crept in, the orange glow of fires still burning gave light to those tormented souls of the dead that continued to remain, trapped forever on these streets of despair.

    Among the jumbled piles of rubble, a squad of Federation Marines cautiously moved forward, their plasma autorifles sweeping the streets and alleys for any sign of enemy activity. They wore segmental slate-gray armor along with a combat helmet equipped with a respirator mask, a thankful commodity that warded off the constant smell of death that clung to the air. “No sign of enemy contacts yet.” One Marine by the name of McKay said through the team’s comlink, his shoulder pads bearing the red stripe of a Sergeant, “What’s the distance to Alpha Team’s last known position, Summers?”

    Summers, a slightly shorter man with green Private 1st Class stripes, quickly glanced at a small GPS device mounted on his wrist. “Just a couple of blocks, sir.” He replied, “Their transponder signal is very weak, but still traceable.”

    “Alright, let’s pick up the pace.” McKay said, “Eyes out. This area’s crawling with TimeSplitters.”

    Roughly a week or so ago, a fleet of TimeSplitter ships consisting of four destroyers and two carriers exited hyperspace near the city world of Poseidon and launched a surprise attack on its human populace. Occupying Federation military personnel held back the invading hoard for a couple of days but were overrun and forced to retreat, allowing the TimeSplitters to seize nearly half the planet. Eventually, reinforcements arrived and provided the weary defenders with the means with which to take back their world.

    The Federation had also sent in their most elite frontline force, Alpha Team, on an extremely top-secret mission into the heart of the city, one that seemed to require the security clearance of the President himself to know anything about. Not two hours after Alpha Team entered enemy-held territory, they were ambushed and Command lost all contact. So McKay and his group of Marines were dispatched to the area with orders to find Alpha Team, and if necessary, provide immediate support.

    As the squad climbed over a massive heap of stone and twisted metal, Summers’s device beeped loudly and the soldier examined the display. “Signal’s getting stronger, sir.” He informed, “Should be just a few meters ahead.”

    “Acknowledged.” McKay said.

    The Marines slowly turned the corner and were met with a scene that was both gruesome and chaotic. Littered across the four-way intersection were dozens of dead bodies, some wearing the olive drab armor of Federation Marines and others garbed in some sort of robotic suits that McKay couldn’t immediately identify. He quickly motioned to his squad, “Spread out! Look for any survivors!”

    The squad quickly bounded across the dusty street and began looking for any sign of life among the dead. As McKay knelt to check one of the bodies, he noticed that he burn mark scouring the fallen Marine’s chest plate was tinted with a sickly green color inconsistent with usual TimeSplitter plasma weaponry. He touched a portion of the burn with his gloved hand and some of the armor crumbled away into dust. Acidic plasma? McKay thought, Is that even possible?

    “Who the heck are these guys?” Summers wondered as he lightly kicked one of the silver-armored bodies, “A new type of ‘Splitter special ops soldier?”

    McKay stood and joined the other man, “Unlikely. See the scuffmarks along the arm plates? Looks like whoever this was took some fire from a TimeSplitter Scatter Gun before ending up here.”

    “Sir!” a Marine shouted from the other side of the battlefield, “I’ve got a live one here!”

    Both McKay and Summers rushed over to where one of the men was leaning over a prone form. “Lie still, soldier, you’re gonna be okay.” McKay said as he checked the man’s gashed side, “You have a name?”

    “O’Niel.” The man replied, “Steven O’Niel” he grimaced as the medic sealed up his wound with self-hardening foam.

    “Pleasure to meet you.” McKay stated, “Lucky for you whoever took the shot barely missed an artery. The foam will have to do for now until we get you to a field hospital.” He gestured to one of his squadmates, “Get Command on the horn. Tell them we’ve located Alpha Team and have a survivor in need of immediate medical treatment.”

    The soldier nodded and trotted away. “In the mean time,” McKay continued, “let’s get O’Niel here on a stretcher.”

    After digging around in his medkit, the medic withdrew a collapsible combat stretcher and laid it flat on the pavement next to Steven. The Marines then slowly lifted the wounded soldier onto the sheet of heavy Kevlar, careful not to cause the hardened foam for break and reopen the wound. “Did you find…anybody?” Steven asked in a husky voice, “Did…anyone else…survive?”

    McKay shook his head grimly, “Doesn’t seem like it. The guys who jumped you and your team certainly weren’t messing around. When your ride arrives, my men and I will stay and continue searching and I’ll let you know if anything turns up.”

    Steven nodded and lapsed into silence, a troubled and concerned look clearly on his dirt-crusted face.

    Ten minutes later, a Stryyker transport helicopter sailed by overhead and landed in the street a few yards away, the steady thump-thump of its wing-mounted rotors echoing off of the abandoned buildings. The squad picked up the stretcher and moved towards the chopper, securing Steven into a specially made section of the craft. Once the Marines had vacated the area around it, McKay gave the pilot the go-ahead and the helicopter lifted away, angling back towards its place of birth. McKay watched it leave for a few moments more before turning back to his squad, “Alright boys, let’s keep searching and pray that that man isn’t the sole survivor of this massacre.”