Prologue - Senseless bloodshed. 

“Well, fuck.”

Simple words can mean so much.

“Fucking hell, why’d do we have dumb psychopaths as our officers!”, an oddly tall hispanic engineer fighting another senseless patriotic war exaggerated. However, it’s the closest thing one person can use, so to just describe the officers in the Martian Colonial Militia.

BANG, TRTRTR, BANG, bullets rip through the thin atmosphere of Europa, some hit the almost brittle surface of Ice, cracking it a tiny bit.. The certain engineer could only shake his head at the stupidity of the battle, because of the major risk of destroying the ice, which would take everyone under the cold endless ocean.

Alas, all he could do is grit his teeth, and continue fighting for his life. The man took a random gunpowder-rifle that was littered with bodies, inspecting it and the magazine. The man smiled, seeing the rifle being one of his favorite firearms, and it having 50 rounds left.

Even if the gun was of an outdated family, it still was effective in the cursed moon of Europa. WHIZZ! He drops to the ground and behind cover, barely dodging the whistling bullets. Using the HUD of his spacesuit, he checks the heat signatures. Unfortunately, it does not pick up anything. 

“These guys must be important, if they have heat scramblers .”, he mutters before peeking ahead of the hunk of machinery that was protecting him, PING! The man instinctively ducked his head, after hearing the somewhat satisfying sound of a bullet being stopped by metal.

The engineer was a cautious and rational man, and knew thinking before going Rambo style would be the best option. He closes his eyes trying to see a way out of his dire situation. 

‘Grenades? No, all I have left are smoke bombs and a flash bang, wait! How dumb of me!’, he berated himself, before taking a flash grenade.

“I’ve got only one shot, got to be ready…”, the man almost removes the failsafe of the bomb before seeing a discarded piece of metal, or mirror? The man quickly takes the piece, and while using it, he checks the battlefield.

The scene was filled with various gunfights, crashed vehicles, and even a stronghold. The latter being the goal of the doomed operation he was tasked with. In front of him, was an oblivious enemy soldier, who was waiting for him to come out.

“Alright, time to see white, dear.”, the engineer chuckled before taking out the failsafe, and tossing the flash grenade. He waited 5 seconds before hearing the white noise. 

He jumped out of his cover, rushing the post where the enemy soldier hid, before jumping the injured man. He did not kill him, but just incapacitated him by a swift punch that was aided by the exoskeleton of his suit.

The man quickly then radioed through friendly channels.

“This is Zulu-3 speaking, who’s near the goal?”

“Us Tango squad, none dead.”, 

“Fox's squad's almost dead,  with the exception being me, Fox-1.”, Fox-1 had an older voice when compared to his comrades, a hint of his experience.

The man could only frown in disdain, after hearing only a fraction of their 100-man force was alive.

“I suppose you’re our leader, staff sergeant, in terms of more experience and rank.”, the engineer concluded.

“Yeah, I’ve got a new plan in place of the shitty one given to us. First, come to a single damaged  enemy M6 Bradley- there should also be a flag post near it. See you soon, Fox-1 out.”, the experienced ‘Rambo’ of the engineer's platoon was , at the very least, a small relief for the Martians.

The engineer warily looked around his area, later spotting the light tank with the

Europa Insurgency flag near it. He quickly begins to run over there. BOOM! He was cut short by an artillery barrage, however, it only managed to push him back several meters, before the engineer landed on his back.

The engineer thought his back would be in immense pain, but realized there was none, meaning adrenaline had already kicked in.

This time, he ran to the limit, dodging various bullets, before jumping to the cover of the tank. The man lie prone for a moment, relaxed.

“Zulu-3, I presume?”, an older man stood ahead of him with a welcoming yet serious voice. The engineer raised his head, showing a sheepish smile. The staff sergeant sported the normal MCM suit, with only his massive scoped anti-material rifle standing out.

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“Yeah, but if you want, you can call me Toros, staff sergeant.”, Toros lifts himself up, and gives a salute to his superior.

“What is that? Red-bull?”, he half-jokingly asked.

“Close, just remove the red.”

“Ah, I’m not that rusty after all! You can call me Johnson, sergeant.”, Johnson ave the honor for the Hispanic to treat him as his equal, which was like getting the respect of Schwarzenegger.

“Johnson, did you see Tango squad?”

“No, not yet…”, he replied with a tiny bit of worry.

BANG, WHIZZ! Suddenly, sounds of deadly gunfire echoed, recoiling both of the heads of the soldiers.

“It must be them! Change of plans, we’re helping them!” Johnson pointed to a scene of broken machinery and fighting soldiers, with some of them bearing the colors of MCM. Using his scope, he scans the fight, before taking shots. He’s quickly joined by Toros, who tries to score hits with a less precise weapon.

It wasn’t long before they were shot back, both hid in their cover.

“Tango squad, we’re laying suppressive fire on your load, try to rush them.”, Johnson ordered through the radio.

“Copy that.” More diverse gunfire could be heard, coming from Tango squad’s position.

Johnson quickly reloads his rifle, and resumes firing. Almost deafening shots take place, thankfully the suits of both soldiers suppress the sounds.

“John, Imma move to another spot, then I’ll join you, ok?” Johnson agrees, before ducking.

Toros scans for cover, before spotting one ahead of him. With the little adrenaline left, he quickly rushes there, miraculously dodging shots that should have killed him.

Now behind the cover, Toros takes deep breaths. He looks at the sky, instead of seeing the sun he knew, he saw Jupiter quite clearly. The strange colors and huge tornado storm unleashes the curiosity of Toros, as he has only seen photos and artificial maps of the giant.

However, he snaps back to reality and returns to the hell of what war is.

He quickly checks the surroundings ahead of him, before ducking bullets. He grits his teeth , before radioing “John, can you distract them, I’m pinned!”

The radio only hissed in static, worrying the engineer.

‘Shit, is he dead? No he must be too busy!”, Toros argues with himself.

“Alright, I’ll try to lessen your load.”, the relieving voice of ‘Rambo’ gave a huge boost to Toros. Toros only waits, until the loud and heavy gunfire of a certain specific rifle starts, being quickly met with lesser guns.

Toro quickly goes out of cover and shoots the muzzle flashes, scoring some hits at same time.

“John, sorry if I’m asking too much, but please give me suppressive fire, I’m gonna rush em’.” Toros patiently waits for a response. 

“What? What about going together?, Johnson asked, confused.

“I’ve got the perfect chance, they're mainly focusing on you now!”, Toros replied annoyed.

“Alright, alright! Give em’ hell son!”

“I will.” Toros hears the impossible sound of John’s rifle’s almost automatic firing, and grins at the prowess of his comrade. He waits for the enemy’s turn to fire, before rushing the enemy positions.

Somehow, the enemy remains fixated on John, which helps Toros reach them with no inconvenience. Before Toros starts raiding the position, he steels himself as he knows he’ll see the possible gory deaths of fellow soldiers.

Toros rushes in BANG, an enemy falls to the cold hard surface. BANG, BANG, two more men fall down, this time, blood and guts spill over the ground, earning a wince from Toro before looking away.

The sound sensors of his suits pick up the faint noise of footsteps, which are coming from the hallway ahead of him. He rapidly switches his weapon with another, before kneeling and aiming his weapon at the hallway.

BANG,TRTRTRTRTR! The force that was supposed to intercept Toros, quickly became victims of manslaughter at the hands of Toros and an unknown soldier. He knows the unknown might be one of his own, but his training at least gave him a sense of caution.

“Who’s there? I’m Zulu-3.”, Toros shouted. A pregnant silence engulfed the room, before obnoxious steps were made.

“I ain’t giving you a third chance, who’re you?” Toros ready his gun, letting his finger only touch the trigger.

“Relax Toros, it’s me.”, the mature carefree voice of ‘rambo’ echoed throughout the room

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that.”, Toros sighed before lowering his gun down. Johnson entered the room, with his huge-ass rifle being the only identifying thing about him.

“Did you see the squad?”, Toros questioned his superior, ironically.

“No, you?” Toros only shakes his head.

“Let's venture in more.”, Toros suggested getting a nod from John. Both men cautiously entered the room with pure focus, they noticed bodies of both the insurgents and their fellow soldiers.

“Jesus, what the hell happened here.”, Johnson commented with visible disgust.

“A slaughter, obviously, but our boys weren’t lucky.”, Toros replied with a melancholic tone. Both men try to shield their thoughts from the mess of bodies, but cannot. Using whatever strength and courage left from the exhausting battle, both men continued on venturing.

The trip became uneventful after that messy scene. That was until they reached the communications room

The room had no surprises, at least physically, as there were no enemies nor bodies. However, this was the objective. The room seemed too… uninteresting—so to be the reason for the deaths of almost 100 good men. The men could only grit their teeth and clench their weapons in frustration.

“Jesus, all that death for this!”Johnson scowled at the dead-brained superiors he responded to.

“Toros, we’re going to destroy this place!”, a delusioned ‘Rambo’  screamed.

“I agree John, but I’ve got to get the data out, that’s why I’m here.” Toro quickly went to an interface, leaving his gun on the floor. He took a special outlet from his suit, and joined it to one of the ports of the computer.

“You’re a programmer?”, John asked.

“Eh close.” The computer screen was showing a message, saying “Locked!”, before disappearing by some hacker magic.

“An engineer then?”, John asked again, earning a chuckle from Toros.

“Yeah, and a good one.”, Toros bragged.

“You sure?”, John said in a mocking tone, just to be ignored.

Toros continued to search for the information, before he found some truly concerning information.

“Shit.”, Toros muttered.

“What is it?”, an ignorant Rambo asked.

“They're gonna attack earth next!”, Toros said hysterically with widened eyes.

“We gotta get that information to high comm-AH!” John fell , clutching his chest in pain.

“And that’s why I can’t let you live.”, a new sinister female voice said, making Toros slightly uncomfortable. The voice appeared to be from a woman with a different suit to the rebels, and she carried a simple pistol.

Toros moved his head to eye his gun.

“Uh-Uh, I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” The woman approached Toros with her gun aiming at him, with the obvious want to shoot him.

“You’re orchestrating this, aren't you?”, Toros questioned.

“My, my, you’re a smart one.”, she chuckled.

“Why?”

“To clean the filth humanity did.”, the words were quite impactful, as Toros was shot somewhere. He staggers before fully falling.

“So long boys, have a good res-Ah!”, the sexy bitch screamed, before another shot was fired, Toros barely turned his head to see rambo shakily hold his rifle.

Toros chuckled, before his mind slipped.