In the debris of the battlefield, an M4 sub machine gun stood erect by its bayonet, which was firmly planted in the ground. A pair of Dog tags saying "Kelth, Tim L, Type A blood, a social security number, USMC, medium size gas mask, Christian." Atop this gun lay a worn and tattered helmet. A Mameluke sword lay beside it. Under this barren soil lied one of the last of the American heroes. "Showed up a little late." Joe grunted. "Thats because our base got plowed by the Zemka." Joe tuned on his heels. "Wanna repeat that?" Joe covered his face with his hands. "Casualties?" "I'm lookin' for a Jared."