Far above, an explosion ripped across a post-apocalyptic street, sending a hail of shattered masonry and scattered debris to settle in a slightly different pattern of chaos than had been left by the last bombing run. Battle scars upon battle scars tore through what had probably once been a beautiful part of the city; now all that was left was a ruin, empty for all but the scattered few who made the mistake of lingering too long to raid the wreckage after the last attack.

In the subterranian maze of tunnels that had once been sewers, cellars, and subways, the only indication of the airstrike above was a slight shuddering of the concrete around them, and a light dusting dislodged from the ceiling. Most of the precession of solemn, black-clad soldiers ignored these signs entirely, but the youngest among them seemed a little skittish and distracted; and just couldn't manage to keep his mouth shut about it.

"Why is it we have to rescue this guy again, sir?" he asked, a hint of a nervous edge in his voice.

The Major rounded on him with a fire in his eyes that implied just what awaited the Lieutenant if he dared to speak again. "Because when Colonel Hunter says jump, we say 'how high?'." His eyes narrowed. "You get me, L.T.?"

Though initially taken aback by the surge of stern from his commanding officer, to his credit the Lieutenant managed to keep his composure, even straightening up to near attention. "I get you, sir," he replied, jaw clamping closed with deliberate effort to prevent some sarcastic remark from escaping.

The Major let his glare linger for a moment or two longer. "Good," he grunted, before turning back towards the way they were headed. He walked a few silent paces - despite not speaking, he still managed to radiate the same gruff tone that laced his voice when he talked - before deciding to grace his unfortunate second-in-command with a response. At the time of the Uprising, the Lieutenant had been a young officer fresh from the Academy, training his way up to flight status as a fighter pilot. He'd bounced around a few units in the years since, never making it past First Lieutenant - primarily because he was an arrogant jackass, as far as the Major could fathom - but for some reason, Colonel Hunter had taken a shine to him. Were the Major a paranoid and cynical man, which he was, he'd guess that the Colonel had done it purely to get on his nerves.

"For those of us who weren't paying attention in the briefing, Lieutenant," the Major announced, his voice carrying back down the corridor as he continued to lead their brisk advance, "We don't give a damn about 'this guy' - he's a very small fish in a very big pond, as far as the grand scheme is concerned. What we give a damn about is the DEFCON 1 mutant holding him. Intel has it that Psion wants to get his grubby, telekinetic paws on this guy, likely so he can suck out his power and add it to his collection. It's a fairly safe bet that if Psion gets what he wants it'll work out very bad for us: so our job is to make sure that doesn't happen."

That seemed to satisfy the Lieutenant, at least for a few moments; the precession continued in silence with renewed purpose, weaving their way through the underground warren towards where their target was - supposedly - being held. The blessed silence was not to last, however: but at least this time, the Lieutenant managed to dampen out a little of the arrogance and jackass in his tone. "One other question, sir. What happens if we encounter Psion?"

The Major stopped at that. The remainder of his team, who had served with him for far longer than the Lieutenant, stopped as well. There was no annoyance in Major Harriman's features; merely disappointment that cause for the question existed at all. His eyes passed between each of his men, settling on the Lieutenant last of all. "Let me make this very plain, all of you." His voice was quiet: the kind of quiet that demanded a respectful silence to let it be heard. There was an edge of anger too, but not directed towards anyone nearby. "As far as I am concerned, during this mission or at any other time; I only have four brothers, and they are standing with me in this corridor, right now." A glimmer of respect began to form in the Major as he regarded the Lieutenant - the only member of the group brave enough to ask the question that they all must have been thinking. "If you see Psion - if you have a kill shot - then you take that son of a bitch down. Understood?"

The Lieutenant squared his shoulders, and offered a curt nod in response. "Yes, sir," he said firmly, on behalf of the group.

"Alright then." Tom let his gaze linger on his soldiers for a few moments more, before the mantle of Major descended back onto his shoulders. "Lets go be heroes. Move out."