Part 2: Edge of the line
Chapter 1: The Outpost
Two Weeks Later, Allen
“Okay, we know the plan. Jump to the old Republic district of earth, clear the area, and start fortifying a base. Then wait for the next wave of guardians to relieve us. Clear? Good. Then head to radio silence for the rest of the mission, don’t want fallen picking up on our plan.”
Allen turned off his microphone, and sighed. Looking over the expanse of space at his four man fire team, Dorans ship hovered by and gave a small acknowledgement shake before rejoining the formation of fighters.
Wilkins ship was next, the black wolf probably wondering if he made the right choice in friends right about now. The wolf's ship fell in line next to Dorans, the falcon decal clear on the nose of his spacecraft.
Last was Xyan, the dragon giving his bomber a barrel roll before spinning and returning to formation. Allen had to grin: The pride filled firedrake was a cocky one, but he liked a guardian with a kick in their stride as well.
Turning on his microphone one last time, Allen said into the speaker, “Right, as we’re all ready, stick to the plan and follow my lead.”
His fire team started their descent into Earth's gravity and lowered into high orbit to slingshot around Terra Firma. As they lowered, Wilkins ship sent a coded message, which read “Al, The area we’re set for is under heavy rain. Advise?”
Allen mulled it over: on one hand, it would let them have visual cover, but on the other, so did the enemy. He made his decision and began typing, “Team, advise we tread with care and split up to minimalize being cornered. Good warning Wilkins, you and Xyan head off and band up while me and Doran start looking for that potential base site.”
He sent the message and then asked his ghost for a terrain scan, wanting to put down.
Doran
Doran gave another brief waggle of his starship’s wings to acknowledge the instruction, wanting to avoid any unnecessary radio chatter from there forward. He eased the ship down lower into the atmosphere, activating the various sensor packages and starting to scan for a good site. To his Ghost, he said, “Alright Casper, let’s start narrowing this down. Enough level and hopefully clear ground to give us some space to work with, but defensible too. If we can find some forest that’s open enough to accommodate a base while keeping us hidden from casual aerial searches, that’d be ideal… but probably too much to hope for. In which case we’ll want to make setup of the anti-air units an early priority.”
“Agreed. Preliminary lidar terrain sweep is finished, searching for candidate sites. Also, why did I agree to that name again?”
“Because you know and accept my reverence for pre-Golden Age cryptoarchaeology. And you thought it was a better Ghost name than ‘Slimer.’”
The Ghost’s only response to that was a vaguely irate-sounding burble of static. It then opted to change the subject. “A few possibilities. Highlighting them on your map. Nearest is Site 3, flat meadow situated between a tall ridge and dense forest. Might offer some visual cover. There’s a small stream nearby as well.”
“Sounds hopeful. Alright, let’s land and start the survey work there, send the scan telemetry to Allen so he can see how the others look. And be sure to pack the umbrella.”
Allen
Meanwhile, Allen waded through the broken remains of a former apartment block, shaking his head in sorrow. For all that we gain fighting them, He thought, We still have lost so much. He lifted his head at the sound of his ghost. “Got the location, small pre-collapse high school, not half a mile from here.”
Allen smiled a bit, and replied, “Good job, Jake, send that possible location to Wilkins, I think he’s closest. Also, what’s the status with Doran? Get us a head count, don’t want anyone going dark on us.”
His ghost when silent aside from the occasional beep and putter, before turning to him. “Question, why did you decide to name me Jake of all things?”
Allen chuckled, and replied, “Because I doubt you’d like Fin either, and you remind me more of of a dog in personality more than anything else.”
His ghost gargled static that sounded exactly like sarcastic laughter and Allen laughed. He then started for the high school, getting his response from Wilkins. “Near by,” He read, “With a good spot to cover you should push come to shove. Repositioning in five, Keep your wits sharp and your weapon ready, I have a bad feeling about this place.”
Doran
Doran stepped under the wing of his landed ship and shook some of the rain from his coat, glancing again over the survey results on his datapad. “Well we’ve tried a couple sites now, and they both look like they might do but I don’t like how open they are. I think Allen might have the right idea with his sites, checking for something we can use in amongst the urban ruins.”
His Ghost materialized beside him with a chirp. “I agree. These sites could be good staging areas or landing zones, but the telemetry that Allen’s Ghost has sent me looks more favorable. Shall I relay our findings?”
“Please. And fire up the engines. Let’s head to the city and meet up, just in case they run into any trouble. Anything that’ll make good cover for us could be cover for our enemies too.”
Allen
Allen pushed old rubble off a table inside a classroom, setting down his revolver in easy reach, and opened his pack for the gear. “Lets see, two or three tripmines from Korey, and a flash grenade from Cody. Thank you both, and some clear wire to finish the job.”
Allen started rigging traps though the halls, while also starting to reinforce an area as a fallback position. After boarding and stacking up some sand bags, he smiled behind his visor at the small fort he made within the building. Then, turning around, he started for the next series of objectives: Outer defense. Several items pulled up on his HUD: Anti Vehicle Spikes, Blast shields, Small sandbag cover emplacements, and entrenching tools. All and all, the high school area was going to be a good start for defense.
Doran
To any Fallen listening in, the burst of static Doran sent out would sound like nothing more than that. The exact pattern and pitch of the static however was a pre-arranged signal that Cody Xyan’s Ghost would be able to recognize as a rally signal. Effective radio silence was maintained, and the Titan got the message to rendezvous his heavy bomber with Doran’s scout ship in the ruined city.
Both ships came to hover along a stretch of road in what had once been downtown, broken hulks of skyscrapers reaching upward and leaving the urban canyon in shadow as the two Guardians transmatted to the ground and met up. At a hand signal from Doran, his Ghost piloted his ship back upward then, heading for a high-altitude holding pattern to stay out of harm’s way. Xyan’s bomber followed, the Guardians watching the ships go as they walked up to one another.
“Anything promising?” Doran asked.
“Nah, not really. That old mine was worth a look but as near as my scans could work out the entire system’s long since collapsed. You?”
“A possibility but not an ideal one. I think Allen and Wilkins will have had more luck in the urban sites they were checking. I figured it made sense for us to meet up and make our way to them on foot from here. I didn’t want our ships landing too close and giving away their locations. If things stay quiet, we can use the walk to scout these ruins if anything looks interesting, too.”
The Titan chuckled, giving his weapons a quick check and then holding his rifle at the ready. “You Warlocks, always looking for Golden Age mumbo-jumbo.” A wink at the blue dragon reassured him the jab was only meant in jest.
Doran just smirked as he started walking. “Hey, we have to fill our free time with something other than just punching things and grunting a lot.” With a grin and a playful swish of his tail, he continued before Cody could rise to that bait. “Besides, most of my most interesting finds have actually been pre-Golden Age.”
“That so? I wouldn’t have thought stuff that old would be worth all that much. Simple mechanics and knowledge before the Traveller started showing us how to craft with Light and all.”
“Sure, the weapons and power sources and such have nothing on Golden Age tech, but I find it fascinating to see what we were managing as a culture on our own. Before the Traveller elevated everything. Obviously I’m grateful for what it gave us, but there’s something to be said for what we managed entirely on our own before that, too.”
Xyan responded with a thoughtful grunt. “Suppose so. Though I still prefer weapons. A little more relevant to my day job.” Doran laughed, and had to concede that point.
Allen
Allen, meanwhile, was hard at work, bending his back to dig a trench, while his ghost digi-structed a metal spike barrier for preventing vehicles getting too close to the building. The trench was both cover and a defensive trap. When he finished, he paused to check in on everyone, sending a coded message.
“Base is being fortified,” He said, the device taking spoken word into text, “What’s your status? Sound off, over.”
As the message was sent, A faint bang was heard, followed by a distant rumble that could resemble thunder. Allen shuttered, praying it was just a distant storm that would trouble him. But as if to confirm his fears, his ghost piped up, “Be advised, Fallen Ketch coming in low, looks like it’s dropping off patrol ships.”
“Well, horse shit,” He muttered, immediately starting to head back for the school, “Get word to the others, things are gonna get dicey.”
Doran
Doran crouched in the dust at the roadside, his gloved fingers pushing aside small bits of debris to reveal the object. A thin rectangle about the size of his hand, plated with some kind of metal that had been shiny once, and a black glass panel bearing a few shallow cracks. It had once been a touchscreen interface for the device, Doran reasoned, basing the assumption upon similar artifacts he’d found before. Casper materialized at the dragon’s shoulder, peering down at the tarnished silver object and scanning it briefly with soft rays of blue light.
“Pre-Golden Age?” Doran asked, turning it slowly.
“Early Golden Age, actually. The power source is long dead and the holographic display has broken, but the storage technology is stable. There’s no Light in the construction but it appears to be an advanced variation on the earlier solid-state memory technology we’ve found before.”
“Huh… they weren’t crafting with Light yet, but the Traveller had begun to show them how to perfect their existing technology?”
“A reasonable assumption. And the highest capabilities of what we were learning from the Traveller were probably being channeled toward more important pursuits like space travel, terraforming, and philosophy. No real need to weave Light and magic for small personal data storage devices.”
Doran nodded, standing up and regarding the object. “You said the memory is stable... Think you can download what’s on it?”
“I already did. The data are well-structured and corruption is minimal. It’s a media device, full of music and video, about fifteen terabytes’ worth. Early and pre-Golden Age. No military use, but the Cryptarchs and historians will be thrilled.” The Ghost turned, levelling his eye at the blue dragon. “As, I expect, you will be.”
Behind his visor, Doran was already grinning widely. “You know me. Start sorting it into our library in your free time. I’ll have to explore the new findings when we get a quiet moment.”
“You and Allen should really swap findings sometime. He has a thing for classic media as well. His Ghost complained to me of it.” Casper turned slightly in midair, nodding on his axis to indicate Xyan who was leaning against a battered wall, looking bored. “For now though, I think our friend is getting eager to move on.”
Doran chuckled, slipping the media device into a pocket of his coat and holding up a hand in apology to the other dragon as he walked over to him. “Sorry Cody. Let’s keep moving.”
The Titan shrugged, standing up and continuing down the broken road with Doran. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t really go in for obsolete tech and dead people’s music, but if we find a weapons cache or something I’ll probably bore you the same way.”
“Oh don’t get me wrong, I like weapons too. Wonder if Wilkins had any exciting finds in that military base armory he was going to check out.”
“Damned wolf gets all the fun jobs.” Both dragons came to an abrupt halt then and raised their heads, listening as their headsets came alive with the warning relayed by Allen’s Ghost. “Do you-” Xyan began, then cut off when the distant thunderous rumble of the Ketch dropping out of slipspace sounded down the canyon of buildings.
“That sounds like a Ketch…” Doran said with a frown, instinctively grabbing his weapon.
“It is,” Xyan’s Ghost confirmed, shimmering into existence beside the two of them. “I’m in contact with Allen and Wilkins’ Ghosts. It’s deploying skiffs, dropping troops. They’re engaging. About three miles ahead.”
The dragons looked at each other, Doran slinging his scout rifle across his back again. “Sparrows.” Xyan nodded quickly in acknowledgement, and their Ghosts quickly operated the transmat systems to materialize their stored hover-bikes at the ready. Both Guardians quickly mounted up, hitting the accelerators to take off down the road before their tails had even touched the seats.
Allen
“Contact! Bloody hell!” Allen shouted into the microphone. His HUD radar flooded with red beads, each dot the size of an old world quarter. Seven in total, the Fallen Drop ships began to circle the school building turned fortress. Without warning, two of the seven began unloading their primary turret guns into the side of the building. Dust and loose rubble shook and fell on Allen, but the building held firm for the moment. Allen swore again, and began radioing Korey.
“Wilkins, Wilkins, do you copy?! Fuck the silence, the jig is up! Go Loud!!” Not a moment later, a rifle round the size of an american football rammed into the leading fallen ship, causing it to sputter and implode upon hitting the primary ammo bank. Allen let out a slow whistle as the other six ships began turning about, trying to trace the quickly fading vapor trail.
Another thunder of fire and a second ship was clipped, its side engines failing and causing it to side swipe a third ship. As the wrecked transport ships fell, Allen heard a garbled message. “Sorry, Took…. Long to get the … thing in place. Give me… to reposition. Ackno…?”
Allen got the mindset of the transmission, though he wished for more. “Acknowledged, Falcon one, Unleash your talons! Fly free!” Allen heard one more rifle round, and then all that was left was the silence of two fallen ships in the air. Allen had to admit, he made a good choice in bringing the wolf alone. He only hoped that Xyan would be the same.
Doran
“Holy hell, did any Fallen NOT come to this party?” Xyan cursed as he and Doran rode their Sparrows into view of the ruined high school, swinging around some low buildings. At the end of the wide street they’d just joined, the newly-fortified building was taking fire from multiple circling skiffs, covering for one another as they took turns depositing ground troops in the courtyard before the school’s front entrance. Nearby, smoke billowed from the wreckage of the skiffs Wilkins had already grounded.
The pair of dragons kept their Sparrows at full throttle, racing down the avenue and weaving between the burned and rusted hulks of long-dead cars. One of the Fallen skiffs spotted them and turned its turrets to start firing on the pair, but the speed of their vehicles kept them ahead of the targeting sensors.
Having heard Allen’s order to break radio silence, Doran roared into his mic against the shock cannon blasts. “Allen! Wilkins! Xyan and I are inbound to render assistance. And we’re coming in hot!” He then waved an arm silently at Xyan, pointing to the rightmost group of Fallen Dregs and Vandals that were massing in the courtyard, firing on the school’s main door. He and Xyan had trained together hard enough over the past couple weeks to understand each other well, so the Titan took his meaning immediately and only gave a brief in acknowledgement.
Xyan kept driving his Sparrow at top speed right up to the group, waiting until his vehicle’s nose was almost up to them before leaping from the seat. Propelled through the air by the craft’s speed, the dragon extended his arms out in front of him and channeled his Light up the armoured plates, the power forming crackling arcs of electricity around his joined fists. He came down in the middle of the group, slamming his fists to the ground and unleashing a thunderclap of electrical power. It penetrated the ground around him before surging back upward, arcs of lightning erupting all around him and lancing through the armor of the assembled Fallen.
Only a couple Dregs managed to leap far and fast enough to avoid the blast, and Xyan quickly dispatched them with a series of lightning-fast blows from his armored fists. The rest were vaporized by the intense energy released by the Titan’s Fist of Havoc.
No less effectively, Doran sped his Sparrow toward a different group of Fallen and lept into the crowd in much the same fashion. In his case, it was his usual three-pronged Nova Bomb that flew from his outstretched hand, carpet-bombing a Fallen Captain and his Dreg bodyguards into ash.
There were plenty more Fallen massed nearby, and the confusion caused by the dragons’ shock-and-awe entrance wouldn’t last long. Using the dust stirred up by their attacks as cover, they raced into the ruins of nearby buildings adjacent to the school before one of the skiffs could get a bead on them with its turrets.
“Allen,” Doran reported into the radio as he tucked himself behind a low wall and drew his rifle. “We’re here, and the front entrance is a little less crowded than a moment ago. Still plenty of Tangos about though, where do you need us?”
Allen
“Alright, Xyan, you take the left wing and Doran, you’ve got the right. I’ll keep to the center wing and take out those last enemies. Don’t get cosey people, I’ve activated the Beacon for The Tower to send reinforcements, but from what I heard, we’ve got a thirty minute window of waiting.”
As he said this, Allen fired shots at several dregs, popping their masks off, and exposing them to the oxygen enriched air. For some reason, Fallen couldn’t breath air, and required regulators to breath on earth. He took advantage of this, even when the shot to the head wasn’t outright fatal, the lack of breathable atmosphere, for them, left the Fallen gasping and choking on the ground.
Another loud bang sounded, and he swore again. “Shit, more uninvited guests.” He said, making a light joke, “Vallet, please take care of their transport, would ya?” He got an acknowledgement light from Wilkins, and smiled as he saw the Transport craft lowering to them. “That’s right you bastards, get in nice and close so there’s no where to run~”
Doran
“Sheesh, what the heck did Wilkins find in that armory?” Doran wondered aloud, watching the latest Fallen skiff to arrive drop out of the sky and collide spectacularly with a nearby building.
“I have no idea but I want one,” Xyan responded with a grin, then turned toward the right wing of the school, making for a hole the Fallen invaders had blasted through one of the near walls.
Doran nodded and started toward a similar hole in the left wing, readying himself for combat. “Right, Allen we’re coming inside. We’ll each take a wing and scour it until until we can’t find any more Fallen.” Leaping into the darkened opening with his scout rifle ready, he turned his attention to his Ghost. “Casper, change of plan. I’m not going to need a sniper in here. Mind swapping it out for the shotty?”
It took a few moments for the material data to transfer through the transmat system, but when it finished Casper gave a warble of acknowledgement. Doran slung the rifle across his back and pulled out the shotgun; a violent little number painted in blue and red with the stock sawn off. Not the most refined of tools, but quite satisfying in tight quarters. The blue dragon waded into the darkness as his Ghost lit the way, searching for some Vandals to introduce to his new friend.
Allen
Allen let off a series of shots, getting a sick satisfaction as each round met a Fallen skull, popping each helmet like a blister. Meanwhile, he heard the sound of several high powered shotgun shells going off in the right wing, and a few wet punches in the left, letting him get the gist of what was going on with his allies.
To his mild dismay, the sun started to rise, adding light to their position and making their base easier to see. “Wilkins” He said, hearing a fresh batch of ships enter normal space, “Be ready, Things are getting hot as Praxic Fire here!”
A garbled acknowledgment followed, “Understood, but… on… ion! Making m… ots count!”
Doran
A Vandal crouched in the darkness, invisible twice over for the deep shadows and the invisibility cloak that curved what little light was present around its form. Its two stronger hands held shock daggers that crackled softly with contained electric charge, but the sounds of battle reverberating through the structure were enough to cover the sound. It also had a pair of shock pistols slung on its belt within easy reach of its lower arms; these were small, weak, and new. Only weeks previously the Vandal had been a Dreg, but had earned itself a promotion and a new pair of arms through glory in battle and relic finds for their Servitors in the broken ruins of Earth. The new arms were steady enough to work the pistols, but not yet strong enough to wield blades effectively. No matter; two knives would be more than enough to take the light of the lone Guardian who fumbled through the dark hallway nearby. His death would pave the way for further promotions for the Vandal, and there would be one less enemy to stand in the way of its House’s conquest.
So the Vandal believed. But the Fallen consistently failed to appreciate the long experience many Guardians had in recognizing the feel of a nearby threat in the shadows, the telltale arcs of light that gave away a Vandal’s stealth cloak in the darkness. The Vandal gauged its timing and leapt out from behind its corner, daggers already lunging for its target’s chest, but Doran was ready for it. A single shotgun blast roared through the air and reduced the Vandal’s head to an unrecognizable state, abruptly ending the creature’s aspirations. Some time later, the blue dragon might pause and reflect upon the death of his enemies, what that Vandal’s aspirations had been, if it had had a name. At present he was simply focused on staying alive and removing the threats that wanted his friends and him dead. So he continued his hunt through the darkened halls, hunting down the entrenched Fallen one by one and ascending a broken stairwell when the ground floor offered no further targets.
Xyan was making similar progress in the far wing of the school, albeit concerning himself less with stealth and subtlety than his brother dragon. Quickly rotating between the loud spray of his auto rifle, the brutal force of his armored fists, and outright vaporizing his enemies with a powerful fusion rifle, he’d already made his way to the upper floor and cleared most of his wing. Knowing what to look for it was easy enough to spot and avoid the mines that Allen had set to defend his position, so he slipped past them and radioed a warning ahead as he joined up with the Clydesdale in the fortified section of the building.
“Apologies for the late arrival!” he barked quickly, moving to take position beside Allen. He might have said more, but stopped himself when he saw how many new skiffs had just entered their airspace. Gritting his teeth he braced his auto rifle on the windowsill and began to provide what covering fire he could.
Allen
“Wilkins, I saw one break away and head your direction. Respond?” Allen listened intently to the static, catching. “Cop.. Re… ing and heading yo…. Over!” He swore again. “Piece of crap technology!” He then heard a distinct loud bang, and turned his head. From the direction Wilkins was in, A small mushroom cloud started to rise in the air. His eyes wide from within the helmet, he slowly walked forward in the clouds direction.
“No… No, no, Fuck, NO!” Allen slowly broke into a gallop, only stopped by a quick acting Xyan. With a bounding leap, the firedrake tackled Allen to the ground.
“Kid, get a hold of yourself!” Xyan Yelled to a fighting Allen, trying to keep the Equine pinned. “LET ME GO, GOD DAMN IT! WE CAN STILL HELP HIM!” Allens’ emotion fueled shouting filled the air. “FUCK YOU, YOU DRUNKEN SACK OF SHIT, LET ME GO!!!”
“Allen, snap out of it! You can’t help him! He’s al-” Xyan began.
“Already back,” The wolf finished, stepping out from behind a battered wall. Fur singed and helmet gone, he limped into the area, a weak grin on his face. “Sky Captain Korey Wilkins Easterby, First Flight, reporting in sir.” He threw a weak salute and toppled over, immediately being surrounded by present company.
Chapter 2: Danger Close
Doran
Doran let out an alarmed squawk as a section of the school’s roof collapsed uncomfortably close to him, the explosions rocking through the abused structure and stressing parts of it beyond their capability. It took a few moments of clawing through fresh rubble before he was able to finally rendezvous with the rest of his team, scrabbling over a broken wall and trotting toward the assembled Guardians.
“What on Earth was-” he started to ask, when he saw the wolf collapse. “Shit, Wilkins!” he broke into a run, diving to Wilkins’ side as quickly as he could and starting to check over his body. “Casper, help me out here. How bad is it?”
Doran’s Ghost materialized and scanned the downed Guardian, not answering immediately.
Allen
The wine of an arc rail gun charging snapped Allen out of his state of blind panic. “Cody, Take my six! We gotta buy Doran Time!” Without a look behind him, Allen dived off the roof of the building, an arc lance round striking the place he was just a moment ago. Xyan paused long enough to say, “Get him in cover and keep working. If Korey dies…. Don’t let it happen!” With that, he fired his jetpack and launched off the roof, a spray of bullets getting absorbed in his shield.
Allen, meanwhile, was working on taking out the sniper that nearly shot him. Revolver in hand, he spotted the glint of the fallen weapon scope and with a small prayer fired a burst of rounds down range at it. The glint of the scope disappeared and he swore he saw the spray of alien blood on the wall behind it.
Xyan, with his rocket in hand, took aim at an approaching Fallen skiff and let loose both tubes of the launcher. The craft shuddered and groaned as it crashed down, raising a small dust cloud.
Doran
Doran ducked his head as the rail gun round snapped through the air not far from any of them, frowning and crouching over Wilkins’ body. “Can we at least move him?” he growled at his Ghost.
Casper gave a brief shake, stirring itself from the concentration of scanning the wolf’s body. “Yes, if we’re careful about it. He’s got a lot of internal injuries, mostly from concussive force. His armor took the worst of the burns at least.”
“Small miracles,” the dragon muttered, carefully wrapping his arms around Korey’s shoulders and dragging him deeper into the broken room, pulling him behind a low wall to try and keep him out of enemy fire. He then sat crosslegged beside the wolf and rested his gloved hands on his chest, bowing his head and closing his eyes.
Healing an injured Guardian involved a mix of medical knowledge and willpower. The Light was the strongest tool for healing a fellow Guardian, but medical understanding was still required to know how best to use that tool. Doran had moderate reserves of both, but the intense Fallen presence in the area had brought in too much of the Darkness to make things easy. On casual patrols one’s Ghost could bring any Guardian back even from death, but when and where the Darkness was too strong things became a lot more involved.
So the dragon gritted his teeth and focused, pouring his reserves of Light into his comrade and probing for the worst injuries so he could set about healing them. He only hoped Cody and Allen could hold the Fallen off for long enough.
Allen
Meanwhile, both Allen and Cody were making progress. Xyan had more or less leveled any fallen between him and the main platform they were using for a sniper nest, while Allen had climbed into the former fallen sniper position opposite of Xyan
A glimmer of movement behind Xyans position caught Allen’s attention as he checked in on his allies progress. “Cody, Watch your six!” The words were no sooner out of his mouth when Xyan pulled a one eighty, assault rifle leveled and unloading. The Fallen Vandals approaching him, normally cloaked under their light bending shields, fell back as the cloaks broke from the sustained fire of the AR.
While this was going on, Allen double jumped up to the sniper platform he was under, signalling Jake to swap his fusion rifle for a sniper rifle. The ghost quickly pulled out one of his favorites, a New Monarchy classic with arc charged rounds. Taking aim, he relayed to Xyan that two Fallen Captains blade wielders were on guard with the snipers. “On my go, rush them. I’ll snipe their shields off, and you ground pound them to the void!” He pulled the bolt back on his rifle and took two shots in quick succession.
As the Captains shields fell, Xyan Jet Packed up above the platform, hoping to maximize the damage his Fist of Havoc could do. At the apex of his jump, he charged up his arms, visible static arcing off his armor as he quickly plummeted, slamming his arms to the ground. The slam rocked the platform, and the arc shockwave electrocuted most of the Fallen, leaving two stunned and injured Captains. Quick with his weapon, four shotgun shells peppered the remaining two targets.
Allen scanned the area, noting the sudden lack of fallen skiffs. “Think they're done?” He asked the group. “I hope so.” Xyan replied, jetting over to him, “We’ve got our work cut out if they keep coming.
Allen nodded, and shouldered his rifle. “Right, regroup with Doran. I hope he’s made progress. If not, we can lend our light to help.” They both took off from the platform, heading back to Doran and Wilkins.
Doran
Doran was barely aware of the ongoing battle around him anymore. All of his focus was poured into healing Wilkins. He couldn’t waste time worrying over the Fallen; he had no choice but to trust Allen and Cody to keep him covered, and trust them he did.
The wolf needed all his attention. The dragon’s eyes were closed and his body relaxed, his mind sunk into a deep trance to try and channel every fragment of Light he had within him. Wilkins was in rough shape but he was alive, and Doran intended to keep him that way.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Doran located the worst injuries one by one and worked to heal them while balancing the wolf’s overall system; healing one injury too fast could cause an imbalance that would shock his system and make things even worse, so it was a delicate process. Under normal circumstances it went a lot faster, but the Darkness brought by so many Fallen muddled the process like working through a thick fog or trying to sew wearing heavy gloves. It could be done, but it took time and concentration. If he were being actively shot at it might not have been possible, but Allen and Xyan were giving him what he needed. The process was slow, but it was progressing. The wolf’s light was faint but beginning to burn more steadily.
Allen
Allen jumped and blinked back up to Xyan. “Just got word from the replacement team,” He said, shaking the blood and alien bits from his armor plating, “They’ve set up an FOB in orbit. If Doran says Wilkins is ready to move, we can relocate his ghost there and get him healed up quick.”
Allen smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for that,” He said, and offered a gloved hand. “Cody, I think you’ve earned the right to head up and take him to orbit. You’ve earned the respite from combat.” He then looked at Doran. “What’s his status?”
Doran
Doran sighed and leaned back, resting against the low wall he’d dragged Wilkins behind and taking a few breaths. “He’s still quite weak, and will probably be unconscious for a bit longer. But he’s stable. If that team in orbit can lend him a bit more of their light, he should recover smoothly from here on.” Behind his visor, he blinked and shook his head a bit, weary from the healing. “Thanks for keeping them off me, you two. Made the difference.”
Xyan’s shoulders heaved in a quiet sigh, relieved to hear the news about Wilkins. He then turned to Allen to answer him. “If you’re sure. Sounds like the replacement teams are on the way down, and the Fallen are backing off. If you and Doran can get on without me for a bit, I’ll transmat up with Korey and keep an eye on him.” He stared down at the unconscious wolf, keeping his emotions carefully guarded. After a moment he turned to Doran and gave him a brief nod. “Thanks for not letting the bastard die on me.”
Doran just returned the nod, recognizing the depth of emotion left unspoken. “Anytime, Cody. Just try to keep him out of trouble.” He gave a small grin, then stood up and stepped back a few paces. Xyan took his place beside Wilkins, and a moment later the two vanished in a transmat beam, transferred to one of the small frigates holding station in orbit above them.
Allen
Allen Sighed and watched the two go before giving a good nod to Doran. “Quick thinking on your part, man.” He said, shaking a bit at the close call. He then smiled weakly, saying, “Come on, we can’t exactly let the new replacements think we’re crappy caretakers. Let’s try to improve what we can before they get down here. Repair any damage we can and fortify it as well.”
Chapter 3: The Eternal Questions
Allen
Allen pulled the pin on a smoke flare, tossing it to the side of the fortress. Sweat beaded along his brow and fatigue hung to him like a beggar, but his still had to see the mission out. He felt a tap on his shoulder before Xyan joined him, looking at the replacement team flying in to let them get rest.
There was a moments pause before Allen said, “Does it ever get easy?”
Xyan blinked, as if waking from a trance. “Depends,” He rumbled, seeing the guardians phase onto the ground from their ships, “What do you mean?”
A gloved hand raised, he gestured out at the cleared expanse of the former battlefield. “Any of it? War, loss, anger, regret? Are we all damned, or are we just… waiting for the right time to come back?”
Xyan paused for a length of time, forming a good answer. But before he could speak, Doran stepped in. “I say we choose what we will for what we believe. And I believe what we make here, and now, is what decides whether there is hope for our future.” Allen chuckled, “Okay mister hopeful, thanks for that bit of insight. I was just asking cause, between the three of us, what’s really all this fighting worth if we just keep losing ground? We’re down to the Tower area, for all that we know. I just.. I just don’t want to fight a lost cause.”
Allen watched their ships fly in, and heard a chirp from his ghost. “Right, if everyone's ready, there is an extremely pissed wolf waiting for us in orbit. The tower officials took care of Wilkins, so we best not keep him waiting.”
He chuckled. “Well, what do you say guys? I’ve got a lot of fight left in me, and I’m not burning any less bright any time soon.” With that, Allen jumped off the tower, being transported mid jump so that he was gone before he hit the ground.
Doran
The blue dragon chuckled as Allen leapt from the building, shaking his head. “Guy knows how to make an exit. Shall we join him?”
Xyan eyed his fellow dragon, both of them having shed their helmets for the moment with the fighting seeming to have waned. “Did you really mean all that? Is that really what you believe, about how what we do now is what decides if there’s hope?”
Doran smiled softly, idly inspecting his helmet, brushing some dust from the metal plates and feeling the indentations of some new bullet dents with his gloved fingers. “It is. Laugh if you like, I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but it gives me purpose. And through purpose, strength. I have to believe we’re doing it for something, otherwise what else is there to drive us? Anger and revenge? They’ll burn bright enough for a while, but not long enough. Hope burns longer and much more steadily. What about you, Titan?”
Xyan gave a soft grunt, but softened the gruff noise with a small smile of his own. “I don’t know. For so long now I’ve just kept my head down and focused on getting from one kill to the next. Tried not to think any deeper than that. But… I might be ready to give it another shot.”
The Warlock grinned and straightened, giving a nod to his Ghost that they were ready to go. “All things considered, that sounds like a pretty good result.”
With that, the two dragons vanished into their own transmat beams, joining their comrades in orbit for the flight back to the Tower.
Allen
The tower was buzzing with chatter as the group flew back in. With Wilkins in the lead, and Allen bringing up the rear, he was almost mobbed by guardians who greeted them as they shifted into the tower commons. Wilkins, who still had bandages wrapped around his shoulder and chest, winked over at the stallion. “Hehe, guess news of your success got here fast.”
Allen Blinked, and replied in a shouting voice, “My Success!? Hell, you guys did twice as much as I did!” The group, on the shoulders of their allies in the tower, were more or less unceremoniously dumped at the steps while they took positions for a more formal celebration. The icing on the fictional cake came in the form of the speaker, walking out to the shock of the crowd. “Guardians,” came his old and soft voice, “You four have been causing quite a stir. From what I hear, you four took on a legion of fallen that would have given a fire team of twenty a nightmare of trouble. Your bravery and heroism is not overlooked by our leaders.”
Then, the Tower masters approached, each bearing an engram that gleamed pure golden yellow in the sun's rays. “Guardians. Your rewards. Take them To Master Rahul, your bravery and honor to the Traveller is more than payment enough.” As they spoke, they handed everyone in Allen and Dorans team an engram, before returning to their alcove.
Their departure was met with mass cheering and play, most guardians envy turning to mild joking at what they may get.
Doran
Doran’s eyes lit up at the promising golden gleam of the engrams, grinning widely. “Oooh… I’m eager to find out what this is.” He looked over at the kiosk that Master Rahul kept on behalf of the Cryptarchs across the crowded plaza, then shot his companions a mischievous grin. “Race ya?” he offered, shrugging his wings free of his heavy coat.
The other three all opened their mouths to answer the challenge, when a siren blared across the Tower plaza and the voice of the head Titan Vanguard, Commander Zavala, cut across the celebration. “All Guardians, this is an urgent call to arms. Multiple Fallen Ketches have emerged in low orbit directly above the Last City and are entering combat formations. This may be an attack on the Tower or the Traveller itself. All available Guardian's report to your ships immediately and ascend to orbit to engage the enemy.”
The four frowned and looked at each other, Doran refolding his wings and then gazing skyward. “Guess we’ll have to wait a bit longer to decode our new surprises.”
Allen
Allen was first to orbit, and quickly took stock of the situation. Three Ketches, with smaller drop ships acting as defense escorts. He grinned savagely, and as he saw the arriving guardians, gave himself a moment to think. Well, Doran, We’ve got guns and we’ve got brains. Lets see if we can make our own hope for a while. He broke from his thoughts as Jake notified that the rest of his fireteam entered orbit. He turned on his radio and gave a report.
“Incoming Fallen Ketches! All guardians in orbit, dip and dodge! We’re on this! For the light of the Traveler and the defense of the Tower!!!” Allen cut the channel and switched to the fireteam chat. “Okay, ready to get back into this?!” With all the excitement he felt, he then added, “If that’s a no, then let’s rock this!” He then switched on a song, and over the chat as his spaceship raced to the large enemy cruiser he sang,
“Now when I was just a little boy,
Standin’ on my daddies knee,
My poppa said, son, don’t let the man get ya’,
do what he done to me!...”
The End..?
