"We called it the Traveller. An A.I, a Machine, a God, in the end it mattered little what we...
(Destiny AU) Traveller's Light
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1: Death before Birth
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
"We called it the Traveller. An A.I, a Machine, a God, in the end it mattered little what we called it. When Mankind emerged from the darkest period of its history, the Third and Fourth World Wars of the 23rd century, we found it.
Or it found us, I know not. The space agencies of the time picked up massive energy signatures on the planet Mars, and a manned expedition was dispatched to investigate. Even before these brave pioneers gazed upon the great white sphere, they understood they'd found something special.
For it was raining on the red planet.
The Traveller gifted us with so many things, its knowledge, its technology...its Light. Human life spans quadrupled, and our ruined world was made green once more. With the discovery of warp, we spread beyond the confines of our Earth and orbiting space stations to every corner of Sol.
And the Traveller went with us, taking pleasure from watching us grow and walk among the stars. It made the hostile to all life Venus a garden paradise. Cities sprang up on Mars, on Luna, on every world we and the Traveller touched.
Mankind's future seemed brighter than any could have possibly imagined.
However, the Traveller had an enemy, an ancient evil that had followed it across the black void of space for eons, spreading slaughter and shadow. And after four hundred years it found us.
A Darkness with a name: The Hive.
Those who lived to build anew from the apocalypse they wrought upon us, would call it "the Collapse."
Only through the Traveller's sacrifice was the horror of the Darkness driven back. But before that moment of pure compassion for us, there was what seemed like an eternity of misery, suffering and cruelty at the hands of an enemy that knew neither mercy or pity."
XXX
Or it found us, I know not. The space agencies of the time picked up massive energy signatures on the planet Mars, and a manned expedition was dispatched to investigate. Even before these brave pioneers gazed upon the great white sphere, they understood they'd found something special.
For it was raining on the red planet.
The Traveller gifted us with so many things, its knowledge, its technology...its Light. Human life spans quadrupled, and our ruined world was made green once more. With the discovery of warp, we spread beyond the confines of our Earth and orbiting space stations to every corner of Sol.
And the Traveller went with us, taking pleasure from watching us grow and walk among the stars. It made the hostile to all life Venus a garden paradise. Cities sprang up on Mars, on Luna, on every world we and the Traveller touched.
Mankind's future seemed brighter than any could have possibly imagined.
However, the Traveller had an enemy, an ancient evil that had followed it across the black void of space for eons, spreading slaughter and shadow. And after four hundred years it found us.
A Darkness with a name: The Hive.
Those who lived to build anew from the apocalypse they wrought upon us, would call it "the Collapse."
Only through the Traveller's sacrifice was the horror of the Darkness driven back. But before that moment of pure compassion for us, there was what seemed like an eternity of misery, suffering and cruelty at the hands of an enemy that knew neither mercy or pity."
XXX
6th of December, 2680 AD, Greater Slavic Federation, Russia, Moscow Cosmodrome
The grey tarmac snaked through the snow-capped Russian landscape like a vast and fat serpent. Lamp posts, blazing car headlights and the twinkling stars themselves, high above in that sea of black, illuminated the seething mass of traffic both mechanical and human.
Up ahead was a massive grey slab of steel, a mighty bulwark against any attacker. Built to protect this place, the Wall now shielded those who passed through its open doors and military pickets. Beyond it, a vast stretch of open land, on which presided a gargantuan space port that now played host to hundreds of thousands of Refugee tents.
The Moscow Cosmodrome had once been a glorious beacon of the nation's prestige, now it was likely the Russian people's last sanctuary from the horror beyond the stars.
"Come on...come on..." The middle-aged man ran a hand through his hair as the beeping of car horns grew louder. His little car, a thirty-year-old Petrenko Primus, was his pride and joy. The boxy, ugly, cream vehicle had endeared itself to him beyond measure; this was fortunate, as it cost him a proverbial arm and a leg even all those years ago.
It was quite reflective of Humanity's inherent imperfection that in this Golden Age, there were still farmers who only just made ends meet, whilst many across Sol had lived the high life. All that however, was now at an end.
"Being grumpy with it isn't going to work." Anatoly Mendevev's wife scolded.
"It makes me feel better." He grumbled, beeping his horn again.
"Oh let him, mother. Everyone needs something to make them feel better these days." The young man cramped in the back added, tiredly yawning afterwards.
The woman who'd birthed him, Diana Mendevev, exchanged a knowing look with her husband.
"Says the twenty-year-old who complains whenever I make him do his ironing?" They chuckled at that, whilst their son, Dimitri, leaned back into his seat and rolled his eyes.
"I don't complain, I'm just busy with University work."
"Busy he says. As if he doesn't spend enough time on that game station or whatever-" Anatoly snorted, laughing slightly.
"It's not called a game station, father, it's a-"
"Oh zatk'nis, Dimitri. I know, I know-" The older man was saying before Diana cuffed him round the ears.
"Language!" She chastised.
Dimitri smiled bemusedly, all of this very much being in character for his parents. His mother was a small woman with intelligent emerald eyes, long chocolate brown hair and a soft and pointed face. She'd grown up as a socialite in Saint Petersburg then fell for his father, a bulky man heralding from the farms around Moscow who towered over his wife.
Anatoly was square faced, big nosed, and small eyed, a mop of greying black hair crowning his head. By god, his piercing blue eyes had terrified Dimitri enough when he was little, despite the fact he'd inherited them.
Yet the man was completely under Diana's foot; many was the time when Dimitri and Anatoly had to hide in their barn whilst she paced around shouting their names when they'd done something wrong. Occasionally if they were lucky, she would let them cower. Nowadays of course he knew his father, the man he got his hair and eyes from, to be a truly soft and kind person, the near opposite to his equally kind but iron-willed mother, from whom he'd got his nose.
As for his own face, Dimitri's was a mixture of his parents. Clearly masculine, yet soft and pointed like his mother's.
Their lives had been happy ones, before the apocalypse came down upon Humanity's head. The farm, their home, was likely being torched by unspeakable horrors from another world at that very moment.
There had been such excitement when the first crackling images from a satellite orbiting Pluto came back to the colonies and Earth, of strange black ships glowing a green light. A diplomatic envoy was sent immediately, approaching these vessels head on; they received only one transmission in a tongue that none understood, before they were obliterated.
At that moment, the Traveller, that which had brought their Golden Age, suddenly lifted off into the air and made for the outer reaches of the system. Many religions wailed about how, "judgement was upon them" but few listened. Even then…it was quite the shock for Mankind.
A battle group was soon dispatched, specifically the 2nd Martian fleet. They engaged the enemy vessels over Titan and despite sustaining heavy losses, they destroyed the foe.
As Humanity was soon to discover however, this was merely a scout fleet. Much larger groups of larger alien vessels soon appeared, the warp signature of something truly massive following them.
Across the alien comms, the word Oryx, Oryx, Oryx was chanted again and again, as if praising some all-powerful deity. And then ten thousand ships dropped out of warp directly on top of Mercury; the whole populace and all its defences were massacred in a day. At the heart of this armada was a vessel unlike any other yet seen. Estimates varied, but it appeared to be thousands of miles long at the very least.
Every defence, every world crumbled before this horde. Now, only a ring of iron made from battleships and orbital defence platforms stood between the aliens and Earth herself. The various governments of Man had ordered their peoples into vast bunkers in which they could ride out this storm. And it was to one of these, that Dimitri and his family were currently heading.
The traffic was ridiculous, being as thick and viscous as honey left in the cold. After two hours, tempers came close to boiling over.
"Ugh, can't they do this any more efficiently?" Anatoly growled, beeping his horn again and a tapping a finger on the steering wheel.
"These roads weren't built for this volume of traffic, dear. Accept it." Diana tried to keep the situation under control, even then she couldn't stop her jaw tightening. Suddenly, above the din of car horns and revving engines, another noise slowly rose from far away.
"What the..." Dimitri trailed off as he recognized it.
It was a siren.
Soon that shrill, synthetic shriek was joined by the dull thuds of heavy AA opening up on an incoming enemy. Eventually yet inexorably, people began to spill out of their cars as both on radio and loudspeakers a military sounding voice barked, "Leave your vehicles, enemy ships are en-route."
"How the hell...what on Earth is the fleet doing-" His words died in his mouth, when great burning hulks of battleships, destroyers, and carriers fell from the sky like macabre shooting stars.
"Blyat!" Dimitri hissed, ignoring his mother's chastisement and throwing the passenger door open. Chaos had enveloped the road ways as thousands of people scrambled over each other to reach safety, whilst some decided to risk off road in their cars.
From far away he could see two black ships glowing sickly green, closing on their position at an inhuman rate. The military would never be able to scramble jets in time to intercept them.
They won't get past the Wall though. He reassured himself. If they could just get past those defences, they'd be safe.
"We have to go, now!" He yelled desperately at his parents, who grasped the gravity of the situation quickly. They threw their doors open and began running with him, although as Dimitri was a young man he could effortlessly outpace them. He actually had to keep looking back, just to make sure they were still there.
The panicked screams of the vast crowd were drowned out by the ethereal shriek of alien engines, as from their sides, the black ships unleashed eight blasts of crackling purple energy. In that solid mass of people, there was no chance they could miss. Hundreds were vaporised by the impact, many more reduced to bloody mists by shrapnel.
Debris was scattered everywhere, and Dimitri barely avoided it by throwing himself to the ground. Slowly picking himself back up, the sobs of his mother caused him to freeze. Turning slowly around, his chest ached upon seeing Anatoly lie face down in the tarmac; the back part of his head...it wasn't there anymore.
Diana was weeping hysterically, trying to put her man's head back together in a futile display of grief. Her son had to snap himself out of his own inner numbness, as he barrelled back towards her, knowing full well she couldn't stay there.
The alien ships started dropping their troops; the screams of the innocent and the helpless grew ever louder. Mothers clutching their children in their arms hurtled past Dimitri whilst he frantically tried to push past the vast mass of humanity.
There was a cacophony of inhuman roars as the freshly landed unearthly monstrosities set upon their prey. All were skeletal in nature, but the smaller, paler ones were more numerous than their brethren who bore arcane fire arms. With claws and gnashing teeth, they shredded through the hapless herd, feasting on man, woman, and child.
What came behind them were slightly larger, gun wielding variants, with three hellish luminescent green eyes. A horrifying sight to behold in gangrenous armour that may well have been exo-skeleton, they unleashed a torrent of energy blasts, cutting down anyone in the way, including their own. What appeared to be their leader, who wielded a sword made more of bone than steel, whose helm was a pronounced three-pointed crest, dwarfed everything else.
He couldn't focus on that though; he could only fixate on the grunts of the enemy force closing on his mother. Instinctively as he ran, his fingers slipped around a shredded piece of metal from a car. It cut into his hand, but that was a positive in Dimitri's eyes.
It was sharp.
One of the skeletal creatures was upon the middle-aged woman now. She completely ignored it, so enraptured by grief that self-preservation didn't cross her mind. It jumped into the air, claws out stretched and ready to take the kill. That was until the upward slicing motion from Dimitri's "blade" cut its head apart vertically; its lifeless body snapped back and crashed into the ground.
The young man stood there for a moment, heart hammering, still comprehending what he'd done. The arrival of another enemy caused him to click back into action.
His mother could only look up in slight wonder as her son blocked the strike of another one of those skeletal, gnashing things, gashing his arm horribly in the process, before stabbing it in the face.
Two down, five quadrillion to go.
Satisfied the area was safe for the moment, Dimitri finally turned to the woman who carried him for nine months, arm covered in blood.
"Mother, we have to go." He choked up slightly, seeing his boisterous father lying so wrongly still.
"But I can't just leave him..." she whimpered, looking up at her son with puffy eyes.
"He'd want you to go."
Diana sat there for a few moments, shaking and breathing heavily before logic won through. Steadily getting to her feet, Dimitri soon clamped his hand around her wrist and sprinted, not letting go for a moment. There was not so much trouble now, as he was moving with the crowd instead of against it. It would be one hell of a run, but if they could keep up, keep moving, then perhaps they would reach safety after all.
XXX
A minute or so later, the leader of this alien band stopped and stared down at the two Thralls who lay dead, felled by the hands of a human.
How pathetic.
Nevertheless, there was a defiant and strong heart among that crowd. And as it was with all things in the universe, the strength of the Hive must break it before their own was broken, as according to the Sword Logic.
"Who did this?" The unproven Hive Knight boomed in its snarling tongue.
"One of the anathema's pets, my Lord. It went that way." An Acolyte pointed at the stampeding herd of disgustingly alive creatures.
"Do not interfere...it is mine." Sardon grinned, breaking into what his people deemed a, "brisk jog." One that could outstrip a sprinting cheetah with terrifying ease.
Prince Crota, may I gain a tasty morsel for your tribute this day!
All that stood in his way were simply slammed aside. Sardon smelt and sensed the world around him. Fear flooded his nostrils, much to his delight, the stench and taste of blood becoming elation.
Aiat, the glory of battle. The Sword Logic manifest...the sole truth of the universe...there. His rotting nostrils twitched.
A hundred metres ahead, he could smell, see and hear a young Human male who hauled along a middle-aged member of its kind. His arm and chest were smeared in the blood of Sardon's useless kin, a sharp piece of metal in his hand.
It stumped the ancient abomination, that this mere mortal had risen to the challenge and met with some success, whilst feeling less fear than those around him. Pondering what drove this Human to act the way he did, Sardon closed the gap, his blade scraping against the ground, increasing the intoxicating terror in the cattle around him.
It must be your mother. That is what drives you? Allow me to take it away...
XXX
He could feel Diana slowing down, her age catching up with her. Wheezing pants of, "just go on without me" were things he refused to heed. She was the only family he had left and Dimitri refused to lose it.
The screaming around him intensified as he felt the ground reverberate with the footsteps of something massive. He paid it no mind and increased his pace, only for his mother's grip to jolt back, her slicked with sweat wrist sliding off.
She's fallen, damn it!
He spun around. Time slowed to a crawl as his blue eyes bulged.
Diana was standing, her face frozen in surprise, fear and pain, a great blade of bone jammed through her chest. Sardon lifted her off the ground one armed; her trembling hands touched the tip of the blade that had taken her life. Gently, she lifted her gaze, fighting back the pain as she looked into her son's eyes, doing her best to reassure him.
"Run." She whispered. Then, with the mere flick of his wrist, Sardon flung Diana Mendevev through the air like a rag doll. She hit the ground hard, and rolled for a few moments until coming to rest on her back.
Lifeless green eyes gazing up at the stars.
Memories flooded into him, of bed time stories, hot chocolates in bed when the sun first poked through the window, of birthdays and Christmas, of scolding and reassurance. Dimitri's throat felt scratchy and his vision blurred, despair overcoming him.
Everything he knew was truly dead.
The hideous, three-metre-tall alien fixed its inhuman eyes on him, rotten teeth leering in triumph. Dimitri's lip pulled back into a snarl; howling in hatred, he charged, wielding his makeshift weapon with flailing rage.
He wasn't ready to die, but it was going to happen anyway. His whole family was gone. He had nothing now, yet he could use his life to buy time for those ahead of him. Soon, he would be with mother and father again, but first he'd put as many of these fucking foul things in the grave as possible-
The Hive Knight caught Dimitri's arm and plunged his blade through the twenty-year-old like a knife through butter. Blood cascaded from the Human's mouth as darkness enveloped his world, whilst Acolytes and Thralls surged past, making his sacrifice pointless.
I don't want to die.
The alien sneered at him and pushed the blade in deeper. Dimitri didn't have the energy left to scream, only cry.
I don't want to die.
It chattered and grunted in its strange language, sounding surprisingly impressed, before throwing the Russian straight into the side of a car.
"You are finer tribute than most, whelp, I shall give you that much." Sardon barked in the tongue of the Hive, then gestured as his servants. "He's all yours."
I don't want to die.
In a flash, the teeth of Thralls sank into the young man's flesh, ripping him apart piece by piece. And thus, Dimitri Mendevev went into his eternal sleep to the lullaby of his own death screams, the tearing of his muscle and skin, the splattering of his blood, and the crunching of his bones.
More tribute for the Worm Gods, another life for Oryx the Taken King.
Last edited:
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Brutal.
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
The Hive in a bloody nutshell.
Oh, and welcome aboard. Hope you enjoy yourself.
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Well this segment certainly is, but afterwards we're going into the future just a little bit...
This is a full on Alternate Universe. Hopefully that shall be to your satisfaction.
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yeah the pretty much complete lack of backstory in Destiny beyond the absolute vaguest of terms combined with the powers and tech of the Traveller do make it ripe for thee fanfiction plucking. Which makes me glad for this and eager to see where it goes.
- Location
- Florida
So since this is an AU where Humanity discovered 'The Traveler' later than canon, what was Humanities tech level pre-Traveler and pre-Fall?
Also why/how did Humanity fall so quickly in this verse? Where are the endless swarms of Killbots and Drone-ships? The extensive automated defenses (orbital and terrestrial installations)? Why were there so few fleets around?
And most importantly...how the FUCK did ORYX's fleet get into or for that matter, anywhere near Sol without being detected and drowned in a swarm of antimatter missiles (and other more exotic weaponry) in numbers to block out the stars?
I hope you don't mind answering my questions since it appears IC that Humanity went full pacifist in regards to disarment.
Also why/how did Humanity fall so quickly in this verse? Where are the endless swarms of Killbots and Drone-ships? The extensive automated defenses (orbital and terrestrial installations)? Why were there so few fleets around?
And most importantly...how the FUCK did ORYX's fleet get into or for that matter, anywhere near Sol without being detected and drowned in a swarm of antimatter missiles (and other more exotic weaponry) in numbers to block out the stars?
I hope you don't mind answering my questions since it appears IC that Humanity went full pacifist in regards to disarment.
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Well the technology of humanity "Pre-Fall" is more akin to slightly more advanced UNSC tech. Exceedingly advanced, quite powerful, and more than capable of defending their territory from civilized threats...
Unfortunately, it's just, when ten thousand plus ships drop in on you, powered by and wielding energy you don't fucking understand, crewed by god damn magical insect space nazi zombies, whilst being led by their Eldritch Dark God who can literally "Take entire worlds" and unleash all sorts of unholy fuckery from one of the largest and most powerful warships in science fiction, you're going to have a bad experience.
Unfortunately, it's just, when ten thousand plus ships drop in on you, powered by and wielding energy you don't fucking understand, crewed by god damn magical insect space nazi zombies, whilst being led by their Eldritch Dark God who can literally "Take entire worlds" and unleash all sorts of unholy fuckery from one of the largest and most powerful warships in science fiction, you're going to have a bad experience.
- Location
- Florida
So...are we talking 'Realistic' Halo (lol) or post Covenant War UNSC tech wise with pre war numbers?
...Ah. Well in that case, no wonder Humanity fell so quickly.
But can we please at least see the scale of the battles during the Fall? I want to see massive numbers of drone ships controlled by massively powerful crewed ships fighting and dying by the hundreds to thousands for every Hive ship taken out.
Massive ground battles basically being Supcom-lite versus the 'god damn magical insect space nazi zombies' and there dark god. Maybe have some battles between the elite of of Oryxes forces and the transhuman/posthuman super soldiers Humanity has at it's disposal.
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Yes, we are talking about the better Halo (343 never happened.) Perhaps with one or two elements of Covenant technology thrown in (some energy weapons and personal shields.)
Trouble with that is, whilst I am going to explain stuff about the Collapse, I'd like to keep it a tad bit mysterious. It then gives off this feeling of "unspeakably horrific." Thing is, when one tries to show such conflicts, it can often be underwhelming and that is something I want to avoid. I do not believe my writing skills to be up to snuff to depict this war, so I'll have to let you down there I'm afraid.
- Location
- Florida
So...to keep this thread going, will you add any references/expies from other franchises/settings?
Such as other races/civilizations? Unique tech/individuals? Meta-conceptual shenanigans?
Such as other races/civilizations? Unique tech/individuals? Meta-conceptual shenanigans?
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Perhaps one or two, but nothing hugely crossoverish.
Worry not, the second chapter is well on its way, just doing some editing at the moment.
2: Through an Ancient Grave
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
It had been an age since the fall of old human civilization, this rusting graveyard being one of the last remnants of that distant time. Over the snow covered, decrepit roads, through the icy air, a strange little machine flew. A single blue eye set in a white, angular and complex metal body, scanned everything. It hovered a metre or so off ground level, sweeping the surface with an electric blue light, combing over rusted cars and dirty, battered, ancient skeletons.
To an outsider's perspective, the Ghost seemed almost mournful with how it carried out its strange task. Surveying the grizzly remains of innocents butchered for no crime was a large reason for this behaviour, yet a more selfish desire was mixed in. For this was a lonely construct, having carried out a search that had lasted hundreds of years. Across the solar system it had looked, on every world, station, moon, or asteroid. Now, here on Earth where it was born, it was on the verge of giving up. Consumed by melancholy, it continued to hover over the road…until…
It passed over a body slumped against an ancient vehicle. With its rib cage torn open and bone crushed the skeleton was a ruinous mess. Upon it however, the little Machine's gaze froze. It closed the distance and almost touched the clean skull.
"Is it…possible?" Its electronic voice, one ill experienced yet kind, whispered.
It carried out another scan, touching at the last moments of this individual's life through the Light. Grief, rage, terror, sadness, all were present. Yet there was bravery, a heroic deed carried out without any thought of reward or fame. Bravery and sacrifice...the very core of what made a Guardian.
"I..I've found you!" The little machine sang with joy, splitting apart and unleashing a blinding flash of white light.
Someone else was watching the display, though. Searing, glowing blue eyes, four in number, narrowed into slits. The inhuman mandibles of the Fallen Vandal, an alien so far from home, scrunched into a snarl. Standing up, its ragged red cloak billowed in the wind. The four-armed creature, covered in bone like armour, chattered furiously into its inbuilt radio communications.
"A Wolf-thief has awakened. Let us bring its head to the Archon."
Dozens of other alien voices savagely responded in their strange tongue immediately. The forces of the House of Devils converged on the area with gusto, to snuff out the newly risen Wolf-thief. One of the vile robbers that stole the Great Machine.
"Eyes up, Guardian." The voice rang like steel through Dimitri's ears.
"Wha..." Shakily he managed to stand up, his muscles feeling as if they were on fire. Directly in front of him hovered a strange machine, its one glowing blue eye fixed on him. Around it was a landscape of ruin, where the last act of his life had played out long ago. Now however, it was a winter day, snow being a thick white blanket upon the graves of thousands.
"This might sound strange...but you've sort of been dead for a very long time." The machine sounded strangely sympathetic.
"Where...am I? What are you?" He croaked, his voice and being feeling so weak. Where he in a normal frame of body and mind, Dimitri would have momentarily been unnerved by the machine. Yet it seemed on an almost instinctual level that he shouldn't be afraid of it.
"I'm a Ghost, I've brought you back from the dead. You're in the same place that you died." It put, bluntly.
"Died? What are you talking about..." The memories cascaded back into him like a roaring tidal wave. The Solar System burning, the screams of billions, the terrible horde that ended everything, they all flashed before his eyes.
"I...died?" Dimitri whispered.
"Yes..." The Ghost said awkwardly. It flicked its gaze up when an inhuman roar in the distance caught its attention. "Look, I'll explain what I can to you in a moment, but right now we have to move." It suddenly fazed out of existence, leaving Dimitri standing there.
"No! Please don't leave me!" He barely held back a scream, feverishly remembering the blade sliding through his ribcage.
"Don't worry, I'm still with you. I'll show you where to go." Its voice echoed from within his mind, impossibly clear as day. A symbol flickered into existence on his helmet's hud, a single white diamond hovering over a rusting entrance in the distant wall, a waypoint.
"How are you...uh, do I go towards that?" Dimitri said, exasperated, just wishing to know what in God's name was going on.
"In short...yes." Said the Ghost.
"But how are you-" More shrieks and roars echoed in the distance. Dimitri hesitated for only a moment, then ran.
He'd reached a cat walk going over the long defunct power generators, when his Ghost spoke up.
"Stop."
"Why?" Dimitri whispered, recognizing the urgency in its voice.
"They're right above us."
He wondered what it meant, until scraping and feet slamming against the floor echoed above him. His blood turned colder than the ice of Pluto, as he imagined rotten teeth tearing into his flesh.
"Talk to me with your mind. They might actually be close enough to hear us." The machine said.
How the hell do I do that? Dimitri pondered, staying as quiet as possible.
"Just like that."
His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish before he decided to just accept how strange today was. He'd been brutally murdered by space zombies after all, so this shouldn't be too hard to wrap his head around.
What are they?
"They're called Fallen. They are here to kill you, to take your Light."
My Light? His eyebrows knitted together. The Light was an energy source that powered everything, not something found in people. Or at least he thought.
"I'm sorry...I keep forgetting you're new to this. I will explain soon, when we get out of here."
Dimitri forced down his innumerable questions and remained stationary.
"Move forward...slowly..."
He did as he was told, thankfully not being jumped upon by some horrendous creature from another world. Soon they arrived at a large locked door surrounded by darkness, with only a few shafts of light stabbing through the ruined roof.
I can't see a thing.
"Hold on. I'll try and do something about that." The Ghost reappeared in a flash, flying off to the corner of the vast room. Great metal pipes led up to the ceiling, clearly being a part of however power flowed through the complex. They'd probably not had a flicker of electricity in them for however long he'd been dead…
The idea that he'd been torn to shreds and yet stood here now was a near impossible one. In fact, a little part of him was certain he'd wake up back home soon. Those glowing green eyes and those leering, rotting teeth however...they were too real to be a dream. Dimitri had died and did so horrifically, no amount of wishful thinking would change that.
It hurt. My God, it hurt so much. I've never been that scared before...never been so cold.
"There's nothing wrong with being afraid of death. Any rational creature would feel exactly the same as you...Aha! That should do it!" The Ghost telepathically whistled cheerfully, switching the great lamps on.
Can you hear everything I think?
"If you don't want me to, just let me know-" The sudden illumination revealed dozens of Fallen Dregs staring at them both. For a moment the Ghost stared back, not a metre away from them, then flashed away.
"Door's open, run!" It cried from within his head.
The door mercifully slid open and Dimitri barrelled through it, like a fox pursued by hounds. He desperately tried to block out the alien shrieks, knowing deep down they were calling for his death.
"Thief, thief! Kill the thief!" A Dreg roared in its tongue.
"You wish to chase down one of the Wolf-thieves? You be my guest." Another, more experienced one chastised.
"Irrelevant. Bring me the Guardian's head!" The gravelly, booming voice of Riksis, Archon of the House of Devils, ripped through their comms. Knowing the wrath of the much larger and stronger Fallen, the Dregs obliged.
But when he reached another corridor, one darker than any of the others, he stopped. Blood red beams crisscrossed it from top to bottom, barring his way. The ominous red blob on his motion tracker however, sent a chill cascading down his spine. Out of sight, at the other end of the corridor, was a group of hostiles.
"We have to fight..." His Ghost sounded nervous.
Dimitri hid round the edge of the corridor, slumping to the ground, breathing heavily. The young Guardian desperately fought to keep it under control, but to no avail.
"I can't do it." He said miserably. Distant feelings of his bones crunching came to mind. The agony, then the eternity of nothingness, threatened to utterly overwhelm him.
"Yes, you can. You're a Guardian of the Traveller's Light, besting the forces of Darkness is what you're best at. And you aren't alone." There was a flickering of light, then something metal nudged his shoulder. Dimitri met the gaze of his Ghost who hovered a hair's breadth from his face. "I'm your Ghost, I will always guide you."
"But how do I even fight? If I got close enough I could punch them I guess but...I won't get that close." He shook his head, having no faith in himself.
"Yes. You need a weapon..." The small machine flew off into a corner and scanned what appeared to be a long-rusted Auto-Rifle. After a few moments, the Ghost stopped then looked back at him. "A Khvostov 7G-0X. Excellent rifle for its day, and not at all useless by modern standards."
"Do you want me to pick that up?" He tilted his head.
"...you need a weapon."
"I...oh, chyort, sorry." Dimitri muttered, scrambling over to the weapon that might just save his life. Picking it up he was surprised by how light it was.
"Can you shoot?" The Ghost asked.
"Of course not." He hissed.
"...Well...there's a first time for everything." It flashed back into his mind. Gritting his teeth, Dimitri slowly poked his head around the corner, trying to see whatever was making that red blob on his motion tracker. Meeting with no luck on that front, he focused on the crisscrossing red beams.
"What are those?" He asked. All pretence of stealth was gone, the Fallen knew where he was. There was no need to stay quiet.
"They're the Fallen equivalent of trip mines. The red light acts as a sensor, and when it's triggered-"
"It explodes, got it." Steadily dropping to one knee, he levelled his rifle. Dimitri drew air into his lungs to balance his aim, then pulled the trigger. The rounds hit the metal cylinder that was projecting the trip wire, detonating the mine. He rolled back around the corner, the explosion and shrapnel detonating the rest.
"You could've just slipped underneath them, you know."
"They already know we're here. At least this way they can't use those mines again."
"Fair enough. Although that's probably got the attention of half the Fallen in the Wall."
"If that's the case, God they're sluggish at responding."
"They want some good sport. Why bring a fun hunt to an end so quickly?"
Dimitri grimaced, feeling a little sick inside at the idea of being big game to these creatures. Weirdly enough though, he didn't feel as afraid of them as the rotting thing that killed him that long age ago. These "Fallen" seemed perfectly alive and that comforted him. The living could be brought down much more easily than the undead.
With the mines all detonated, ripping the corridor to shreds, he ran forward with auto-rifle held tightly to him. His eyes warily scanned ahead for any sign of shifting shadow or weapon discharge.
"How far is the exit?" Sweat, produced by tension, trickled down the back of Dimitri's neck.
"About one and a half kilometres, not much further-"
An air vent dropped from the ceiling, followed by a creature with glowing blue eyes. The first Fallen Dreg Dimitri had ever seen up close was a small yet somehow menacing creature. Fur jutted out in some sort of crest from its head, the rest of its body being alarmingly exposed. Wielding a crackling knife and shock pistol, this was the foot soldier of a remnant's shadow.
"Kill the Wolf-thief!" It barked in a tongue he didn't know but understood the intent, and opened fire. Arc energy bolts surged towards him, causing Dimitri to freeze like a dear in the headlights and wince as they hit home. He expected death, only to see red flash on his hud along with a slim blue bar at the top of it decreasing slightly.
"What are you waiting for!? Shoot them!" His Ghost's panic shook him out of his dazed state.
Another four Dregs dropped behind their braver comrade, equally as ferocious. Dimitri's Khvostov snapped up and spat flam. Unused to firearms, the recoil kicked his aim up, but the range was too close to miss. Supernaturally enhanced rounds tore through the lead Dreg, spattering alien blood, bone and brain, everywhere. Its comrades howled in rage and thundering towards him with knives swishing and pistols hissing. They wanted this to be up close and personal.
...I'll oblige them. Dimitri scowled with unusual resolve, and threw himself at the Fallen. His shoulder connected with the lead one, the force reducing it to a bloody smear. Whilst doing that, he held his Auto-Rifle out and fired, ripping apart two more Fallen to his left. The one at the very rear stopped in its tracks and tried to futilely back away.
Dimitri propelled himself at the last Dreg. His Khvostov flickered out of existence in a shimmer of light, but not at all to his dismay. For the desire to pulverise this beast up close and personal, had overcome him.
You mess with my day, and I'll mess with yours, piz'da!
Barely noticing his fist glow a luminescent, brilliant blue, he thrust it into the Dreg's genetically engineered face. The alien's head crumpled from the impact, snapping its entire body back and flinging it across the corridor. The Dreg disintegrated into flakes of light before it touched the ground again.
He stood there, savagely grinning, until he looked around at the bloodied and broken remains of his enemies. Gore and a horrid stench plagued Dimitri's senses, his breath quickening as a result.
"My God..." Dimitri looked at his trembling hands, struggling to believe what he'd done. With strength like this he might have stood a chance at saving his parents, however long ago it was. On top of that...he'd just snuffed out five lives as if they were nothing...
"It was them or you...that's how this works." His Ghost unhelpfully offered.
"I know, it's just..." Those glowing blue eyes, those frantic glowing blue eyes, stabbed at his heart. "Do they have names? Feelings?"
"...yes." The Ghost said, sadly.
Chyort
The little machine was right though. He had to move on, it was really them or him.
Racing through the crumbling and rusting corridors of the wall, Dimitri outstripped the pursuing Fallen. Jumping across vast caverns and gaps made by the passage of time, he marvelled at his strength and his power. His very veins pumped with adrenaline and the power of the Light.
"You are a Guardian. The might of the Traveller's Light courses through you. There are few mortal foes who could even hope of standing against you."
"Well...I guess I'll thank it if I live through this."
On his radar, a big red blob, much larger than the previous one, appeared. Right by the exit...
"Oh come on...that's not fair." His Ghost huffed, eliciting a chuckle from his Guardian. "What?"
"Life isn't fair. I didn't think machines could get upset about that." Dimitri's lips lifted into a slight smile.
"I'm an A.I. I think and feel just as much as you do. After all, what are you but a machine of flesh and blood?"
"...fair point."
Dimitri slowed his pace, but pushed on nonetheless. Eventually, he arrived at a catwalk which overlooked a large room. This was once where fresh ammunition was brought in and offloaded. Sunlight filled it, stabbing through long broken windows and empty doorways. It lifted his spirits beyond reason.
They soon dropped again, however, upon sighting what stood between him and the sun's gentle touch. An entire platoon of Fallen were traipsing through his escape route.
...Ghost...what do I call you? He asked telepathically, midway through his more tactical question. The young man inwardly chastised himself for never even asking his guide and saviour's name.
"I have no name." It murmured.
What?
"I have no name. The Traveller gave me life, everything else I must find for myself."
Oh...okay...what am I looking at? Dimitri directed at the force in front of him.
"Damn, a proper Fallen scouting force. They really want you dead."
How many?
"Ten Dregs...the small ones. Those two medium sized ones are called Vandals, they're a bit like low rank officers crossed with snipers. And that really big one is called a Captain. He has an energy shield…be careful of him."
Alright. What do you think I should do? He looked down upon the variously sized Fallen. The Dregs he was familiar with, but the Vandals…they were about his size and had proper armour. Bony faceplates/breathers, helms and long cloaks distinguished them, along with those wicked looking wire rifles.
And the Captain…the three-metre-tall magnificent monster took his breath away. The creature held itself with pride and strength, its massive weapon held professionally in its hands. In appearance it was like a Vandal except larger, its helm having more horns and spikes.
"I'd recommend throwing a grenade to scatter those Dregs, then pick off the Vandals with your rifle. After that, mop up the remaining Dregs, then focus all your attention on the Captain. You'll need to." His Ghost cut into his moment of thought.
...grenades?
"...I did tell you about grenades, right?"
No.
"Ah...sorry..."
He didn't have the heart to feel angry with it, that voice sounded so helpless and innocent. In many ways, he and it were quite similar. An icon flashed up in the corner of his hud, one that resembled a frag grenade. His rifle flashed away, to be replaced by said grenade.
"Are we ready?" His Ghost sounded nervous.
No.
"That's makes two of us."
Quietly as possible, Dimitri pulled the pin and threw it as hard as he could over the catwalk. A few Dregs caught sight of it rolling into their midst. Their minds blanked for a few crucial moments, realising danger where they saw it.
"Grenade!" A Vandal screeched, throwing itself out of the blast radius before the crump of a detonation rolled across the room. Three Dregs were ripped to shreds, and two more were blasted off their feet by the shock wave. With the Dregs disorientated, the Vandals and the Captain frantically looked around for their mysterious attacker
His rifle re-materialised and Dimitri brought it to bear on them. Letting off a quick burst, one Vandal's head was torn apart. Switching his aim, Dimitri struck the other in the chest. Said unfortunate Fallen had managed to let off a shot but it missed him by more than a metre.
He ducked back down to avoid returning fire, preparing to move again. The Captain was having none of that though. Enraged at the slaughter of his kin he raised his scorch cannon and unleashed its power.
Dimitri's plan evaporated along with the catwalk. He tumbled down onto the ground, having to throw himself clear of debris. On instinct, enhanced by the Traveller's grace, he pushed forward, scorch shots and shock bolts whizzing past him. Some hit and dented his shields slightly but it was not much of a problem. Ducking behind a rusting van, he tried to think for a few moments, casting a glance at the open and full of sunlight doorway.
"They'd cut you down. We're going to have to fight this out." His Ghost observed, grimly.
Chyort...how the hell did that go so well anyway? I'm not a soldier.
"Two words. Traveller's. Grace."
...so...magic?
"How about we talk about this after you deal with the vicious aliens that want us dead!" Irritation seeped into that mechanical tone.
It was right of course, this would be a stand-up fight. Leaning out from behind cover, he let off a good burst at the Captain, doing about as much good as throwing a tennis ball at a tank.
Piz'det! Dimitri ran again, only just avoiding the van being blown across the room by the Fallen Captain's wrath. Dozens of shock bolts followed momentarily, hissing with lethal vehemence.
"You will die here!" The massive alien roared, its people's equivalent of a rapid-fire bazooka barking away.
We've got to bring him down!
"Agreed!"
How the fuck do we do that!?
"Umm..."
Umm is not going to cut it!
"Take out the other Dregs first. Then you can bring down the Captain."
He rolled beneath another three blasts from the Scorch Cannon, the wall behind him being reduced to ash and rubble. Then mercifully, there was the sound of an empty weapon clicking and alien grumblings of frustration.
In that precious moment, Dimitri stood his ground and opened fire on the Dregs. Much of their returning fire hit him, knocking his shields down to thirty percent. But with the rifle's every burst, a Dreg fell. By the time the Captain had reloaded, all his subordinates were dead.
"Attention! I have engaged the thief, my squad is down, I need back up!" He growled into his comms.
"Recieved and understood. Hold it there until my arrival." Baron Gildeks, a Lord of the House of Devils, boomed into his earpiece. The larger and much more powerful alien had everything to gain by bringing the Great Machine's pet to his master. Archon Riksis was not the highest-ranking member of the House, but he was second only to Aksis and Sepiks Prime themselves. Gaining his favour, the favour of he which the thieves had named "Skull taker", would get the Baron far. After all, Archon Gildeks certainly had a ring to it.
The Captain reloaded his weapon and continued firing, tearing apart ancient vehicles and walls long having lost their structural integrity. Fortunately for Dimitri it seemed he was faster than his foe's arc of fire. He couldn't do this at range, he'd have to get close and...
"Your plan is to punch this thing to death?" His Ghost said, sardonically.
Yes!
"That's...really quite simple..."
But effective!
Quickly closing the gap, Dimitri flung himself at his enemy, his fist glowing that strange blue. He struck the Fallen's shields with all his might, ripping them away in a heartbeat and flinging the alien into one of the lorries it had ruined. Whilst still marvelling at his own strength, Dimitri levelled his rifle and emptied a clip of ammunition into the crumpled Fallen, screaming in frustration.
With its chest ripped open, armour, blood, and bone mashed together, he reckoned it was dead. As he'd done before, Dimitri looked around at the surrounding carnage…and felt sick. He'd just slaughtered thirteen aliens and he wasn't even sweating.
What the hell am I?
"You're a Guardian."
I know...but...doesn't that mean I should protect? Not...this... He scanned across that vast room, at all the individuals he'd cut down without a second thought.
I'll always be doing this...won't I?
"Yes...but all this protects the Last City...protects mankind. When you get there, you'll understand why this has to be done." The Ghost offered, not sounding entirely convinced itself.
Dimitri frowned but didn't respond.
Trade ships would return from the colonies, bringing various and exotic items back with them. The flowers of Venus, the iron of Mars, all flowed through the markets of Earth, to name just a few. An "age of wonders" didn't do that time justice.
It had been a life mission of his to visit the Cosmodrome. Not to board any of those ships, but to simply watch them take off with his own eyes. Now Dimitri was here...he felt sad. Rusted ruins, collapsed ancient ships, skeletons, and deathly silence were all that remained of the Golden Age. His age.
"How long has it been like this?" He said aloud, not having to fear Fallen hiding around the corner. His Ghost did the same.
"A thousand to two thousand years...we're not sure." Having popped into existence, its own blue eye flickered over the landscape with some melancholy. "You'll be wanting to keep heading east. We've got a long journey ahead of us, but it shouldn't be too hard once we're out of here. Devil territory doesn't stretch much further… Hmph, Fallen don't stray far past here. Not after what the Iron Lords did to them."
"How far are we talking?" Dimitri asked, putting his questions about these "Iron Lords" away for later, his feet crunching in the snow. What a wonderful noise it was, one that generated memories of childhood and playing with friends.
"As in, Himalayas."
"What?" His mouth fell open.
"The Himalayas. That's where the Last City is. Don't worry, for you this would be like a hiking trip over some mildly steep hills."
"But that's...that's got be thousands of miles..."
"Yes. And?"
Dimitri grimaced. Long walks were not to his taste, especially with his mother hauling him around the national parks of Russia whenever she could. Anatoly and Diana Mendevev had always been ones for the outdoors, despite his protestations. His soul twisted in grief at remembering those happy days, of his parents smiling.
Trying to take his mind off the matter, Dimitri looked upwards, appreciating the bright sun and blue sky. Alas, he could not feel Sol's warmth, clad in strange armour as he was. The unusual phenomena of the Moon crossing the sky during day time caught his attention. What he saw upon closer inspection, though, caused him to stop in his tracks.
Luna, that constant beautiful pearl of the night's sky, was scarred. It seemed as if a giant claw had torn it asunder. Vast chunks of debris were only just being kept from floating off into the stars by its gravity. That, and a sickly, all too familiar green energy.
"What in God's name..." There was a sour taste in his mouth, and Dimitri felt like curling into a little ball. The Ghost flickered its gaze upon its Guardian, then looked upwards.
"The work of the Hive Prince Crota. There was a battle long ago, about two thousand Guardians died up there. I watched it...I...I..." It trailed off, unable to put its thoughts into words. Something that should not have been possible for a "machine." Evidently what it saw must have been horror beyond imagination. Such was war.
"Hive?" He looked it dead in the eye, ignoring the slight tingle in his spine the name "Crota" provoked. There was no time for the Ghost to reply, as a shrieking noise tore across the Cosmodrome. Four insect like ships shifted into existence. From their bowels, dozens of Fallen descended, one of them larger than any living creature Dimitri had seen before.
"Get to cover, now." His Ghost hissed. Dimitri obliged in a heartbeat, diving into one of the many buildings scattered around this place.
What's the problem? He switched back to talking through the mind.
"A Baron...a Baron...here? Traveller give us strength." Fear seeped into that mechanical voice.
A Baron? Is that what that big thing is?
"Yes. One of the highest ranking Fallen on Earth."
Can't we take it?
"No, this is completely out of our league. Just look."
Dimitri peeked through a long-smashed window, feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. There had to be no less than fifty Fallen sweeping the area. And their leader was twice the size of the Captain he'd just fought. Shrinking back into cover, Dimitri breathed slowly to calm himself, to think.
Chyort...now what?
"We have to send up an SOS signal. Pray some other Guardians aren't too far away-"
Why don't we just stay here and let them pass through?
"Don't you listen? They are here for you! They want to kill you! They know you are here, they will burn this entire complex for you." The little machine's voice rang through Dimitri's head like great church bells. "I'm...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to-"
It's okay. We all get angry. He tried to calm it down.
"I've wandered the system for three hundred years to find you. I...I don't want to lose you now."
You looked for me? Both of Dimitri's eyebrows rose, wondering why it had spent so long looking for a nobody like him. The machine sounded like it wanted to say more, then stopped itself.
"If we get out of here, I'll explain. I need a bit of time to send up that signal, but that'll go out across every frequency. The Fallen will swarm us, ready your weapon."
Oh god...I just want this to end. Dimitri clutched his Khvostov tightly. He had to fight again, and this time his enemy had the sheer power to overwhelm him. After a few moments, the Fallen Baron and his Captains barked orders in their strange tongue. Their subordinates stormed towards the building in which he hid.
"Signal's up, they know we're here." The Ghost grimly informed.
He slowly levelled his weapon at the door, knowing it would burst open any second. The iron door was ripped off its hinges by shock grenades and three Dregs charged through. Dimitri opened fire, three short bursts putting down some of the most unformidable creatures in the Solar system. Those behind them shrieked in anger, but their commander, Baron Gildeks, produced a few chirps of satisfaction.
"Bring me my quarry. Bring me the Wolf-thief's head!"
"Yes, Baron!"
Dimitri had to back away from the door, having shot down another four Dregs. Vandals were peppering his approximate position with shock bolts, forcing him out of his defensive position. His shields were knocked down to seventy-five percent, a testament to the fact Fallen could shoot, and shoot well.
"Anything!?" He called out, tossing a grenade at a group of Vandals which were advancing through the corridor. There was a crump, soon followed by the sickening splatter of gore.
"Someone would have heard us...someone must have heard us..." The Ghost sounded like it was trying to reassure itself.
"We need an escape plan!" Dimitri nervously checked his ammunition, and the red blob which had surrounded him on his motion tracker. He'd bitten his cheek so hard, he could taste blood.
"We're surrounded. We've got nowhere to go..."
The realisation there was no surviving this hit him harder than that blade of bone did long ago. Whipping around a corner, he found his legs giving out on him. Even with all this power, Dimitri was still utterly helpless. Collapsing to the floor, he leaned against the wall and frantically fought back the tears.
"This...this is it...isn't it?"
"No, of course not-"
"Don't lie to me."
The Ghost said nothing for a while, as shock bolts sliced through the wall just ahead of them. A Ghost could resurrect a Guardian many times over, but it was a vulnerable life form. It could be destroyed with effortless ease before it could return its partner from the dead. After so many centuries, it had found its Guardian, only to have him ripped away almost instantly.
"I'm so sorry...I failed you." The little machine sounded like it was barely choking back electronic sobs.
"No. You did just fine." Dimitri closed his eyes and felt moisture trickle down his cheek. He could remember it, that sense of nothingness which would reclaim him soon enough.
I don't want to die.
A loud shot crashed out. Dimitri opened his eyes, finding he hadn't been hit.
"What the…" His nose wrinkled.
More rolling thuds echoed across the Cosmodrome, as Fallen heads exploded into gore. There was a cacophony of roars, this time not as ferocious, but more confused and disorganized. They were being scattered, attacked by an unknown party.
"Another Guardian! Thank the Traveller..." His Ghost sang in joy and relief.
It was projectile weaponry, heavy projectile weaponry. Dimitri could not tell it was a sniper rifle, but merely from the heaviness of the thud he guessed it had insane penetration power. Standing up, he charged around the corner and back into the main corridor. Seven Fallen stood there, barking into their comms for an update on the situation.
Although his eyes were still wet, Dimitri's Khvostov belched fire, his fist glowing that unearthly blue. It would have been no contest even if the aliens had time to respond. Their covering fire was being slaughtered, their commanders picked off, and a Baron's screams was tearing through their ears.
"What are you fools doing? There is only two of them!?"
"Two of them is enough, Baron. I'd recommend withdrawing..." A Captain immediately hailed his skiff, which returned with haste. His Fallen re-embarked as quickly as possible, then their ship pulled away to safety.
My Eliksni die for his ambition? By the Great Machine what madness...The alien officer shook his head and sighed with disdain.
A Vandal, paralysed by fear, was desperately trying to keep its head down. It prayed to the Great Machine that he would spared the wrath of the Wolf-thieves. A powerful hand grasped his shoulder, forcing him to look upwards at the furious Baron.
"Get up! There's only two, now kill them-" His shield popped out when the unseen attacker's first round struck him square in the head. Gildeks only had time to wonder what was happening before his head "popped" too.
This was the last straw for the Fallen of the House of Devils. Twenty-eight dead along with their Baron, sandwiched between two Guardians, they made the only logical choice.
The skiffs warping away was the most reassuring and relieving sound Dimitri had yet heard in his life. He walked out of his temporary "stronghold" and into the sunlight of the Russian winter. Around him there was carnage. He'd only brought down several Fallen, his mysterious saviour had wiped out more than twice as many. Every single corpse on the snowy ground had heads reduced to blue pulps.
"A Hunter." His Ghost said to itself.
"A what?" Dimitri tilted his head.
"A Hunter. There's only one class of Guardian which shoots that straight. I've heard stories of them wandering around the Cosmodrome but I never expected..."
He struck out into the killing ground, awed by the precision of the butchery. His armoured boots kept crunching in the snow, eliciting yet more fond childhood memories. It did him good to take his mind off the slaughter and just how many times he'd come close to death that day.
"So...where now?" He blinked heavily, as if waking from a dream.
"We stay put for a little while, see if our new friend passes by."
"Alright...huh?" Dimitri's rifle snapped upwards, hearing what sounded like an electronic whine in the distance coming closer.
"Ah, here they come."
"What's making that noise?"
"Oh...it's called a Sparrow. They're like...bikes." The Ghost struggled to give a description his Guardian would understand.
"Bikes?"
"Ones that fly...and are powered by Light..."
"That's nothing like a bike." Dimitri clenched his jaw.
"I'm trying!"
Sure enough, the long angular vehicle and its rider came into view a few moments later. The S-22 Nomad as it was known, was a favoured vehicle of the Hunters. Fast and manoeuvrable, it could take any Guardian to wherever they wanted very quickly. Unfortunately, like the rest of the "Nomad" series, it lacked any real armour and shielding. Hunters did not care of course. If the enemy couldn't hit you, then it didn't matter how little protection you had.
The Sparrow stopped ten metres from him, its rider getting off it with practised elegance. Their long cloak billowed in the wind.
"Hello there. You look like you're lost." The cloaked figure said cheerfully, walking over to him. Dimitri, despite lowering it, gripped his primitive weapon, still untrusting of this hostile world he'd been thrown into.
"Relax, he's a Guardian. He's not going to hurt you." His Ghost chided.
How can you be sure? Dimitri hissed from within the safety of his subconscious.
"Because your head hasn't been blown off."
"Not every day I see a Titan wandering alone through the Cosmodrome. Is your fire team around, or is it just you?" The newcomer stopped about two metres away from him. His blue armour seemed utterly superior, streamlined yet strong and covered by a long white cloak with a hood. His similarly bulky and utilitarian helmet obscured his face, but Dimitri could feel that pair of eyes appraising him.
"Just us." Dimitri's Ghost said aloud, flashing into existence.
"…Strange. I thought the Vanguard had rules against that sort of thing..." The Guardian trailed off, realisation dawning upon him. "Were you just revived for the first time?"
"Yes." Dimitri answered, not sure what a Titan was. More questions for later.
"Oh..." The Hunter sighed, his cheerful tone becoming serious. "Right, listen up and you listen well. You do exactly as I say, you don't go out of sight, and you don't break comms with me. The Cosmodrome is dangerous even for people who actually know this place...have you found a ship?"
"Um...um..." The inexperienced demi-god stammered before his Ghost jumped in for him.
"Not yet...still searching."
"Well then thank the Traveller, I do. It's about a kilometre away, it's somewhat rusted, but it'll work for you. Amanda does like fixing up broken things..." The Guardian began walking back to his sparrow until his own Ghost appeared. The machine looked much different to Dimitri's, not ivory white but dark red. It wore its shell, The Devils' watcher, with no small amount of pride. He'd earned it, having fought with his Guardian, his begrudging friend, at the Twilight gap. The place where they slew four Barons of the House of Devils and the House of Winter.
"Are you forgetting something?" It said sardonically.
The Hunter froze and winced. "Ah...you don't have a Sparrow do you?"
Dimitri shook his head.
"Oh that's just perfect...makes my job bloody easy that does..." He huffed. His vehicle flickered away into light, and he turned around to face his charge.
Stuck looking after a pup? Oh well, at least I'm not trapped in the Tower like poor Cayde. Damn fool, what sort of blithering idiot actually takes that dare? The Hunter inwardly chuckled at the thought of his poor old friend trapped at a desk for the rest of eternity.
"Looks like we're on foot then. Fortunately, it won't be too much of a sprint from here. About ten minutes, maybe less if we push it." He sounded grim, as if he didn't want to approach this place from the ground.
"Wait...is there a catch to this?" Dimitri's eyebrows knitted together, not liking the sound of this.
"Oh yes...it's in old Riksis's personal abode." The Guardian nodded forebodingly.
"...Riksis?"
"Fallen Archon. Big, bad, smelly, heavily armed, and constantly furious. Known locally as the Skull Taker. Charming fellow. If we're quick, you'll be away before he knows anything. If not...well, let's hope there's some other Hunters wandering around." He started sprinting off with Dimitri soon following, both their Ghosts returning to their minds.
...Riksis...
"I have little doubt he's ordered the House of Devils to bring him your head. That's why they've been so persistent with you." His Ghost relayed.
And we're going to break into his house?
"Yes."
...I'm all for adventure and bravery and all that, but...
"I'm scared too."
To an outsider's perspective, the Ghost seemed almost mournful with how it carried out its strange task. Surveying the grizzly remains of innocents butchered for no crime was a large reason for this behaviour, yet a more selfish desire was mixed in. For this was a lonely construct, having carried out a search that had lasted hundreds of years. Across the solar system it had looked, on every world, station, moon, or asteroid. Now, here on Earth where it was born, it was on the verge of giving up. Consumed by melancholy, it continued to hover over the road…until…
It passed over a body slumped against an ancient vehicle. With its rib cage torn open and bone crushed the skeleton was a ruinous mess. Upon it however, the little Machine's gaze froze. It closed the distance and almost touched the clean skull.
"Is it…possible?" Its electronic voice, one ill experienced yet kind, whispered.
It carried out another scan, touching at the last moments of this individual's life through the Light. Grief, rage, terror, sadness, all were present. Yet there was bravery, a heroic deed carried out without any thought of reward or fame. Bravery and sacrifice...the very core of what made a Guardian.
"I..I've found you!" The little machine sang with joy, splitting apart and unleashing a blinding flash of white light.
Someone else was watching the display, though. Searing, glowing blue eyes, four in number, narrowed into slits. The inhuman mandibles of the Fallen Vandal, an alien so far from home, scrunched into a snarl. Standing up, its ragged red cloak billowed in the wind. The four-armed creature, covered in bone like armour, chattered furiously into its inbuilt radio communications.
"A Wolf-thief has awakened. Let us bring its head to the Archon."
Dozens of other alien voices savagely responded in their strange tongue immediately. The forces of the House of Devils converged on the area with gusto, to snuff out the newly risen Wolf-thief. One of the vile robbers that stole the Great Machine.
XXX
The blackness was pushed away by a dim light, like a gentle dawn piercing through the night sky. Slowly, his blurry vision cleared as strength returned to every corner of his body. He felt warm clothes on him the likes of which he'd never touched, covered in armour he'd never seen. His head was protected by an environmentally sealed helmet."Eyes up, Guardian." The voice rang like steel through Dimitri's ears.
"Wha..." Shakily he managed to stand up, his muscles feeling as if they were on fire. Directly in front of him hovered a strange machine, its one glowing blue eye fixed on him. Around it was a landscape of ruin, where the last act of his life had played out long ago. Now however, it was a winter day, snow being a thick white blanket upon the graves of thousands.
"This might sound strange...but you've sort of been dead for a very long time." The machine sounded strangely sympathetic.
"Where...am I? What are you?" He croaked, his voice and being feeling so weak. Where he in a normal frame of body and mind, Dimitri would have momentarily been unnerved by the machine. Yet it seemed on an almost instinctual level that he shouldn't be afraid of it.
"I'm a Ghost, I've brought you back from the dead. You're in the same place that you died." It put, bluntly.
"Died? What are you talking about..." The memories cascaded back into him like a roaring tidal wave. The Solar System burning, the screams of billions, the terrible horde that ended everything, they all flashed before his eyes.
"I...died?" Dimitri whispered.
"Yes..." The Ghost said awkwardly. It flicked its gaze up when an inhuman roar in the distance caught its attention. "Look, I'll explain what I can to you in a moment, but right now we have to move." It suddenly fazed out of existence, leaving Dimitri standing there.
"No! Please don't leave me!" He barely held back a scream, feverishly remembering the blade sliding through his ribcage.
"Don't worry, I'm still with you. I'll show you where to go." Its voice echoed from within his mind, impossibly clear as day. A symbol flickered into existence on his helmet's hud, a single white diamond hovering over a rusting entrance in the distant wall, a waypoint.
"How are you...uh, do I go towards that?" Dimitri said, exasperated, just wishing to know what in God's name was going on.
"In short...yes." Said the Ghost.
"But how are you-" More shrieks and roars echoed in the distance. Dimitri hesitated for only a moment, then ran.
XXX
Long ago, this wall was built to stave off any ground assault, whilst the fleet maintained orbital supremacy high above. The fortification was meant to be impregnable, and immeasurable amounts of resources had been spent on it by the Slavic state. Tragically it had all come to nothing at the end of the day, the vast, scorched gaps present in the once mighty construct were a grim testament to that.He'd reached a cat walk going over the long defunct power generators, when his Ghost spoke up.
"Stop."
"Why?" Dimitri whispered, recognizing the urgency in its voice.
"They're right above us."
He wondered what it meant, until scraping and feet slamming against the floor echoed above him. His blood turned colder than the ice of Pluto, as he imagined rotten teeth tearing into his flesh.
"Talk to me with your mind. They might actually be close enough to hear us." The machine said.
How the hell do I do that? Dimitri pondered, staying as quiet as possible.
"Just like that."
His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish before he decided to just accept how strange today was. He'd been brutally murdered by space zombies after all, so this shouldn't be too hard to wrap his head around.
What are they?
"They're called Fallen. They are here to kill you, to take your Light."
My Light? His eyebrows knitted together. The Light was an energy source that powered everything, not something found in people. Or at least he thought.
"I'm sorry...I keep forgetting you're new to this. I will explain soon, when we get out of here."
Dimitri forced down his innumerable questions and remained stationary.
"Move forward...slowly..."
He did as he was told, thankfully not being jumped upon by some horrendous creature from another world. Soon they arrived at a large locked door surrounded by darkness, with only a few shafts of light stabbing through the ruined roof.
I can't see a thing.
"Hold on. I'll try and do something about that." The Ghost reappeared in a flash, flying off to the corner of the vast room. Great metal pipes led up to the ceiling, clearly being a part of however power flowed through the complex. They'd probably not had a flicker of electricity in them for however long he'd been dead…
The idea that he'd been torn to shreds and yet stood here now was a near impossible one. In fact, a little part of him was certain he'd wake up back home soon. Those glowing green eyes and those leering, rotting teeth however...they were too real to be a dream. Dimitri had died and did so horrifically, no amount of wishful thinking would change that.
It hurt. My God, it hurt so much. I've never been that scared before...never been so cold.
"There's nothing wrong with being afraid of death. Any rational creature would feel exactly the same as you...Aha! That should do it!" The Ghost telepathically whistled cheerfully, switching the great lamps on.
Can you hear everything I think?
"If you don't want me to, just let me know-" The sudden illumination revealed dozens of Fallen Dregs staring at them both. For a moment the Ghost stared back, not a metre away from them, then flashed away.
"Door's open, run!" It cried from within his head.
The door mercifully slid open and Dimitri barrelled through it, like a fox pursued by hounds. He desperately tried to block out the alien shrieks, knowing deep down they were calling for his death.
"Thief, thief! Kill the thief!" A Dreg roared in its tongue.
"You wish to chase down one of the Wolf-thieves? You be my guest." Another, more experienced one chastised.
"Irrelevant. Bring me the Guardian's head!" The gravelly, booming voice of Riksis, Archon of the House of Devils, ripped through their comms. Knowing the wrath of the much larger and stronger Fallen, the Dregs obliged.
XXX
By some miracle he didn't trip, despite his inhuman speed. Dimitri didn't understand how he'd become so fast, or felt so strong. In his previous life the young man had never been unfit, but this was beyond him. He tore through the long-abandoned fortification, the waypoints provided by his Ghost showing him where to go. If it wasn't for this strange little machine...he would never have had any hope of making it.But when he reached another corridor, one darker than any of the others, he stopped. Blood red beams crisscrossed it from top to bottom, barring his way. The ominous red blob on his motion tracker however, sent a chill cascading down his spine. Out of sight, at the other end of the corridor, was a group of hostiles.
"We have to fight..." His Ghost sounded nervous.
Dimitri hid round the edge of the corridor, slumping to the ground, breathing heavily. The young Guardian desperately fought to keep it under control, but to no avail.
"I can't do it." He said miserably. Distant feelings of his bones crunching came to mind. The agony, then the eternity of nothingness, threatened to utterly overwhelm him.
"Yes, you can. You're a Guardian of the Traveller's Light, besting the forces of Darkness is what you're best at. And you aren't alone." There was a flickering of light, then something metal nudged his shoulder. Dimitri met the gaze of his Ghost who hovered a hair's breadth from his face. "I'm your Ghost, I will always guide you."
"But how do I even fight? If I got close enough I could punch them I guess but...I won't get that close." He shook his head, having no faith in himself.
"Yes. You need a weapon..." The small machine flew off into a corner and scanned what appeared to be a long-rusted Auto-Rifle. After a few moments, the Ghost stopped then looked back at him. "A Khvostov 7G-0X. Excellent rifle for its day, and not at all useless by modern standards."
"Do you want me to pick that up?" He tilted his head.
"...you need a weapon."
"I...oh, chyort, sorry." Dimitri muttered, scrambling over to the weapon that might just save his life. Picking it up he was surprised by how light it was.
"Can you shoot?" The Ghost asked.
"Of course not." He hissed.
"...Well...there's a first time for everything." It flashed back into his mind. Gritting his teeth, Dimitri slowly poked his head around the corner, trying to see whatever was making that red blob on his motion tracker. Meeting with no luck on that front, he focused on the crisscrossing red beams.
"What are those?" He asked. All pretence of stealth was gone, the Fallen knew where he was. There was no need to stay quiet.
"They're the Fallen equivalent of trip mines. The red light acts as a sensor, and when it's triggered-"
"It explodes, got it." Steadily dropping to one knee, he levelled his rifle. Dimitri drew air into his lungs to balance his aim, then pulled the trigger. The rounds hit the metal cylinder that was projecting the trip wire, detonating the mine. He rolled back around the corner, the explosion and shrapnel detonating the rest.
"You could've just slipped underneath them, you know."
"They already know we're here. At least this way they can't use those mines again."
"Fair enough. Although that's probably got the attention of half the Fallen in the Wall."
"If that's the case, God they're sluggish at responding."
"They want some good sport. Why bring a fun hunt to an end so quickly?"
Dimitri grimaced, feeling a little sick inside at the idea of being big game to these creatures. Weirdly enough though, he didn't feel as afraid of them as the rotting thing that killed him that long age ago. These "Fallen" seemed perfectly alive and that comforted him. The living could be brought down much more easily than the undead.
With the mines all detonated, ripping the corridor to shreds, he ran forward with auto-rifle held tightly to him. His eyes warily scanned ahead for any sign of shifting shadow or weapon discharge.
"How far is the exit?" Sweat, produced by tension, trickled down the back of Dimitri's neck.
"About one and a half kilometres, not much further-"
An air vent dropped from the ceiling, followed by a creature with glowing blue eyes. The first Fallen Dreg Dimitri had ever seen up close was a small yet somehow menacing creature. Fur jutted out in some sort of crest from its head, the rest of its body being alarmingly exposed. Wielding a crackling knife and shock pistol, this was the foot soldier of a remnant's shadow.
"Kill the Wolf-thief!" It barked in a tongue he didn't know but understood the intent, and opened fire. Arc energy bolts surged towards him, causing Dimitri to freeze like a dear in the headlights and wince as they hit home. He expected death, only to see red flash on his hud along with a slim blue bar at the top of it decreasing slightly.
"What are you waiting for!? Shoot them!" His Ghost's panic shook him out of his dazed state.
Another four Dregs dropped behind their braver comrade, equally as ferocious. Dimitri's Khvostov snapped up and spat flam. Unused to firearms, the recoil kicked his aim up, but the range was too close to miss. Supernaturally enhanced rounds tore through the lead Dreg, spattering alien blood, bone and brain, everywhere. Its comrades howled in rage and thundering towards him with knives swishing and pistols hissing. They wanted this to be up close and personal.
...I'll oblige them. Dimitri scowled with unusual resolve, and threw himself at the Fallen. His shoulder connected with the lead one, the force reducing it to a bloody smear. Whilst doing that, he held his Auto-Rifle out and fired, ripping apart two more Fallen to his left. The one at the very rear stopped in its tracks and tried to futilely back away.
Dimitri propelled himself at the last Dreg. His Khvostov flickered out of existence in a shimmer of light, but not at all to his dismay. For the desire to pulverise this beast up close and personal, had overcome him.
You mess with my day, and I'll mess with yours, piz'da!
Barely noticing his fist glow a luminescent, brilliant blue, he thrust it into the Dreg's genetically engineered face. The alien's head crumpled from the impact, snapping its entire body back and flinging it across the corridor. The Dreg disintegrated into flakes of light before it touched the ground again.
He stood there, savagely grinning, until he looked around at the bloodied and broken remains of his enemies. Gore and a horrid stench plagued Dimitri's senses, his breath quickening as a result.
"My God..." Dimitri looked at his trembling hands, struggling to believe what he'd done. With strength like this he might have stood a chance at saving his parents, however long ago it was. On top of that...he'd just snuffed out five lives as if they were nothing...
"It was them or you...that's how this works." His Ghost unhelpfully offered.
"I know, it's just..." Those glowing blue eyes, those frantic glowing blue eyes, stabbed at his heart. "Do they have names? Feelings?"
"...yes." The Ghost said, sadly.
Chyort
The little machine was right though. He had to move on, it was really them or him.
Racing through the crumbling and rusting corridors of the wall, Dimitri outstripped the pursuing Fallen. Jumping across vast caverns and gaps made by the passage of time, he marvelled at his strength and his power. His very veins pumped with adrenaline and the power of the Light.
"You are a Guardian. The might of the Traveller's Light courses through you. There are few mortal foes who could even hope of standing against you."
"Well...I guess I'll thank it if I live through this."
On his radar, a big red blob, much larger than the previous one, appeared. Right by the exit...
"Oh come on...that's not fair." His Ghost huffed, eliciting a chuckle from his Guardian. "What?"
"Life isn't fair. I didn't think machines could get upset about that." Dimitri's lips lifted into a slight smile.
"I'm an A.I. I think and feel just as much as you do. After all, what are you but a machine of flesh and blood?"
"...fair point."
Dimitri slowed his pace, but pushed on nonetheless. Eventually, he arrived at a catwalk which overlooked a large room. This was once where fresh ammunition was brought in and offloaded. Sunlight filled it, stabbing through long broken windows and empty doorways. It lifted his spirits beyond reason.
They soon dropped again, however, upon sighting what stood between him and the sun's gentle touch. An entire platoon of Fallen were traipsing through his escape route.
...Ghost...what do I call you? He asked telepathically, midway through his more tactical question. The young man inwardly chastised himself for never even asking his guide and saviour's name.
"I have no name." It murmured.
What?
"I have no name. The Traveller gave me life, everything else I must find for myself."
Oh...okay...what am I looking at? Dimitri directed at the force in front of him.
"Damn, a proper Fallen scouting force. They really want you dead."
How many?
"Ten Dregs...the small ones. Those two medium sized ones are called Vandals, they're a bit like low rank officers crossed with snipers. And that really big one is called a Captain. He has an energy shield…be careful of him."
Alright. What do you think I should do? He looked down upon the variously sized Fallen. The Dregs he was familiar with, but the Vandals…they were about his size and had proper armour. Bony faceplates/breathers, helms and long cloaks distinguished them, along with those wicked looking wire rifles.
And the Captain…the three-metre-tall magnificent monster took his breath away. The creature held itself with pride and strength, its massive weapon held professionally in its hands. In appearance it was like a Vandal except larger, its helm having more horns and spikes.
"I'd recommend throwing a grenade to scatter those Dregs, then pick off the Vandals with your rifle. After that, mop up the remaining Dregs, then focus all your attention on the Captain. You'll need to." His Ghost cut into his moment of thought.
...grenades?
"...I did tell you about grenades, right?"
No.
"Ah...sorry..."
He didn't have the heart to feel angry with it, that voice sounded so helpless and innocent. In many ways, he and it were quite similar. An icon flashed up in the corner of his hud, one that resembled a frag grenade. His rifle flashed away, to be replaced by said grenade.
"Are we ready?" His Ghost sounded nervous.
No.
"That's makes two of us."
Quietly as possible, Dimitri pulled the pin and threw it as hard as he could over the catwalk. A few Dregs caught sight of it rolling into their midst. Their minds blanked for a few crucial moments, realising danger where they saw it.
"Grenade!" A Vandal screeched, throwing itself out of the blast radius before the crump of a detonation rolled across the room. Three Dregs were ripped to shreds, and two more were blasted off their feet by the shock wave. With the Dregs disorientated, the Vandals and the Captain frantically looked around for their mysterious attacker
His rifle re-materialised and Dimitri brought it to bear on them. Letting off a quick burst, one Vandal's head was torn apart. Switching his aim, Dimitri struck the other in the chest. Said unfortunate Fallen had managed to let off a shot but it missed him by more than a metre.
He ducked back down to avoid returning fire, preparing to move again. The Captain was having none of that though. Enraged at the slaughter of his kin he raised his scorch cannon and unleashed its power.
Dimitri's plan evaporated along with the catwalk. He tumbled down onto the ground, having to throw himself clear of debris. On instinct, enhanced by the Traveller's grace, he pushed forward, scorch shots and shock bolts whizzing past him. Some hit and dented his shields slightly but it was not much of a problem. Ducking behind a rusting van, he tried to think for a few moments, casting a glance at the open and full of sunlight doorway.
"They'd cut you down. We're going to have to fight this out." His Ghost observed, grimly.
Chyort...how the hell did that go so well anyway? I'm not a soldier.
"Two words. Traveller's. Grace."
...so...magic?
"How about we talk about this after you deal with the vicious aliens that want us dead!" Irritation seeped into that mechanical tone.
It was right of course, this would be a stand-up fight. Leaning out from behind cover, he let off a good burst at the Captain, doing about as much good as throwing a tennis ball at a tank.
Piz'det! Dimitri ran again, only just avoiding the van being blown across the room by the Fallen Captain's wrath. Dozens of shock bolts followed momentarily, hissing with lethal vehemence.
"You will die here!" The massive alien roared, its people's equivalent of a rapid-fire bazooka barking away.
We've got to bring him down!
"Agreed!"
How the fuck do we do that!?
"Umm..."
Umm is not going to cut it!
"Take out the other Dregs first. Then you can bring down the Captain."
He rolled beneath another three blasts from the Scorch Cannon, the wall behind him being reduced to ash and rubble. Then mercifully, there was the sound of an empty weapon clicking and alien grumblings of frustration.
In that precious moment, Dimitri stood his ground and opened fire on the Dregs. Much of their returning fire hit him, knocking his shields down to thirty percent. But with the rifle's every burst, a Dreg fell. By the time the Captain had reloaded, all his subordinates were dead.
"Attention! I have engaged the thief, my squad is down, I need back up!" He growled into his comms.
"Recieved and understood. Hold it there until my arrival." Baron Gildeks, a Lord of the House of Devils, boomed into his earpiece. The larger and much more powerful alien had everything to gain by bringing the Great Machine's pet to his master. Archon Riksis was not the highest-ranking member of the House, but he was second only to Aksis and Sepiks Prime themselves. Gaining his favour, the favour of he which the thieves had named "Skull taker", would get the Baron far. After all, Archon Gildeks certainly had a ring to it.
The Captain reloaded his weapon and continued firing, tearing apart ancient vehicles and walls long having lost their structural integrity. Fortunately for Dimitri it seemed he was faster than his foe's arc of fire. He couldn't do this at range, he'd have to get close and...
"Your plan is to punch this thing to death?" His Ghost said, sardonically.
Yes!
"That's...really quite simple..."
But effective!
Quickly closing the gap, Dimitri flung himself at his enemy, his fist glowing that strange blue. He struck the Fallen's shields with all his might, ripping them away in a heartbeat and flinging the alien into one of the lorries it had ruined. Whilst still marvelling at his own strength, Dimitri levelled his rifle and emptied a clip of ammunition into the crumpled Fallen, screaming in frustration.
With its chest ripped open, armour, blood, and bone mashed together, he reckoned it was dead. As he'd done before, Dimitri looked around at the surrounding carnage…and felt sick. He'd just slaughtered thirteen aliens and he wasn't even sweating.
What the hell am I?
"You're a Guardian."
I know...but...doesn't that mean I should protect? Not...this... He scanned across that vast room, at all the individuals he'd cut down without a second thought.
I'll always be doing this...won't I?
"Yes...but all this protects the Last City...protects mankind. When you get there, you'll understand why this has to be done." The Ghost offered, not sounding entirely convinced itself.
Dimitri frowned but didn't respond.
XXX
When he was young, he'd seen news reports about this place. He remembered video feed of thousands boarding the great colony ships and flying into the stars to live among them. This was the centre of technological development in the Greater Slavic Federation, where the FTL capable Tolstoy Engine was invented.Trade ships would return from the colonies, bringing various and exotic items back with them. The flowers of Venus, the iron of Mars, all flowed through the markets of Earth, to name just a few. An "age of wonders" didn't do that time justice.
It had been a life mission of his to visit the Cosmodrome. Not to board any of those ships, but to simply watch them take off with his own eyes. Now Dimitri was here...he felt sad. Rusted ruins, collapsed ancient ships, skeletons, and deathly silence were all that remained of the Golden Age. His age.
"How long has it been like this?" He said aloud, not having to fear Fallen hiding around the corner. His Ghost did the same.
"A thousand to two thousand years...we're not sure." Having popped into existence, its own blue eye flickered over the landscape with some melancholy. "You'll be wanting to keep heading east. We've got a long journey ahead of us, but it shouldn't be too hard once we're out of here. Devil territory doesn't stretch much further… Hmph, Fallen don't stray far past here. Not after what the Iron Lords did to them."
"How far are we talking?" Dimitri asked, putting his questions about these "Iron Lords" away for later, his feet crunching in the snow. What a wonderful noise it was, one that generated memories of childhood and playing with friends.
"As in, Himalayas."
"What?" His mouth fell open.
"The Himalayas. That's where the Last City is. Don't worry, for you this would be like a hiking trip over some mildly steep hills."
"But that's...that's got be thousands of miles..."
"Yes. And?"
Dimitri grimaced. Long walks were not to his taste, especially with his mother hauling him around the national parks of Russia whenever she could. Anatoly and Diana Mendevev had always been ones for the outdoors, despite his protestations. His soul twisted in grief at remembering those happy days, of his parents smiling.
Trying to take his mind off the matter, Dimitri looked upwards, appreciating the bright sun and blue sky. Alas, he could not feel Sol's warmth, clad in strange armour as he was. The unusual phenomena of the Moon crossing the sky during day time caught his attention. What he saw upon closer inspection, though, caused him to stop in his tracks.
Luna, that constant beautiful pearl of the night's sky, was scarred. It seemed as if a giant claw had torn it asunder. Vast chunks of debris were only just being kept from floating off into the stars by its gravity. That, and a sickly, all too familiar green energy.
"What in God's name..." There was a sour taste in his mouth, and Dimitri felt like curling into a little ball. The Ghost flickered its gaze upon its Guardian, then looked upwards.
"The work of the Hive Prince Crota. There was a battle long ago, about two thousand Guardians died up there. I watched it...I...I..." It trailed off, unable to put its thoughts into words. Something that should not have been possible for a "machine." Evidently what it saw must have been horror beyond imagination. Such was war.
"Hive?" He looked it dead in the eye, ignoring the slight tingle in his spine the name "Crota" provoked. There was no time for the Ghost to reply, as a shrieking noise tore across the Cosmodrome. Four insect like ships shifted into existence. From their bowels, dozens of Fallen descended, one of them larger than any living creature Dimitri had seen before.
"Get to cover, now." His Ghost hissed. Dimitri obliged in a heartbeat, diving into one of the many buildings scattered around this place.
What's the problem? He switched back to talking through the mind.
"A Baron...a Baron...here? Traveller give us strength." Fear seeped into that mechanical voice.
A Baron? Is that what that big thing is?
"Yes. One of the highest ranking Fallen on Earth."
Can't we take it?
"No, this is completely out of our league. Just look."
Dimitri peeked through a long-smashed window, feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. There had to be no less than fifty Fallen sweeping the area. And their leader was twice the size of the Captain he'd just fought. Shrinking back into cover, Dimitri breathed slowly to calm himself, to think.
Chyort...now what?
"We have to send up an SOS signal. Pray some other Guardians aren't too far away-"
Why don't we just stay here and let them pass through?
"Don't you listen? They are here for you! They want to kill you! They know you are here, they will burn this entire complex for you." The little machine's voice rang through Dimitri's head like great church bells. "I'm...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to-"
It's okay. We all get angry. He tried to calm it down.
"I've wandered the system for three hundred years to find you. I...I don't want to lose you now."
You looked for me? Both of Dimitri's eyebrows rose, wondering why it had spent so long looking for a nobody like him. The machine sounded like it wanted to say more, then stopped itself.
"If we get out of here, I'll explain. I need a bit of time to send up that signal, but that'll go out across every frequency. The Fallen will swarm us, ready your weapon."
Oh god...I just want this to end. Dimitri clutched his Khvostov tightly. He had to fight again, and this time his enemy had the sheer power to overwhelm him. After a few moments, the Fallen Baron and his Captains barked orders in their strange tongue. Their subordinates stormed towards the building in which he hid.
"Signal's up, they know we're here." The Ghost grimly informed.
He slowly levelled his weapon at the door, knowing it would burst open any second. The iron door was ripped off its hinges by shock grenades and three Dregs charged through. Dimitri opened fire, three short bursts putting down some of the most unformidable creatures in the Solar system. Those behind them shrieked in anger, but their commander, Baron Gildeks, produced a few chirps of satisfaction.
"Bring me my quarry. Bring me the Wolf-thief's head!"
"Yes, Baron!"
Dimitri had to back away from the door, having shot down another four Dregs. Vandals were peppering his approximate position with shock bolts, forcing him out of his defensive position. His shields were knocked down to seventy-five percent, a testament to the fact Fallen could shoot, and shoot well.
"Anything!?" He called out, tossing a grenade at a group of Vandals which were advancing through the corridor. There was a crump, soon followed by the sickening splatter of gore.
"Someone would have heard us...someone must have heard us..." The Ghost sounded like it was trying to reassure itself.
"We need an escape plan!" Dimitri nervously checked his ammunition, and the red blob which had surrounded him on his motion tracker. He'd bitten his cheek so hard, he could taste blood.
"We're surrounded. We've got nowhere to go..."
The realisation there was no surviving this hit him harder than that blade of bone did long ago. Whipping around a corner, he found his legs giving out on him. Even with all this power, Dimitri was still utterly helpless. Collapsing to the floor, he leaned against the wall and frantically fought back the tears.
"This...this is it...isn't it?"
"No, of course not-"
"Don't lie to me."
The Ghost said nothing for a while, as shock bolts sliced through the wall just ahead of them. A Ghost could resurrect a Guardian many times over, but it was a vulnerable life form. It could be destroyed with effortless ease before it could return its partner from the dead. After so many centuries, it had found its Guardian, only to have him ripped away almost instantly.
"I'm so sorry...I failed you." The little machine sounded like it was barely choking back electronic sobs.
"No. You did just fine." Dimitri closed his eyes and felt moisture trickle down his cheek. He could remember it, that sense of nothingness which would reclaim him soon enough.
I don't want to die.
A loud shot crashed out. Dimitri opened his eyes, finding he hadn't been hit.
"What the…" His nose wrinkled.
More rolling thuds echoed across the Cosmodrome, as Fallen heads exploded into gore. There was a cacophony of roars, this time not as ferocious, but more confused and disorganized. They were being scattered, attacked by an unknown party.
"Another Guardian! Thank the Traveller..." His Ghost sang in joy and relief.
It was projectile weaponry, heavy projectile weaponry. Dimitri could not tell it was a sniper rifle, but merely from the heaviness of the thud he guessed it had insane penetration power. Standing up, he charged around the corner and back into the main corridor. Seven Fallen stood there, barking into their comms for an update on the situation.
Although his eyes were still wet, Dimitri's Khvostov belched fire, his fist glowing that unearthly blue. It would have been no contest even if the aliens had time to respond. Their covering fire was being slaughtered, their commanders picked off, and a Baron's screams was tearing through their ears.
"What are you fools doing? There is only two of them!?"
"Two of them is enough, Baron. I'd recommend withdrawing..." A Captain immediately hailed his skiff, which returned with haste. His Fallen re-embarked as quickly as possible, then their ship pulled away to safety.
My Eliksni die for his ambition? By the Great Machine what madness...The alien officer shook his head and sighed with disdain.
A Vandal, paralysed by fear, was desperately trying to keep its head down. It prayed to the Great Machine that he would spared the wrath of the Wolf-thieves. A powerful hand grasped his shoulder, forcing him to look upwards at the furious Baron.
"Get up! There's only two, now kill them-" His shield popped out when the unseen attacker's first round struck him square in the head. Gildeks only had time to wonder what was happening before his head "popped" too.
This was the last straw for the Fallen of the House of Devils. Twenty-eight dead along with their Baron, sandwiched between two Guardians, they made the only logical choice.
The skiffs warping away was the most reassuring and relieving sound Dimitri had yet heard in his life. He walked out of his temporary "stronghold" and into the sunlight of the Russian winter. Around him there was carnage. He'd only brought down several Fallen, his mysterious saviour had wiped out more than twice as many. Every single corpse on the snowy ground had heads reduced to blue pulps.
"A Hunter." His Ghost said to itself.
"A what?" Dimitri tilted his head.
"A Hunter. There's only one class of Guardian which shoots that straight. I've heard stories of them wandering around the Cosmodrome but I never expected..."
He struck out into the killing ground, awed by the precision of the butchery. His armoured boots kept crunching in the snow, eliciting yet more fond childhood memories. It did him good to take his mind off the slaughter and just how many times he'd come close to death that day.
"So...where now?" He blinked heavily, as if waking from a dream.
"We stay put for a little while, see if our new friend passes by."
"Alright...huh?" Dimitri's rifle snapped upwards, hearing what sounded like an electronic whine in the distance coming closer.
"Ah, here they come."
"What's making that noise?"
"Oh...it's called a Sparrow. They're like...bikes." The Ghost struggled to give a description his Guardian would understand.
"Bikes?"
"Ones that fly...and are powered by Light..."
"That's nothing like a bike." Dimitri clenched his jaw.
"I'm trying!"
Sure enough, the long angular vehicle and its rider came into view a few moments later. The S-22 Nomad as it was known, was a favoured vehicle of the Hunters. Fast and manoeuvrable, it could take any Guardian to wherever they wanted very quickly. Unfortunately, like the rest of the "Nomad" series, it lacked any real armour and shielding. Hunters did not care of course. If the enemy couldn't hit you, then it didn't matter how little protection you had.
The Sparrow stopped ten metres from him, its rider getting off it with practised elegance. Their long cloak billowed in the wind.
"Hello there. You look like you're lost." The cloaked figure said cheerfully, walking over to him. Dimitri, despite lowering it, gripped his primitive weapon, still untrusting of this hostile world he'd been thrown into.
"Relax, he's a Guardian. He's not going to hurt you." His Ghost chided.
How can you be sure? Dimitri hissed from within the safety of his subconscious.
"Because your head hasn't been blown off."
"Not every day I see a Titan wandering alone through the Cosmodrome. Is your fire team around, or is it just you?" The newcomer stopped about two metres away from him. His blue armour seemed utterly superior, streamlined yet strong and covered by a long white cloak with a hood. His similarly bulky and utilitarian helmet obscured his face, but Dimitri could feel that pair of eyes appraising him.
"Just us." Dimitri's Ghost said aloud, flashing into existence.
"…Strange. I thought the Vanguard had rules against that sort of thing..." The Guardian trailed off, realisation dawning upon him. "Were you just revived for the first time?"
"Yes." Dimitri answered, not sure what a Titan was. More questions for later.
"Oh..." The Hunter sighed, his cheerful tone becoming serious. "Right, listen up and you listen well. You do exactly as I say, you don't go out of sight, and you don't break comms with me. The Cosmodrome is dangerous even for people who actually know this place...have you found a ship?"
"Um...um..." The inexperienced demi-god stammered before his Ghost jumped in for him.
"Not yet...still searching."
"Well then thank the Traveller, I do. It's about a kilometre away, it's somewhat rusted, but it'll work for you. Amanda does like fixing up broken things..." The Guardian began walking back to his sparrow until his own Ghost appeared. The machine looked much different to Dimitri's, not ivory white but dark red. It wore its shell, The Devils' watcher, with no small amount of pride. He'd earned it, having fought with his Guardian, his begrudging friend, at the Twilight gap. The place where they slew four Barons of the House of Devils and the House of Winter.
"Are you forgetting something?" It said sardonically.
The Hunter froze and winced. "Ah...you don't have a Sparrow do you?"
Dimitri shook his head.
"Oh that's just perfect...makes my job bloody easy that does..." He huffed. His vehicle flickered away into light, and he turned around to face his charge.
Stuck looking after a pup? Oh well, at least I'm not trapped in the Tower like poor Cayde. Damn fool, what sort of blithering idiot actually takes that dare? The Hunter inwardly chuckled at the thought of his poor old friend trapped at a desk for the rest of eternity.
"Looks like we're on foot then. Fortunately, it won't be too much of a sprint from here. About ten minutes, maybe less if we push it." He sounded grim, as if he didn't want to approach this place from the ground.
"Wait...is there a catch to this?" Dimitri's eyebrows knitted together, not liking the sound of this.
"Oh yes...it's in old Riksis's personal abode." The Guardian nodded forebodingly.
"...Riksis?"
"Fallen Archon. Big, bad, smelly, heavily armed, and constantly furious. Known locally as the Skull Taker. Charming fellow. If we're quick, you'll be away before he knows anything. If not...well, let's hope there's some other Hunters wandering around." He started sprinting off with Dimitri soon following, both their Ghosts returning to their minds.
...Riksis...
"I have little doubt he's ordered the House of Devils to bring him your head. That's why they've been so persistent with you." His Ghost relayed.
And we're going to break into his house?
"Yes."
...I'm all for adventure and bravery and all that, but...
"I'm scared too."
XXX
Sorry about the wait, a few things that go by the names of University and thumping headache got in the way of me posting sooner.
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Timerider
That guy who really should get out more.
- Location
- The End of the World.
Hooray! New chapter!
I like how human and nervous you've made the MC. As has been established, he was just an ordinary civilian who died in a moment of bravery during the Collapse. It makes sense that he would struggle to get into super-solider mode. I expect that he will be rather reluctant to get out of the City and into the field. Maybe he could spend a good bit of time on the Wall for watch out duty to get on his feet. He's also going to need a support network fast. He remembers being at ground zero during the Collapse, that's got to leave some mental scaring.
So does this kid have any (un)natural mad skillz that he is unaware of, aside from Guardian shenanigans? If he's gonna be more than just a fill-in-the-blank MC he's going to need some kind of gimmick, both tactically and personally. Although it's still early yet, I'm not really seeing anything stand out. I guess I'll just have to wait for more story to flesh out.
Great job so far! keep up the good work!
I like how human and nervous you've made the MC. As has been established, he was just an ordinary civilian who died in a moment of bravery during the Collapse. It makes sense that he would struggle to get into super-solider mode. I expect that he will be rather reluctant to get out of the City and into the field. Maybe he could spend a good bit of time on the Wall for watch out duty to get on his feet. He's also going to need a support network fast. He remembers being at ground zero during the Collapse, that's got to leave some mental scaring.
So does this kid have any (un)natural mad skillz that he is unaware of, aside from Guardian shenanigans? If he's gonna be more than just a fill-in-the-blank MC he's going to need some kind of gimmick, both tactically and personally. Although it's still early yet, I'm not really seeing anything stand out. I guess I'll just have to wait for more story to flesh out.
Great job so far! keep up the good work!
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Thank you for your kind words. Worry not, I do intend for him to have some character traits and to evolve over time like any good character should. Although at the very least...in my opinion...he's something of an improvement over who we got in the original Destiny...
Ultra Sonic 007
Trying to keep things simple~
- Location
- Colorado
Well, Dimitri clearly isn't the main character. He should be blowing up Riksis while not being afraid of anything. 
It is a different narrative track from the power fantasy that Destiny tends to give off, which is a nice change of pace.
One quick question though: are you intentionally writing this from the standpoint of an omniscient narrator? Because it seems like the narrative focus isn't just on Dimitri in the same scene. For example:
It makes it seem as though 'Dimitri' is thinking of 'my Eliksni', even though the context indicate it belongs to the retreating Captain. Similarly:
Windsor-2's name (and status as an Exo) is revealed via narration, but Dimitri has no context to place that via dialogue or anything. The new Hunter's identity is made known to the reader, but Dimitri has no way of knowing it within the actual story itself thus far. In like manner, the italicized thoughts on the bottom are - in context - from Windsor-2, but the focus of the narration still appears to be Dimitri, so it's somewhat jarring when initially reading it for the first time.
/and so on and so forth
It is a different narrative track from the power fantasy that Destiny tends to give off, which is a nice change of pace.
One quick question though: are you intentionally writing this from the standpoint of an omniscient narrator? Because it seems like the narrative focus isn't just on Dimitri in the same scene. For example:
It makes it seem as though 'Dimitri' is thinking of 'my Eliksni', even though the context indicate it belongs to the retreating Captain. Similarly:
Windsor-2's name (and status as an Exo) is revealed via narration, but Dimitri has no context to place that via dialogue or anything. The new Hunter's identity is made known to the reader, but Dimitri has no way of knowing it within the actual story itself thus far. In like manner, the italicized thoughts on the bottom are - in context - from Windsor-2, but the focus of the narration still appears to be Dimitri, so it's somewhat jarring when initially reading it for the first time.
/and so on and so forth
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Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Oh yes, I very much like writing as an Omniscient narrator. Quite handily feeds my god complex-(ahem) sorry, I mean it gives me loads more room to do stuff. To my mind, that's all quite clear to me, but then again I'm not "people."
Thank you for being kind enough to point that out. If this is a very real problem, how should I remedy it, may I ask? Just change around a few words to clarify who is thinking or speaking and who is not?
Ultra Sonic 007
Trying to keep things simple~
- Location
- Colorado
Since you're going for omniscient narrator, it would be simpler to just have a few word/narration changes to make sure character thoughts are inherently clear as to who they belong to. In other words, treat it as you would dialogue.
And be on the lookout to make sure our plucky protagonist doesn't refer to characters by name if they haven't been introduced formally.
Dimitri: So Windsor-2, what now?
Windsor-2: ...how do you know my name?
Dimitri: ...uh-
Windsor-2: ARE YOU A MIND READER??
- Location
- Can't read map
Dimitri: Well... there is Windsor-2 floating above you in my HUD. But what kind of name is that? Codename? Team member 2 of group Windsor? ... Why are you looking at me like that?
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Right ho! Thanks, Ultra, I'll set to putting that right immediately...
be on the lookout to make sure our plucky protagonist doesn't refer to characters by name if they haven't been introduced formally.
Dimitri: So Windsor-2, what now?
Windsor-2: ...how do you know my name?
Dimitri: ...uh-
Windsor-2: ARE YOU A MIND READER??
Now I assure you, as terrible as I am at writing, even I wouldn't make that mistake...at least...I bloody well hope not...
3: The Skull Taker's Lair
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Sorry about the wait, I've really been terrible with updating for the past few months. I've also made one or two changes to the previous chapter, in so far as this is where Windsor-2's name is properly revealed. Enjoy!
----------------------------
The journey across the Cosmodrome was made with all due haste and as much stealth as could be mustered. Their destination, according to this man, was a section of heavily reinforced Wall he'd yet to see.
The other Guardian darted ahead, his feet treading on the ground much lighter than his own. Whereas despite his best efforts he could still hear the crunch of boots in snow, his compatriot was impossibly quiet, as if he were walking on air.
"Testing, testing, one, two, three?" Came crackling static of the other Guardian's voice, encrypted over short-range radio.
"I hear you. Thank you for helping me out." Dimitri gave a grateful little salute.
"It's no trouble. Can't leave newbies running around by themselves, it would be damned irresponsible." His new friend metaphorically handwaved that away.
"God, he sounds like he's fresh off his mum's tits." The Hunter's Ghost muttered with disgust and disapproval.
"Is that your Ghost?" The young man gingerly asked. He'd so many questions that needed answering, but he kept in mind how easy it was to get on other's nerves and thus kept his inquiries to a minimum.
"Yes, his name is Reginald and he shouldn't be on this line." There was interference with the connection for a moment, like someone putting the phone down to deal with issues on the other end. "Sorted. Where did you resurrect, chum?"
"My Ghost brought me back just beyond the wall, on the highway."
"On the highway? Bloody hell, you'd have had to fight your way through the Wall. No wonder the Fallen knew where you were..."
"The Wall is their stronghold?"
"Oh yes. Been that way for a while now, Riksis is a canny bugger. He actually understands strategy and tactics which is a damnable shame."
"That's where the ship is?" Dimitri felt his chest tighten.
"Correct again, alas. Don't worry though, people who last more than five minutes after rising out here aren't half bad. If we get you to the City, you'll go far." The Hunter encouraged him. In a situation like this, the last thing the lad needed was demoralization.
"Really?" Blinking in surprise, the inexperienced Guardian was unsure what to make of that.
"Yes indeed." His escort confirmed.
"Oh…thank you."
"Save it for later."
They darted through rusting buildings to keep cover, constantly alert. And with good reason, for Skiff patrols and exceedingly large, bulbous, spider like vehicles with massive guns on their top swept through the area on patrol.
Inside what seemed to be a small office block, the Hunter called them to a halt. Dimitri did as he was told without question, knowing his survival likely rested on doing just that.
"What is it?" He whispered.
"There's a lot of them and I don't want us to be detected here." His friend answered, quickly and quietly peaking at the outside world through a broken window.
During this moment of laxity, the Russian couldn't help but feel envious of the other Guardian's armour. It looked so much more advanced, strong and reliable, whilst his own seemed to be expertly crafted paper mache.
What's he wearing? He telepathically inquired.
His Ghost, having sat dormant for a while, gave the Hunter a quick once over. "A very fine set of Hunter Armour. Designed entirely to be lightweight and allow maximum freedom of movement. It's got the colours of the Future War Cult…give me a moment." The little machine ran through its database as fast as it could. "Cover of no Tomorrows…that's his helmet, only the War Cult make that. A Sinaa Lamprey 1.0, chest piece, heavily modified. Same model for his gauntlets and leg armour. The cape is nothing special, but it seems well worn. All in all, an experienced and well-equipped Guardian."
We lucked out with this one, didn't we?
"Please don't say that. We just finished our run of bad luck, don't want to start another."
"It'll take a while for them to move by. We'll stay here for a few minutes." The Hunter quietly sat down, waving his hand for his charge to do the same. Letting his legs fold in on themselves, the younger Guardian could feel the vibrations of Fallen heavy armour stomping past.
Dear God, what a monster.
"It's called a Walker. The Fallen use them as tanks, or something close to it."
Tanks? Wouldn't want to see a division of those coming at me.
"…be thankful the Devils don't have those anymore."
What? Divisions, are you serious!?
"Yes. About three hundred of them nearly smashed through our lines at Twilight Gap…"
"Goodness gracious, how rude of me." The more experienced Guardian tutted, as if he'd forgotten something simple. "I haven't asked your name. Who are you?"
"Oh…um…my name is Dimitri. Dimitri Mendevev." The young man in question stammered, taken aback by this politeness.
"Windsor-2. Exo Hunter extraordinaire, great and glorious pain in the Fallen's arse, and the best marksman this side of the Caucasus at your service." "Windsor" offered a hand.
"Damn good to meet you, Windsor-2." Dimitri took his hand and shook it gratefully. After all, he owed his new life to this man.
"A pleasure to meet you too, Mendevev." Windsor-2 relinquished his grasp.
They stayed that way for a while, sitting in silence, waiting for the opportunity to move again. In the meantime, the Russian's curiosity had been piqued. He'd initially dismissed the thought as preposterous, but then that strong, near mechanical grip convinced him, especially on top of that simply word.
Exo.
"You're an Exo." A tingle shot up Dimitri's spine.
"Yes? And? Can't be that mythical." Windsor chuckled.
"No, I mean…I thought you were just a theory. Transferring a human soul into a frame…Clovis Bray bragged about it but I never believed…" The younger Guardian bit his tongue when the cloaked warrior slowly fixed him with a stare.
"How the hell do you know who Clovis Bray are?" The Hunter's electronic voice was low but not dangerous.
"How can I not? Their merchandise was everywhere, half my friends wanted to go and work for them, and they were financing colonies. At least…in my time." Dimitri frowned, ruminating on just how much time had passed. Clovis Bray would be a name only ardent historians of this age knew, even then it would be a shaky sort of knowledge.
"My God…you're from the Collapse." Windsor's mechanical jaw dropped. "You've been asleep for a long time, Mendevev. Don't let Master Rahool know, he won't stop bombarding you with questions."
"Yeah, I feel like it…who's Master Rahool?"
"Sort of like a Magical Space Archaeologist. Too curious for his own good in my opinion, not to mention a bit boring, but a nice chap all the same."
The child of long lost Russia nodded, not quite understanding. Before he could press the matter however, the elder Guardian inched his head upwards to look out the broken window. Snatching a quick look at the Fallen, he darted back down.
The enemy had almost finished their sweep. Whilst he'd little doubt he could take the Walker and its entire escort of troops, Windsor didn't want to risk Dimitri.
Young Guardians needed to have time to train and adjust to this strange new world. To throw them instantly into combat was downright irresponsible as far as he was concerned.
They continued to wait whilst the Eliskni heavy platoon finished its patrol. The House of Devils had a strange sort of discipline, one brought about by its zealotry and fanaticism. Even without a Kell and half their numbers being lost at Twilight Gap, they were formidable as ever.
Eventually, the insectoid aliens vanished around a corner. The sound of marching Fallen and a stomping Walker finally faded, leaving Windsor and Dimitri alone.
"If they weren't Devils, I'd be worrying about a few Dregs lagging behind." Reginald mused.
Hmm...sounds clear. Windsor hummed.
"Are you sure?"
Yes. Now shut up and let me concentrate.
"Love you too, cum stain."
"They've moved on, let's go." He gestured for them to continue their sprint. His charge gingerly nodded, then carefully and quietly moved out from cover with him.
They shifted uncomfortably, giving thanks to their Machine Mothers they were not the focus of their charge's wrath. The Archon's Guard felt nothing but sympathy for their brethren who escaped "the Windsor's" onslaught, knowing these sorry survivors had something infinitely more terrifying to face: Archon Riksis himself.
What they stood guard around in this room, illuminated by a shaft of light through the ceiling, was a throne made of skulls both human and alien. The one who sat upon it scowled down upon all beneath him.
Riksis was among the largest Fallen alive, having lived for thousands of years, being spirited away as a child from burning Eliksis so long ago. With enough ether an Eliksni could theoretically live forever, this one hoping to prove that theory correct.
With his horned helm on his head, and scorch cannon leaning against his throne, Riksis was a frightening sight for anyone sane. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room as his enraged hand crushed one of the throne's skulls.
Not even looking at a favoured treasure, the ship of a Guardian ripped down from the sky, would alleviate his wrath. The failure of his subordinates in bringing him the head of a young "Wolf-thief" was absolute and unforgiveable, enough to tempt him to order their deaths.
In front of the Archon stood his Barons. The hierarchy of the House of Devils didn't usually meet, only rarely would they all come together. With Aksis delving into secrets that many Fallen felt he shouldn't, this placed Riksis in temporary command of the House.
It was still a balancing act with the four Barons of course, his strength, size and intelligence only just keeping them in order. He had to, for their allegiance faltering could bring the House down.
Above them all, was their Grand Machine Mother: Sepiks Prime. Servitors was what the Thieves called them, robotic beings which produced ether, the very lifeblood of his race. What they thought to be simply another tool of survival.
How little they know...they're our mothers. They love us dearly, regardless of our rank, and so we do the same in return. The Fallen Archon inwardly snarled.
"Gildeks should consider himself fortunate. I would tear him limb from limb if he was before me now." Riksis growled in the pre-historic tongue of the Eliksni.
"To be fair, Archon, Gildeks paid for it with his life." Taliks chirped.
"Indeed. Now however, we must attend to the selection of a new Baron. I believe Captain Raksis would be most apt for the position-" Baron Maliks advised, only for Riksis to glower at him.
"No. We must deal with the Thieves who have slighted our House. Every dead Guardian is another step to the destruction of their wretched hive."
Maliks forced down a sigh, having long abandoned trying to teach Riksis complex strategy. "That is true, Archon. But there are no Houses capable of toppling the Thieves and reclaiming the Great Machine at this moment. We barely scratch out an existence in these wastes, Winter skulks on Venus hoarding knowledge at the mercy of the Reef and the Ishtarians, Scars are a roving band of thugs, Rain hides behind Kings on the moons of Saturn, Judgement kowtows to that Queen, and Wolves is shattered and leaderless. If we are to have any hope of survival, let alone reclaim what the Whirlwind took, we must consolidate and plan."
"Do not lecture me on our position, Maliks!" Riksis barked. "You were not at Twilight gap, I was. I know the strength of their defences. However...our Thieves aren't currently behind their walls. The young wolf has no way to escape my domain and no doubt the Windsor will refuse to abandon him. So we shall avenge our comrade's death, then see to matters of succession."
"And what does our Grand Machine Mother think?" Baron Sorsiks gazed up at the great sphere covered in armour, save for its eye. It glowed a peaceful blue, betraying a benevolent nature.
"I wish for Gildeks to be avenged, but not for any more of my children's lives to be thrown away." It said, sadness in its synthetic tone.
"Then no more shall be lost. Locate them, then pound them from the skies. A squadron of Skiffs should be more than enough for that." The Archon nodded at his Barons. "Do not fail me."
"Thy will be done, Archon!" The Barons bowed, then briskly walked away.
"That's a hell of a lot of movement...are those-" Windsor-2 stopped mid-sentence, squinting through the scope of his rifle. Four massive figures were crossing the open, snow covered field in front of the Devils' stronghold. The hundred or so scattered Fallen on guard duty dropped to their knees as they passed, on their way to four Skiffs which had recently landed.
"What? What is it?" Dimitri crawled up next to him on his belly, briefly admiring the sight of majestic yet hastily patched up Wall.
"Barons. All of them...that doesn't mean their armies are here mind you. Must be to do with Gildeks."
"Are they a problem?"
"Not too much. Three of them are already heading off, one of them is looking like..." The Hunter squinted again, then sighed. "Yes, that's Maliks. He's leading his troops. Not to worry though, I don't even their Prime Servitor knows we're attacking here."
"A Servitor is this large spherical Fallen A.I. They create ether, which is pretty much the lifeblood of the species and make their Larvae. As you can imagine, the Fallen revere them." The young Guardian's Ghost answered his question before he'd time to ask it.
You're getting good at this. He smiled.
"Thank you!"
"Couple more minutes, then we move in. Do you want me to go over the plan again?" Windsor was keen to have no misunderstandings.
"Yes." Dimitri nodded earnestly. As a University student in a previous life, he'd nodded off to sleep in far too many lectures. He needed to memorize this, his life was at stake.
"Righty-ho. We'll begin with me spending ten seconds on putting down whatever snipers or surveillance they have. Once that's over, we charge in and stop for nothing, do you understand?" The elder Guardian emphasized those last words.
His charge nodded again.
"Splendid." Windsor smiled slightly, the lad was catching on. "Once we're inside, follow my lead and if we're lucky I should be able to get you into Riksis's throne room relatively quickly. If not...that's quite a large amount of dead Fallen."
The young Guardian couldn't help but let his mouth curl into a smile. The Hunter's words were so full of confidence, it was as if he'd done something like this before.
The Fallen Skiffs roared away, en-route to the fortresses of the Barons who resided onboard. All except Maliks, who was to assume a hovering position some miles away, the last recorded sight of contact with the Thief Wolves.
He'd never been friends per say with Gildeks, but his was a grievous loss to the House. No warrior, but a damn good politician, one who'd helped steer Devils to survival more times than any could count. He was the first to raise concerns over Aksis's obsessions, after all.
"Open up communications to all my forces in the vicinity." Maliks chirped at a Captain.
"Yes, Baron." The smaller Eliksni nodded and established a comm link with some five thousand soldiers.
"Brothers, we have been tasked with avenging the death of Baron Gildeks and many dozens of our siblings. All units will converge on the last sight of contact, we will sweep the area, we will find where these thieves have gone, we will track them down and we shall present their heads to the Archon. Is that understood?" The most militarily minded of all the Devil Barons commanded stoically.
"Yes, Baron! For the Larvae yet to be born, for the future to be reclaimed!" Came the resounding response.
"Going...going..." Windsor-2 whispered quietly until the skiff and its escorts disappeared from sight. "Gone. Are you ready, Mendevev?" He cocked his rifle.
"Close as I'll ever be." Dimitri humourlessly sighed.
"When we get out of this, we'll get you some better equipment. I promise." His Ghost reassured. That was still a big "if" though, even with the older and more experienced Guardian at their side.
"Right ho-" Windsor-2 levelled his rifle at the hapless Eliksni sentries and snipers. "Ten seconds start now."
"And for god's sake, don't miss." Reginald telepathically muttered.
Shut up. The Exo Hunter inwardly hissed, squeezing the trigger. As the shot crashed out and rolled over the landscape, a Vandal's head exploded into gore. Less than half a second later so did another, and then another.
The recently revived young man gawked at how quickly Windsor put down his prey, barely noticing the Devils scatter. Some Captain's roared at their troops to get back in formation, only for one or two of their heads to evaporate into blue mist.
"Ten seconds up, go!" Windsor barked. Devils Dawn disappeared into flakes of light and a smaller scoped rifle replaced it.
In the blink of an eye, he was already thundering down their little vantage point's slope, firing away with his beloved and hard-won rifle: The Wounded. A Captain's shields evaporated in seconds before two holes were blown through his chest.
"Shouldn't we be..." Dimitri's Ghost awkwardly asked.
"Chyort!" He yelped, shaking himself out of his stupor and charging off after his escort. With experience he'd quickly gained, the young man opened up with his Khvostov on a group of Dregs trying to flank or move around Windsor. He scythed them down with ease, then barrelled into a Vandal, punching its face into hideous mush.
"Keep pushing for the wall! Stay close to me!" The Exo barked. Dimitri obliged and pounded in the direction of his comrade, picking off any stragglers the British robot left behind.
The Fallen were still in absolute chaos, reeling from this surprise attack. Already, however, calls for reinforcements were going out. Maliks was making haste back to the Wall as fast as he could and Riksis was now storming to the battlefield, seething with rage.
"These thieves dare come to my home!? Insolent worms, I shall break them with my bare hands!" The giant Fallen, flanked by his personal guard, stormed through the decrepit hallways of what was once grand, scorch cannon clenched tightly.
Even then, so enraptured by hate, he still possessed a modicum of sense. He'd some of his best snipers to guard Sepiks Prime with their lives, as she took precedent, always and without exception.
Windsor-2 knew he had to be quick. Time was running out, the possibility of tangling with the Archon himself was growing ever more likely. Yet his plan seemed to be working seamlessly: scatter the Fallen patrols and sentries, lure more forces out from the wall, then get inside.
If I can just get the lad to the ship, slipping out of here will be easy. He blew off the head of another Vandal.
"Are you sure poor old Alesti will mind you pilfering her pride and joy? Respect for the dead, come on..." Reginald commented, uncomfortably.
Pfft, pissing off Riksis and saving the life of a newly risen Guardian all in one, it's exactly what she'd want...I miss her too.
"I know. Fucking Fallen."
The Wounded barked with ferocity, striking down alien after alien through the head. It had taken centuries of practice in the art of death to bring him to this level, where on instinct he could kill in a heartbeat. By the time he lowered his feared weapon, some three dozen Fallen lay dead.
It was not without reason that Windsor-2 was among the most revered members of the War Cult.
The shadow of the Wall soon covered him, and the Exo found himself in the heart of Riksis' Empire. Looking behind, he could see Dimitri lumbering after him. Slow yet powerful and easily mopping up whatever the Hunter had left behind, the boy was clearly no incompetent.
He's not bad at this, I'll give him that.
"Could still be better."
Couldn't we all…shit.
A Skiff decloaked at that moment and trained its weapons on the young Guardian. As if to make things worse, a Walker advanced over the ridge of the hill they'd hidden on, followed by dozens of Fallen soldiers.
The Wounded dissolved into motes of light, to be replaced by Devil's Dawn. Slowly but precisely, Windsor dropped to one knee, brought the scope up to his eye, and zeroed in on the cockpit.
"No troubles with the wind. Clear shot." His Ghost relayed.
Acknowledging without a word, the British Exo pulled the trigger. The armour piercing, infused with Light bullet, exploded forth from the barrel, hurtling towards the unfortunate Eliksni pilot.
Skiffs could cloak but they didn't have strong shields at all. Hence how that bullet smashed through metal armour…and cracked open an alien skull.
The Fallen troop carrier careened off course and fell upon the Walker. A ball of yellow flame soon consumed them and the Eliksni platoon moving in support.
"Riksis is going to be so pissed."
I think we're a bit past pissed now, Regi.
A moment later, Dimitri joined him in the Wall, his posture entirely cheerful. "Well that wasn't so hard, was it?" He said cheerfully.
"Hmm." Windsor grunted, grabbing the young man by the shoulder and hauling him into the depths of the Skull Taker's Lair. This was done with haste, as the damaged yet still operational Walker was getting back up.
If one didn't know their way around, it would be all too easy to get lost. But the Exo had slunk through this place too many times to count, to steal, to assassinate or simply for the thrill of it.
Eventually, Windsor relinquished his grip on Dimitri's shoulder and moved at a slower pace. Barrelling through this place when one didn't know what was around the corner was the height of folly. Though he was an individual whom Lady Luck had taken for a pet, the Exo Hunter didn't want to chance it.
For all he knew, they could run straight into Riksis and be torn limb from limb. Though they were both Guardians, immortal and near undefeatable warriors of Light called back from the dark oblivion by the Traveller itself, this was still the Skull Taker.
The two continued to navigate the labyrinth of dank, grey, rotting and dark corridors, ancient to those alive today, with as much haste as caution would allow. It seemed like an eternity before Dimitri felt he had to ask as to their whereabouts.
"How close are we?" He muttered quietly, routinely looking over his shoulder.
"Not far now…just another turn and…" The moment Windsor finished, they came upon a set of iron doors with Fallen glyphs and the House of Devils' symbol carved into them. One would note however, that despite the Fallen's best attempt to make them ornate as possible, they could not shake off the crude nature most of their constructs possessed.
What more do you expect from the equivalent of bloody Space Hyenas?
"More like Scavengers. Besides, be careful. When you get pissy, especially when it comes to Fallen, you get wrapped up in your own little world. Guardians tend to die when that happens."
Shut up, Reggie.
"What now?" Observing the final obstacle between him and his route to safety, Dimitri shifted anxiously. The creatures that wanted him dead could burst around that corner at any moment, leaving him no hope of escape.
"Oh, that's easy." A massive rocket launcher flickered into Windsor's hands. "We blow it off its hinges."
"Are…are you sure? Won't that…attract attention?"
"We were always going to attract attention. If Riksis hasn't figured out what we're up to, he soon will. Anyways, this is just his throne room. I'd worry if it were Sepiks' sanctum, but it's not. Put your fingers in your ears-" the Hunter levelled his weapon at the door. "-this will be loud…"
Riksis gazed at the scene of destruction and death. Dozens of his Fallen dead, a Skiff lost, a Walker damaged, it was all maddening. As if to add insult to injury, it seemed this wasn't a large-scale thief attack, just one or two lone Wolf Thieves. As he took a closer look at the corpses, anger threatened to boil over at any moment.
I know these injuries. Headshots, perfect headshots. The work of a Hunter…and there are few who would dare attack my domain, let alone-A distant explosion caused the heads of hundreds of Eliksni to snap up, and for Riksis to whirl around.
As his Dregs, Vandals and Captains surged back into their great fortress, Riksis roared in his guttural alien tongue.
"Windsor!"
"I think they know we're here."
I somewhat guessed.
"Move, quickly." Windsor-2 hissed at Dimitri, backing into the throne room of Archon Riksis. His charge only just managed to force himself into action, mind boggled by the sight that lay before him.
The floor was coated in thousands of skulls.
Mostly they seemed to be human, with one or two alien looking ones scattered amongst the disturbing carpet. The room itself was large, its walls completely taken up by bulbous, alien, glowing blue computing. Once this housed a generator, but the Eliksni had ripped it out long ago to replace it with their own, superior tech.
A great gash in the ceiling caused by rust and age allowed sunlight to stab in and illuminate the Skull Taker's seat of power. Like the rest of the floor it was attached to, the throne was covered in skulls. The chair itself was twice Dimitri's size, built to accommodate something gargantuan.
"Fallen can grow to immense heights. As an Archon, Riksis is about twenty-four feet." His Ghost answered his unsaid question.
Twenty-four…God, how does anyone stand against that? Staring dumbfounded, the inexperienced Guardian could scarcely imagine something that large.
"Usually not many do. That throne…at least a tenth of it is made up of Guardian skulls."
Dimitri could hear the sadness in the little machine's voice and decided to not press the question, as it sounded like it had known a few of these people. And from the looks Windsor-2 was giving the horrendous chair…yes, he knew who a few of these poor souls were.
"Well, there's your way out." The Exo nodded at something above the throne. So consumed by his uneasiness, the young man had failed to notice the ship hanging from the ceiling. It looked hammered together, as if it were mass produced, its central triangular cockpit flanked by yellow cylinders that served as engines.
Immediately, Dimitri's Ghost materialized in a flash. It flew up to the old craft and began scanning it intently.
"Arcadia class jump ship, registration number…7785?" It paused in surprise. "This is Alesti-90's ship. I'd have thought the Fallen would've pulled it apart for scrap-"
"They did that to its owner but kept this as a trophy. Riksis does love his ornaments." Windsor muttered viciously, taking a kneeling position and levelling The Wounded at the ruined doors.
"Motion tracker's picking up about two or three hundred Fallen coming our way…no, no, I lie, four hundred." Reginald unhelpfully informed.
"Help get that ship back online. Kid, with me. We'll have to hold them until our Ghosts can make your way out work properly." The Hunter beckoned for his charge to join him. Reginald materialised and hovered over to the Ghost without a name.
"Let's see if you're any good, Sunshine." The Red machine said, condescendingly.
"I've been doing this for five hundred years. I'm not a newbie." The slightly inexperienced A.I grumbled, slightly hurt by those words.
"That's what all the young uns say. Henceforth, your name is Sunshine."
"Whatever. Let's get on with this."
The Russian did as he was told and took a kneeling position beside the British Exo, his Kvostov held more firmly than it had ever been before. He almost laughed at used to this he was getting, after the events of a mere day.
"Breathe…relax." Windsor reassured. He well understood the fears of newly risen Guardians, having obviously been one himself once. The lad needed a few rounds in the crucible and a trip to Banshee-44's stall before he should even consider going on a patrol. "On my command." The Exo's metal finger curled around the trigger.
"What happens when we have to reload?" Dimitri whispered, resolute but afraid.
"Rush them, but do not go beyond that door."
The ground shook as from the darkness dozens of Dregs, Vandals and Captains burst forth, chittering and snarling in their alien tongues.
"Open fire!" Windsor roared. The human weapons spat spiteful hot lead coated in the essence of a god, cutting down dozens of Eliksni. Captains' shields flashed then failed, followed by sick thuds and their chests or heads exploding into blue gore.
The barrels of the Guardians' weapons heated up quickly, yet they were altered by Light and therefore could fundamentally not fail. By the Traveller's will, the projectiles of its defenders would strike down its enemies.
However, inevitably, ammunition ran out. The time to change clip had come, but they'd little time to do it. So the two super-human undead rushed forwards, Windsor's rifle evaporating into motes of light, whilst Dimitri reloaded as he ran.
Soon enough his Kvostov was barking again, directly into the faces of the Aliens that wanted him dead. His gun held one handed, his fist free to swing, he annihilated scores of Fallen with his power. To his left, Dimitri could scarcely comprehend the golden revolver that had materialised in Windsor's hand. With practised precision, it unleashed jets of golden sunlight that burned its unfortunate targets away.
This…this is the Light? What a power...how's the ship coming along? He experimentally directed at his Ghost, wondering if they still had a link.
"Almost there, give us a little more time." It responded, sounding stressed.
I'll try my best.
A Captain had levelled his scorch canon and was firing into the melee. His own Dregs were incinerated, becoming useful shields for the two Guardians. Dimitri emptied a third of a clip into the large Alien's shields, then administered the coup de grace via a strike to the chest.
Riksis' obsession with this Young Wolf had cost him two hundred and fifty Devils.
"Done, we're ready to go!" The sound of engines whining as they heated up caught the attention of both Guardians.
"Move, I'll cover you!" Windsor barked, incinerating another hapless Dreg.
"What…what about you!?" The inexperienced Guardian cried, realising his new friend had no observable way out of this.
"Oh, I'll be fine. I've slipped out of far worse than this, now go before the Fallen bring in their big guns!"
"But-"
"Now, Dimitri!" Irritation seeped into that synthetic voice.
Dimitri looked on despairingly, then nodded after a moment of deliberation. He had to force down memories of leaving his dead father lying face down in the tarmac. Pelting to the decrepit looking ship, fighting tears that threatened to come forth as he left someone else behind, he could see Reginald flying back to his Guardian.
Good luck you two…and thank you. Soon he was directly beneath the vessel, only now thinking of how he was going to get onboard.
"Don't worry, I've got this!" His Ghost said with gusto.
Suddenly, the young man found himself within a tight fitting yet comfortable cockpit, single control stick lying between his legs, hud displaying power levels and the outside world.
"Wha…what?" He stammered.
"I just transmatted you. Hang on."
Dimitri was forced into his chair when the Jumpship's engines roared to life. Tearing itself free of the wires which held it captive, the dagger shaped vessel angled itself at the great hole in the ceiling and shot away.
The sheer power of its thrusters smashed everything below, sending skulls and Fallen flying everywhere, even demolishing the Archon's throne. This provided a moment or two of breathing space for the Hunter.
See you later, lad. Windsor-2 grinned.
"Umm, looks like Riksis is going to be here in a moment." Reginald muttered, a huge red blob appearing on motion tracker.
Ah, took him long enough. Shall we disappear?
"Thought you'd never ask. Activating cloak."
And like that, the legendary Exo vanished.
Sitting on a rooftop not far from the wall, a lone figure rested on one knee. A pair of electronic blue eyes scanned the area, amused at what a mess the Devils were making. They simply had no idea how to handle an incursion into the heart of their territory, flapping like startled birds in response.
There was a roar, causing her to lift her gaze. A Jumpship long thought lost roared into the heavens, finally free after fifty years. The female Exo knew it would break the stratosphere in a matter of seconds, the Fallen had no hope of catching it.
This "Stranger" chuckled to herself.
"A fine start, Young Wolf. Not even a day risen and you've angered one of the most powerful Fallen in the system. Yours will be a career to watch..." Shaking her head, this mysterious individual faded away, as if she'd never been there in the first place.
The Eliksni left in the throne room cowered in terror when their Archon stormed in, flanked by his personal Guard. Looking around, he saw the heart of his Empire defiled and ruined.
Riksis gazed up at the blue sky, seeing his greatest prize flying away in the hands of the insolent Thief who'd vandalized his glorious throne room. The other Guardian, the accursed Windsor, had likely long slunk off by now.
Archon Riksis, one of the largest and most feared Fallen in the system, the stuff of children's cautionary bedtime stories with nothing to take his fury out on, threw his head back and screamed.
----------------------------
The journey across the Cosmodrome was made with all due haste and as much stealth as could be mustered. Their destination, according to this man, was a section of heavily reinforced Wall he'd yet to see.
The other Guardian darted ahead, his feet treading on the ground much lighter than his own. Whereas despite his best efforts he could still hear the crunch of boots in snow, his compatriot was impossibly quiet, as if he were walking on air.
"Testing, testing, one, two, three?" Came crackling static of the other Guardian's voice, encrypted over short-range radio.
"I hear you. Thank you for helping me out." Dimitri gave a grateful little salute.
"It's no trouble. Can't leave newbies running around by themselves, it would be damned irresponsible." His new friend metaphorically handwaved that away.
"God, he sounds like he's fresh off his mum's tits." The Hunter's Ghost muttered with disgust and disapproval.
"Is that your Ghost?" The young man gingerly asked. He'd so many questions that needed answering, but he kept in mind how easy it was to get on other's nerves and thus kept his inquiries to a minimum.
"Yes, his name is Reginald and he shouldn't be on this line." There was interference with the connection for a moment, like someone putting the phone down to deal with issues on the other end. "Sorted. Where did you resurrect, chum?"
"My Ghost brought me back just beyond the wall, on the highway."
"On the highway? Bloody hell, you'd have had to fight your way through the Wall. No wonder the Fallen knew where you were..."
"The Wall is their stronghold?"
"Oh yes. Been that way for a while now, Riksis is a canny bugger. He actually understands strategy and tactics which is a damnable shame."
"That's where the ship is?" Dimitri felt his chest tighten.
"Correct again, alas. Don't worry though, people who last more than five minutes after rising out here aren't half bad. If we get you to the City, you'll go far." The Hunter encouraged him. In a situation like this, the last thing the lad needed was demoralization.
"Really?" Blinking in surprise, the inexperienced Guardian was unsure what to make of that.
"Yes indeed." His escort confirmed.
"Oh…thank you."
"Save it for later."
They darted through rusting buildings to keep cover, constantly alert. And with good reason, for Skiff patrols and exceedingly large, bulbous, spider like vehicles with massive guns on their top swept through the area on patrol.
Inside what seemed to be a small office block, the Hunter called them to a halt. Dimitri did as he was told without question, knowing his survival likely rested on doing just that.
"What is it?" He whispered.
"There's a lot of them and I don't want us to be detected here." His friend answered, quickly and quietly peaking at the outside world through a broken window.
During this moment of laxity, the Russian couldn't help but feel envious of the other Guardian's armour. It looked so much more advanced, strong and reliable, whilst his own seemed to be expertly crafted paper mache.
What's he wearing? He telepathically inquired.
His Ghost, having sat dormant for a while, gave the Hunter a quick once over. "A very fine set of Hunter Armour. Designed entirely to be lightweight and allow maximum freedom of movement. It's got the colours of the Future War Cult…give me a moment." The little machine ran through its database as fast as it could. "Cover of no Tomorrows…that's his helmet, only the War Cult make that. A Sinaa Lamprey 1.0, chest piece, heavily modified. Same model for his gauntlets and leg armour. The cape is nothing special, but it seems well worn. All in all, an experienced and well-equipped Guardian."
We lucked out with this one, didn't we?
"Please don't say that. We just finished our run of bad luck, don't want to start another."
"It'll take a while for them to move by. We'll stay here for a few minutes." The Hunter quietly sat down, waving his hand for his charge to do the same. Letting his legs fold in on themselves, the younger Guardian could feel the vibrations of Fallen heavy armour stomping past.
Dear God, what a monster.
"It's called a Walker. The Fallen use them as tanks, or something close to it."
Tanks? Wouldn't want to see a division of those coming at me.
"…be thankful the Devils don't have those anymore."
What? Divisions, are you serious!?
"Yes. About three hundred of them nearly smashed through our lines at Twilight Gap…"
"Goodness gracious, how rude of me." The more experienced Guardian tutted, as if he'd forgotten something simple. "I haven't asked your name. Who are you?"
"Oh…um…my name is Dimitri. Dimitri Mendevev." The young man in question stammered, taken aback by this politeness.
"Windsor-2. Exo Hunter extraordinaire, great and glorious pain in the Fallen's arse, and the best marksman this side of the Caucasus at your service." "Windsor" offered a hand.
"Damn good to meet you, Windsor-2." Dimitri took his hand and shook it gratefully. After all, he owed his new life to this man.
"A pleasure to meet you too, Mendevev." Windsor-2 relinquished his grasp.
They stayed that way for a while, sitting in silence, waiting for the opportunity to move again. In the meantime, the Russian's curiosity had been piqued. He'd initially dismissed the thought as preposterous, but then that strong, near mechanical grip convinced him, especially on top of that simply word.
Exo.
"You're an Exo." A tingle shot up Dimitri's spine.
"Yes? And? Can't be that mythical." Windsor chuckled.
"No, I mean…I thought you were just a theory. Transferring a human soul into a frame…Clovis Bray bragged about it but I never believed…" The younger Guardian bit his tongue when the cloaked warrior slowly fixed him with a stare.
"How the hell do you know who Clovis Bray are?" The Hunter's electronic voice was low but not dangerous.
"How can I not? Their merchandise was everywhere, half my friends wanted to go and work for them, and they were financing colonies. At least…in my time." Dimitri frowned, ruminating on just how much time had passed. Clovis Bray would be a name only ardent historians of this age knew, even then it would be a shaky sort of knowledge.
"My God…you're from the Collapse." Windsor's mechanical jaw dropped. "You've been asleep for a long time, Mendevev. Don't let Master Rahool know, he won't stop bombarding you with questions."
"Yeah, I feel like it…who's Master Rahool?"
"Sort of like a Magical Space Archaeologist. Too curious for his own good in my opinion, not to mention a bit boring, but a nice chap all the same."
The child of long lost Russia nodded, not quite understanding. Before he could press the matter however, the elder Guardian inched his head upwards to look out the broken window. Snatching a quick look at the Fallen, he darted back down.
The enemy had almost finished their sweep. Whilst he'd little doubt he could take the Walker and its entire escort of troops, Windsor didn't want to risk Dimitri.
Young Guardians needed to have time to train and adjust to this strange new world. To throw them instantly into combat was downright irresponsible as far as he was concerned.
They continued to wait whilst the Eliskni heavy platoon finished its patrol. The House of Devils had a strange sort of discipline, one brought about by its zealotry and fanaticism. Even without a Kell and half their numbers being lost at Twilight Gap, they were formidable as ever.
Eventually, the insectoid aliens vanished around a corner. The sound of marching Fallen and a stomping Walker finally faded, leaving Windsor and Dimitri alone.
"If they weren't Devils, I'd be worrying about a few Dregs lagging behind." Reginald mused.
Hmm...sounds clear. Windsor hummed.
"Are you sure?"
Yes. Now shut up and let me concentrate.
"Love you too, cum stain."
"They've moved on, let's go." He gestured for them to continue their sprint. His charge gingerly nodded, then carefully and quietly moved out from cover with him.
XXX
They shifted uncomfortably, giving thanks to their Machine Mothers they were not the focus of their charge's wrath. The Archon's Guard felt nothing but sympathy for their brethren who escaped "the Windsor's" onslaught, knowing these sorry survivors had something infinitely more terrifying to face: Archon Riksis himself.
What they stood guard around in this room, illuminated by a shaft of light through the ceiling, was a throne made of skulls both human and alien. The one who sat upon it scowled down upon all beneath him.
Riksis was among the largest Fallen alive, having lived for thousands of years, being spirited away as a child from burning Eliksis so long ago. With enough ether an Eliksni could theoretically live forever, this one hoping to prove that theory correct.
With his horned helm on his head, and scorch cannon leaning against his throne, Riksis was a frightening sight for anyone sane. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room as his enraged hand crushed one of the throne's skulls.
Not even looking at a favoured treasure, the ship of a Guardian ripped down from the sky, would alleviate his wrath. The failure of his subordinates in bringing him the head of a young "Wolf-thief" was absolute and unforgiveable, enough to tempt him to order their deaths.
In front of the Archon stood his Barons. The hierarchy of the House of Devils didn't usually meet, only rarely would they all come together. With Aksis delving into secrets that many Fallen felt he shouldn't, this placed Riksis in temporary command of the House.
It was still a balancing act with the four Barons of course, his strength, size and intelligence only just keeping them in order. He had to, for their allegiance faltering could bring the House down.
Above them all, was their Grand Machine Mother: Sepiks Prime. Servitors was what the Thieves called them, robotic beings which produced ether, the very lifeblood of his race. What they thought to be simply another tool of survival.
How little they know...they're our mothers. They love us dearly, regardless of our rank, and so we do the same in return. The Fallen Archon inwardly snarled.
"Gildeks should consider himself fortunate. I would tear him limb from limb if he was before me now." Riksis growled in the pre-historic tongue of the Eliksni.
"To be fair, Archon, Gildeks paid for it with his life." Taliks chirped.
"Indeed. Now however, we must attend to the selection of a new Baron. I believe Captain Raksis would be most apt for the position-" Baron Maliks advised, only for Riksis to glower at him.
"No. We must deal with the Thieves who have slighted our House. Every dead Guardian is another step to the destruction of their wretched hive."
Maliks forced down a sigh, having long abandoned trying to teach Riksis complex strategy. "That is true, Archon. But there are no Houses capable of toppling the Thieves and reclaiming the Great Machine at this moment. We barely scratch out an existence in these wastes, Winter skulks on Venus hoarding knowledge at the mercy of the Reef and the Ishtarians, Scars are a roving band of thugs, Rain hides behind Kings on the moons of Saturn, Judgement kowtows to that Queen, and Wolves is shattered and leaderless. If we are to have any hope of survival, let alone reclaim what the Whirlwind took, we must consolidate and plan."
"Do not lecture me on our position, Maliks!" Riksis barked. "You were not at Twilight gap, I was. I know the strength of their defences. However...our Thieves aren't currently behind their walls. The young wolf has no way to escape my domain and no doubt the Windsor will refuse to abandon him. So we shall avenge our comrade's death, then see to matters of succession."
"And what does our Grand Machine Mother think?" Baron Sorsiks gazed up at the great sphere covered in armour, save for its eye. It glowed a peaceful blue, betraying a benevolent nature.
"I wish for Gildeks to be avenged, but not for any more of my children's lives to be thrown away." It said, sadness in its synthetic tone.
"Then no more shall be lost. Locate them, then pound them from the skies. A squadron of Skiffs should be more than enough for that." The Archon nodded at his Barons. "Do not fail me."
"Thy will be done, Archon!" The Barons bowed, then briskly walked away.
XXX
"That's a hell of a lot of movement...are those-" Windsor-2 stopped mid-sentence, squinting through the scope of his rifle. Four massive figures were crossing the open, snow covered field in front of the Devils' stronghold. The hundred or so scattered Fallen on guard duty dropped to their knees as they passed, on their way to four Skiffs which had recently landed.
"What? What is it?" Dimitri crawled up next to him on his belly, briefly admiring the sight of majestic yet hastily patched up Wall.
"Barons. All of them...that doesn't mean their armies are here mind you. Must be to do with Gildeks."
"Are they a problem?"
"Not too much. Three of them are already heading off, one of them is looking like..." The Hunter squinted again, then sighed. "Yes, that's Maliks. He's leading his troops. Not to worry though, I don't even their Prime Servitor knows we're attacking here."
"A Servitor is this large spherical Fallen A.I. They create ether, which is pretty much the lifeblood of the species and make their Larvae. As you can imagine, the Fallen revere them." The young Guardian's Ghost answered his question before he'd time to ask it.
You're getting good at this. He smiled.
"Thank you!"
"Couple more minutes, then we move in. Do you want me to go over the plan again?" Windsor was keen to have no misunderstandings.
"Yes." Dimitri nodded earnestly. As a University student in a previous life, he'd nodded off to sleep in far too many lectures. He needed to memorize this, his life was at stake.
"Righty-ho. We'll begin with me spending ten seconds on putting down whatever snipers or surveillance they have. Once that's over, we charge in and stop for nothing, do you understand?" The elder Guardian emphasized those last words.
His charge nodded again.
"Splendid." Windsor smiled slightly, the lad was catching on. "Once we're inside, follow my lead and if we're lucky I should be able to get you into Riksis's throne room relatively quickly. If not...that's quite a large amount of dead Fallen."
The young Guardian couldn't help but let his mouth curl into a smile. The Hunter's words were so full of confidence, it was as if he'd done something like this before.
XXX
The Fallen Skiffs roared away, en-route to the fortresses of the Barons who resided onboard. All except Maliks, who was to assume a hovering position some miles away, the last recorded sight of contact with the Thief Wolves.
He'd never been friends per say with Gildeks, but his was a grievous loss to the House. No warrior, but a damn good politician, one who'd helped steer Devils to survival more times than any could count. He was the first to raise concerns over Aksis's obsessions, after all.
"Open up communications to all my forces in the vicinity." Maliks chirped at a Captain.
"Yes, Baron." The smaller Eliksni nodded and established a comm link with some five thousand soldiers.
"Brothers, we have been tasked with avenging the death of Baron Gildeks and many dozens of our siblings. All units will converge on the last sight of contact, we will sweep the area, we will find where these thieves have gone, we will track them down and we shall present their heads to the Archon. Is that understood?" The most militarily minded of all the Devil Barons commanded stoically.
"Yes, Baron! For the Larvae yet to be born, for the future to be reclaimed!" Came the resounding response.
XXX
"Going...going..." Windsor-2 whispered quietly until the skiff and its escorts disappeared from sight. "Gone. Are you ready, Mendevev?" He cocked his rifle.
"Close as I'll ever be." Dimitri humourlessly sighed.
"When we get out of this, we'll get you some better equipment. I promise." His Ghost reassured. That was still a big "if" though, even with the older and more experienced Guardian at their side.
"Right ho-" Windsor-2 levelled his rifle at the hapless Eliksni sentries and snipers. "Ten seconds start now."
"And for god's sake, don't miss." Reginald telepathically muttered.
Shut up. The Exo Hunter inwardly hissed, squeezing the trigger. As the shot crashed out and rolled over the landscape, a Vandal's head exploded into gore. Less than half a second later so did another, and then another.
The recently revived young man gawked at how quickly Windsor put down his prey, barely noticing the Devils scatter. Some Captain's roared at their troops to get back in formation, only for one or two of their heads to evaporate into blue mist.
"Ten seconds up, go!" Windsor barked. Devils Dawn disappeared into flakes of light and a smaller scoped rifle replaced it.
In the blink of an eye, he was already thundering down their little vantage point's slope, firing away with his beloved and hard-won rifle: The Wounded. A Captain's shields evaporated in seconds before two holes were blown through his chest.
"Shouldn't we be..." Dimitri's Ghost awkwardly asked.
"Chyort!" He yelped, shaking himself out of his stupor and charging off after his escort. With experience he'd quickly gained, the young man opened up with his Khvostov on a group of Dregs trying to flank or move around Windsor. He scythed them down with ease, then barrelled into a Vandal, punching its face into hideous mush.
"Keep pushing for the wall! Stay close to me!" The Exo barked. Dimitri obliged and pounded in the direction of his comrade, picking off any stragglers the British robot left behind.
The Fallen were still in absolute chaos, reeling from this surprise attack. Already, however, calls for reinforcements were going out. Maliks was making haste back to the Wall as fast as he could and Riksis was now storming to the battlefield, seething with rage.
"These thieves dare come to my home!? Insolent worms, I shall break them with my bare hands!" The giant Fallen, flanked by his personal guard, stormed through the decrepit hallways of what was once grand, scorch cannon clenched tightly.
Even then, so enraptured by hate, he still possessed a modicum of sense. He'd some of his best snipers to guard Sepiks Prime with their lives, as she took precedent, always and without exception.
Windsor-2 knew he had to be quick. Time was running out, the possibility of tangling with the Archon himself was growing ever more likely. Yet his plan seemed to be working seamlessly: scatter the Fallen patrols and sentries, lure more forces out from the wall, then get inside.
If I can just get the lad to the ship, slipping out of here will be easy. He blew off the head of another Vandal.
"Are you sure poor old Alesti will mind you pilfering her pride and joy? Respect for the dead, come on..." Reginald commented, uncomfortably.
Pfft, pissing off Riksis and saving the life of a newly risen Guardian all in one, it's exactly what she'd want...I miss her too.
"I know. Fucking Fallen."
The Wounded barked with ferocity, striking down alien after alien through the head. It had taken centuries of practice in the art of death to bring him to this level, where on instinct he could kill in a heartbeat. By the time he lowered his feared weapon, some three dozen Fallen lay dead.
It was not without reason that Windsor-2 was among the most revered members of the War Cult.
The shadow of the Wall soon covered him, and the Exo found himself in the heart of Riksis' Empire. Looking behind, he could see Dimitri lumbering after him. Slow yet powerful and easily mopping up whatever the Hunter had left behind, the boy was clearly no incompetent.
He's not bad at this, I'll give him that.
"Could still be better."
Couldn't we all…shit.
A Skiff decloaked at that moment and trained its weapons on the young Guardian. As if to make things worse, a Walker advanced over the ridge of the hill they'd hidden on, followed by dozens of Fallen soldiers.
The Wounded dissolved into motes of light, to be replaced by Devil's Dawn. Slowly but precisely, Windsor dropped to one knee, brought the scope up to his eye, and zeroed in on the cockpit.
"No troubles with the wind. Clear shot." His Ghost relayed.
Acknowledging without a word, the British Exo pulled the trigger. The armour piercing, infused with Light bullet, exploded forth from the barrel, hurtling towards the unfortunate Eliksni pilot.
Skiffs could cloak but they didn't have strong shields at all. Hence how that bullet smashed through metal armour…and cracked open an alien skull.
The Fallen troop carrier careened off course and fell upon the Walker. A ball of yellow flame soon consumed them and the Eliksni platoon moving in support.
"Riksis is going to be so pissed."
I think we're a bit past pissed now, Regi.
A moment later, Dimitri joined him in the Wall, his posture entirely cheerful. "Well that wasn't so hard, was it?" He said cheerfully.
"Hmm." Windsor grunted, grabbing the young man by the shoulder and hauling him into the depths of the Skull Taker's Lair. This was done with haste, as the damaged yet still operational Walker was getting back up.
If one didn't know their way around, it would be all too easy to get lost. But the Exo had slunk through this place too many times to count, to steal, to assassinate or simply for the thrill of it.
Eventually, Windsor relinquished his grip on Dimitri's shoulder and moved at a slower pace. Barrelling through this place when one didn't know what was around the corner was the height of folly. Though he was an individual whom Lady Luck had taken for a pet, the Exo Hunter didn't want to chance it.
For all he knew, they could run straight into Riksis and be torn limb from limb. Though they were both Guardians, immortal and near undefeatable warriors of Light called back from the dark oblivion by the Traveller itself, this was still the Skull Taker.
The two continued to navigate the labyrinth of dank, grey, rotting and dark corridors, ancient to those alive today, with as much haste as caution would allow. It seemed like an eternity before Dimitri felt he had to ask as to their whereabouts.
"How close are we?" He muttered quietly, routinely looking over his shoulder.
"Not far now…just another turn and…" The moment Windsor finished, they came upon a set of iron doors with Fallen glyphs and the House of Devils' symbol carved into them. One would note however, that despite the Fallen's best attempt to make them ornate as possible, they could not shake off the crude nature most of their constructs possessed.
What more do you expect from the equivalent of bloody Space Hyenas?
"More like Scavengers. Besides, be careful. When you get pissy, especially when it comes to Fallen, you get wrapped up in your own little world. Guardians tend to die when that happens."
Shut up, Reggie.
"What now?" Observing the final obstacle between him and his route to safety, Dimitri shifted anxiously. The creatures that wanted him dead could burst around that corner at any moment, leaving him no hope of escape.
"Oh, that's easy." A massive rocket launcher flickered into Windsor's hands. "We blow it off its hinges."
"Are…are you sure? Won't that…attract attention?"
"We were always going to attract attention. If Riksis hasn't figured out what we're up to, he soon will. Anyways, this is just his throne room. I'd worry if it were Sepiks' sanctum, but it's not. Put your fingers in your ears-" the Hunter levelled his weapon at the door. "-this will be loud…"
XXX
Riksis gazed at the scene of destruction and death. Dozens of his Fallen dead, a Skiff lost, a Walker damaged, it was all maddening. As if to add insult to injury, it seemed this wasn't a large-scale thief attack, just one or two lone Wolf Thieves. As he took a closer look at the corpses, anger threatened to boil over at any moment.
I know these injuries. Headshots, perfect headshots. The work of a Hunter…and there are few who would dare attack my domain, let alone-A distant explosion caused the heads of hundreds of Eliksni to snap up, and for Riksis to whirl around.
As his Dregs, Vandals and Captains surged back into their great fortress, Riksis roared in his guttural alien tongue.
"Windsor!"
XXX
"I think they know we're here."
I somewhat guessed.
"Move, quickly." Windsor-2 hissed at Dimitri, backing into the throne room of Archon Riksis. His charge only just managed to force himself into action, mind boggled by the sight that lay before him.
The floor was coated in thousands of skulls.
Mostly they seemed to be human, with one or two alien looking ones scattered amongst the disturbing carpet. The room itself was large, its walls completely taken up by bulbous, alien, glowing blue computing. Once this housed a generator, but the Eliksni had ripped it out long ago to replace it with their own, superior tech.
A great gash in the ceiling caused by rust and age allowed sunlight to stab in and illuminate the Skull Taker's seat of power. Like the rest of the floor it was attached to, the throne was covered in skulls. The chair itself was twice Dimitri's size, built to accommodate something gargantuan.
"Fallen can grow to immense heights. As an Archon, Riksis is about twenty-four feet." His Ghost answered his unsaid question.
Twenty-four…God, how does anyone stand against that? Staring dumbfounded, the inexperienced Guardian could scarcely imagine something that large.
"Usually not many do. That throne…at least a tenth of it is made up of Guardian skulls."
Dimitri could hear the sadness in the little machine's voice and decided to not press the question, as it sounded like it had known a few of these people. And from the looks Windsor-2 was giving the horrendous chair…yes, he knew who a few of these poor souls were.
"Well, there's your way out." The Exo nodded at something above the throne. So consumed by his uneasiness, the young man had failed to notice the ship hanging from the ceiling. It looked hammered together, as if it were mass produced, its central triangular cockpit flanked by yellow cylinders that served as engines.
Immediately, Dimitri's Ghost materialized in a flash. It flew up to the old craft and began scanning it intently.
"Arcadia class jump ship, registration number…7785?" It paused in surprise. "This is Alesti-90's ship. I'd have thought the Fallen would've pulled it apart for scrap-"
"They did that to its owner but kept this as a trophy. Riksis does love his ornaments." Windsor muttered viciously, taking a kneeling position and levelling The Wounded at the ruined doors.
"Motion tracker's picking up about two or three hundred Fallen coming our way…no, no, I lie, four hundred." Reginald unhelpfully informed.
"Help get that ship back online. Kid, with me. We'll have to hold them until our Ghosts can make your way out work properly." The Hunter beckoned for his charge to join him. Reginald materialised and hovered over to the Ghost without a name.
"Let's see if you're any good, Sunshine." The Red machine said, condescendingly.
"I've been doing this for five hundred years. I'm not a newbie." The slightly inexperienced A.I grumbled, slightly hurt by those words.
"That's what all the young uns say. Henceforth, your name is Sunshine."
"Whatever. Let's get on with this."
The Russian did as he was told and took a kneeling position beside the British Exo, his Kvostov held more firmly than it had ever been before. He almost laughed at used to this he was getting, after the events of a mere day.
"Breathe…relax." Windsor reassured. He well understood the fears of newly risen Guardians, having obviously been one himself once. The lad needed a few rounds in the crucible and a trip to Banshee-44's stall before he should even consider going on a patrol. "On my command." The Exo's metal finger curled around the trigger.
"What happens when we have to reload?" Dimitri whispered, resolute but afraid.
"Rush them, but do not go beyond that door."
The ground shook as from the darkness dozens of Dregs, Vandals and Captains burst forth, chittering and snarling in their alien tongues.
"Open fire!" Windsor roared. The human weapons spat spiteful hot lead coated in the essence of a god, cutting down dozens of Eliksni. Captains' shields flashed then failed, followed by sick thuds and their chests or heads exploding into blue gore.
The barrels of the Guardians' weapons heated up quickly, yet they were altered by Light and therefore could fundamentally not fail. By the Traveller's will, the projectiles of its defenders would strike down its enemies.
However, inevitably, ammunition ran out. The time to change clip had come, but they'd little time to do it. So the two super-human undead rushed forwards, Windsor's rifle evaporating into motes of light, whilst Dimitri reloaded as he ran.
Soon enough his Kvostov was barking again, directly into the faces of the Aliens that wanted him dead. His gun held one handed, his fist free to swing, he annihilated scores of Fallen with his power. To his left, Dimitri could scarcely comprehend the golden revolver that had materialised in Windsor's hand. With practised precision, it unleashed jets of golden sunlight that burned its unfortunate targets away.
This…this is the Light? What a power...how's the ship coming along? He experimentally directed at his Ghost, wondering if they still had a link.
"Almost there, give us a little more time." It responded, sounding stressed.
I'll try my best.
A Captain had levelled his scorch canon and was firing into the melee. His own Dregs were incinerated, becoming useful shields for the two Guardians. Dimitri emptied a third of a clip into the large Alien's shields, then administered the coup de grace via a strike to the chest.
Riksis' obsession with this Young Wolf had cost him two hundred and fifty Devils.
"Done, we're ready to go!" The sound of engines whining as they heated up caught the attention of both Guardians.
"Move, I'll cover you!" Windsor barked, incinerating another hapless Dreg.
"What…what about you!?" The inexperienced Guardian cried, realising his new friend had no observable way out of this.
"Oh, I'll be fine. I've slipped out of far worse than this, now go before the Fallen bring in their big guns!"
"But-"
"Now, Dimitri!" Irritation seeped into that synthetic voice.
Dimitri looked on despairingly, then nodded after a moment of deliberation. He had to force down memories of leaving his dead father lying face down in the tarmac. Pelting to the decrepit looking ship, fighting tears that threatened to come forth as he left someone else behind, he could see Reginald flying back to his Guardian.
Good luck you two…and thank you. Soon he was directly beneath the vessel, only now thinking of how he was going to get onboard.
"Don't worry, I've got this!" His Ghost said with gusto.
Suddenly, the young man found himself within a tight fitting yet comfortable cockpit, single control stick lying between his legs, hud displaying power levels and the outside world.
"Wha…what?" He stammered.
"I just transmatted you. Hang on."
Dimitri was forced into his chair when the Jumpship's engines roared to life. Tearing itself free of the wires which held it captive, the dagger shaped vessel angled itself at the great hole in the ceiling and shot away.
The sheer power of its thrusters smashed everything below, sending skulls and Fallen flying everywhere, even demolishing the Archon's throne. This provided a moment or two of breathing space for the Hunter.
See you later, lad. Windsor-2 grinned.
"Umm, looks like Riksis is going to be here in a moment." Reginald muttered, a huge red blob appearing on motion tracker.
Ah, took him long enough. Shall we disappear?
"Thought you'd never ask. Activating cloak."
And like that, the legendary Exo vanished.
XXX
Sitting on a rooftop not far from the wall, a lone figure rested on one knee. A pair of electronic blue eyes scanned the area, amused at what a mess the Devils were making. They simply had no idea how to handle an incursion into the heart of their territory, flapping like startled birds in response.
There was a roar, causing her to lift her gaze. A Jumpship long thought lost roared into the heavens, finally free after fifty years. The female Exo knew it would break the stratosphere in a matter of seconds, the Fallen had no hope of catching it.
This "Stranger" chuckled to herself.
"A fine start, Young Wolf. Not even a day risen and you've angered one of the most powerful Fallen in the system. Yours will be a career to watch..." Shaking her head, this mysterious individual faded away, as if she'd never been there in the first place.
XXX
The Eliksni left in the throne room cowered in terror when their Archon stormed in, flanked by his personal Guard. Looking around, he saw the heart of his Empire defiled and ruined.
Riksis gazed up at the blue sky, seeing his greatest prize flying away in the hands of the insolent Thief who'd vandalized his glorious throne room. The other Guardian, the accursed Windsor, had likely long slunk off by now.
Archon Riksis, one of the largest and most feared Fallen in the system, the stuff of children's cautionary bedtime stories with nothing to take his fury out on, threw his head back and screamed.
4: The Tower: 1
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
Right, to keep up a quicker series of updates, I'll be putting up smaller segments of chapters at a time, once a week. For example, this bit is just about a thousand words or so. When the chapter "is complete" I'll upload the full complete thing to fanfic.net as a single "chapter."
Are we clear? Excellent, let's get to business.
XXXIn flight, over Old China
The gentle humming of the engines was soothing to him. Even more so because he knew this type of vessel, slowly piecing things back together from the time before. This was an Arcadia class jump ship, used in all manner of functions. Like an individual travelling from planet to planet for work, or explorers roaring off into the outer rim of the system.
They were truly marvellous and reliable craft. Now these cutting-edge pieces of technology were relics. He was a relic in some ways.
Dimitri looked around the cramped cockpit, the chunky buttons, various levers, and a single control stick between his legs. The only true light came from his hud. This depicted a crystal clear image of the world as he flew by, pushing through the puffy clouds.
He always loved watching clouds, when he was young…with mother…
An involuntary sniffle arose from that, but he pushed it down.
"You know…whatever's making you feel that way, it was all yesterday to you. There's no shame in grief, and only a fool would tell you otherwise." Ghost comforted and encouraged in the same breath.
Dimitri let a tear or two slide down his cheek, without any demeaning sobbing. He was a man, and a Russian man after all. It was not without reason the old humourful phrase of "stronk" had been applied to his people.
"Whoever you lost…I'm sorry."
"Can't you read my mind? Don't you know that stuff already?" The young immortal snapped. The little machine retreated, as if flinching.
"Oh, I'm…I'm…" The black haired man tripped over his words, ashamed at lashing out.
"I can read your mind. But I know there are some things I shouldn't pry into." The Ghost dropped its gaze.
"Thank you. Would…would you mind if I flew for a while? I'm afraid I don't know too much about this sort of thing, so could you-" A sudden flurry of information rushed through Dimitri's mind and stuck. He knew how to fly this thing.
"Instant info transfer. Another perk of being a Guardian."
"Right, still getting used to it all." He shook his head.
And thus he flew for a while, roaring through the blue skies of Planet Earth. It was so grand and glorious up here in the clouds, above and below them. For fifteen minutes straight, Dimitri's lips spread into a beaming smile. Never in his life had he been so free.
But then as it always had to, the smile went down. The Russian recalled his Ghost's words: "Look, I'll explain what I can to you in a moment."
"You said you'd give me answers. I'd like them now, thank you." He put across as gently as he could to the bizarrely sensitive machine. The Ghost's parts swivelled for a moment, as if it were thinking.
"How much do you want?" It asked.
"Everything."
"Info transfer or actual conversation?"
"A conversation. I like talking to you." Dimitri looked it directly in the eye, as was good manners in conversation.
The machine seemed touched by his words, squinting a little. It was quiet for a few moments, then answered.
"You died during the Collapse, correct?"
"Is that what people call it these days? Yes, yes I died when the Aliens came." The young immortal put bluntly, unwilling to say more. The memories still hurt.
"Wow…I-I'm still wrapping my head around that. You're older than most Cryptarchs I know."
"Cryptarchs?"
"Remember that Master Rahool, Windsor-2 mentioned? He's one. Really have a thing for Golden Age, your age, technology."
"Why? You have the Light, you have nigh immortal super soldiers, what do you need our old stuff for?" The black haired man tilted his head in confusion.
"Light isn't everything. Mankind lost all its glories in the Collapse, it had to start again from scratch. So much knowledge was forgotten…" The Ghost lamented.
"Y-you mean…Life Enhancement Procedures, World Engines, GM crops, Black Hole Syphons, Nimitz class Dreadnoughts, Extra-Solar Travel, the Colonies!? All gone?" Sadness creeped into Dimitri's voice. Even for one alive during that time, it was an age of wonders. Now it was scarcely a memory.
"Yes. The only remnant we have of it are the Exos."
"Heh, back in my day a lot of people thought they were the path to immortality, or at least that's what Clovis Bray called it…whole load of my friends were going to work for that company…" He scowled from behind his helmet.
"Not fond of Clovis Bray?" The Ghost sensed his emotions.
"They were fucking with things that should never have been fucked with."
"You'll find more than one Exo agreeing with you on that."
"Hmm…sorry, I'm distracting you. I don't understand though, the Aliens overran us. How the hell did anything survive?"
Once again, it seemed as if his Ghost were thinking. Planning out how it would tell near two thousand years of history, helped by knowing where to truly begin.
"We call them the Hive. The most we know about their Homeworld is that it's in another galaxy and called Fundament. And we only found that out because one Warlock studied them so much he went mad."
"Hive…fitting for them." Dimitri's lip quivered slightly. Rotten teeth, rife with blood, flashed through his mind. Those emerald eyes, eager for slaughter, plagued his memory. Living plague would be an apt description for them.
"Yes…vile creatures. The only thing they can do is destroy, they can't build, they can't create." The Machine hissed with synthetic resentment and disgust. As a Ghost, a being of the Light, nothing in the universe could hate the Hive more than it.
"Hey, easy." The Russian raised his hands in placation, smiling slightly. "I hate the green fuckers too. How did we get rid of them?"
The Ghost's gaze dropped again, in some strange equivalent of slumping one's shoulders.
"The Traveller sacrificed itself." It whispered, bottomless grief consuming its tone.
Are we clear? Excellent, let's get to business.
XXX
The gentle humming of the engines was soothing to him. Even more so because he knew this type of vessel, slowly piecing things back together from the time before. This was an Arcadia class jump ship, used in all manner of functions. Like an individual travelling from planet to planet for work, or explorers roaring off into the outer rim of the system.
They were truly marvellous and reliable craft. Now these cutting-edge pieces of technology were relics. He was a relic in some ways.
Dimitri looked around the cramped cockpit, the chunky buttons, various levers, and a single control stick between his legs. The only true light came from his hud. This depicted a crystal clear image of the world as he flew by, pushing through the puffy clouds.
He always loved watching clouds, when he was young…with mother…
An involuntary sniffle arose from that, but he pushed it down.
"You know…whatever's making you feel that way, it was all yesterday to you. There's no shame in grief, and only a fool would tell you otherwise." Ghost comforted and encouraged in the same breath.
Dimitri let a tear or two slide down his cheek, without any demeaning sobbing. He was a man, and a Russian man after all. It was not without reason the old humourful phrase of "stronk" had been applied to his people.
"Whoever you lost…I'm sorry."
"Can't you read my mind? Don't you know that stuff already?" The young immortal snapped. The little machine retreated, as if flinching.
"Oh, I'm…I'm…" The black haired man tripped over his words, ashamed at lashing out.
"I can read your mind. But I know there are some things I shouldn't pry into." The Ghost dropped its gaze.
"Thank you. Would…would you mind if I flew for a while? I'm afraid I don't know too much about this sort of thing, so could you-" A sudden flurry of information rushed through Dimitri's mind and stuck. He knew how to fly this thing.
"Instant info transfer. Another perk of being a Guardian."
"Right, still getting used to it all." He shook his head.
And thus he flew for a while, roaring through the blue skies of Planet Earth. It was so grand and glorious up here in the clouds, above and below them. For fifteen minutes straight, Dimitri's lips spread into a beaming smile. Never in his life had he been so free.
But then as it always had to, the smile went down. The Russian recalled his Ghost's words: "Look, I'll explain what I can to you in a moment."
"You said you'd give me answers. I'd like them now, thank you." He put across as gently as he could to the bizarrely sensitive machine. The Ghost's parts swivelled for a moment, as if it were thinking.
"How much do you want?" It asked.
"Everything."
"Info transfer or actual conversation?"
"A conversation. I like talking to you." Dimitri looked it directly in the eye, as was good manners in conversation.
The machine seemed touched by his words, squinting a little. It was quiet for a few moments, then answered.
"You died during the Collapse, correct?"
"Is that what people call it these days? Yes, yes I died when the Aliens came." The young immortal put bluntly, unwilling to say more. The memories still hurt.
"Wow…I-I'm still wrapping my head around that. You're older than most Cryptarchs I know."
"Cryptarchs?"
"Remember that Master Rahool, Windsor-2 mentioned? He's one. Really have a thing for Golden Age, your age, technology."
"Why? You have the Light, you have nigh immortal super soldiers, what do you need our old stuff for?" The black haired man tilted his head in confusion.
"Light isn't everything. Mankind lost all its glories in the Collapse, it had to start again from scratch. So much knowledge was forgotten…" The Ghost lamented.
"Y-you mean…Life Enhancement Procedures, World Engines, GM crops, Black Hole Syphons, Nimitz class Dreadnoughts, Extra-Solar Travel, the Colonies!? All gone?" Sadness creeped into Dimitri's voice. Even for one alive during that time, it was an age of wonders. Now it was scarcely a memory.
"Yes. The only remnant we have of it are the Exos."
"Heh, back in my day a lot of people thought they were the path to immortality, or at least that's what Clovis Bray called it…whole load of my friends were going to work for that company…" He scowled from behind his helmet.
"Not fond of Clovis Bray?" The Ghost sensed his emotions.
"They were fucking with things that should never have been fucked with."
"You'll find more than one Exo agreeing with you on that."
"Hmm…sorry, I'm distracting you. I don't understand though, the Aliens overran us. How the hell did anything survive?"
Once again, it seemed as if his Ghost were thinking. Planning out how it would tell near two thousand years of history, helped by knowing where to truly begin.
"We call them the Hive. The most we know about their Homeworld is that it's in another galaxy and called Fundament. And we only found that out because one Warlock studied them so much he went mad."
"Hive…fitting for them." Dimitri's lip quivered slightly. Rotten teeth, rife with blood, flashed through his mind. Those emerald eyes, eager for slaughter, plagued his memory. Living plague would be an apt description for them.
"Yes…vile creatures. The only thing they can do is destroy, they can't build, they can't create." The Machine hissed with synthetic resentment and disgust. As a Ghost, a being of the Light, nothing in the universe could hate the Hive more than it.
"Hey, easy." The Russian raised his hands in placation, smiling slightly. "I hate the green fuckers too. How did we get rid of them?"
The Ghost's gaze dropped again, in some strange equivalent of slumping one's shoulders.
"The Traveller sacrificed itself." It whispered, bottomless grief consuming its tone.
Last edited:
- Location
- A Strange Aeon
Destiny needed a opening like this if only to establish what humanity lost. The game had a hard time making me care about the so called 'Golden Age'.
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
As someone who played orig Destiny, I absolutely agree. In fact I felt the story telling of the franchise entire was so horrible that it compelled me to write this. God damn it, Bungo...
Also, thank you for commenting and welcome aboard!
Lord Sovereign
The Emperor of shitty fanfic
- Location
- England
My humblest apologies for not updating last night, even though the segment is somewhat ready. You see, I got this horrible headache which sort of stopped me doing nearly anything.
So whilst I could have been updating, I was sitting on my sofa, in pain and feeling sorry for myself, whilst holding a mug of chamomile tea and praying for the painkillers to kick in. All whilst watching Mel Gibson's shitty version of the American Revolution (a.k.a "Braveheart 1776" or "The Patriot")
Update will come this evening. Thank you for your patience.
So whilst I could have been updating, I was sitting on my sofa, in pain and feeling sorry for myself, whilst holding a mug of chamomile tea and praying for the painkillers to kick in. All whilst watching Mel Gibson's shitty version of the American Revolution (a.k.a "Braveheart 1776" or "The Patriot")
Update will come this evening. Thank you for your patience.