I only own the OCs in this story unless otherwise stated
Chapter 1: Fallen Dreams
Archer's Line, Moon
Firewing sat on the mass accelerator, staring over to where the Hellmouth lay. The Hunter watched as the dark Hive magic brewed over the pit. His Wolves' cloak shined the sun's reflection and allowed him to see the black wisps coiling, ever rising and sinking.
The wire shot whizzed past his head, forcing Firewing to remove himself from his thoughts. He saw the vandal through his cloaking device, powering up another shot. The white-and-blue Hunter stood up and walked towards the accelerator station, still on the beam itself. Briefly, he looked down and behind him just as a sniper shot removed the Exile's head.
"Why did you have to go and shoot him?" The human asked.
"Screeching was starting to get on my nerves." a male Titan commed in.
"It wasn't a Wizard, Lucks." an Exo Warlock chimed in.
"Still."
Firewing considered Lucks and Triton as his brothers. Not by blood, of course, but by battle. The Titan was an excellent sniper with Her Benevolence, as well as one of the best hand-to-hand combatants he'd ever seen. He usually donned the Revenant armor shader given to him by Dead Orbit, but now he was clad in his fireteam colors; midnight black with navy blue stripes.
Triton was the team leader and resident Warlock. He was well-known for his natural talent at ending conflicts quickly, either by word or gun. Clad in black with silver dots on his arm, Triton often delved into the mysteries that surrounded the planets. He favored Bad Juju when out in the wilds, despite its dark connection with Toland the Shattered. Instead of ignoring the darkness within, the Warlock looked after it, keeping the memories of his, their, fallen comrade.
Samson was the only Awoken in their team, but was also one of the strongest of the Titans. He fell to Xyor, the Unwed, when Fireteam Death was sent to suppress Phogoth. Samson had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, as he unleashed a Fist of Havoc on the lumbering Ogre to divert his attention. It worked and he was sent flying onto the landing platform. The momentum pulled him to the edge. When he brought his head up to continue climbing, he met with Phogoth's eye beam and was immediately killed. His ghost was still functional, but then she came.
Xyor dropped out of one of the approaching tombships onto the platform. She spotted the defenseless Ghost and grabbed it. She screeched, calling for the spirit's companions to look. They did just as she crushed the poor AI into a sparking pile of metal. She was immediately fired upon after that, but managed to escape.
Phogoth was killed, but at the cost of a brother. They hoped his sacrifice was fruitful, but when Ikora sent them to the Pits a second time, Phogoth had risen again. Triton began to delve into the Darkness and was promptly guarded. He started to see that everyone was in a stalemate; the Guardians kept felling the Champions of the Darkness in where it festered. It seemed that they were winning, when in fact, it would be all for naught. After the light retreated to its home, the Darkness would quickly rebirth those who had been slain in its strongest gatherings.
Triton, Lucks, and Firewing would always keep a sharp eye on Earth and its moon after the event. Each swore that every Hive they saw would not live to die, if at all, of old age. Then the Fallen were seen as a possible ally. Firewing grew his respect for the Eliksni to equal his respect of the Cabal. Whenever he was not needed, he went to the Vestian Outpost in the Reef and conversed with Variks.
The Hunter and Warlock soon pushed themselves to learn the Eliksni language. They both translated it fluently, but required their Ghosts to do the opposite. After that, it was disabling Shanks and disarming the living.
That practice ended up with surprise and interest in the Fallen. To them, these enemies wouldn't shoot to kill except when necessary to protect themselves. They spoke questions with a tone of respect. Although looked down upon by some of the more hateful Guardians, Fireteam Death continued to make friends within most of the Eliksni Houses, particularly Winter.
Rather, those that didn't choose to follow Skolas and lived. Those groups soon joined together with Triton's help to bring back Winter. Firewing, however, was constantly met with hostility for his bearing the Wolves' sigil. He managed to repair the capes of dead Winter vandals, killed by the Guardians who shot first, and construct his own Winter cloak. Then he was met with the same respect as his brother.
Winter, now very weak, but bent more on information than battle, became a second home for Death. Since they had to grow, or risk getting pushed off of Venus by the Vex, Winter allowed any exiled by the old House to come back if they chose to. Few did, wary of the Guardians that helped rebuild it. In time, that fear calmed down and numbers increased. But the House would remain on the defensive for a long time.
A skiff dropped next to the station, bearing Wolves' colors. Death immediately gathered to exterminate the intruders. The Fallen all died with seconds of their hitting the ground. The leader was dealt with, and Death quickly reached the Ether Chest.
"Two tokens, couple of rare engrams, and a legendary chestplate." Lucks reported. Not a lot, but the legendary engram was worth the trouble.
"Usual glimmer?" Firewing asked, searching around for high ranking Exiles with his High Road Soldier scout rifle.
"Yeah."
"All right, let's get out of here. Those Scorch Captains got my Fallen Major and precision bounties finished." Triton spoke as he pulled out his Ghost, Keith. "Beam us up, Scotty."
Keith laughed and responded with a "Aye, sir."
Lucks and Fire just chuckled as they were transmatted to their ships. The latter had Ceres Galliot, while Lucks tortured his Ghost with Little Light. Triton stuck with his Outrageous Fortune. He punched in the desired coordinates and the team launched through space.
"Vestian Outpost, here we come."
