Author's Note to the Reader: This was the accepted piece I submitted to Destiny Dispatch's Become Legend II project. It has gone through some minor revisions, so it's not exactly the same as the version you'll find in that volume of stories. For those of you reading this note, I highly recommend that you read through Shachal's Chapter 13 before reading this "pre-sequel/prequel" short story. Otherwise, you'll be ruining the experience. That I promise. After you finish Chapter 13, you can read this story any time afterward. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy. (Trivia: Shachal: Origins was originally planned to be a complete pre-sequel to Shachal, but having done some reflection on the content outlined for it, I decided it was best written as a short story. Shachal and its sequel, however, will be full length novels.)


Shachal: Origins

A torrential storm of gunfire roared throughout the valley, its terrifying shouts thundered for miles in all directions. The majestic mountain faces that once sheltered it groaned in anguish as the echoes of destruction growled with blood thirst. Only moments ago, this vale was as peaceful as a forsaken corner of the Wilderness could be. However, it would seem the once beautiful landscape would perish as flurries of metal splintered the greenery and flames of plasma burned the forest to a mere memory. Yesterday, these woods were an untarnished reminder of what once was. But today, it would be a battlefield. As was the law of the Wilderness. Nothing would remain unscathed. Such as these ancient lands which once proudly survived for ages. With such haste, their splendor would die and their memory would soon fade into oblivion. Today, its streams would run red with blood and corpses would litter the moist ground beneath the trees' canopies. A pity that only bones would serve as a bitter reminder of today's misery, and yet no memento would remain to remind anyone of the dale's magnificence that stood so tall the day before.

A young man sprinted and weaved through evergreen trees as bullets and bolts of energy whizzed and screamed past him too frequently for comfort. He could feel his heart pounding underneath his armor, as if it were a fearful prisoner desperately trying to free himself from his cage. He could only wish that the culprit behind his increased heart rate was sprinting for most of the morning. The young soldier wouldn't openly admit it to anyone, but he wouldn't dare deny it in private thought. He was afraid. Ever since he was a child, he romanticized the glory bestowed upon Guardians of the Last City. Many times, he imagined the renown he would earn from his battles. He thought of the same things just yesterday afternoon. When he was told that his company would be sent with several others to combat a Fallen incursion, only naive excitement occupied his thoughts. Little did he know that battle wasn't as glamorous as he imagined. It didn't take long to learn the harsh truth. He felt the terror grip him when the first shot was fired and when scores of his fellow classmates from the Guardian Academy fell as they made their advance. The sight of his friends and comrades dying sent his mind into disarray. Every time the Fallen warriors cried with glee as they killed his peers, his body shuddered and his spine shivered uncontrollably. The soldier ran and ran, but he forgot where he was supposed to go. His mind was racing ever since the companies assaulted the Fallen lines, and all sense of duty and objective abandoned him.

The man slowed and doubled over, his gauntlets resting on his knees. Even though his helmet muffled his hysterical panting, he still felt as vulnerable as ever. The now distant cheers of victory and screams of the dying brought him little relief. Exhausted, he stumbled over to a nearby tree and rested his forearm and head on the sturdy trunk. He reflected on all that had happened from the moment he woke up this morning. Frustrated, he bared his teeth, loathing himself. He cursed his cowardice and slammed his fist into the trunk multiple times, thinking of his fallen friends he inadvertently left behind. In a matter of moments, he calmed down and simply stared at the scuffed bark on the tree, only inches from his visor. The Guardian bit his lip and squeezed his shotgun tightly. He didn't know where it came from, or when for that matter, but a wave of adrenaline coursed over him and a gleam of determination filled his eyes. He clenched his jaw and whipped around, storming for the battlefield he was just fleeing. His muscles burned, his chest ached, and his mouth was dry, but the man thought little of it and raced for his comrades. The young soldier promised himself this: If he was meant to live today, then his friends would live with him. And if his friends were to die today, then he would gladly die beside them.

It didn't take long before the Guardian reached the combat zone that was once occupied by the Fallen lines. It already reeked of death, and the stench of burning corpses and blood-stained vegetation nearly made him gag. His legs shook as he scanned the ground before him. So many bodies, both Guardians and Fallen alike, scattered the field, piled atop each other in messes of passed struggle. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was parched. Mustering up enough courage to trek the battleground before him was no easy task, but the Guardian managed to regain his composure and move forward. As much as he hated doing so, he stepped over his cold dead companions. Finding any patch of earth to stand on was difficult, and several times, the soldier tripped over corpses and the equipment they once wielded.

It felt like an eternity had passed before the sea of dead warriors thinned, and with each step the Guardian made when he waded through it, his rage welled up more and more. The mocking shouts of the Fallen soldiers he trailed behind began to grow louder, and with it, the anticipation to bring them to their ends grew ever more powerful. He raced forward at a strong pace, but kept his footfalls muffled. Whether it was actually occurring or not, the soldier felt as if his senses and awareness were keener. He couldn't complain. The Fallen had to be brought down, and anything that could help him achieve that was more than welcome.

Fortunately for him, the soldier's attentiveness paid off, and he could make out the rear of the Fallen forces ahead. They carefully trudged onward, looking for the adversaries who had either survived the skirmish or retreated from them. The intervals between their gunfire had decreased significantly and all that the lone soldier could hear was their foreign chatter. He could only guess that his allies had been pushed back. It was more than likely that the Fallen had more experienced soldiers in this fight, and it was hard to admit, but it appeared to be true as there were about two Guardians to one Fallen warrior lying in heaps in the valley's forest. With such proximity between him and his enemies, the man observed his surroundings even closer. He continued his pursuit, and still wanted to bring his friends' killers to justice, but he wasn't an idiot. He didn't know how he was going to effectively fight the small army of Fallen in front of him, but he knew he had to do something. It was intolerable to follow them to his allies' death. Unfortunately, he had no means of communicating with the main body of Guardians on the other side of the alien assault.

Perhaps too anxious to aid his fellow Guardians, and content with his fate, the man took a deep breath and prepared for his first, and surely final, battle. He stood from his crouched position behind some shrubs and slowly lifted the barrel of his shotgun. Just before he was going to take his first shot, a metal gauntlet slammed down and lowered it to the ground. To his surprise, the young Guardian saw a large Exo stooping lowly next to him, holding his shotgun's barrel. The war machine stared at the man with blank, but intimidating fiery orange eyes and shook his head.

Another person stealthily crept up from behind the soldier and crouched next to him. "What were ya' thinkin'? Ya' would've been slaughtered, ya' fool," the Hunter whispered.

The man didn't respond, or rather didn't know what to say. He didn't expect to find others out here with him. On one hand he was grateful for the help. But what kind of a difference could another two soldiers make?

"I take it ya're a Titan, correct?" the Hunter asked quietly.

The man took his eyes off of the Fallen ahead and looked at the Hunter to his left, still shocked with this unexpected meeting, "Yes."

The Hunter nodded, "Ya' seem a bit itchy for a fight. Ready ta' make your trigger finger sore?"

The Titan hadn't removed his eyes from the Scotsman and simply replied with a grin veiled by his helmet, "Yes."

The Hunter didn't need to see the Titan's expression. His tone had much more to say than his actual response. The Hunter himself chuckled, "Good, 'cause we're going ta' need ya'."

"Who are you?" the Titan queried, curious about his new acquaintances' identities.

"Ya' can't wait 'til after we've finished cleaning these bastards out?" the Hunter retorted.

"I might not get around to it. They might clean us out," the Titan rebutted, now studying the Fallen soldiers getting further away.

"When ya' put it that way, ya' make it sound like we're gonna lose," the Scot said, but the Titan didn't relent and waited for his response. "Okay, damn it. The name's Kaeneth. The big mountain o' tin next ta' ya' goes by Kauson."

"Did you lose the other member of your fireteam?" the Titan asked, noting there were only two of them.

"We're no fireteam. I found him roaming around a battlefield ta' the east o' here," Kaeneth answered, looking at the uncomfortably quiet Exo next to me. "He has little ta' say, and he doesn't look it, but he is a Warlock. Saw him reduce a band o' Fallen ta' cinders." The Hunter seemed a little tense himself as he looked at the silent Kauson. "So, who are ya'?"

The Titan should have expected his name to be requested, but he was hesitant.

"What? Ya' started the introductions. Might as well finish 'em," Kaeneth said with an amused tone.

He was right. Time was running short, and the Fallen weren't going to wait around for them. It was nigh time to settle the score, but the introductions were indeed incomplete. "Thumos. My name's Thumos."

"Well, Thumos, are ya' about ready ta' get started?" Kaeneth asked anxiously.

Thumos confirmed his question with a firm nod.

"Okay, I hope ya're a sprinter," Kaeneth said with a complementing smile hidden underneath his helmet.


The Fallen forces had slowed to a halt. The grunts bickered amongst themselves, arguing about where the opposition had fled. Some disagreements became so heated, a random few of the especially frustrated warriors broke into scuffles. Search parties split up and scouted the areas around the Fallen camp for any hostiles. It was nearing noon now, and the group of newly met Guardians responded to the Fallen movements as if they were in a chess match, concealing themselves in thick bushes and dark shadows. Thumos and Kauson followed Kaeneth's lead. As the Hunter, he was most skilled in remaining unseen. For the last hour or so, they trailed behind the Fallen company. Thumos grew confused with Kaeneth's earlier impatience, but after some private consideration, appreciated the fact that patience was certainly their virtue right now. They were only just beginning to set their plan, whatever it was, into motion. Thumos contemplated their chance of success and found himself wondering if they were going to make it out of this valley alive. As he glanced at each of the two Guardians accompanying him, he wondered if they were sharing the same thoughts. The Exo hadn't said a single word since he met him, and Thumos began to wonder if he was even capable of speaking. Kaeneth, too, exchanged only a few words since their departure, telling them when and where to move and stop. They hadn't even discussed a detailed strategy, but Thumos figured it wouldn't have done them much good to stop and talk the situation over in these circumstances. He was prepared to think on the fly and adapt accordingly. It was about all they could manage at the moment.

Kaeneth stopped in his tracks behind a mess of shattered trees and mangled brush and observed the Fallen soldiers before them. Thumos and Kauson studied and waited as he glanced about the cramped space surrounding friend and foe alike. "Okay, they're plenty tired enough by now," he said in a hushed voice. "Rested or not, we're going ta' need a distraction. Titan, I thought ya'd like ta' do the honors. We need Kauson's skills for this ta' work, and other than him, ya're fitted with the best armor."

"Not that I'm against it, but you're probably lighter on your feet than me," Thumos said, a little nervous about the idea.

"Aye, I am, and I'm likely the quietest as well. Though, that won't matter if the grunts find ma' position. That's why I need ya' ta' draw 'em out, so I can take out their leaders, fast and unopposed. The Exo will only stick around here for a wee bit before going ta' help ya'."

"That's the plan? Against dozens of Fallen soldiers?" Thumos complained.

"Do ya' have a better idea? This is the best we have. I only need about one or two minutes if we do it right. Three, worst case scenario," Kaeneth whispered.

Thumos looked away and watched the Fallen troops get comfortable. He was still furious about the morning's events and after a short bout of deliberation, answered, "Alright, I'll do it. I hope your aim's sharp today, because two minutes isn't much consolation."

If an expression could be heard, Thumos would have heard a large smirk from the Hunter. He shook his head as he replied, "Don't worry, Thumos. I'll take ma' time." That made the young Titan even more uncomfortable. "Oh, if ya' have any, open up with some explosives. Wear 'em down a bit. The confusion should allow ya' ta' get a head start."

Fortunately for Thumos, he still had a couple of standard issue fragmentation and flash grenades on his belt. He breathed deeply and began to creep through the shadows behind, his only flash grenade in hand.

Kaeneth whispered again, as if remembering a detail, "Thumos. Run west." The young Hunter turned away and nestled himself on the soft bed of vegetation underfoot, preparing his aim. "On your go."

Thumos paused only momentarily before lobbing the flash grenade into the center of the Fallen forces. Dozens of startled shouts and roars broke the silence that once hung thick in the woods. Thumos took a long stride and as he sprinted away from his blinded foes, he primed his frag grenade and threw it as hard as he could, hoping it would reach its mark. Without waiting for the result, the Titan dashed for the western edge of the valley and ran as fast as he could manage, pumping his legs as swiftly as possible. He recoiled from the loud explosion behind him and following it, many agonized screams sent chills down his spine. It didn't take long for their response. Like a pack of hungry wolves, most of the surviving soldiers made chase, hunting down their prey. Thumos desperately tried to run quicker, and when blazing trails of Fallen gunfire ripped through the air, he felt an all too familiar sensation. He panicked, ducking and weaving through nature's labyrinth, trying to avoid the murderous rounds chasing him. As much as he attempted to, he couldn't dodge all of them. Thumos felt stray bullets and bolts of energy flick off of his shields, although that didn't bring much comfort, knowing they would only last so long.

During his flight, Thumos counted the number of shrill cracks of a sniper rifle and explosive crashes of Nova Bombs behind him, wishing for them to conclude. He was prepared to fight, but under his circumstances, there was no way he could combat the threat that followed closely behind. The Titan needed backup soon. But fortunately for now, he had plenty of impeded sight lines protecting him from much of the Fallen attacks. That is, until he neared a clearing. Thumos' heart dropped as soon as he saw the faded, grass-covered glade before him, realizing that he would be an easy target for his pursuers. But slowing would result in his certain demise as well. So in one last desperate attempt to cheat death, Thumos emerged from the tree line and stormed for the evergreen trees on the other side of the stream at the edge of the clearing. He stumbled but regained his footing, only to see even more Fallen soldiers appear from the dark shadows beneath the adjacent canopies, fixating all of their attention on the lone man running for his life. Just as Thumos was about to give up, he saw featureless silhouettes shift in the distant shade across the stream, and in little time, scores of Guardians jumped out of the darkness and fired upon Thumos' assailants. The man himself rolled to the ground in hopes of avoiding the clashing waves of firepower, and made a mad crawl to his allies' frontlines. Water and foam splashed, and the earth cracked and spit up dust as the Guardians assaulted the oncoming Fallen. An uncountable surge of Guardian powers erupted on the Fallen frontlines, slowing their assault with cries of surprise and fear.

Thumos rose sluggishly, his entire body burning with pain and fatigue, approached the battle as fast as he was able, and began to unleash his wrath upon the enemies that massacred his comrades and tormented him all morning. If he didn't have to reload his shotgun, he would have continued to fire the buckshot into his adversaries without wait. The Guardian growled in fury and groaned from the sting of pain behind seething teeth as the slaughter raged on.

Soon, the gunfire subsided and the chaotic dusts settled. Many Guardians fell, but nearly all of the Fallen perished. Any that survived intelligently fled the battlefield. Thumos watched as many other soldiers did exactly as he did, scanning the area for further need to fight. Realizing the skirmish was over, many Guardians cheered triumphantly, throwing clenched fists into the air and shaking their weapons with pride. Others fell silent, mourning the loss of their closest friends and family. Thumos, completely exhausted, succumbed to gravity's embrace, and fell to his knees. He fell back on his heels and hung his head, hundreds of thoughts racing through his mind at once. He didn't know what to think. His consciousness was flooded with so many emotions, he didn't know what to do other than fall to the ground, defeated by his throbbing body. Thumos rolled over to his back and stared at the cloudy sky, feeling cold sweat run down his cheeks and into his ears, and knew that he learned more than he ever anticipated from his first battle. He breathed laboriously as Guardians paced about around him, their own thoughts surely haunting them as well.

The young soldier, introduced to the reality of being a Guardian, pulled himself up from the ground and studied the field. His gaze was caught by a woman who was kneeling next to a vanquished Guardian, her face buried in his chest, screaming her brother's name. She was crying and her unkempt jet black hair swayed on the man's armor as she sobbed. Thumos winced as he picked himself up, removed his helmet, and limped to the weeping woman, kneeling next to her on one knee. She didn't know he was there, even after his hesitant gauntlet rested gently on her shoulder. Tears flowed down her thin cheeks and pattered on Thumos' leg. He embraced the grieving girl and rested his head on hers, "I'm sorry." The words were too little for comfort, but he couldn't think of anything else to say, nor did he expect a response. He simply held her head close to his chest and didn't try to stop her cries. She could shed her tears, both for her and for him, for he couldn't bring himself to do so that day, no matter how much he wanted to.

When her cries slowed, the woman suffering from shock simply stared into space. Thumos patiently sat with her in the dull green grass, understanding she was unimaginably sorrowful. Sympathetic, he watched her glossy blue eyes, red with bloodshot, lost and unmoving. The Titan was surprised when he heard her hoarse voice, "What's your name?"

"Thumos," he responded plainly, his voice cracking from dehydration. "And yours?"

"Rayah," she said, now looking at him, blinking for the first time in a good while. Thumos found her beautiful gaze hard to meet, but did his best to maintain it. Her next question, however, would make that a difficult feat to accomplish, "Did you lose someone, too?"

Thumos wasn't sure how to answer. He had lost friends and fellow peers, but he didn't step on the battlefield with a relative standing next to him. He couldn't imagine what it was like to experience that, being an only child and having no family relations close to him, but from what he had already seen today, he knew it was terribly painful. At the same time, it did feel as if something was different, although it had nothing to do with another individual. It was personal. The boy he was that morning died. Thumos offered the woman a weak glance without a reply. To his surprise, she accepted with understanding eyes.

Little did he know at the time, this woman would be the love of his life. For the rest of the afternoon, Thumos, Rayah, and the surviving soldiers retrieved their deceased brothers and sisters in arms, and rested on the battlefield under cool clouds until FOTC drop ships arrived to collect them, alive and fallen alike. Thumos left the valley, wondering what happened to the two Guardians he met in the woods. He didn't see them in the battlefield now far below. Were they even alive? Were they defeated by the leaders at the Fallen camp? Many somber thoughts haunted him, but he knew, without a doubt, that they had saved his life. Thumos, weary and growing sick, retired himself to some much needed sleep and rested his heavy head on the rigid support behind him, leaving his first nightmare of war behind and surely bound to experience his next in a few short moments.


"Command, Fireteam Tau is in position."

"Site confirmed, Tau One," Command replied, "Fireteam Sigma has yet to reach their objective. Stand by for further instruction."

"Order confirmed, Command." Thumos closed the channel and sighed as he turned to his subordinates. Both were young men, fresh out of the Academy. He signaled for them to recheck their equipment before they continued ahead. They complied and as he observed, Thumos remembered what his first experience in battle was like three years ago. He habitually examined his weapons as well, and when he studied his shotgun he was reminded of that day in the valley. That day he had come so close to embracing death, but was stopped by those two Guardians in the forest.

"Sir, is Sigma in position?" one of the young Guardians asked, interrupting his meditations.

Thumos turned to the youngest soldier in the team and decided to try contacting Fireteam Sigma himself, "Let's check." He opened up the scouting channel, "Sigma One, do you read? Sigma, this is Tau One. What's your ETA?"

"Have some patience, Tau One. We've already been hounded by Command. Keep in mind you were given the easily accessible flank," the Sigma team leader whined.

Thumos had little patience for such men, and closed the comm after a simple dismissive response, "Contact us as soon as you reach your objective, Sigma. We'll meet you out there."

"Guess not, Brecho," Thumos exhaled.

"Thank you, sir," the accompanying Titan said, trying to hide his impatience.

Thumos could sense the boy's anxiety and could relate to it well, "Are you scared?"

"Sir?" Brecho muttered.

"Just answer the question honestly, kid," Thumos stated. "Are you afraid?"

The young man hesitated to confess and lowered his head in shame, "Yes, sir."

The Guardian's peer observed him with a slight sense of disgust and shook his head, "There's no place for fear on the battlefield, Brecho. I thought more of you." The arrogant Tritos got up and approached the tree line ahead.

Thumos watched as his subordinate left them behind and dismissed his outburst. He brought his attention back to Brecho, "That can be good."

"How so, sir?" Brecho asked, his usually deep voice having grown quiet.

"Whether it's brought about because of failure or death, fear can serve as an excellent motivator and that can make a man more of a threat when taken advantage of. If you're scared of failing, use that fear to drive you to succeed. If you're afraid to die, do everything you can to live. A man who isn't afraid of dying may be able to do something great with his death. Although honorable, you can't count his merits alone. What can a man who is afraid of death do with the life he cherishes? Most would call those men cowards, but life isn't something that should be thrown away so casually. If you're able to do something of greater merit with your life than your death, then do so. Needless to say, there's no guarantee you'll live. But you should aspire to do so, even when faced with that possibility." Thumos glanced at the young soldier next to him, deciding to test him. "This all depends on one thing though. Are you one to stand when fear challenges you? Figure that out and meet me at the tree line in two after you." Thumos left his junior to reflect and waded through the dry and humble woods to its edge before remembering an off-subject thought, "And ease up on the 'sirs', kid. That's not my name." He made his way back to Tritos' position, giving his other teammate a private moment. Brecho would have to come to a decision soon. War had no sympathy for those who couldn't think and adapt swiftly, and he would have to learn that alone.

The Cabal were moving quickly. Thumos was confident that the presence of the scout teams and main Guardian force were still secret, but if they waited much longer, they would lose their advantage to the confines of the ravine nearby. If the Cabal reached it, they could easily become an impenetrable wall that would result in the deaths of many Guardians. They had to make their attack in the open, where they could surround the burly beasts and attack from multiple fronts. Their defenses would still prove to be a difficult hurdle to conquer, but the pressure would eventually crush their armor and render them helpless as the surrounding Guardians picked them off. If they couldn't set their plan into motion before the Cabal reached the ravine mouth to the southeast, then the battle's victor would already be decided, and the Guardian research post at the other end of the gorge would most definitely be met with merciless devastation. Timing was of the essence.

Thumos could hear Brecho's approach, and the sound of his steps carried a newfound confidence that brought a smile to his face. Without a word, Thumos looked at the man to his right, who simply gazed out at the horizon ahead. Not a single word needed to be exchanged. Brecho found his answer and Thumos didn't need to ask to know what it was.

"Tau One, this is Sigma One. We're in position," Fireteam Tau heard over the scouting channel on their comms. "Command has been contacted as well."

"Roger, Sigma One," Thumos responded immediately. "Watch your backs out there. We must make the first strike at all costs."

"Don't remind me, Tau One. We'll see you on the battlefield, assuming you make it that far," Sigma One retorted.

The comm's frequency hissed subsequently. "Son of a bitch can't stop complaining," Tritos grumbled. "You know him, sir?"

"No. I was just told we would be working with his team on this mission," Thumos answered as he paced off for the battleground. "I'll admit that I don't want to work with him again though."

In only a matter of minutes, Fireteam Tau found themselves standing atop a hill that rested above a modest decline. In the distance, they could see the company of featureless Cabal trudging on to the gully. There were approximately a hundred of them, according to aerial stealth reports. But with so much dust billowing from their heavy and powerful cadence, clear reports on what the troop was comprised of were inconclusive. There were plenty of Legionnaires undoubtedly. Hopefully there wouldn't be as many, but a handful of Centurions were likely leading the force. Thumos hoped that there were as few of them as possible. Rayah volunteered to be one of many reinforcement Guardians should the fight get hairy, but if he could help it, Thumos wanted to keep her out of this skirmish. He didn't want to be worried about her, which he surely would have been. The same could be said for her, but he refused to have her accompany him on the scouting team. She objected numerous times, but Thumos was adamant about his decision and ultimately won the debate. As he studied his distant opponents, all Thumos could think about was finishing this firefight as soon as possible.

Command contacted Thumos shortly after he made his resolution, "Commence the operation, Tau One. Fireteam Sigma is inbound."

"Confirmed, Command. Fireteam Tau is on the way," Thumos replied and closed the channel. "Move, Tau." He ran out after the multitude of War Rhinos, concealing himself behind tall golden grasses. His teammates followed closely behind, doing their best to match his speed and stealth. He slowed his pace to match theirs. They couldn't afford to reveal their position, so it would be best to maintain a steady run to ensure a first strike. Occasionally, Thumos would peer out over the canopy of thick grasses to gauge their location with the Cabal's. He wondered where Sigma's exact location was on the Cabal's other flank. Whoever was leading their movements was exceptionally skilled, as Thumos couldn't determine any apparent signs of presence. Fortunately, the Rhinos didn't have the most keen sense of sight. It was the sound and smell that were the largest concerns. Luckily, hiding their scent proved simple as well, as the wind currents were flowing in parallel with the Cabal company. The two Guardian teams now had to follow them until just before the mouth of the gulch. Quietly. It was a risky move, but there they would attack; set the plan into motion.

Thumos signaled that there were about sixty seconds until they would make their assault. Their timing would determine the success of the Guardians' entire strategy. He breathed in as deeply as he could while maintaining a silent cover and bit his lip. First shifting his shotgun to his left hand, Thumos removed a grenade like device from his belt and motioned for his subordinates to do the same. He opened up the channel to Sigma, clicked it twice, and waited for their response. Two clicks sounded and he and his teammates primed the devices. After three counts, they stood and threw them toward the crowd of behemoths. Grunts of surprise and frustration were soon drowned out by six dull blasts that released single pulses of energy in radial discharges.

The Cabal soldiers roared with fury, their hideous maws full of razor sharp teeth gaping open. Fireteam Tau and Sigma opened fire on the Rhinos, and were met with an expected defensive maneuver. Legionnaires began to form a phalanx of overlapped slabs of metal. Confident with their superior defensive formation and difference in numbers, the Cabal warriors marched toward the Guardian attackers, bashing their shields with their weapons.

"Step back!" Thumos shouted at his subordinates as he withdrew an ash gray and charcoal black machine gun from his back. He couldn't help but grin as he pulled the trigger and watched as the bright flaming orange streaks of light penetrated the Cabal armor with ease. Even without the pulse grenades that were designed to weaken metallic alloy bonds and reduce them to brittle sheets of steel, Thumos' "Hail of Fire" could have still punctured their armor.

Confused and shocked, the Cabal began to retreat from the lines Thumos fired upon, and his team stood at his side as they pressed forward and continued to fire an onslaught of destruction upon their enemies. They could hear Sigma's gunfire on the other side, but the repulsive screams of the dying Legionnaires soon overwhelmed the battlefield and the force desperately tried to reach the ravine for advantageous positions. Their pursuers stopped and watched as they ran to the mouth of the cramped gully.

"Hold your position, Tau," Thumos stated as he eagerly watched the Cabal flee. "It's going as planned."

They observed as the fore of the intruders reached the mouth, and a deafening series of explosions crashed at the top of the cliffs. The demolition teams couldn't have engineered their trap any more effectively. Dozens of boulders, weighing several tons apiece crumbled and rained down on the Cabal and crushed them before they could breach the gully. The chaos and thinned numbers would prove to be the Guardians' best opening and they charged for the gargantuan cloud of dust.

"Earth has fallen!" Thumos shouted into the channel reserved for the main body of the Guardian forces. "Attack immediately!"

There was no pause as several FOTC drop ships soared over the battered cliffs above. Nearly a dozen complete fireteams made sky drops and dove to the ground with the aid of Warlocks' Glide maneuvers. They hit the ground firing their weapons into the noticeable targets at the edge of the madness. Even the demolition teams overhead stood on what was left of the cliff side and fired upon the discernable Cabal soldiers. Thumos was amazed that the strategy went so smoothly, but decided not to question it for long and began to lead his team to the dust just beginning to clear.

Just before they reached it, a pair of terrifying roars of rage tore the air apart and the Guardians all around stopped in their tracks, waiting to see what had produced them. The air was thick with a nerve wracking silence. Every man and woman could hear their heavy breathing. A sole Guardian's voice broke the silence with a horrified scream, "Praetorians!"

The ground quaked and shuddered, and two Cabal, much more immense than their Legionnaire and Centurion counterparts, stormed after the Guardian forces. Their furious exhales and explosive stampede cleared what dust remained and the two leaders were followed by the remainder of their subordinate warriors.

Thumos watched as one of the Cabal Praetorians swept its huge spear across the space before it, smashing into several Guardians and sending their limp bodies into the air. The impact of the dead men hitting the earth woke him up and he saw the other Praetorian charge its gigantic cannon up for devastating effects. "Run!" Thumos shouted, hoping they would be able to escape the radius that would soon be nothing more than fire and ash. He and his team bolted in different directions and a mortar blast screamed to the dirt they just stood on. The concussive force sent Thumos flying and he landed on his back. He instantly rolled back to his feet and noticed that only he and Brecho had survived the blast. "Brecho, don't stand still! Anticipate their shots and evade them at all costs!" The young Titan nodded in response to his order and they split up, continuing to move about the battlefield as the Praetorians fired slow blasts around them. Many Guardians adapted to the situation in the same way, but for some, they reacted too late, and were caught by the giants' spears or cannons with ruthless and gruesome deaths. A chaotic storm of gunfire and energy engulfed the area, and Warlocks wore themselves out as they charged Nova Bombs to their maximum charges and launched them at the Cabal resistance.

The battle of attrition proved costly for both fronts, and soon fewer than two dozen Guardians stood against the two Praetorians and a handful of Legionnaires.

A plan of attack was necessary, and the Guardians couldn't afford any mistakes. "Warlocks, I need you to create an opening. Titans and Hunters on me!" Thumos commanded and sprinted toward the remaining Rhinos, sidestepping in order to make himself a harder target. Several Guardians followed suit, including the young Brecho. Momentarily, about half a dozen Nova Bombs were sent spiraling toward the Rhinos and exploded in destructive brilliance, killing the remaining Legionnaires in the process. "Golden Gun, Hunters! Aim for the face!" Thumos ordered and heard the marksmen skid to a halt and begin firing pin point precise bullets of gold into the Praetorians' disgusting faces. They reeled backward, showing signs of disorientation and panic. "Titans! Put everything you can muster into this! Break their legs!" Arcs of energy danced in the air and sparked as the Titans charged into the fray with electrically infused Fists of Havoc. They threw all of their momentum into a tempest of mad blows, striking the joints and lengths of the Praetorian limbs. Some Titans even tackled their legs with their shoulders. Thumos could feel their bones fracture with each strike and unrelentingly continued to punch the tree trunk thick limbs. He and another Titan made the final blows on each Praetorian and shattered their tibias. Unable to bear the excruciating pain and weight of their massive bodies, the dazed Praetorians fell to the ground, writhing as wildly as behemoths their sizes could. "Finish it!" He and the other Titan slammed flurries of punches down on the gnashing, gruesome faces of the elites, and finished the slaughter with hammer fist blows to their skulls. Their struggling instantly halted, and the fatigued Titans backpedaled, inhaling deeply as all of the kills were confirmed.

"Command," Thumos panted. "It's over. Requesting immediate extraction. We have wounded."

"Drop ships are inbound. Aurion Kaiah is leading the medical teams accompanying evac. Well done, Guardians. The City thanks you all for your bravery."

Although relieved to hear the news, Thumos didn't hesitate to close the channel, remove his helmet, and rest. All he wanted at the moment was to catch his breath, as did the rest of the Guardians there.

"Ha, I see ya're still a sprinter, Titan."

There was no amount of exhaustion that could prevent Thumos from looking for the man who just spoke. A fully armored Hunter in familiar gray and orange armor stood a few feet away from Thumos and a towering black and crimson tinted Exo stepped forward from behind him.

"Been a while, hasn't it, Thumos?" Kaeneth sighed as he removed his helmet. He grinned widely at the tired Titan.

"Well, well. Who would have thought I would have seen you two again?" Thumos joked, although honestly shocked.

Kaeneth chuckled and shot back with his own comment, "It'll take more ta' kill me than a few Fallen Captains, ya' stupid fool."

Thumos, smiling, shook his head and pulled himself up from the ground and approached his old acquaintances. Having believed they died, buried questions and memories of gratitude began to resurface as he thought about how he had been mistaken these past few years. "Let's just say you weren't that impressive then. I didn't know any better," Thumos retaliated behind a toothy grin and left out an open hand to Kaeneth. "It's good to see you again."

"Aye, it is," Kaeneth said, shaking Thumos' hand. "Ya' remember Kauson, don't ya?"

"I do," Thumos stated, holding his hand out for the imposing Exo, "Good to see you're still well, Kauson." The Exo glared at Thumos' gauntlet as if unimpressed, and didn't return the gesture.

"Ah, forgive Kauson's poor manners," Kaeneth apologized. "Let's just say he's grown up now."

"What do you mean?" Thumos asked, too curious to ignore the odd change in character Kauson had gone through.

"Well, Exo have an adaptive processing system that allows 'em ta' create and develop a personality from their experiences," Kaeneth explained, looking up at Kauson who was looking straight ahead with intense eyes. "Put an Exo in a home, and its personality will turn out like a butler. Put him in countless harsh battles, and ya' get this," he said, tossing his hand up toward Kauson. "Don't take his attitude personally. It's just how his mind works now."

Thumos nodded, understanding, but marveled by the technology that was housed in an Exo. "What have you been doing these last three years? If I remember correctly, you weren't in a fireteam back then. What are the chances I would find both of you here if you weren't working together?"

"Smart man, Thumos," Kaeneth laughed. "Aye, Kauson and I have been working together for close ta' three years now. Been under the name o' Fireteam Sigma since."

"Sigma?" Thumos murmured. "So you two were part of the other scouting team. No wonder I couldn't tell where you were."

Kaeneth pursed his lips with pride, "Damn right, ya' couldn't find us. Who else would have led the team that well?"

"So where's your third member?" Thumos queried.

"Ah, him," Kaeneth mumbled, glancing at Kauson. "That bastard's a lazy coward. Too many times he's driven us mad. Good riddance, if ya' ask me."

"Did he fall?"

"No, he's alive and well, but I hear he's going ta' be honorably discharged. I don't know why, nor will he tell us, but I'm not complaining. I'm glad I don't have ta' work with him any longer. He's the man ya' were talkin' ta' and this was his last op."

"So more than likely your fireteam will disband."

"Aye, that we will, but we'll manage as always," Kaeneth replied.

"Fireteam Tau will probably be sidelined as well. We lost a good man today, and it could take some time before it gets back into commission." Thumos thought of Tritos taking the brunt of the blast earlier and mourned privately.

"Sorry ta' hear it, Thumos," Kaeneth hung his head solemnly. "Too many deaths and not enough victories."

Thumos nodded in agreement, still in thought, "I never had the opportunity to thank you two. If you hadn't stopped me in the valley years ago, I probably wouldn't be standing here right now."

Kaeneth and Kauson, not expecting such words, simply stared at him without response. After a pause too long for discussion, Kaeneth broke the silence, "Ya' don't give yourself enough credit, Titan. Ya're a tough bastard. That much has been confirmed for me today."

Realizing the effect his gratitude had on them, Thumos left his thanks at that. He could only imagine what they were thinking, but was content with their answer. Even Kauson's lonely gaze carried a different look than a moment ago.

"Here's a thought," Thumos began. "Both of us have incomplete teams at the moment. Who knows how long it'll be before the FOTC gets them up and running again. What do you say we work together for a while?"

"And what o' the other kid in Tau?" Kaeneth asked.

"He'll understand. And surely you know that very few Guardians in the FOTC's relief teams hold loyalties for long. Brecho will find a team he can call his own soon enough." Thumos thought about his younger subordinate, and although he had kept a close eye on him for a long time now, he realized it was best for both of them to part ways here. "So how about it?"

Kaeneth stroked his thick stubble, pondering the idea, "What do ya' think, Kauson?"

"I do not give a damn," the Exo responded coldly.

The Scot exhaled with a deep sigh, "Okay, agreed. A pleasure ta' work with ya', Titan."

"Likewise," Thumos nodded firmly at his new teammates. "What should we name this fireteam?"

"Hell if I know," Kaeneth shrugged with a crooked grin pasted on his face.


The transport shuttle rocked and barreled toward the Tower's docks. Inside, Thumos, Kaeneth, and Kauson sat in silence amidst the dimly lit passenger bay, swaying to and fro from the turbulence. On call, they were on their way to a form of transportation more suitable to reach their distant destination.

"Ya' say your goodbyes?" Kaeneth asked while looking over his large anti-material sniper rifle. Thumos didn't reply at first, deep in thought on the very subject. "Thumos?"

"I did," Thumos sighed. "Again."

"What's the matter?" Kaeneth, now more concerned, asked his teammate.

Thumos' furrowed gaze dropped to the floor, "It's getting harder."

"Ta' say goodbye," Kaeneth said, finishing his statement. Knowing the Titan for so long, a verbal response wasn't needed to confirm the fact.

The thought had always been there, but Thumos had eluded it for years. But as of late, he couldn't ignore it anymore. "This will be my last operation," he said after clearing his throat.

Both Kaeneth and Kauson snapped their shocked gazes to Thumos, utterly disbelieving what they just heard. "Ya're going ta' resign?" the Scot queried, now even more worried.

"I am," Thumos groaned, leaning his head back on his seat, the dull lights glistening in his sunken red eyes. "I can't keep doing this to them."

Kauson stared at the Titan, his usually intimidating pair of flaming orange eyes shimmered almost somberly in the dark bay. Kaeneth, appearing saddened by the news, leaned forward and ran his hands through his hair, exhaling deeply, "So this is it?"

Thumos nodded, "Let's finish it strong."

For the rest of the short flight, no further words were exchanged. The Guardians merely prepared for their mission in the gloomy passenger bay, waiting for their drop off.

When they reached the Tower, the ship's hatch hissed open and they were welcomed by the dock's comfortable soft light. Exiting the drop ship, they were greeted by their old home away from home, the Volframio. It was an impressive vessel, designed for high velocities, maximum maneuverability, and optimal stealth capabilities. She was one of the fireteam's most prized possessions; their pride and joy. As they approached the craft, a soft gray luminescence appeared from its own black entrance, floating above the ground and stopping in front of the team.

"Petros, is the ship ready for flight?" Thumos asked with a hardened tone.

"When is it not, Thumos? In the fifteen years we have cooperated with each other, have you known me to fall short?" the suave Ghost asked crisply. "This vessel is under my care, after all. There should not be a doubt in mind."

"Just checking to see if you're as sharp as ever," Thumos responded, walking past the stone polished gray machine. "We should leave immediately."

Petros' lights flickered. Several shades of gray buzzed erratically as he watched the man enter the ship, "He is acting oddly."

"He is leaving," Kauson said coarsely. "This is his final mission." The usually prompt Exo, rarely pausing for anything, took a moment before he followed Thumos into the ship. The Ghost rotated and peered at Kaeneth, who was still reflecting on the matter, refusing to respond to him.

They slowly made their way to the Volframio as well, sharing the same sense of sorrow as the rest of the team. Shortly after they were all onboard, the ship's engines hummed to life, and it rose from the cold steel floor, its landing gear retracting back into the belly of the craft. Petros, piloting the Volframio, rotated it perfectly and the vessel shot out of the dock at an incredible speed toward Mars, where Fireteam Shachal would fight their last battle side by side.


"Give me your assessment, Guardian!" Thumos called loudly, trying to speak over the thunderous explosions and screaming bullets, both near and far. His teammates followed closely behind as the Volframio ascended from the ground, creating a whirlwind of red sand as it took off into the atmosphere.

The squad leader trotted up to him, flinching at the sound of every ricocheting round in the vicinity, "Progress reports from the eastern districts of the Buried City have come back with positive results, sir. The Fallen and Cabal have been pushed back and our forces are moving west now in order to rejoin the frontlines here."

"And what of the western front? That's where the heaviest resistance lies, correct?" Thumos asked, watching the Hunter intently.

"We haven't been able to regain contact with the western districts. Our transmissions aren't getting through, so we don't know if the Guardians there are even alive," the Hunter said. "We sent a reconnaissance team in order to detail what happened to them, but we haven't heard from them for some time either."

"Keep pushing north, Guardian. When you reach the central district, rendezvous with the eastern forces and regroup with us in the west. Understood?" Thumos ordered the man with an objectivity that had been all too recognizable in battle over the past fifteen years.

"Yes, sir," the Hunter replied, spinning around and relaying the orders to his subordinates.

Kaeneth shifted on his heel and looked at Thumos, "I take it we're looking for the recon team?"

"We need to know what they found. If they discovered a weak spot on the enemy defenses, then we need to find them and determine where to pressure their lines. That information could help us win this," the Titan explained. "Let's move, Shachal." The fireteam raced off to the western side of the ruins, keeping themselves concealed in the shadows of the city's claustrophobic alleys and streets.

"Kaeneth, I'm going to need your eyes to be as sharp as possible," Thumos requested with a whisper.

"Ya' can count on me, ma' friend. Ma' eyes are like an eagle's," Kaeneth bragged.

"I need you to look for any areas a recon team would hide if their routes were blocked off," Thumos said.

"Aye, I'll be looking," Kaeneth answered as he led his teammates through the Buried City's red labyrinth.

The three Guardians had worked together for so long, it was no surprise that they had picked up on each other's skill sets, weaknesses, and strategies. Although varying slightly amongst them, they had all developed similar capabilities over the years that most Guardians typically wouldn't possess. Kaeneth's speed and stealth were unmatched, and even though they weren't as exceptional as he was, Thumos and Kauson developed the ability to run at high speeds while remaining light footed. With that, their ability to react quickly in accordance with each other had improved significantly, and when Kaeneth halted at a building's corner in the alley, his comrades responded in the same manner.

"Vandals ahead," he whispered. "Raiders are with 'em. Ma' guess, they're a scouting party."

"Do you see where our recon team might be hiding?" Thumos asked quietly.

"Looking," Kaeneth replied, scanning the environment. "If it were me, I would go there." He pointed at a series of buildings far to the other side of the Fallen scouts. "Plenty o' high sight lines, rooms ta' move about in, and multiple escape routes. Shadows help too."

"The Fallen would think of that as well," said Kauson.

"Aye, they would, but that might be what our boys are wanting," Kaeneth responded.

"If they can get what's impeding them to move, then they can slip through the opening and escape," Thumos murmured as he watched the Fallen soldiers attentively.

"Exactly," Kaeneth said with a smile. "And as I said, they have plenty o' ways ta' get out o' that complex. There aren't enough o' the Fallen scouts ta' cover all o' the exits. "

"What do you plan to do, Thumos?" Kauson asked.

"There's no guarantee they'll do as Kaeneth would. We're going in to look for them." Thumos waited for the enemy scouts to avert their attention from the Guardians' direction before sprinting across the street and ducking below the rubble of a leveled building from ages past. Kaeneth and Kauson followed suit and the fireteam patiently made their way to the buildings just ahead.

They found themselves at the dark and final stretch not long after beginning their approach, and Shachal entered the nearest structure, beginning their search for the recon team. The gusts of wind whistled in the ghost-like city's hollow facilities. A complementing sense of care followed Shachal throughout the office building, and the fireteam couldn't execute their movements more efficiently. They scoured nearly the entirety of the complex when they heard a screech and groan in the floor ahead. Raising their weapons, Thumos eased forward with Kauson next to him, and Kaeneth watching their backs. They swung their rifles around the corner, only to find an Awoken Guardian leaning against the wall under a window. He was breathing heavily and clutched his side, glistening red with blood.

"Reinforcements, huh?" he coughed.

"What happened, Guardian?" Thumos asked, kneeling next to the man.

"Got too close," the Awoken soldier struggled. "We were tailing a Fallen and Cabal detail to the edge of the city. A meeting I think. They were retrieving something from an excavation site. Something big. They found us. Killed my team. I managed to slip away," he chuckled, spurting out blood. "But they got me."

"What were they retrieving?" Thumos asked.

"Don't know. The tech wasn't Fallen or Cabal in origin, but it seemed important to them," the Awoken man gasped.

"Thank you, soldier. Rest easy," Thumos said, setting his gauntlet on the Guardian's shoulder.

"Sir?"

"Yes," Thumos answered.

"Give 'em hell," the Guardian requested.

Thumos nodded firmly at his comrade, "You can count on it." The Guardian smiled before his eyes went dark and he breathed his last, his arm falling to his side next to his weapon.

Thumos lowered his head, closed the soldier's eyes, and paid his respects to the man, "Let's get going."

"Are we regrouping with the main force?" Kauson asked.

"No," Thumos replied whilst standing up. "We're going to find that troop and recover that tech."

"After ya', Thumos," Kaeneth tossed his head to his right.

The team's acknowledged leader made his way back down to the facility's first floor, and was followed by his two closest and most trusted allies. Thumos knew he could count on them to help him complete this task and they would accomplish it without fail.


"Petros, I need you to do me a favor," Thumos said over the comm.

"And what would that be?" Petros asked promptly.

"I need you to bring the Volframio over the city and run a scan for any high energy signatures. Exclude Fallen, Cabal, and Guardian readings.

"Running a scan with that number of variables will take some time, Thumos," said Petros.

"Then you better get to it right away," Thumos responded. "I need those coordinates as soon as possible."

"Understood. I will inform you as soon as I complete the search."
"What do ya' intend ta' do in the meantime?" Kaeneth asked, propping his sniper rifle up on his shoulder.

"I doubt they'll leave that tech under light guard. There's probably an escort accompanying its transportation. And if it's large, there's a chance it hasn't reached the heart of the western district where they're strongest. We'll head where the recon team saw the Fallen take this device. Until Petros can find a specific location, there's a possibility we might find it first. At the very least, Petros can be on standby for a hot extraction."

"Let's not waste any time, then," Kaeneth said and bolted for the western edge of the Buried City, Thumos and Kauson racing next to him.

Scores of buildings had been passed, and dozens of streets, all worn and weathered, bore signs of recent and ancient destruction alike. The Martian sands were unforgiving as the winds grew stronger. The reduced visibility was an equal fortune as a hindrance, as they were allowed to move much faster in the veil of reddish dust, but were unable to see much themselves.

Thumos skidded to a halt when he caught an indistinct glimpse of what appeared to be a caravan moving east, north of their position. "Kaeneth, lend me your scope," he whispered.

The Hunter crouched to one knee and peered through his rifle's scope, trying to examine the distant foes, "If that doesn't look like a convoy, then I don't know what it could be. What do ya' want ta' do?"

"We're going after it, but keep it stealthy. I want to take as many as we can out before inciting a firefight," Thumos explained. Shachal made chase, sprinting through the sands whipping around the air like a violent storm, steeling themselves for their next battle.

When they arrived, Shachal silently crawled into one of the buildings that overlooked the stretch of road blanketed in dunes. A long line of troops traipsed through the fine grains of red to the heart of the Buried City. Kaeneth scanned the fore of the line with the maximum zoom on his rifle, and saw a large prismatic device that was tethered to a Cabal trailer of sorts. It was being hauled by Legionnaires and the company's commanders led the line of soldiers.

"How many targets would you say there are?" Thumos asked the Hunter, trying to discern the numbers himself.

"About fifty Fallen and Cabal total, including their leaders at the front," Kaeneth replied, lifting his gaze from his scope. "What's the plan, Thumos?"

"I don't have much of one. Work our way forward from the back. Eliminate them quietly for as long as we can," Thumos sighed.

Kaeneth shrugged, "We'll have ta' make it work, I guess."

"Slow that prism down when they catch on, Kaeneth. Stay here and snipe whatever you can get a clear shot on. Kauson, come with me," Thumos ordered, leaning back up and making way for the exit.

"Aye, got ya'," Kaeneth confirmed, nestling himself down on the soft patch of sand at the corner building's second floor window. Thumos and Kauson departed for the rear of the enemy convoy to initiate the attack.

Thumos clicked the comm, signaling to begin their strategy's execution, "Engage." Kaeneth bided his time as his teammates crept up behind the ignorant Fallen grunts, snapping their necks and slashing their throats with their combat knives. The howling gales and heavy deposits of sand muffled the sound of their falling bodies as the Guardians continued their assassinations. That is, until they closed in on the first of the few Cabal guards. Shachal kept their distance, knowing their scent would soon be caught by the beasts' keen noses. They withdrew their weapons before the Rhinos caught on, prepared for the fight to get loud. The gray skinned brutes slowed, sniffing the air deeply, and began to growl with anticipation in their foreign tongue. Before they could discover their opponents, Thumos and Kauson attacked at close range and immediately dropped the partially aware Legionnaires, startling the rest of the force as soon as their comrades hit the ground.

"Fire, Kaeneth!" Thumos shouted into the team's comm, raising his shotgun, firing blasts of buckshot into the closest charging targets. The team's Hunter fired at the Cabal trailer, disabling its functionality. Earsplitting gunfire erupted in the street and the Guardians were forced to dive to cover.

A series of thunderous cracks tore through the air, and the nearest Cabal soldiers fell to the destructive power of Kaeneth's sniper rifle, "I'll take care o' the Cabal! Get ta' the device!"

Thumos nodded at Kauson and the two Guardians vaulted the rubble they had their backs against and stormed the battlefield with merciless tendencies. Both fired swift killing shots into their foes' vitals and pressed forward at an imposing pace. Battle being second nature to them, they knew when to move, take cover, and kill. With the combined efforts of all three soldiers, Thumos and Kauson reached the fore of the lines in little time. There, they were confronted by a Fallen Captain, a Centurion, several Fallen warriors, and the two Legionnaires charged with pulling the strange prismatic device.

The Captain and Centurion roared with fury, throwing their broad chests out with pride, and pointed to their enemies, barking orders to their subordinates. The various Fallen troops immediately responded to their commanders, howled with anger, and charged after their adversaries. The Legionnaires planted themselves between the Guardians and the strange tech in tow, their gigantic shields buried in the dirt in front of them. Few of the Fallen opposition offered any threat and many were easily dispatched by the precise firepower the Guardians wielded.

The Captain snarled with disgust and growled at his remaining warriors, rallying them as he rushed for the battlefield, his two swords glowing with intense heat. The Centurion barked at one of the device's guards and they both charged after Thumos, rage swelling in their roars. He backpedaled and fired his shotgun into the Legionnaire, who deflected the pellets with his shield. Realizing it was a futile effort, Thumos immediately switched to his LMG, stood his ground, and fired it into his pursuer. The heavy hitting rounds punched through the steel shield and reaped overwhelming damage on the Legionnaire behind it. The larger Centurion tackled the corpse of his subordinate and tossed it aside, not allowing it to slow his stampede. Obviously trying to trample Thumos underfoot, the Titan compensated for the Centurion's pursuit and sidestepped to avoid the impact. Although able to prevent serious injury, he was struck by the Cabal and was launched backwards, landing on his back, but lost his machine gun in the process. Even so, the Centurion, unrelenting, bellowed wrathfully and continued to attack the Guardian.

Meanwhile, Kauson was confronted by the Cabal's allies, and with his powerful mechanical body, crushed the advance of the weaker Fallen attackers. "Atos, eliminate the Cabal guard!"

"I can't! I'll hit the cargo!" Kaeneth responded.

"Then kill one of the leaders!" the Exo yelled.

"No shots yet! That Cabal bastard isn't giving Thumos any space and that Captain is ta' ya're right, Kauson!"

Kauson responded to Kaeneth's information in a fraction of a second, spun and ducked as the unusually large Captain swung his blades with murderous intent. He heard Kaeneth fire shots at the remaining Fallen grunts as he parried and dodged the Captain's flurries.

"Cabal drop ship inbound!" Kaeneth shouted over the team's comm.

"Don't let them take the cargo, Kaeneth!" Thumos ordered in desperation.

"I'm on it!"

When the shuttle descended, wide doors were already open and Cabal Legionnaires poured out and began to retrieve the trailer. A series of loud shots ripped through the air, and began to drop the Cabal soldiers as they emerged. Legionnaires formed a linear phalanx, placing their shields in front of their Cabal allies heaving the trailer onto their ship.

"Damn it! They're getting away!" Kaeneth fired a well placed shot through the Centurion's temple, killing the rabid beast instantly. "I'm out o' ammo! Thumos, it's up ta' ya'!"

Kauson continued to battle with the skilled Captain, but felt himself losing ground as the Fallen's swords slashed after him increasingly faster. The muscular warrior kicked the Exo and sent him reeling backwards. Before Kauson could regain his composure, he watched as a glowing guillotine started to come down on him. Before he could meet his expiration, something heavy hit him and sent him flying to his right, a loud gunshot firing almost simultaneously. Kauson leaned up as soon as he hit the ground and saw the Fallen Captain holding his torso. He roared triumphantly over the still body of Thumos. He glared maliciously at Kauson and growled indistinguishably in his native tongue before retreating swiftly toward the Cabal drop ship. The Exo shot up to his feet and tried to fire upon the fleeing Captain, but couldn't lift his left arm. It was partially slashed from the Fallen's blade and was rendered immobile. Kauson was left to watch as their enemy escaped with their prize in tow as well.

He fell to his knees at the side of his comrade. Kaeneth arrived at a dead sprint, panting heavily as he slid to Thumos' side as well, his hands shaking above the deep gash that trailed across the length of his torso.

Bleeding profusely, Thumos struggled to speak, "Helmet." Kaeneth carefully removed the Titan's helmet to see half of his face covered in blood.

"You have a family, damn it! What were you thinking?!" Kauson roared with his hoarse, mechanical tone. "I am nothing but a machine!"

Thumos smiled weakly, "Shut the hell up, Kauson. What do you think I was doing?"

Kauson recoiled from Thumos' implication, and was forced into silence. He glanced at Kaeneth, who had already rested on his heels, and was met with his shaking head and somber gaze. Both Guardians looked at their friend, helpless and dying.

Thumos understood his plight as he watched their eyes and spoke as strongly as he could, "Don't look so damn depressed." He coughed, showing signs of intense pain. "We had a good run, didn't we?"

"Damn right, we did," Kaeneth stammered heavily, nodding as tears streamed down his face. Kauson, incapable of such a thing, simply watched his best friend, still not wanting to believe what was before his very eyes.

"Can you do something for me?" Thumos hoarsely wheezed.

"What is it?" Kauson asked.

Thumos reached his hand out and the Warlock clasped it tightly, "See to the end of this hell. Please. I don't want them to be a part of it." Kauson and Kaeneth nodded and hung their heads lowly. "Thank you, my friends," Thumos choked, shaking Kauson's metallic fist. "Thank you." The two Guardians watched their friend and leader pass quietly before them, sitting amidst the blood stained sand swirling around them.

"Petros, lock in on our coordinates for extraction," Kauson said monotonously.

"Kauson, what happened to Thumos? His vital signatures flat-lined," said Petros, his voice full of concern.

"The mission failed," the Exo said coldly.

A long pause passed before the Ghost answered, "Understood."

Kauson closed the comm and stood up. He looked upon the lifeless body of Shachal's leader, a strange sense overwhelming him in ways he didn't comprehend. The Exo walked over to Thumos' machine gun partly buried in the sand and retrieved it with his functioning arm. Even the man's weapon felt different, as if empty and devoid of life itself. Kauson returned to his teammates and laid the rifle next to its owner. Kauson, Kaeneth, and Petros did not exchange another word that day. The Guardian force fled Mars with only a few of their fallen comrades, defeated in more ways than one.


The memorial service was a gloomy sight to behold. It had been many years since such an event had been held. The Battle of the Buried City produced casualties beyond imagination for the City's inhabitants, and many people lost dear family and friends to the gluttonous appetite of war. Many Guardians suffered grievous wounds in the battle and couldn't make it to the service. Only a little more than a hundred survivors were in attendance. Thousands of mourning families and friends were present in the amphitheater fashioned from marble, granite, and polished stone. The Chief Councilman, Meizon Meros of the Seven Seraphs administration, served as the memorial's speaker, and aside from the weeping of thousands, the people listened to Councilman Meros intently.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all; fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, for providing us your presence here today as we honor our perished heroes from the Battle of the Buried City. It pains me greatly to know that so many of our beloved Guardians fell, and equally so, to witness the grief you are all facing. I won't ask you to wipe your tears away. I won't ask you to forget what our loved ones sacrificed for us. Instead I beseech you: Remember. Remember them and never forget today. We are all aware of what Guardians stand for. What they are willing to risk on the battlefield for our sakes here at home. Honor their code. Cherish it. I am confident that many of them would have their own personal requests, but I truly believe that if there was ever a mutual desire our Guardians shared, it would be this: Do not falter. Do not lose heart. For the day we do, we will surely perish as well, and not one of us will remain to remember those who sacrificed so much. Remember them, my friends, for that is what they fight for. May the legacy of our heroes live on in future generations. May it be remembered."

Some cheered with respect. Most cried uncontrollably, still chewing on the reality of their cherished ones' deaths. Others, Guardians primarily, stood tall for their comrades and saluted, tears rolling down their cheeks if they were capable of such a show of emotion. Kaeneth stood at attention near the podium the Chief Councilman spoke at, dressed in formal FOTC funeral attire. Next to the Scot, stood Kauson, out of place with his worn and battered metallic body. But the Exo stood taller than any other in the outdoor auditorium, doing his best to appear like a collected soldier amidst the sorrow. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't do so. Even being a machine, he desperately wanted to deny what happened. He was distracted when he saw a young boy sitting in the front row, staring blankly at the stage, his eyes red and glossed over with tears. The boy bore a striking resemblance to his friend, and looked so broken as he listened to the Chief Councilman begin voicing his statement on the induction of Vanguards.

"Family and friends, though every man and woman who fought valiantly on Mars will be honored as heroes, the Council and FOTC have recognized some Guardians from the Battle of the Buried City for their substantial contributions to the efforts of war, and want to commemorate their service as Guardians by inducting them into our records as Vanguards of the Last City. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, men who delved deep into the heart of the Buried City on Mars to risk their lives for the betterment of our great City. We honor these men for their long-time service and feats for our people. Kaeneth Atos and Kauson Sideros of Fireteam Shachal."

Every Guardian in attendance stood and saluted the two soldiers who silently stepped forward in unison. They flinched at the sight of the gestures their brothers and sisters in arms gave them. Neither felt deserving of such a dignified status or title and could hardly maintain a refined posture as their eyes wavered and Kaeneth shed a sole tear, reliving that battle yet again. They both stepped back when the Councilman spoke again.

"There is another that we must name. Unfortunately, he fell in this battle and we will miss him and the rest of our fallen champions immensely in respect of their ultimate sacrifices. If you would, please stand for Thumos Katenos of Fireteam Shachal."

Every present soul able to stand did so simultaneously as a large tapestry was pulled away from a statue detailing the man himself, Thumos Katenos. Kauson and Kaeneth spun on their heels and snapped to attention, saluting and gazing upon the image of their friend, although it wasn't him. Kauson peeled his eyes away and looked at the boy who stared at the statue, sadness replacing his once blank eyes. Kauson blinked as he watched the child cry alone in the crowd. He reflected on Thumos' final wish, and realized he had to win this war. No matter what it would cost him. This was his vow.

Because of the death of Thumos Katenos, and due to the fact that they couldn't find a suitable replacement, Fireteam Shachal was decommissioned from active service and the team disbanded. Although crossing paths occasionally, Kauson and Kaeneth saw little of each other after their team's termination was finalized. Kauson was eventually promoted to Commander of the FOTC and Kaeneth continued to provide his experience on the battlefield, refusing any promotion that would take him away from field duty. Although historically significant, Shachal was eventually forgotten by many of the younger generations, but would forever be remembered by its surviving members.


Kauson hated his office. As he ran through document after document, he despised it more and more. Fifteen years had passed, and the Exo hadn't forgotten a single detail, no matter how trivial some might have believed it to be. He shuffled through the forms with frustration. Many times he missed the battlefield. Most times he was able to get beyond the Wall and get involved with some skirmishes, though the High Council and FOTC were against his irresponsibility. As a Commander and Vanguard, the leaders of the City expected him to stay put behind the sanctuary of the Wall, but Kauson could never deny that his place was in the middle of a fight. And the generals and politicians knew this. There was little they could do. Even stripping him of his rank and title wouldn't change that, as they valued the veteran's vast experience greatly. So allowing him to maintain his position in the City gave them the ability to keep a close eye on him. Often times the Exo would stir in his office and remember the days Fireteam Shachal fought the enemy on the frontlines of many battles. He also thought about the day he and Kaeneth met Thumos and saved him from certain death, and how the roles reversed the day Thumos sacrificed himself for Kauson's miniscule life. Few Exo had so many memories flooding their minds, but if the praise mattered any to Kauson, he would be able to boast about it. Though one thing was certain, Neither he or Kaeneth wanted any recognition for their presence in the Battle of the Buried City. Despite their protests, the higher ups decided to give them the honor anyway. It seemed only soldiers understood the gravity of the title of Vanguard, and felt like only a special few Guardians deserved to be called such. As far as they were concerned, they didn't consider themselves worthy. Both shared the same piece of mind. Thumos alone should have been given that honor.

Today, like most other days for the past several years, Kauson contemplated about these matters to himself and neglected his work. The night was in its earliest morning hours when the silence hanging over his office was broken by the sharp chime of his comm resting on his heavy duty desk. His fiery orange eyes glanced at the device and he listened to it ring for a short while before accepting the call, "What do you want?"

Over the speaker, a distinguished man's voice rang out clearly, "Greetings, Commander Sideros. I would normally apologize for contacting you at this hour, but I understand there is no difference to you. In any case, I will keep this message short. Your presence has been requested at Council Hall later this morning. We have a matter of special importance to discuss with you, Commander."