300 Years Post-Collapse, Housing District B, Slums Quarter

Undisturbed by the hustle and bustle of the nearby markets, the apartment belonging to one of many Guardians of The City instead laid dormant. Metal slat windows were popped open, letting in a soft glow of golden light, occasionally disrupted by a passing shuttle or Guardian ship. The living room was fairly cluttered, a table littered with piles of bounties set by other residents of The City sitting prominently in the center. Whether it be a request for a certain piece of ancient knowledge or tech, or the head of a particularly dangerous alien on a long-forgotten colony world, people would pay for anything.

More importantly, the next room over contained the apartment's resident, a Hunter named Merikh, who was sleeping peacefully. Not even slightly bothered by the sounds outside, Merikh was eventually roused from his sleep by his Ghost.

"I believe you need to get up, the others are waiting for you outside of a shop in the Markets." Merikh's Ghost informed, its faintly glowing white form drifting closer to the bed.

"Good morning to you too, Ghost. What do they need me for anyway?" Merikh asked, moving to rub his eyes. This motion was abruptly stopped by the feeling of metal as Merikh realized that he had fallen asleep in full gear. Moving to the mirror, Merikh took in his image as he wondered how he not only blacked out in full gear, but that his hood remained up as well. Painted a custom orange and white coloration, his full Vaquero 1.1 armor set was otherwise unmodified, same with his solid dark orange Cloak of the Leopard.

"Well, they said they have an expedition to the Moon soon, and you have to come with. Also, Caldwell said that Barrett's in an antique shop with Carwyn. He stressed the importance of your immediate presence very heavily." Merikh's Ghost informed, trying to avoid a twinge of amusement from creeping into its voice.

"Knowing those two, I'll be lucky if half the market doesn't want to kill them by the time I get there." Merikh laughed, grabbing his Trax Mallus II Scout Rifle from its propped up position against the wall as he left the room. Slinging the rifle onto his back, Merikh's Ghost flew to catch up, dematerializing as Merikh left the apartment. Stepping out into the messy streets, Merikh took one good look up at the Traveler, his people's last sign of hope, before setting off down the street.

Moving at a quick pace, Merikh almost glided down the streets, using his merely average stature and slim build to weave through, cut around, and nimbly dodge the crowds, the best evidence of his presence being the brief sighting of his faded orange cape and hood. Dancing around the flocks of people, Merikh eventually came to a small, rickety shop. Positioned outside were two of his fellow Guardians, and close friends at that.

The Awoken Alvara, a fellow Hunter, was sitting down with her back against the wall. Her unseen eyes were caught in an aging and withered book, her white and green-camo set of Rustburner armor and Nagari cloak surprisingly blending into the shadowy wall of the shop. Standing upright next to her was the Warlock Caldwell, whose patient posture and grey, washed-out, Thunderdevil-painted armor added to his cold presentation. Specifically the Viper Spine set, the variations were III for the helmet, II for the arms, IV for the legs, and VI for the chest. Almost as if to clash with his grey attire, the Bond wrapped around his bicep was the Spirit of the Vulture.

"Glad you made it. Thankfully Barrett and Carwyn haven't been run out of the shop, but we should still get them out of there before I speak too soon." Caldwell warned, the Banshee-44-like metallic distortion in his voice, which was caused by being an Exo with a slightly damaged vocal unit, only adding to his menace.

"Honestly, I think this is a new record for them." Merikh prodded, pushing his way into the shop with Caldwell behind him. The shop was dark, with walls of antique firearms, books, and various pieces of technology scavenged from the Golden Age placed on a myriad of shelves and racks. Standing behind the counter was a fairly young looking civilian woman, and two massive Titans a small distance away inspecting some antique firearms.

The one on the left, who was slightly more elegant looking in steel and yellow colored Holdfast Type 1 armor, an increased collar of fur wrapping over his neck and left shoulder compared to standard-issue, was the Awoken Carwyn. Slung over his back was a Pulsar MSE Pulse Rifle, with the text Three for Three etched into the right side of the carrying handle, starting above the ammo counter. On the right was the human Barrett, whose poor posture, dark green and brown colored Commando Type 0 armor, and blunt tone of voice telling volumes about the kind of person that he was: loud, upfront, hard to stop, and probably a good substitute for a battering ram..

"Quite interesting…Lever-Action designs were completely phased out before the Golden Age even met its end, how one survived this long and in seemingly working order is a question maybe even the Cryptarch can't answer." Carwyn spoke, largely to himself, in amazement as he aimed down the sights of an antique Lever-Action rifle, the fact that it seemed to still operate properly based on him pulling the trigger and operating the lever serving as a testament to its durability.

"Hey Ghost, what era would'ya pin this gun being from?" Barrett asked as his Ghost materialized beside his head, examining an ancient rifle Barrett was holding.

"The shell appears to be based on a design from the 21st or 22nd Century, but its internal mechanisms are more reminiscent of technology just after the start of the Collapse. Quite peculiar…." Barrett's Ghost pondered, logging its findings for further study later. One thing it did take note of, however, is that the gun's frame bore resemblance to what the City's archives labeled as being called the G36.

"Alright you two gun connoisseurs, time to go. I'm interested to see what's so special on the Moon that we want to contend with the Hive again." Merikh butted in, getting the attention of both Titans. Reluctantly agreeing, the Titans went over to the counter.

"Hey, can you put these aside for us? We'll be back later for 'em." Barrett asked, him and Carwyn passing their respective antiques over to the clerk.

"Sure, don't get gutted by the Thralls." The woman said in a deadpan tone, evidently having overheard Merikh's statement about the Moon. Shrinking back slightly in offense at the woman's blatant lack of faith in a Guardian, and two Titans at that, Carwyn and Barrett opted to silently leave the shop.

"So, what are we going to the Moon for?" Merikh inquired, still curious and quite pressed to know given his highly unpleasant experiences with simulated Thralls in the practice rooms at the Tower. To make matters worse, his childhood didn't exactly leave him with a high opinion of what their power can do.

"A Guardian in Old Russia found a Hive Breeding Ground locked away by the Fallen in an underground chamber near the Cosmodrome, even killed a Wizard. If a Wizard's on Earth, it's not just some strays, it's a plotted and coordinated desire to come back to Earth." Caldwell explained, summoning his Ghost to create a projection against the wall of the shop.

"So we're going to just aimlessly wage war on the Hive? I understand the want to strike first, but attacking the Hive at all is going to be kicking a hornet's nest. Attacking without any aim or direction is going to be like kicking a hornet's nest with a landmine tucked inside." Merikh humorously likened, not feeling comfortable about fighting the Hive without any direction.

"Lucky for you, we do have a direction: That same Guardian opened the doors to a place called the Temple of Crota just a few days ago, and another Fireteam blew open the doors to a place called the Temple of Eir. We're going for the third one, called the Temple of Xol. They're all connected to the Hellmouth, so if we attack from all these different angles, we can thin out the Hive's defenses by forcing them to defend three or more fronts at once." Caldwell explained as his Ghost projected the entryway to the Temple of Xol against the wall, followed by a far-out view of the Hellmouth, a blinking red orb signifying the Temple of Xol's location relative to it.

"Also, something he's conveniently forgetting to tell you: We got assigned this one because of our larger Fireteam, since the Temple of Xol's the most reinforced, most populated, and most heavily defended of the three that Guardians have found so far." Alvara spoke up, having been with Caldwell when The Speaker gave them this mission. Caldwell only glanced at her with what could be assumed as an annoyed 'You had to tell them that?' expression under his helmet. Caldwell's Ghost closing down the projection, the group set off towards The Tower.

"So….we got the tough job by default?" Barrett asked as the group made their way to the nearest Tower-bound shuttle, not really bothered by it.

"More or less. I doubt the Speaker wants to get rid of us for being unconventional, he probably just prefers to use us as overcompensation to avoid losing more Guardians with a normally-sized team." Caldwell guessed, not really quite sure himself.

"Oh, don't mean to dampen anyone's spirits, but after looking over some recon reports that the Hunters who found the Temple of Xol submitted, there's supposedly an unidentified Knight sub-type stationed there. Just wanted to warn everyone in advance." Caldwell's Ghost spoke up, going back into silence right after as it continued to make sense of the semi-blurry images said Hunters sent back. He also explicitly decided to avoid telling the group that one of said photos was the unidentified Knight nearly taking the head off of a Hunter with a strange, Naginata-like weapon.

In addition to that, there was also a strange, hooded figure with a yellow bullpup-configuration rifle standing on the rock ledge in the background, which Caldwell's Ghost had not noticed when the images first came in.

Later, somewhere in Old Russia, 2:15 AM…

Skittering and climbing on and around the wrecked husks of ages-old Main Battle Tanks, a pack of Dregs from the House of Kings descended upon the old weapons of war under directions to scavenge what they could from the firing mechanisms, targeting systems, and if possible, spare ammo. While the large rounds weren't as potent as the actual, Fallen-made rounds loaded into a Devil Walker's main cannon, it was a sufficient substitute. Watched over by a trio of Vandals and a single Captain, the Dregs fervently set about their reclamation efforts, actually kicking, clawing, and hissing at one another in hopes of being the exemplary one that gains the Captain's favor.

Thoroughly enraptured in their task, the Dregs hardly noticed as even more Dregs, these dressed in red armor instead of the Kings' gold, also set upon the tank. Not interested in the tank's supplies, the Dregs instead dug into the King Dregs standing on and around it, setting off a violent brawl as both sides were armed only with their Shock Knives.

Alarmed by the sudden scrap, the Captain prepared to move in closer, his Shrapnel Launcher being more than adequate to take out a few measly Dregs. Letting his higher stature serve as a point of intimidation, the Captain was so transfixed on the Dregs, that he didn't notice as an even larger Fallen than him barreled into him. Sent careening off his feet by the sudden blow, the Captain's breath suddenly became quite strained, almost positive one of his lungs was punctured.

"What…in the world?" The Captain choked out, dazed and confused. Looking up at his assailant, the Captain's shock turned to dread as his assailant stepped into the flickering street-light ahead, being even taller than a Captain. Dressed in armor similar to a Kell's, his assailant was from the House of Devils, just like the Dregs, but possessed a thin string belt laced with the skulls of various races, from a human skull to an Exo's detached and deactivated head, even possessing the skull of a Cabal and the detached eye of a Vex. Criss-crossed with that belt was another string belt, this one intertwined with the torn scraps of various House flags, ranging from the House of Kings to the Wolves, even toting an strange green flag piece that the Captain didn't recognize. "Riksis…."

The Vandals raising their Shock Rifles in defense of their Captain, their attention was quickly skewed as a distant noise rang out, followed by the punctual sight of a Vandal's brain-matter leaving his head, dropping to the floor in wake of the Wire Rifle shot that caused it. Looking around for the source of the shot, the other two Vandals didn't know which way to look as Riksis advanced, carelessly stepping onto and over the chest of the downed Captain as another Vandal hit the floor, incapacitated by a Wire Rifle round to the knee. Vainly opening fire on Riksis, the third Vandal was mercilessly blown open by the force of Riksis' much larger Shrapnel Launcher, putting up an admittedly poor fight compared to the Kings' usual ferocity.

"Seems like the Kings sent a poor choice for a scouting party" Riksis taunted, grabbing the third Vandal by the neck and hoisting him into the air. Not caring to hear a response, Riksis tightened his grip, crushing the Vandal's windpipe before tossing him off like a simple object without purpose. Watching with a low smile as the Devil Dregs began to win out over the King Dregs, Riksis decided to get into contact with his sniper support.

1/4 mile away, on a withered and battered outpost catwalk…

"I'd say that went well." Riksis' sniper commented, standing up and throwing her Wire Rifle onto her back before pulling her sword from the throat of the deceased King Vandal whose position she took.

"Agreed. Get back to camp, I won't be long." Riksis ordered, noting the need to watch what he said as a Devil Captain with a unique armored shoulder pad, possessing two curved spikes on it, walked up to join him.

"Love you too, Riksis." The female Vandal said before closing the line, knowing Riksis would've said something similar if her Captain wasn't within earshot of him.

Post-Chapter Note

Sorry that this introductory chapter was a bit small, it was mostly to set the situation up and make the transition to the Moon for the next chapter easier (And yes, you'll get to see that Mystery Knight next chapter). I'm also admittedly a bit nervous about how this story will do, as when compared to ones like Fireteam Warden, I only got as far as the prologue before worrying that people would think my story is going to be 2-D, small-scale, basic, and, well, just a load of non-reading-worthy crap.

Also, in the absence of an official Fallen language, I improv'd and made my own, which I'm writing down and keeping on hand to refer to for future Fallen-only scenes (They'll just use English when conversing with Guardians ala automatic translation methods, whether it be in their helmets or a Guardian's Ghost.). But, if the majority opinion is negative about the whole concept, I'll just axe it and use English across the board to not cram it down people's throats.

Third, the Fallen scene was put in to try and convey the long-term plan for this story, that it's going to be a mixture of more light moments and actual conflict/semi-serious kinds of things. I wish I could outright state the bigger things I have planned, but spoiling it wastes any sense of surprise when said moments come around. In addition, while the story will reference events in the main game from time to time, the actual direct events in this story are largely unrelated to it, and will be an attempt at adding things like The Crow back into the mix after Bungie axed it out.

I also didn't describe everyone's facial features because I wasn't sure if anyone would care to hear it. If many people would be interested to know what they look like beneath the helmets, I'll describe it soon, I just didn't want to waste anyone's time if it was largely not interesting to know. In addition, take note: Fireteam Komodo (The group seen for the majority of the chapter) count up to 5 members. You can have 6 at absolute max in-game. Now why might that be?…

Finally, Caldwell being an Exo, technically his name, like any Exo, is Caldwell-83, but his teammates and other-such people he associates with simply shorten it to Caldwell in a manner similar to how humans shorten Jonathan down to John or Michael down to Mike, same concept.