1: Lost Light

Kahlee awoke, gasping for breath. Her lungs burned, and dried blood from the gash on her forehead stained her face and white hair. Her vision was cloudy, and her ears rang. She could, however, smell smoke. It was faint, but most certainly there. She could also smell the fuel leaking from her ship. Putting those two bits of information together, she summoned up as much strength as she could and tried to get her feet underneath her. As she put weight on her left arm, she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her wrist, most likely a fracture. She sucked in air through her teeth, reacting to the sensation, and immediately regretted that decision, as it only intensified the burning in her lungs.

If I don't get clear, a whole lot more of me is going to be burning. Literally. She thought to herself, fighting through the agony of her injuries. As she rose to a crouch in the remnants of her cockpit, she looked around the cramped, damaged compartment.

"Val?" she called out, trying to find her Ghost. No response. "Val, don't you leave me alone, here! Say something!" She called again, tears welling in her eyes.

"Kahlee…" a weak, metallic voice said from underneath a bulkhead that had been torn free in their apparent crash. Kahlee mustered up the will to grab the panel and raise it up a few centimeters. Val soon emerged from underneath it, not so much flying out as he did crawl, but as he freed his outer shell, he began to awkwardly float by Kahlee's head.

"K, I'm… I don't know what—"

"Save it. We need to get out of this wreck." She silenced the tiny robot, grabbing him with her good hand, and crawling out of the twisted, mangled ship she jumped the two-meters to the ground and rolled. As she limped towards the tree line, she tried her best to process her surroundings. Her crash site was at the borders of a massive forest, the immediate area ahead of her choked with trees. Running along to her right and into the foliage was a river, its waters muddied by some of the debris kicked up by her rough landing. On the other bank of the river was open, rocky terrain interspersed with the same type of trees that were about to overtake her.

Behind her, as she looked to the wreck of her ship being overtaken by flame, she saw the Traveler, the strange Cabal device ensnaring it, that fiendish orange glow surrounding the alien construct.

Kahlee tried to process the events leading to her current state, but it was hard to judge just how much time had passed since she had lost consciousness. The team had been returning to Earth after a successful mission to take out a rogue Fallen Ketch in orbit around Jupiter. But by the time they had passed Earth's Moon, they had discovered normal comm frequencies were inoperable. The Vanguard emergency channel had been going ballistic, and they had increased their pace after being ordered by the Vanguard to assist a lone Guardian aboard the flagship of the invading Red Legion. The warrior was the very same Guardian that the Vanguard had dispatched on multiple occasions to topple such atrocities as Oryx, the Taken King. They were almost in position when the Legion activated their device around the Traveler.

Kahlee had been knocked out cold when the trap engaged, with no time to engage her auto-pilot. Her crash site was less than a day's walk from the City, though she knew it was suicide to try and return home.

As she neared the edges of the forest, she felt a wave of heat on her back as the ship behind her finally detonated. This was followed almost immediately by a sharp pain in her midsection and she cried out in agony as she fell forwards to the ground. A small piece of shrapnel from the ship had struck her, and though it narrowly missed her spine, it hit with enough force to punch through her ruined armor and find its way out again. She rolled over onto her back and looked down towards her stomach. Fresh purple blood ran out of the wound, soaking into her robe. She had let go of Val after the hit, and he weakly floated over the injury now.

"How bad?" she asked, wincing as she applied pressure to the wound.

"It doesn't... It doesn't look good, K," he replied, a sad tone in his voice.

"Can you do anything about it?"

"I... I don't know. I can try, but... whatever happened last night... If you die, I can't bring you back."

"Val... we really need to have a talk about your bedside manner." She tried to laugh, but that only intensified the pain in her belly.

"I'm serious. Whatever this Red Legion did to the Traveler- to us... I've lost the Light. I may be able to heal your wounds, but if..." Kahlee held up a hand to stop her Ghost from continuing. He fluttered over the wound and began attempting to stabilize her. Even in his damaged state, he was successful, though the process was going to take drastically longer. Kahlee tried to normalize her breathing and remained as calm as she possibly could.

"We're in luck. That fragment went clean through."

"Val, you have a very strange definition of luck."

"No, I mean it didn't leave any bits behind, and organ damage is minimal. Give me a few more minutes, and I'll have you up and moving again." As Val hovered over the exit wound, Kahlee noticed two looming figures in the background, their shapes blurred, but unmistakably Cabal. A third, waist-high shape sat next to one of them.

"Val... I need a weapon."

"No, you need to not be bleeding out on me right now. Just hold on," the Ghost replied, oblivious to the three hostiles behind him. The two large figures started moving closer, though not quite as rapidly as the smaller creature, which began to focus into the shape of a Cabal war beast, alien and canine in nature, the monster let out a roar and leapt into the air.

"Val!" Kahlee cried out, grabbing the Ghost and pulling it into her chest as she rolled to her left, narrowly dodging the beast's opening attack. The hole in her stomach made the maneuver quite painful, and her potentially punctured lung made its presence known to her again. She had little time to find relief, as now the two Cabal legionnaires were at her feet, weapons drawn and aimed straight at her head. She was now on her back again, staring straight at the muzzle of a projection rifle. The gargantuan aliens did not look to be much in the mood for mercy. Kahlee closed her eyes and searched for peace, but the distant sound of several rifles firing, as well as the grunting of the Cabal, told her that death may not have been as close as she suspected.

A few moments passed, and they felt like an eternity, but Kahlee was afraid to open her eyes, until the footfall of boots grew closer. Far too light of steps to be more Cabal, she opened one eye to see a human woman standing over her, a battered and pockmarked sniper rifle slung on her back. A blue hooded poncho hid most of her features, but the woman lowered the hood as she knelt beside the gravely injured Warlock. Her black hair was drawn back in a simple bun, and a pattern of nine dots were tattooed on her olive-skinned face.

"Guess you're not dead," the woman said, placing one hand on Kahlee's stomach, checking the wound. She winced as the stranger's hand applied a bit of pressure.

"But you're going to be if we don't hurry." The woman turned to the quivering Ghost in Kahlee's hands. "Whenever you're ready, little guy."

"Oh, right. Of... of course." Val flew out of Kahlee's grip and resumed working on the shrapnel wound.

"Where else is she hurt?" the stranger asked.

"Hairline fracture on her left wrist, she has a concussion and a possible punctured lung. It's all going to take some time for me to heal."

"That's a shame. Time is the one thing we don't have. Get this wound and the lung, I'll make her a splint for the wrist. The concussion will have to wait for a bit." The woman stood up again and donned the hood of the poncho once more. "As soon as you can stand, we need to leave."

"Where is there to go?" Val asked as he closed the laceration.

"There's really only one place left to go, but the exact location is on a need-to-know basis, which means I need to know I can trust you." the woman replied.

"Can you answer a few questions for us, first?" Kahlee inquired.

"My name is Hawthorne, I'm not a Guardian, and your City was lost thirty-six hours ago." It was very clear to the pair that Kahlee was not the only Guardian Hawthorne had saved recently.

"That covers most of it," Kahlee began. "But, why?"

"'Why' what?"

"Why are you helping us?"

Hawthorne paused for a moment. It was almost as if she knew the answer to that question but was afraid or unwilling to answer. Though her contact with Outsiders had been very limited over the years since her rebirth, Kahlee had learned very quickly that not everyone on Earth was grateful for the Guardians and their Traveler. While the City could hold no small amount of people, it seemed that many were either in too much danger to make the trek South for the Vanguard's protection, and there were others still who simply did not want it. The area that was once the United States had several large settlements scattered across it, but many of these communities were under constant threat by gangs of junkers and scavengers, eager to prey on people who were almost entirely defenseless. It was also rumored there were areas in the Northeast where even the Fallen dared not tread.

But worse still, was Europe. Kahlee, along with Dak and Bill, had run many Fireteam missions together in that region, the Old Russian Cosmodrome had been an area of particular interest for several years. But there was one place that had been forbidden by the Vanguard, commonly referred to as the European Dead Zone. Under pain of banishment, no Guardian was to enter the EDZ, and nobody was particularly eager to venture out that way, regardless of any punishments enforced by the Vanguard.

The Sun had now almost completely set, the wind and the sound of Val working on Kahlee the only audible sounds in the area. The fires engulfing the remains of the crashed ship had burned out relatively fast after the explosion, though the smell of unnatural smoke lingered heavily in the breeze. The last rays of sunlight began to die away, the only light now coming from the imprisoned Traveler hanging in the air, a chilling visage of an entity that once comforted Kahlee every time she laid her eyes on it. Hawthorne remained silent, but produced a bandage wrap from her satchel, as well as grabbing two small boughs from a tree before returning to the downed Warlock. As she rigged up the makeshift splint on Kahlee's wrist, she sighed.

"Your question doesn't have an easy answer, but I guess it boils down to: I got guilt-tripped into it by a very annoying gentleman sniper, and I suppose it's the right thing to do." She pulled the excess bandage tight and tied it off, then extended a hand. Kahlee grasped it with her uninjured hand and was pulled to her feet. The woman offered Kahlee a reassuring, yet somehow indifferent, smile.

"You're not the first Guardian I've pulled out of the fire, but you are certainly in the worst shape. Come on, we need to get you to safety. With that concussion, you're in no shape to fly, but one of my boys here will take you on board. So, relax, you'll be okay with us."

"Where are we going?"

"The only place left to go. Europe." Hawthorne motioned for her to follow, and after a brief, silent walk, Kahlee saw a series of three jumpships parked by the mouth of the river. Beaten, battered, and in need of several fresh coats of paint, they were in far worse shape than the pristine, streamlined craft Kahlee had been flying up until recently. Hawthorne made her way towards the lead ship, faded blue and covered in dents. A young man jogged out from the makeshift landing zone to help Kahlee towards a second ship, but she politely waved his assistance off. Nevertheless, the man stayed within arm's reach should she become dizzy or lose her footing. As Hawthorne climbed the ladder hanging off the side of her ship, she turned and motioned towards Val, who was barely keeping pace with Kahlee's sluggish, injured limp.

"By the way, you'd better have your little robot pal fix you up fast on the ride over. We've got a lot of work to do."

"Work?"

"Of course. It is a Farm, after all."