And it was indeed a high-pitched voice that interupted the two extraterrestrials. It was very faint but clear amidst the silence of the forest, innocent was what was said, almost childlike was the question that was asked.
"Hello? Anybody there? Is there someone out there? In need of help? Just give us a sign or something. So we can find you."
"Ruby you dunce, stop yelling like that."
Both the captain and the centurion stood rigid like statues, vaguely thinking that the voices weren't real, or maybe even that the oh-so-well known source would just disappear into forgetful oblivion if they pretended to not be there. But the cunning captain and the hardened Bracus knew better than that.
Trying his best to repress his stress, the centurion, named Tra'aurg, quickly activated his HUD, an influx of battlefield data flooding the sides of his screen. Out of the mess of windows and numbers, so familiar as to be rather cohesive to the experienced officier, Tra'aurg focused on the motion tracker.
The suit of the centurion was Imperial grade. Hardened against the toughest of concussions to protect this link in the chain of command, equipped with extensive sensor equipment to optimise tactical awareness, the suit combined with the excellent field aptitude of a Cabal officier would centralise a unit's combat effectiveness to the officier. As long as he was alive, a unit could keep fighting, until the last man. A vital heart protected by a hardened shell of disciplined legionaries and phalanxes.
It was a shame there was no shell, but the heart shall bear it, if it was up to Tra'aurg, a Bracus of the Blind legion, from the second cohort.
But even without the help of external electronics and the Cabal war net, Tra'aurg confirmed the presence of three enemies, at a distance of 100 yards, at an elevation of 50 meters. luckily, the trees blocked the enemies' sight over the clearing.
Tra'aurg enhanced the audio settings, trying to hear what the enemy might be planning, how they would approach the two. Slowly their conversation became eligible.
"...all...'m... aying is...that... it wouldn't do if he were to... eaten by a pack... beowolves just because we were careless in our, and I must say, impromptu search."
"But Weiss, how else are we supposed to find him? We've only heard some explosions, and I don't know whether he is hurt or how to find him and I haven't told proffesor Port that we went off to look for him instead of checking up on that generator and I don't know..."
Immediately a plan was forming inside the Centurion's mind. It was mostly out a force of habit though, as the centurion grit his teeth in despair at the thought of his opposition. Three guardians most likely, out on patrol, and they had been drawn to their location because of their battle. Furthermore the centurion knew that he was in no condition to fight, physically and mentally.
Tra'aurg slowed down his thoughts, slowly thinking more about the last few weeks of lone hardship than the most effective expenditure of ammo in this engagement or an approach that would give him a chance at survival.
Four weeks of constant combat he had been in now, two with the legion, clearing Vex ruins underground, and two on his own. Though two weeks of non-stop battle with the Vex in claustrophobic spaces had only worn down his mind slightly, two weeks of lone wandering through caves and eventually, this forest had pushed him nearer to the breaking point everyday.
The caves, terrible things he had seen, and felt and learned. Where he experienced not only constant battle fatigue and paranoia, but sights not meant for mortal eyes and something else that he wouldn't even dare think about. The most terrible experience in his life.
Tra'aurg was never prepared for this. He fought in units, in rigid formation and with clear orders. It was either hold the line and move up, or dying in a bunker or on the field. Not experiencing this, this crushing loneliness and paranoia. A lone cabal is supposed to be a dead one, not a live one trying to find his way back.
Could he even get back? The dishonor that could be, it disheartened him, for what else could a lone soldier being found by his people be recognised as but a deserter?
But he still had a duty to come back for and a promise of homecoming. What else was there for a Cabal to fight for but home? All of them fight for their home in their own way. He did it just to be home again, since a long while ago.
Tra'aurg bristled, turning his desperation into bloodlust. Yes he would fight them, and use that pirate scum as his skirmisher, at the pain of death, even though trusting his captive to fight along would be insane, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He will be home again, this was merely a more uphill battle than others.
But before Tra'aurg could speak about his plan the fallen captain spoke with a calm voice, still in the same position, his back turned towards the centurion and with his head held high. He spoke with hissing pauses, further cementing the Cabal's image of lowly Fallen pirates.
"The enemy is~ near. Bushes~ behind us~, good for hiding~. Hide there~, I will make fake tracks~, for guardians~ to follow. They will pass us~, we will be safe~. Meet me on this~ field~, when guardians~ are gone."
The centurion bristled at the notion, reprimanding his prisoner for his audacity and cowardice, he answered with a laconic "no". Roriks was shaken by the refusal and tried to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn't listen, and soon Roriks hastened his speech, quickly caring less for correct pronunciation and his image now that his plan was in grave danger.
"But hurry'there' s'little time, we will die, senseless death will follow, we cannot stand against them."
The centurion refused to budge, even while doubts started forming in his heart. But he wouldn't admit to this fallen scum, to take his advice, and not fight. He did not understand, wasn't it Obvious that the best approach is to always face problems head-on? Or find ways to do so head-on?
His plan had formed now. He would take a mobile firing position around this hill, moving away whenever the guardians moved into melee. He would counter intercepting guardians by having the captain use his noted teleporation to slow them down and cover him. He would focus fire on one guardian at a time, maybe move the captain and himself into an advantageous situation against a separated guardian when the chance arose. It was a sound plan, if one set aside the huge overall combat advantage the guardians had, and the fact that he was not used to such high-risk mobile combat in a restricted amount of ground.
"Centurion, we must make for cover! Soon I will have no chance for plan. Then we doomed. Get to that bush. Your plans will not work, no chance against their strenght!"
"We must fight! I have formed a plan. I will take a mobile firing position, I have the firepower. You will cover my maneuvers, while I wear them down. Exploit coöperative strikes on my signal."
"But we need not fight!"
The centurion was cut short, increasingly feeling the urge to answer the fallen's tardiness with violence, the same way he would usually answer insubordination. But Tra'aurg felt confused at the notion as well, trying to wrap his head around what the Fallen might imply. The captain quickly took the opportunity to explain his gambit.
"I have plan. We will follow them. Track them towards spacecraft. We will ambush them, I paralyze with trap I can make. We take their ships. I know a way. Then I drop you near your border, and go our separate ways."
Tra'aurg thought quickly. The enemy was near, and the scum offered an enticing alternative, which he couldn't fully grasp at the moment, proving his race's cunning. He hadn't thought of it. Though it did sound more effective, he was wary of him for that same cunning. He could see the dark spots in the plan where he could be betrayed, and he could imagine the ways he would betray him. But he shouldn't let prejudice, how sound it may be, come in the way. It would be a waste of this advantageous ground, but Tra'aurg felt the pirate's plan had even chances of succes and failure, resulting in certain death, while his plan tilted more towards failure because of overwhelming odds. So Tra'aurg, despite his instincts telling him not to, agreed with the plan, but added a few and maybe last words.
"But if you betray me, I will priortise you over the guardians. Understood?"
Roriks resisted the urge to nod like a grateful dreg, as befit him as a captain, and got to work, creating footprints by walking with heavy steps towards the right end of the clearing. Tra'aurg treaded as softly and quickly over the grass as he could towards the thick ground opposite of the cliff. Tra'aurg moved around a large rock further into the forest, as far away from the treeline as possible, but still with a view on the hilltop.
Tra'aurg sat down and waited, hidden between thick growth and the large rock, and on his HUD he pulled up tabs informing him of the status of the approaching guardians. They were almost here, just 20 paces from the treeline. He would have to trust the pirate, what clashed with his common sense, yet it was justified by the need for effective execution of their impromptu-agreed-to plan.
The Fallen had completed his ruse, having taken the effort to wipe his own and seemingly even the cabal's tracks as well. He saw the Fallen jumping over some bushes, without disturbing the growth, and he assumed the Fallen either crawled towards his position, as much out of the way of the guardian's predicted path. Now for the waiting game, just like before a field deployment he supposed, when one is hanging from the brace in a harvester transport. Yet in this case, if everything went right, no fighting was to be expected. "Strange," Tra'aurg noted.
He felt unlucky for having a red-black armor scheme. He hoped by moving further back into the forest the growth would compensate, but he kept his weapons ready in case it turned awry. He could use the rock for cover, but not for long, as he would have to move away when they assaulted his position.
The anticipation wore heavily on him. Danger was ahead, but he could not tackle it. He would have to remain in risk, yet not for any gain except for more time.
But before the bracus could grumble and complain further about his situation, he could hear the guardians arriving. Tra'aurg watched their estimated point of entry, listening in on their chatter, turning up the volume.
"Yes Ruby, all we need to do is to find out where we may find their trail, find it and follow it. It's called tracking, and it is a far better alternative to wandering about and yelling like we are looking for a lost pet."
"Yeah yeah, I get it Weiss, but you don't need to be so mean about it, you know."
"I am not being mean! I'm just putting my finger on your mistakes, to help you learn and to become a better leader. Also-"
"Hey guys, we're there. And I'm pretty sure this is where it all went down," Yang announced.
Yang guessed correctly that the clearing was the hotspot, judging from the large footprints, the disturbed earth and the burn marks on the ground. The three went further into the clearing, trying to make sense of what had transpired.
"I suppose the grimm surrounded him," Ruby mulled, " They cornered him on top of this hill, going by where those craters might have been made from, and then the huntsman... proceeded to blast the nasties into tiny bits with high-explosives! You see the spread of those scorch marks, and their intensity? Those have to be from high-quality guided explosive munitions! Those were obviously the result of precision barrages! Ohhh, maybe he had a rare *Dust spitfire model 1999*! I heard they were so rare and expensive and faulty that they had to be scrapped! But if he actually managed to make-"
"Stop goofing off you gun-nut! That is not what happened here! If he really was surrounded and if he really did repel them, than he wouldn't have left these footprints over here," Weiss said, pointing at the obviously inhuman footprints leading away from the center,"Also, where are *his* footprints? And those of the grimm he supposedly fought?"
Ruby shrugged. "Uhm, rocket jump and nevermores?"
Weiss facepalmed."Look, it doesn't matter. He is still somewhere, I think he fled into the forest, maybe because this grimm," as she pointed to the footprints," was much stronger than the rest. The battle might have erased some of the footprints of the involved, but that's not important now, because right now, I think he might very well be in danger. I think we should follow the trail and go after him this instant, of course after we inform proffesor Port."
As Ruby nodded and fumbled for her scroll, Tra'aurg took in as much about the enemy as he could. He could identify a standard guardian patrol group. One was a titan, going by the clothmark hanging from the hip. Another was a hunter, going by the hood she wore. And lastly, there was a warlock, if the cut-down robe was any indicator. Such noted task forces were only present in the vicinity of major troop concentrations or high priority targets. Judging from the local wildlife, which had depleted most of his energy and supplies, he would presume a textbook culling operation. Worst would be if it was Vex activity on this world what they were after, which he could testify to. He preferred he wouldn't encounter them again, and not out of cowardice he would like to stress.
Tra'aurg predicted that an engagement would be stacked against him in this situation. The warlock had a sword, a powerful melee weapon, Titans tend to close in as line infantry, and hunters usually outmaneuver, battling like skirmishers. Tra'aurg expected rush tactics in an engagement, with a central point man and two flankers. He did not have sufficient forces to mount a significant defense: it would just be an extermination.
If he still possessed the hill, he might have had more movement options, like a down hill retreat or access to the clifftop. Tra'aurg felt regret, but he knew it wouldn't matter, all he could do now is to trust this Fallen's gambit, and helplessly hope for the best. Needless to say, Tra'aurg wasn't satisfied current situation
It seemed the guardians were done reporting in and ready to move out, following the tracks further into the forest, but then, the blonde one noticed a discrepancy in the scene, one Tra'aurg had blindly hoped for to be overlooked.
"Uhm guys, I think we missed these footprints. They look pretty fresh too, and they're leading over... there."
Yang pointed her finger at where the large and round footprints started, and followed them with her finger all the way towards the edge of the forest, towards the rock where he was hiding.
The realisation struck Tra'aurg, it shook him awake and he was about to grab his weapon to initiate a pointless, but instinctive defense, but as he switched the safety of his weapon...
Four pistol shots rang through the air, coming from far in the distance, and the girls turned towards the north, to the clifftop. It was a miracle that Tra'aurg could restrain himself from revealing his position, and he remained in a stiff crouching position. It seemed they hadn't noticed him and that a compatriot of them was in danger.
"Blake!"