Do you really think Dane will let you give the NLS drive to Zinnia? Ghost buzzed from the jumpship controls console. He was checking their route and engine statistics for what had to be the twentieth time in the past two hours. Quarrel stretched in the pilot seat, lengthening her legs as much as she could in the cramped cockpit. The jumpship shuddered now and again in light turbulence. Outside the windows she could see the wings skimming the tops of clouds, great masses of fluffy white that as yet couldn't decide whether they were going to bring storms to the sea below. The turbulence didn't bother her. The ship was in fine flying condition ever since Amanda Holliday had gotten hold of it. It had served her well in the Cosmodrome with Shenu and Zinnia, and it was serving her well on the way back there now.
"Of course not," she grinned at Ghost. "That's why I'm not telling him."
He'll find out eventually. Are you prepared to make an enemy?
"Do you think it will come to that?" Quarrel asked, thinking she already knew the answer.
Dane doesn't like it when other people have ideas, Ghost clicked. He'll give you a drive so long as you're beholden to him. If you give it to Zinnia, he'll take it as a rebuff of his friendship. If you can call it that.
"I can't control what he thinks," Quarrel said. "You think I shouldn't do this?"
I didn't say that. As nice as it would be to have our own drive, I think this is a good thing to do for Zinnia. And it might take some of the air out of Dane's overinflated ego, which I also won't argue with.
She laughed. Ghost's vindictive streak never ceased to amuse her.
"He'll just have to deal with it," Quarrel grinned. "He never said what I had to do with the drive once he gave it to me."
I'm not even going to believe that he will give it to you until I see it happen myself.
That possibility had occurred to her. She didn't relish a dangerous trip to the Cosmodrome even for such a promising reward as an NLS drive. To find that Dane wouldn't give it to her after all…well, hopefully their time together wouldn't let him sink so low. Dane was a handful, but he wasn't completely rotten. Besides, she rather liked hanging out with Guinefort and Gelert.
"I'll make him see reason," she assured Ghost.
Believe me, there's no reasoning with Hunters, Ghost grumbled. She laughed again.
"Surely you know what makes them tick?"
That's easy: cloaks, knives, and doing foolish things like infiltrating heavily contested Dark Zones in small numbers for bragging rights and tech.
"I don't like that part either," she said. "But I promise that at the first sign of trouble, we're out of there, whether we have the drive or not."
I trust you, Ghost said. It's Dane I worry about. I don't think he understands the risks we're running into. Small fireteams are great for stealth, but easy to overwhelm. But what do I know?
"I'd say you know a lot, seeing as you were the original Cosmodrome infiltrator. And you were quite successful, if I may say so."
Ghost clicked and squinted at her.
You may.
She laughed and tweaked his fin.
"I'll leave it to you to keep us on the straight and narrow."
What do you think I've been doing all this time? Ghost sighed.
The comms panel chirruped.
/Okay, I've got another one! Guinefort's voice came over the intercom. If she looked out her window to the right, she could just see his ship in formation off her wing. /What do you call a Warlock without a good idea?
She pressed a button on her left armrest to answer.
"I'll bite. What?"
/Tolerable!
Guinefort's chortling laugh filled the cockpit.
/You do know you can mute your comms, right? Gelert said. Her ship was ahead of theirs, piercing through the clouds with its sleek-nosed frame. Quarrel could just see the thrusters glowing in the distance, a bright spark of light to follow. / Don't laugh at his jokes even once, or he'll never stop!
/ You act like you want me to go somewhere else, Guinefort admonished.
/ I can think of at least one fiery place, yes, Gelert shot back.
/ You'd be lost without me.
/ And so, so much happier…
Those two could argue even more than Zinnia and Perdita. Despite Gelert's professed annoyance, she still kept close to Guinefort. Necessity of a close-knit fireteam, perhaps, but from the way they worked so effortlessly together, she didn't think it was nearly as big of a sacrifice as Gelert made it sound.
/If you haven't rested yet, I'd recommend it now, Dane advised. /We've got about another hour 'til touchdown. Then it's game on.
I can take over if you want to sleep, Ghost offered.
"Thanks, but I'm not tired."
Of course you're not. You only stayed up half the night wandering the Tower, that's all.
She tweaked his fin again.
"Sounds like you could use the nap."
Ghost shook his fins and clicked, a little sigh of resignation.
I'm sorry. I'm just nervous.
"The Cosmodrome?"
Do you remember the Archon? Ghost asked. It might still be around. That it was guarding your ship in the first place was no coincidence. The Fallen keep an especially jealous hold on ships and flight technology.
She did remember the Archon: massive, howling damnation.
"Could it be worse than a Wizard?" she asked.
Make no mistake, Ghost buzzed. An Archon is very bad. They have the command of the Captains and the Barons. They have the most Ether. They have long years of bloody conquests to get to that position.
"Well, I have the Light and I have you. The Fallen had better not underestimate that." She gave his fin one last tweak. Ghost chirped doubtfully, but brightened up a little.
"I want that NLS drive if at all possible," she said, shifting to get comfortable in her chair again. "Dane's right: we have to take back what's ours from the thieves."
Quarrel and the Hunters stood at the drop point right at the edge of a ridge inside the bounds of the Cosmodrome. Behind them, the rock fell away to a dizzying drop into the icy moat that had formed around the derelict complex walls. Ahead lay the backside of the warehouse dock she had escaped from with her ship. In the distance to her left, the Mothyards. She shivered, glad for her scarf both because of the constant chill in the steppes and the familiar reminder of Ghost's presence. It was hard to be back here after what they'd gone through last time.
"Hey, I found Kinna's ship!" Guinefort said, looking out from their vantage point toward the dock complex. Quarrel could make out the tail of a jumpship that had plowed nose first into the snowy ground.
Gelert sighed. "Was that before or after our extensive scans indicating where to put our drop zone?"
"Come on, time's a-wasting," Dane said, shouldering his rifle.
I'm not picking up any signs of an NLS drive, Ghost chirped as they began to walk toward the ship. He was at her shoulder, watching the proceedings with eager curiosity. Unlike her mission with Shenu, the Ghosts were allowed to roam freely today. Dane had laughed at her when she'd registered her surprise, saying any Ghost worth their fins knew not to get shot at — and that it was up to her to make double sure of that. She still couldn't decide if that was meant to be a jab at her or not. With Dane, it was hard to tell.
"The Fallen could have snagged it as soon as the ship was abandoned," Dane said.
"Are we going to try and pry it from them?" Quarrel asked.
"Yep!" Dane said, sounding pleased at the prospect. "The quicker we get there, the quicker we can find out."
Dane took the lead and gestured for them to follow. For all his bravado, he still stepped carefully, his head swiveling to keep tabs on everything that happened around him. Quarrel could hardly hear Gelert and Guinefort behind her except for a slight rustling of armor. Gelert was keeping to her tracks in the snow. They moved silently down the hillock they had landed on and between rock outcroppings carved out by wind and countless years of freeze and thaw. Ghost kept to her shoulder, scanning the landscape, occasionally clicking to himself. Tigris, Guinefort's Ghost, hovered by his shoulder. She bore a smooth purple shell, as sleek and dark as her Guardian's helm.
The ship was in a bad state. Whole sections of the hull were missing. Wiring and components spilled out in colorful snarls. Snow dusted the open cockpit. Gelert slipped ahead to check around the crash site for any Fallen. She reappeared by the exhaust ports where the tail fins jutted up into the air, shaking her head.
"We're clear."
"Oh, Kinna is not going to be happy," Guinefort clucked, inspecting the damage. "She loved this ship."
"More fool her for flying too near a couple of skiffs," Dane said, hopping up onto the wing and kicking aside broken glass. "She should have waited for us if she wanted to go nosing around the Cosmodrome."
"You hardly waited for us," Gelert said.
"Ha!" Dane cried and wriggled headfirst behind the jumpseat. He seemed to be fishing for something wedged in the crushed frame. "Here it is!" He straightened up, holding a soggy, wadded piece of cloth.
Guinefort and Dane shared a good laugh. Dane shook out the cloth. A long cloak unfurled, rippling in the wind. It was a simple blue thing, with a few graceful arcs along its bottom edge in white. Or what would have been white were it not for the scorch marks and oil stains.
"I can't believe the Fallen didn't take this!" Dane crowed. "Oh, man! Kinna's going to wish they had!"
They laughed again. Dane draped the cloak over his arm. A few moments later, it was transmatted away, the work of his Ghost.
"A little tip, fresh meat," Dane said, turning to her as he balanced on the wing. "When you get your cloak, don't ever lose it!"
"Especially where another Hunter will find it," Guinefort added.
No NLS drive here, Tigris chirped, emerging from a gash in the ship's belly. Her whispery voice sounded like tinkling chimes. Ghost trailed out behind her.
Most of the operating systems have been destroyed, he said.
"Figures," Guinefort shrugged. "Ah, well. It was worth a shot. I just can't believe more isn't missing. The Hive must really be keeping the Fallen busy for them not to have picked this clean!"
"We're not done here," Dane reprimanded the Exo.
We did get some audio from the flight recorder, Tigris said.
"Let's hear it," Dane commanded.
Tigris began playback. The recording was largely static, the tense one-sided dialogue of the pilot nearly incomprehensible.
"I hope you understood that, because it's just Kinna freaking out to me," Guinefort said once the recording was finished.
I think the main article of importance is the presence of a command center nearby, Ghost offered.
Tigris chirped in agreement.
Kinna went to take a look at it before her extraction. Maybe we should do the same.
"I don't see why," Dane grumbled. "We're looking for a drive, not mapping."
"A command center might have important tech," Quarrel offered. "Or maybe the Fallen who took the drive will have retreated to it."
Dane appeared not to have heard her, staring down at the ship. Finally he shrugged.
"Fine. Lead the way."
Tigris and Ghost turned their gaze toward a small outbuilding only a few yards away. Guinefort and Gelert were careful to keep themselves positioned on either side of her without ever looking like they meant to. Their apparent ease belied a keen awareness and tactical adjustment. And they still moved so quietly! She tried her best to mimic their soft footfalls. Already she felt out of practice from their hiding games in the provinces.
"Looks like more people than just Kinna have been here," Gelert murmured, looking at the ground. At least two sets of tracks stretched before them to the outbuilding and then from the outbuilding off toward the dock warehouse. Bootmarks, clean and neat, and nearly overlapping.
"Maybe some more scouts," Dane said. "A few are supposed to be in the area still."
"You think they took the drive?" Guinefort asked.
"They better not have!"
The outbuilding was little more than covering for a stairwell descending into the earth. A cold draft wafted up from the depths, rustling the Hunters' cloaks. Even through her armor Quarrel could feel the chill while they descended into the dark. Someone — maybe Kinna, maybe the Fallen — had set up lighting along the way so they weren't forced to move through pitch black. Like every structure she had been in throughout the Cosmodrome, the corridors were rimed with debris. Chunks of fallen concrete, plaster, rusted corrugated metal. Electronics and glass and trash — the leavings of an old life. She stepped carefully around a bit of flimsy plastic wrapper, tiny swatches of bright coloring left on it in a language she did not know.
The Ghosts stayed close by as their sightlines grew limited. They rounded a corner and found another set of stairs. At the bottom of those, a greenish light was pouring into the narrow hall. The air tasted musty through her filters. Where the sparse lighting touched, she could see mosses and stagnant pools of water. Dane made a hand sign indicating something to their right. The hallway let into a larger room filled with Golden Age data systems. The green glow was coming from this room, etching the ancient computers and machinery in eerie relief. Dane signed again: he was going inside, taking the right flank. Gelert gestured for Quarrel to take the middle, and she and Guinefort would go left. Quarrel nodded and slid her hand cannon from its holster. Ghost crowded so close to her shoulder she could feel his warmth through the scarf on her neck. He turned about cautiously, scanning each shadow like she was. The other three moved so silently she couldn't hear them at all, giving the strange sensation that she and Ghost were quite alone. It reminded her of that very first day, and she swallowed against a catch in her throat.
Movement to her left. Gelert and Guinefort. They nodded at each other. Dane appeared to her right a moment later. Two doorways opened at the green light's source. Guinefort ducked in and motioned the all-clear.
The light came from a huge vidscreen displaying what could only be a map. Tigris and Ghost perked up, hovering over the filthy controls. Even Dane's Ghost bestirred himself from Rest, his tough red shell looking like plated Titan armor.
"Leave it to Kinna to get her bearings first," Dane said. "If anyone can get a map on the run, it's her. This is cheating though," he added.
"Cheating?" Quarrel asked.
"Yeah. Normally she draws them from memory. This one's already been done up by the Golden Agers."
"Let's get this downloaded, yeah?" Guinefort said to Tigris. She clicked in agreement. All three Ghosts began to interface with the controls. Suddenly, Ghost disengaged, his eye turning to a gaping hole in the wall to their right.
Uh oh, he buzzed. We should make this quick. I'm detecting Hive signatures down those tunnels.
Guinefort and Gelert both took a couple steps toward the hole.
"Hive, huh?" Guinefort mused.
"A lot of them?" Gelert asked at the same time.
Enough of them. And powerful. Ghost's fins quivered in the glow.
Guinefort and Gelert exchanged another glance. The hair on the back of Quarrel's neck stirred. They weren't seriously thinking about engaging the Hive, were they? She took a step forward, ready to dash any such plans.
"Let's get the NLS drive first," Gelert said before she could speak. "Cayde's always going on about how you can never assume there's just one Thrall."
"That's not how he put it," Guinefort said. They both sounded far too casual for speaking about those monsters. "What did he say? Oh, yeah: The Hive are like potato chips — you can't have just one."
"How would he know?" Dane shook his head. "He doesn't eat. Anyways, I think he was talking about killing them."
"He'd know from watching you stuff your face," Guinefort chuckled.
Meanwhile, the Ghosts clicked and burbled at each other.
We've got the data, Dane's Ghost announced. It appears another Ghost has accessed this system since its revival.
"Another Ghost?" Dane grunted. "Who?
Uncertain. It was recent, within the hour.
"That explains the tracks," Gelert said.
"Polaris!" Dane growled."It has to be him! He actually came all this way to see if he could get the drive before us! Huh. Didn't think he'd actually take the bait."
"I told you not to say anything!" Gelert sighed. Dane ignored her.
Quarrel raised an eyebrow under her helm. Dane had sworn her to secrecy on the hunt so they stood a better chance to get the drive first. So much for that.
"Who's the other? Tory?" she asked.
"Who else?" Dane said.
"How did they get here so fast?"
"They already have drives, so they can jump to orbit. Unlike some people." Dane's censure for her ancient ship was obvious. He really didn't like having to neglect his own ship's capabilities simply to let her keep up.
According to this map, those tracks are headed right for Dock 13, Ghost said.
"That's where I found my jumpship," Quarrel said.
"Sounds like a promising spot for a scavver," Guinefort mused.
"I don't know if there's anything left," Quarrel shrugged. "I didn't have a lot of time to look around before — oh, no! The Archon!"
"The what?" Dane sighed. "What are you talking about?"
"There was an Archon in Dock 13 when we found the ship!"
"An Archon? Seriously? I highly doubt that, fresh meat. Captains look pretty big to the uninitiated."
It was an Archon, Ghost buzzed. I saw it myself.
"So what?" Dane grunted. "It's probably moved on by now."
"I hope so, for their sake," Quarrel said, looking back toward the stairwell.
"Well, what are we standing around for?" Dane snapped. "They've got the drive! Let's go get it!"
"You're going to take it from them?" Quarrel asked, disappointed. She hadn't signed up for a fight between Hunters over scrap.
"Of course I am!" Dane cried. "You know what Polaris is going to do with it? He's going to give it to Tory, who's going to turn around and sell it to Dead Orbit! Good luck ever getting that thing back from Jalaal!"
Before she could argue, Dane dashed up the stairs. Guinefort shrugged and followed him up, Gelert on his heels. Quarrel sighed and went after them. Outside, she blinked in the bright sunlight, feeling warm compared to the frigid chambers below ground.
Over there, Ghost chirped, indicating a blown-open gash in the low warehouse. Dane took the lead again. They picked across the icy ground, following the neat tracks, skirting a large frozen pond nestled against the concrete walls. Dane was singleminded now, but Quarrel kept glancing over her shoulder. The Fallen did not seem to be active out in the open today. Maybe the Hive really had forced them to retreat and give up territory. Maybe she had just been supremely unlucky the day of her Rebirth.
Warped, rusted stairs that hardly looked like they would support a Ghost landing on the railing led up to the jagged hole in the concrete wall. The stairs held somehow, and she eyed the caved-in roof warily while they passed. Grasses and shrubs sprouted amid cracked tiles and concrete brick, giving the ancient room a garden look. More dark halls. More flickering lights and pools of water, bits of dormant Fallen tech and torn-up Golden Age salvage. Painted logos flaked off the damp walls. She saw a proud mural of ships in flight over hopeful, upturned faces. How many people had seen this same mural who were now cold bones on those colony ships above them? Was this the first time she had ever seen it herself?
She hadn't realized she'd stopped until Guinefort stood beside her.
"Feeling nostalgic?" he asked quietly.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"Might as well take in the sights while you can," Guinefort said. "What's the point of going places if you don't stop and look around once in a while?"
"Just don't get your head blown off while you're gawking," Gelert added.
"Come on!" Dane urged, impatient to keep moving.
The floor of the next room was completely collapsed. Dane jumped lightly over the crater with a graceful utilization of Light. Quarrel's own landing was somewhat less beautiful, but at least better than any other attempt before. Gelert considered the jump, then sprinted forward. Just as Quarrel thought she too would boost herself through the air, she simply vanished. She jumped when Gelert reappeared right next to her. It was the same vanishing feat that Polaris had used in the Crucible.
"Show off!" Guinefort grumbled. "She does that every chance she gets."
"You're just sore you're not as good at it," Gelert retorted.
"Who needs to be good at a Warlock party trick?"
"The Warlocks don't use Blink to its potential," Gelert said. "That's why we borrowed it from them, so we can show them how it's done."
"Too bad they don't see it that way," Guinefort shrugged.
"No accounting for some people," Gelert agreed.
"Especially not Warlocks."
I've got Ghost signatures up ahead, Ghost announced.
Two of them, Tigris trilled. Consistent with Ghost designations Ursa and Karma.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Dane said.
Quarrel recognized Dock 13 immediately. The same crumbling pillars, the same gaping hole in the roof. The snarl of docking cables had been cleared away — probably salvaged by the disappointed Fallen — but she would know this place anywhere. Her spine prickled when she saw the hole in the wall that the Archon had climbed out of, bellowing at her ship.
Polaris was squatting on his heels right in the center of the room. He had his helm off and was scratching a design in the dirt with a finger. He looked up when they entered and grinned.
"'Bout time! Ursa said there were more Guardian ships incoming. I was getting bored waiting for you!"
"What are you doing here?" Dane demanded.
"I could ask the same of you," Polaris said, dark eyes laughing.
"I'm getting my NLS drive," Dane snapped. "Where is it?"
"Lose something?" a voice called. Across the room, Tory stood in a small doorway. He held up a dusty device, a jumble of wiring and black casing.
"That's ours!" Dane growled. "You'd better hand it over!"
"Funny," Tory said, turning the case over in his hands. "I don't see your name on it."
"I wouldn't expect a Dead Orbit scav to understand," Dane scoffed. "That tech is for Guardians. I won't have you turning it over to the Arach."
"Good thing that's not where it's headed," Polaris said. "We've got another buyer all lined up."
"Kinna sent me to find this drive!" Dane growled. "It belongs to her!"
"That's not the story I heard," Polaris said.
"Kinna is already commissioning a new ship," Tory added.
Dane's hands tightened into fists at his side, stymied by the truth.
"Sorry, Dane," Tory shrugged. "You're just a little too late. Guess you'll have to drive faster next time." He cocked a finger at Quarrel, gave a little thumbs up.
"You're really going to sell it?" Dane protested.
"Well, I don't need an NLS drive," Tory said. "Do you, Polaris?"
"Nope."
"What was the offer?" Dane asked. "I bet I can do better!"
Polaris stroked his chin. Tory looked a little intrigued.
"Our employer was pretty strict about her terms…" Polaris mused. "I don't know that she'd accept fistfuls of glimmer as substitute for a drive."
"I'd hate to get on her bad side," Tory said with a little shudder.
"Oh, definitely. We'd never be safe," Polaris sighed heavily.
"She's got a long memory for betrayal."
"Just ask the Cryptarch!" Polaris snickered.
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Dane snapped.
"Zinnia!" Quarrel gasped. She didn't know just how the little Warlock was involved, but she knew she had guessed right when Polaris beamed at her.
"What?!" Dane cried. "You're giving the NLS drive to Zinnia?!"
"Sure are!" Tory chirped.
"You're out of your minds! What the hell do you owe her?"
"I'd say one NLS drive," Polaris quipped.
Wait a minute, Ghost clicked. I want to check something out.
He appeared from Rest before Quarrel could say anything and flitted over to Tory and Polaris. He began scanning the box in Tory's hand.
"What are you doing?" Tory asked. He tried to move the drive away from Ghost.
Something's not right with that drive, Ghost said, following Tory's hand around.
"Looks like NLS to me!" Tory laughed, still trying to shake Ghost off.
Ah ha! I knew it! That's not even a ship component — it's an ammo canister with wires stuck in it! You just painted over it! Ghost sounded scandalized.
"Aw come on, Ghost!" Polaris groaned, throwing up his hands.
"You ruined everything!" Tory pouted.
"We had a whole plan!"
"It took us hours to come up with!"
Ghost drew his fins down, supremely embarrassed.
Well…I…but…that's…it's so…!
"So it's a fake?" Dane asked.
Quarrel began to laugh.
"So where's the real one?" she asked. "It's missing from Kinna's ship, so somebody has to have it."
"Not us," Polaris shrugged.
"Yet," Tory added.
"They were trying to throw us off the scent," Gelert said quietly. She was standing by Polaris' drawing, looking down at it thoughtfully. Quarrel stepped a little closer. It looked like a little maze, with a couple of circles and an X dotting the twisting trail.
"They were hoping we would leave with the fake so they could find the real one," Guinefort said, nodding slowly. "Clever."
"Haven't found it yet, huh?" Dane sneered. "Well, I'd wipe that grin off your face, starlight, because it's on."
"Actually, I think they have," Gelert said. She looked up, meeting Quarrel's eyes. A moment later, Quarrel understood.
"A map!" she grinned.
"Uh oh," Polaris said.
Gelert took off running across the room.
"Gelly!" Dane called. "What are you — hey!" He watched helplessly as Quarrel sped after her. Ghost zipped to her side.
"Come back here!" Tory cried. He chucked the fake NLS drive and took off running after them.
"Where is it?" Quarrel called ahead to Gelert. They were running through some very familiar looking corridors now, heading for the open area where she'd first seen Fallen ships.
"The Divide," Gelert said. "The dummy put a big X right where he hid it!"
"Hey! I'm not a dummy!" Polaris called behind them. "I just have a short memory!"
Gelert barreled out of the loading dock into the open. Quarrel's heart hammered with the excitement of the chase and the dread the familiar surroundings inspired. Gelert turned a hard right toward the chasm that once she had barely been able to see in the dark. It was a giant spillway coming right up against the building they had just left. Quarrel watched as Gelert launched herself out over the drop. Two bursts of her Light sent her hopping to a tiny ledge against the dock wall on the far side.
Quarrel skid to a stop, not wanting to attempt that jump herself. There wouldn't even be enough room on the ledge for both of them. Polaris slid to a stop beside her, Tory right behind him. Dane and Guinefort charged around the corner of the loading dock.
Gelert began to root about in the tangled shrubs clinging to the concrete and steel around her ledge.
"No!" Tory whined. "Have a heart, Gelert!"
"That'll be the day!" Polaris snickered.
Tory punched his arm.
"You seriously drew a map?" he cried.
"I was going to erase it!"
Gelert held up a small orange box.
"I guess you should have spent less time on trying to deceive us and more time getting back home with your prize," Dane crowed. "Well, I guess everything worked out all right in the end!"
"Oh, you're not leaving with that thing," Tory said.
Dane stepped up to him. "Try and stop me."
Their hands went to their knives.
"Take it easy guys —" Quarrel said.
Gelert sailed overhead, hit the ground, and began to run toward the loading dock. Tory made a move to follow and Dane jumped him. They began grappling and punching to do the Titans proud.
"Dane! Come on!" Guinefort called, standing at the loading dock door. "We've got it, let's just go! You too, fresh meat!"
Polaris looked at her across the fighting Hunters.
"Not gonna run?" he asked. Her answer was to haul on Dane's arm before he could slug Tory in the stomach.
"Stop it!" she cried.
"Let me go!" Dane snarled. He shoved her aside and lunged for Tory. He met Polaris instead. Now all three were going at it.
"Aw, hell!" Guinefort sighed.
"Guinefort! Dane!" Gelert's voice came through terse on their helm comms. "We've got Fallen in here! Hurry!"
"Coming!" Guinefort cried. He took off running, the fight forgotten. Quarrel drew her hand cannon and fired into the air. The Hunters stopped mid-swing.
"Fallen at the dock!" she growled. "Move!"
Polaris swore and scrambled to his feet, running for the loading dock. Tory struggled after him. Dane brushed the snow off his armor, adjusted his cloak.
"Good for you, Gelly," he said. "Making a distraction!"
"This is no distraction, Dane!" Guinefort cried. "We need you guys in here now!"
Dane swore even worse than Polaris.
"Come on, fresh meat!"
She locked eyes with Ghost. He chirped and went to Rest. They charged back into the building.
Quarrel entered the old ship dock right in front of Gelert and Tory tackling a Vandal. The two Hunters skewered it between them just as she readied her hand cannon. Further back in the room, Polaris and Guinefort were darting out of cover to fire at a group of Dregs trying to flank them around a pillar. Polaris still hadn't been able to put his helm on. It had been kicked across the floor in the fighting, lying against the wall with the giant hole. His long, skinny braids flew as he twisted and dodged, fending off Dregs that tried to run in pairs and drag him down. The Guardians were outnumbered at least two to one. In the time they had been fighting each other for the drive, the Fallen had managed to sneak up on them.
Gelert and Tory joined Quarrel and Dane. The four swept through the room, corralling the Fallen with gunshots and Light grenades. Guinefort and Polaris understood what they were about and began to tighten the noose, bringing their Fallen in closer to the center of the room until they were standing nearly back to back, surrounded by the Guardians on all sides. It seemed like everywhere Quarrel looked there was a knife flashing or a cloak flaring as the Hunters ducked in and out of the circle, harrying the Fallen until they were enraged and broke away from their fellows, only to be taken down by a bullet to the skull or a knife to the throat.
The last Vandal fell, screaming rage. Its armor was nearly as chewed up as a Dreg's, the ends of its red cloak severely torn. These Devils had not been having a good time of it in the Cosmodrome lately. Quarrel looked around anxiously as the others caught their breath and surveyed the room. Were the Hive going to come for them too?
"We should retreat to the drop zone before reinforcements arrive," Gelert panted.
"It's too late for that," Guinefort said. "Tigris says they're coming from that direction."
"And from ahead," Polaris said grimly, nodding toward the exit to the Divide.
"Can we make a stand in here?" Tory asked.
Oh, why didn't I pay attention? Ghost groaned.
Quarrel glanced at the hole in the wall. Maybe…
"Ghost, where does that hole lead?"
He buzzed and chirped, understanding her idea.
Let me check it out!
Quarrel followed him over as he flew up to inspect it.
"Be careful," she murmured. "Remember what crawled out of there last time. Let me go first."
It wasn't too high up for her Light to reach. She gathered her strength and bounded up into the hole. The round opening was large enough to allow her to stand at nearly full height. The tunnel was not terribly long. A bright circle of sunlight shone from the far end. Ghost floated up beside her and darted forward.
I don't see anything in here except water and silt. It looks like the grate was removed…yes! We could get through here! He turned to look at her, fins spinning joyfully.
"I think we have a way out!" she called to the others.
A massive hand shot through the sunlit opening. Quarrel grabbed for Ghost, her gauntlets closing around his fins just before the thick claws reached him. She had the impression of fine armor plating on the back of the monstrous hand, and then she was scrambling back out of the tunnel, dropping in a graceless heap to the ground below.
Wow! That was close! Ghost trilled, back at Rest. Quarrel pushed herself to standing. A familiar bellow shook the air.
"What was that?" Dane yelled.
"The Archon!" Quarrel growled, scrambling backward on her hands.
It's in the walls! Ghost cried.
The nightmare figure from her Rebirth had returned. Sliding its bulk through the tunnel, the Archon crawled its way out like a spider, terrifyingly agile for something so enormous. Dane and Polaris both swore.
The Archon gazed down at them, talons gripping the concrete, massive head swiveling. It was even worse than she had remembered. The red eyes on its helm pierced the gloom, the tubes dripping from its shoulders brushing a heavy fur collar. It spoke to them. Its rumbling voice turned to a roar that reverberated off the walls. She stared up at it, unable to move. The claw was tearing at her throat.
"Run, newbie!" Tory yelled.
The Archon dropped to the ground. Quarrel rolled and scrambled to her feet, only to be swept up in the air by her legs. She dangled like a rag doll in the Archon's grasp. It held her in front of its red eyes, each one burning a wicked gleam. It laughed at her struggling, drew a claw along her scarf, pressed the point into her neck. It began to squeeze its fist. Her shinbones creaked.
Through her cry of pain she heard gunfire. The Archon bellowed. Then she was flying through the air, high up into the room. Her back hit a metal crossbeam and it nearly put her out. She clawed desperately and somehow managed to wrap her arm around a support strut high up on the pillar she had hit. She hung helplessly in the air, perilously close to blacking out. Ghost was hollering in her head. With the last bit of her strength, she swung a leg up and clambered onto the beam. She just needed to get her bearings, just needed to stop the throbbing in her legs…
Ghost's healing helped clear her head some. Quarrel heaved for breath and watched stunned as Polaris and Tory, Gelert and Guinefort, all dodged around the gigantic Fallen, worrying it like tiny songbirds around an eagle. The Archon was already bleeding. Thick, blackish rivulets streamed down its powerful legs. It was also laughing, amused by the audacity of the Hunters. It carried a heavy rifle in two of its muscular arms. The piece was so large, even Lord Shaxx would have had difficulty hefting it. It fired with thunderous booms, launching shrapnel shot like a canon blast. She watched in horror as Polaris nearly had his left leg torn completely off by one shot. The Hunter hit the ground hard. The Archon raised its taloned foot high, ready to crush him.
Tory leaped in front of Polaris. He was ablaze with fire, his entire body engulfed in blinding solar Light. Quarrel saw the flash of a very familiar flaming weapon in his palms. The Golden Gun!
Tory dove to escape being trampled by the Archon's powerful stomp, shoving Polaris as he went. His first shot went wide, the golden bullet searing into the concrete wall behind the Fallen. If he hadn't stopped to save Polaris, the shot would have certainly connected. If he hadn't stopped, Polaris might never rise again. The Archon would have certainly tried to grab his Ghost, and it would have been instantly crushed in the Fallen's greedy hands.
Tory whipped around. His second shot glanced the Archon's side. The bullet left a smoking, molten trail in its armor. The Archon clapped one hand to its side. Tory dove again to avoid sharing Polaris' fate with the rifle. Polaris was dragging himself behind Quarrel's pillar, his leg already knitting together.
Tory's third shot struck the rifle. The thing exploded in a spray of molten shrapnel and ash. The Archon wailed, clawing at itself, the embers burning where it touched soft spots between its armor. Its hands were badly damaged. The smell of charred flesh reached Quarrel's respirators. The solar Light surrounding Tory winked out. He scrambled behind the pillar with Polaris. The enraged Archon bellowed and began to stalk toward them, gnashing and cursing in its thick tongue. Tory was helping Polaris to his feet. They both looked up, watching their doom approach.
Quarrel fired from her perch, hand cannon bucking in her palms. Gelert and Guinefort leaped forward, simultaneously crackling with the Blade Dance. Dane stood his ground, firing systematically up at the Archon's helm, aiming for the red eyes, each shot sparking against the hard armor. The Archon bellowed and shook its head, turning and making a swipe for Dane. Guinefort and Gelert swarmed the beast, dancing up its torso, blades slashing in a whirlwind of sparks, twisting away when the huge grasping hands got too close. The Archon spun and spat, stomping massive feet and wailing its anger. Guinefort and Gelert landed beside the pillar, their Light spent.
"Go! Go!" Tory yelled at them, pointing toward the doorway she and Dane's crew had come in by. "Fight together to the outside!" He looked up at Quarrel, waving desperately. She nodded, readying herself to jump down.
Dane cried out and narrowly avoided being snatched up by the Archon. Forced to move by the monster's rage, he was now separated from them all. He shot his hand cannon dry, whipped open and reloaded the chamber so fast his hands were a blur. The Archon raised a fist, ready to bring it down on the Hunter's head.
Quarrel hurled herself from the strut before she could even think about what she had planned. She fell straight onto the Archon's helm and grabbed hold of the long tubes snaking around its neck and mouth. Shock dagger in hand, she drove the point of the blade into the space beneath the Archon's jaw. The Archon snarled and swiped at her. She wrapped her legs around its neck and stabbed again, missing her mark as the Archon lurched, puncturing a tube's thick wall. The breached tube popped and hissed, black gas spewing into her visor. The Archon's growls turned to a sharp whine. Again and again she stabbed. One of the Archon's fists hit her square in the side, dislodging her from her perch. She kept her hold on the blade, wrenching it through thick, corded tendons as she fell. The dagger caught against the Archon's fur collar and she was dangling again, whipped back and forth by its rage. She grabbed another tube for purchase. It came free from the helm and disgorged a thick spray of gas, coating her completely. A cloying, sweet scent choked the air out of her helm. She gasped, dizzy from the Archon's struggle and the overwhelming cloud.
She felt huge fingers grip her round the middle. She was wrenched from the Archon's neck, the dagger slipping from her palms. Without thought, she turned to fire, her Light surging up. The Archon howled and squeezed its fist. Her ribs collapsed first — an agony of terrible, grating crunches. She would have cried out, but her lungs were punctured by her own splintered bones. Her mouth gaped soundless, trying to call for Ghost. Far below her, Dane burned in his own Light, raising the beautiful fiery gun to the Fallen.
A great crack. Her spine snapped.
Music, distorted. As heard from a great distance, or maybe underwater.
"— are you a Ghost or aren't you?! Just Revive her already!"
I know, I know! I'm going to! Just hang on, I — yes! I've got you! I've got you! Yes! It's okay! I did it! I did it! You're okay!
Quarrel gasped, sucking in cold air without a respirator, feeling like she could never take in enough. Ghost hovered above her, staring straight into her eyes just like the very first time.
"There she is!" Polaris cried, above and to her right.
"Hey! All right, newbie!" That was Tory, to her left.
I did it! Ghost was beside himself with delight. I did it! I brought you back! I really did it! His fins spun like a motor.
She turned her head and saw Guinefort staring down at her, her shocked face reflected in his visor's smooth curve.
"Welcome back!"
"The Archon..?" she croaked.
"Is dead," Tory said, and pinched her cheek. "You did it, newbie! You killed him!"
She winced. The pain shocked her out of numbness.
Ghost washed scan after scan over her, chirping and buzzing happily.
No lingering injuries or traces of Ether poisoning, heart rate in normal parameters, oxygen levels acceptable, everything in its proper place…!
Two hands thrust into her field of view, one each from Gelert and Guinefort. She slipped her shaking hands into theirs. They hauled her to her feet and caught her when she swayed.
The Archon lay motionless a bare few meters from where they stood. Its front was covered in black ichor and smoking ash. A cloud of black gas was slowly dispersing above its corpse.
"It's dead?" she asked, incredulous.
"As a doornail!" Polaris chuckled. "Thanks to you!"
"M-me…?"
It was hard to remember just what had happened. She had a vision of grappling with the dagger in the Archon's neck, a memory of terrible pain.
"Well, with some help from us," Tory shrugged.
"Some," Polaris amended.
Dane was standing a little ways off from the group, his arms crossed.
"Some?" he scoffed.
"You opened that sucker's throat as easy as gutting a fish!" Tory grinned at Quarrel. "With that and all his Ether leaking out from those damaged hoses, it was no problem for the rest of us to take him down!"
"Especially after he got distracted by killing you," Guinefort added, his voice as merry as the others.
"Yeah! Good plan, if you ask me!" Tory said.
"I…I died?"
"Sure did!" Guinefort patted her shoulder. "Don't feel bad. It's not like it's the first time! Heh, it certainly won't be the last."
"Happens to us all," Tory nodded sagely. "Besides, your death came with a particularly awesome story."
"Uh, a ridiculously awesome story," Polaris grinned.
"As in, the Hunter's Lounge is totally buying us drinks for the next month." Tory rubbed his hands gleefully.
"Hell, for the next Age!"
Quarrel stared at the dead Archon, trying to sort everything out.
"Uh…but it…I…I got crushed?"
"Pfft!" Tory waved a hand dismissively. "We don't have to tell it like that!"
"Yeah!" Guinefort said. "You gotta make sure your story sounds good."
"Not lying, mind you," Polaris added hastily. "Just making sure the telling doesn't interfere with the glory."
"Right," Guinefort agreed.
"You weren't merely crushed," Tory explained, waving his hands in the air as he searched for words. "You were fighting for every inch of blade, twisting it in while the Archon squeezed in its death throes."
"Your dagger sank deeper and deeper into its throat," Guinefort added, "until it gasped its last as your head flew off!"
Gelert sighed.
Quarrel swayed again.
"My head came off?!"
"No, not really!" Guinefort laughed.
"But they don't know that!" Tory said.
"Who…?" she asked weakly.
"The Hunters we're gonna tell this to at the party, of course!" Polaris cheered. "This calls for a celebration, newbie! You killed an Archon!"
She met Ghost's bright blue gaze.
That's right! he chirped.
"The other Fallen!" she said, suddenly panicked, remembering the net closing around them.
"They ran off when the Archon kicked the bucket," Polaris assured her. "Those that didn't were sent packing."
You were out for a little while, Ghost clicked. I, uh, wanted to make sure I did things right.
"All right, hooray for us," Dane said. "We should get out of here!"
"Agreed," Tory said. There were no protests from the rest of the group.
Dane stalked toward the entryway then stopped, his back stiffening.
"Where's the drive?"
"Transmatted it to my ship," Gelert said.
"Nice work. "Let's move."
Tory and Polaris helped Quarrel walk out. Whatever they felt about losing the drive, they weren't in the mood to argue any further. She wanted to apologize to them, wanted to tell them that she had every intention of gifting the drive to Zinnia. But they would find out soon enough when she did just that. In the meantime, Dane wouldn't erupt in the middle of the Cosmodrome upon learning of her plans.
It still felt rotten watching them transmat to their ships empty handed.
The landing sequence's alert chimes woke her. Quarrel groaned, struggling up from an uncomfortable sprawl across the pilot seat.
Rise and shine! Ghost chirped, far too cheery for her fatigue to handle. We're just a few minutes from the Hangar!
She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. When she removed them, Ghost was sending a scan over her. It had to be the fifth one since she'd boarded the ship. She shot him a look and he twitched his fins sheepishly.
Just making sure everything is in the right place.
"Believe me, I'll let you know if something isn't," she grunted. She twisted around to grab her survival pack she'd stowed in the jumpseat. A little orange box was sitting on top of it. She stared. It couldn't be…!
"Ghost, is that what I think it is?" she asked.
Ghost clicked curiously, hovering over her shoulder.
That's the NLS drive! But how did it get here?
"I thought Gelert took it?" Quarrel frowned.
Me too. Well…I guess we should just hang on to it, huh? Seeing as it's ours now anyway!
She stowed it in her pack as the ship lined up with the Hangar bay. The setting sun cast long shadows across the launch floor. Ghost returned to the console, helping her keep an eye on the autopilot. She was getting used to these landings, but she definitely didn't want a repeat of the first.
She met Guinefort and Gelert inside the Hangar. The two had landed minutes before her. Dane was nowhere to be seen.
"He's a little upset," Guinefort said, shaking his head. "It appears Gelly misplaced the drive."
"Transmat can be tricky." Gelert shrugged.
Quarrel went to open her pack to show them it hadn't been lost. Gelert put a hand over hers and Guinefort chuckled.
"Better get that to Polaris quick," he said. "If Dane gets it, he won't be giving it to anyone but the highest bidder."
Quarrel grinned.
"Thanks, you guys."
"Aw, shucks. I just want to be invited to the party tonight," Guinefort said. Gelert gave him a withering look.
"You'll be guests of honor," Quarrel said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put this where it belongs."