Twilight Torsion
A/N at the end. Responding to Klever, and a bit of rambling.
"This is - This can't be happening!" said Soren. He was crammed into a jumpship cockpit with Kaara, looking at a screen to the side displaying the holes in the Wall.
"Without anti-air cannons, this occurring was only a matter of time. According to Morik's plan, this doesn't change anything. We still have a chance."
"You aren't going to say how low they are?"
"If Enki were here, I'd be scolded for doing so. You should remember."
"'No matter what the data says, there are always outliers.' Says the android."
Soren shook his head, mourning their lost partner. It didn't help thinking Enki was stuck in the Tower, working like a Frame instead of a respectable Exo.
The jumpship banked, high above the Ketch, staying in its cannon's blind-spot.
"'Use power for what you believe in,'" said Kaara. "Enki did exactly that. I'm sure he has no regrets."
"We've got an update. Morik's about to confront the Cabal Valus. I'm gonna transmat and go help. Help me with the telemetry, will ya?"
Kaara nodded, paying attention to the controls. Her Ghost worked in tandem with Soren's to pull off the long distance transmat. It helped that there were so many Guardians gathered around the destination to cross-reference with. Soren vanished, leaving Kaara to await her signal.
The Guardians, in general, began to fall back. Several groups broke away completely to intercept the invading forces to the city. The invading Fallen were exclusively Kings, draped in yellow cloth and white armor. Under the Tower, where once Morik had received acceptance, now hostile Eliksni crowded into the plaza, reorganizing. Inside the city, only Kings and those who could pass the Guardians gathered. Not a single Cabal was present, however; their orders were to continue field combat as long as possible. By stalling and killing as many Guardians as they could, they hoped to weaken the Great Machine's interest in their foes, prove themselves worthy, and reclaim that which was rightfully theirs.
Morik and his fellow Guardians stood, weapons aimed but silent. The Cabal Valus and his allies did the same, in an odd cease-fire.
"Valus," began Morik. He paused, waiting for a thrumb and translation.
"What?"
"Let us duel. No weapons. No shields. No Light."
More of the Cabal's odd laughter, quieter this time. Members of the army on both sides began speaking out in protest of the idea, but the two huge keystones continued speaking as if they were alone.
"Much well, _-_-. Taking up offers. Wishing no disappointments."
The Valus handed off his Heavy Slug Thrower to a nearby Legionary, and Morik stowed his auto-rifle. Their allies backed off and formed a rough ring around them as fighting resumed between the two armies.
"I hope you know what you're doing," said Morik's Ghost.
Morik put up his fists and rushed, silent and concentrating. The Valus thumped his chest and took a great step forward, aided by jump-jets, throwing his shoulder into Morik. Morik stumbled to the side, off balance, when the Valus twisted and punched him in the chest. For being so heavy and thick, Morik had expected a Valus to be slow and deliberate like his fellow Phalanx and Legionaries. While he'd agreed to not using weapons, jump-jets weren't weapons. So, neither, then, was ether. Morik blinked behind the Valus, taking it off guard as it took another step in to press the advantage. With his upper arms, he grabbed the Valus by the head, using his lower arms to grab it around the waist. Even pressed against its back, Morik could only barely reach halfway around the stocky alien, but channeled his ether and lifted the Valus, blue mist coalescing around him. With a roar, Morik's ether surged and he blinked, straight up, whirling and tossing the Valus headfirst toward the ground. Morik crashed to the dirt on his feet while the Valus struggled to recover, rolling over onto its stomach and heaving itself onto its feet as well.
Morik's arms ached from the throw, and his ether concentration had dropped noticeably based on his Ghost's meter display. Normally, Morik had plenty of ether to last through a day and a half or so. Blinking while taking almost a ton of flesh and armor with him had exhausted the half-day's worth, leaving him a third or so remaining. And the Valus didn't seem the least bit bothered.
Originally, cheers had erupted from the Guardians at the feat, but they were seasoned warriors. They knew a bad call when they saw one. The Valus knew it as well, and it quickly boosted forward, firing an uppercut at Morik's chin. Morik blocked, but was pushed backward over the dirt until the Valus' jets ceased. This time it was the Valus who lifted Morik, gripping his helmet with thick fingers and yanking at his Titan Mark. Morik was whipped through the air like a doll and slammed down with colossal force, the Valus planting his foot on Morik's back a second later.
Morik made the choice to blink, expending more ether, before the Valus could brace and stomp again. He appeared horizontal in the air over the Valus, wrapping his arms around its helmet and twisting while lifting, attempting to compromise the pressurized suit. The Valus again took hold, slamming Morik back into the dirt. Morik rolled before it could stomp on him again, popping to his feet and punching it in the face twice before it could react. The hits didn't do more than dizzy it for a moment, but Morik blinked behind and to the left of it. As the Valus spun to face him, swinging an arm in a back-fist, Morik ducked and kicked it in the head. With the Valus spinning, the force of the kick threw off its balance. Morik spun as well, putting down one foot and lashing out with the other, hitting the Valus under the arm. The big Cabal toppled, rolling to get up again. Morik blinked, bending down and grabbing the Cabal's helmet, putting a foot on its chest for leverage. On its back, the Cabal couldn't find any purchase of its own, its thick short limbs lacking the dexterity to get up. Instead, it fired its jump-jets, bowling over Morik who still held on.
The two slid over the dirt until Morik lost his grip and tumbled to a stop. The Cabal stopped its jets, rolled over, and stood. Morik stood a moment later, tired. The two stood still a moment, and Morik trained every sense on the Valus, waiting for his opportunity. Would it speak? Move? Without thinking, Morik was calling back to things his fellow Vanguards had taught him. His instincts had taken over, perhaps too late, but he felt a calm wash over him. All this was wordless, thoughtless. It passed even Morik's notice. But because of all this, when the Valus made the slightest deep sound, Morik blinked forward. His left foot hit the ground first and he let his sudden momentum carry him through a step forward, twisting his hips and shoulders to throw a straight corkscrew punch. The Valus barely had time to react, admirably not flinching, but too slow to counter. The punch connected, hitting it square in the face and knocking it over. After that, though, it was Morik who was too slow. He pounced, going for the Valus' helmet again, and got a chest full of jet boosters. Morik hit the ground on his back, smoking, while the Valus rolled and got up again. In two booster-aided strides, its foot was on Morik's back again. It pivoted, slamming its other foot down without lifting the first, standing on Morik. Under the sounds of grinding armor plates and jumping dirt, the snapping of Morik's neck went largely unheard.
Soren appeared on the battlefield next to a rock where Cayde sat in cover, firing his hand cannon over the top of the rock and picking off heavier targets that moved close to the front lines.
"Where's Morik? Why am I here?!" said Soren.
"If you didn't transmat to your intended location, that probably means they're dead. I wouldn't worry if it's Morik. Someone'll g-... Someone'll get him!"
Cayde ducked back behind the rock, reloading. "Or," he said, looking back over the top, "You could go do it yourself." He fired a few times, glancing at Soren. "Just a thought."
With that, Cayde all but forgot Soren was there, focusing on the fight. Soren was irritated a bit, but ignored it. He sprinted toward his original intended destination, light on his feet. Fire arced over his head like a stream of napalm; his fellow Warlocks pushing back an enemy charge in support of Titans leading a counter. The rush of Light washed over Soren, only fueling his urgency. It wasn't far to the site of the duel, but by the time Soren got there the Valus had won, and was busy bowling over a line of Guardians, leading a charge. Soren jumped over his fellow Guardians, and the first line of advancing enemies, spotting Morik's Ghost… And the Silent Fang appearing nearby to destroy it. Soren's Light burst from his body, flaming wings jetting from his back, and he thrust a hand forward. A ball of Solar energy spiraled from his palm, attaching to the helmet of the uncloaked Vandal. Blinded, it flailed and reactivated its camouflage, exploding a second later. Soren drew in diffuse Light, reviving Morik and draining his Radiance. The Ghost's many parts spun outward, vanishing and causing a bright flash. When the glare cleared, Morik stood once more as enemies all around opened fire. Soren jumped away, flying back over to allied lines. Morik used Fist of Havoc, clearing a wide area and leaving a pulsing Aftermath, before running in the direction he'd seen Soren go.
"The Valus is leading a charge! Mark him!" yelled Soren, mostly to his Ghost. A waypoint appeared over the Valus' head, being broadcast to the other Guardians. Soren looked around and his eye was captured by a familiar figure.
"Azariah…?" said Soren, his voice low. Three Gunslingers had jumped over their allies and were running all-out for the Valus' position. Soren was mistaken; it was a Guardian who happened to be female, and happened to be wearing exactly the same armor as Azariah. Her IFF said as much when Soren checked. Still, the Gunslingers intercepted the Valus at the same time as it reached a hill, atop which stood a team of Voidwalkers gathering Light. The huge Cabal leveled his Heavy Slug Thrower, pulling the trigger and aiming to tear the Guardians apart when a Solar bullet hit his gun. Another two hit his shoulder before he could fully turn to face the threat. Soren knew even another six wouldn't punch through the Valus' armor. But under the hoods of the other two Hunters, seen in flashes of gold as they raised their guns, were the glowing eyes of two Celestial Nighthawks. In perfect order, the two Gunslingers fired one after another, dead center on the Valus' helmet. The first shot dented the forehead plating, the second blew right through it, colliding with the back of the helmet and jetting Solar Light out of the entry wound. The Valus toppled and Soren felt the world slow, the six Voidwalkers on the hill raising their hands together. The thump of the Valus hitting the dirt never sounded, as it and every ally of Darkness in a wide cone in front of the Voidwalkers floated into the air, target practice for the Guardians all around.
Morik's armor clacking together and his heavy footsteps preceded his appearance behind Soren.
"The enemy ground command is dead. We have another part to play. We should go."
Soren, still in shock from everything that had just happened as he'd watched, nodded. He felt far away, like what he'd seen was in a movie and not happening to him. Mistakenly seeing Azariah, the perfect planning of his fellow Guardians, all of it rendering him speechless. All he could do to function was follow Morik away from the battle, toward their predetermined rally point.
"Reporting the enemy external forces repelled, my Kell," said Gravian over comms. "Other than myself, House of Light is already in the city, aiding in holding the streets against the Kings."
"Guess that's our signal," said Soren. He, Morik, Viksis, and Ramiks were standing on the balcony of the Tower, facing in toward the City. A jumpship flew in slowly overhead, settling very close to the balcony. The three Eliksni jumped, all landing atop the ship, causing it to dip temporarily before it compensated for the new weight. Viksis used his Light to anchor them to the ship and they all knelt down.
"I hope you know what you're doing," said Soren.
"We are prepared, thanks to Variks and his data warfare. We will not be fooled again," said Morik.
"Kell of Kings will not escape this time. His death will delay this invasion," said Viksis.
"Ready to depart," said Kaara, over comms from inside her ship.
"Begin operation!" said Morik.
"Enemy in defensive position, moving to-"
"Enemy sniper eliminated, supporting -"
"We need help! Their Light -"
"Stop this nonsense and let me speak with the Kell! -"
The chatter in the throne room continued at a dull hum, Dregs answering and relaying communications. With everything going on, practiced and quiet, the shrieking of a Dreg at the radar console startled them all.
"Guardian ship approaching! The same one from earlier! Cannons can't pivot to fire! Advise!"
"Prepare to board enemy Ketch," said Kaara, calm as could be sticking to a strict flight path in the small blind-spot of the Ketch's cannons. Several times they attempted to fire on the small jumpship, burning trails dangerously close but never directly hitting. Viksis kept them stuck to the top of the ship as Kaara sped up to the enemy flagship. At the last second, she banked, practically scraping the tops of their helmets against the side. Viksis reversed the gravity manipulation, causing himself, Ramiks, and Morik to fall toward the hull of the Ketch. They rolled tightly, dizzy from the change in gravity. Kaara broke away, flying up and evading to get above the Ketch before it blew her out of the sky. The three Eliksni recovered, running on the hull of the Ketch toward an external service door. In moments, Morik's Ghost had the hatch open and the fireteam climbed inside…
Unseen by radar, unseen by all, a figure fell from the evening sky. Black cloth, like the void of space, designs of a sun in threads as gold as the light from the City against the darkening sky. Armor and cloth shrouded by an ornate cape, gold glowing eyes on a simple helmet. An unknown warrior infiltrated the Ketch from above, to deliver words like seeds, planting ideas from the infamous master of knowledge who lives beyond the Reef...
Midnight Mutiny coming soon…
A/N: Klever, "someone wasn't paying attention to the swooping Skiff blowing off the front of the tower. When the enemy army was dropping in? Right before that, when that Skiff swooped just over the Traveler's barrier? Smoke billowing into the Vanguard Hall? Of course the Fallen would think of that… Err, I would think of… You get it." Back to writing the cookie-cutter-character Kell and me trying to make this interesting until the final arc. Because I'm sure a lot of you have noticed how everything's just going Morik's way so far. And probably assume it always will. Which, to be fair, could be wrong… If I was the kind of guy who wanted to just kill off my main character and use another one. Stories like that bug me, though. So shoot me. I do agree hardship makes for more interesting characters, this just isn't that kind of story. It's just cool scenes and some storytelling, I get it. The practice is for tone.