-A Fallen stronghold on Europa-
Gunfire raged on. The sound of superheated plasma flying through the air accompanied the smell of melting flesh. Deadly pulses of the concentrated energy blew by Shepherd-2's head, the difference between life and death being mere inches away as he charged a path through hordes of Fallen. He fired bursts from his rifle at them with pinpoint accuracy, in between fatally bashing in their brittle skulls with the hilt of his weapon. The destruction on the horizon was abhorrent, and heaps of rubble from buildings demolished by explosive fire littered the frozen landscapes.
Even then, it could not even compare to the amount of freshly slain bodies, purple Eliksni blood decorating the snow-covered ground. Without joy, he added more to the count, one by one.
All he could do was press forward.
-6 hours earlier-
-Underground of The Last City, Earth-
"You look like shit."
Shepherd put his drink on the table and turned towards the feminine voice. A thin figure leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, hiding in a dark corner of the room.
"Hazel." He sighed, turning his focus back to his drink. "Are you so lonely that you have to hide and wait in random bars for conversation with strangers?"
He takes a sip, golden liquid slipping through his metallic jaw.
"You're no stranger," She fired back, "As much as you try to act as one. I know you're always here before a big strike."
She stepped into the dim light of the underground bar, revealing sand-colored gear that covered her from head to toe.
A beige hood covered a head of jet black, shoulder-length hair, parting to the right. Dark leather straps hiding a variety of different knives adorned a light brown combat jacket. More were concealed on a pair of cargo pants, and even more within her black combat boots. Thankfully, a tattered cloth cloak hid everything (mostly) from the backside. The skin on her face glowed a tinge of light blue, contrasted by a bright orange glow from her eyes; she was an Awoken, a human subspecies who once spent centuries in a lost dimension in space, their genetic makeup forever changed by the radiation of the cosmos.
She took a seat beside Shepherd and gently nudged him on the shoulder.
"Can exos like you even get drunk?" She asked curiously.
"No." He took another gulp. "We can eat and drink to our heart's content, but alcohol has no effect on us."
"Then why even spend the extra glimmer on it?"
Shepherd smiled. Or at least, the corners of his eyes did. The metal clamp he considered his lips were more or less solid, projecting gravelly speech from an electronic voice box from within. He slid his drink over, offering a sip, which she took.
"Ginger ale," she chuckled. "You're no drunkard after all."
"Brings back good memories of family. It was always my go-to at the dinner table. Back when I was…" His voice drifted off with a tinge of melancholy.
"Back when you were a human."
A brief silence filled the air, with nothing but the whirring of the automated robot bartender wiping down empty tables. Finally, Shepherd broke the silence by clearing his throat. It was faked, of course. His throat and all inner parts automatically cleared themselves continuously, maintaining prime working efficiency for his body in all situations. He looked at her with his artificial, light-emitting eyes. She looked back with caring ones.
"Sorry. When you were a human body," She clarified. "You haven't told me a whole lot about your past life," she began.
He waved her off. "I'll tell you another day," he explained. "Promise. We should get going, it's about time for the briefing."
Hazel stands up and salutes him. "Sounds good, O ever-punctual fireteam leader." Hazel joked. "Commander Zavala awaits."
"Best not to keep him waiting."