Chapter Two: No Guardian Left Behind
From The Annals of Remembrance, : …" Of the many acts of heroic sacrifice during the Final Battle of Twilight Gap, the greatest warriors who ever strode the earth were the few Titans remaining among the defenders of the Last City. 100 armored-clad giants, armed with the latest generation of small arms and heavy weapons, and imbued with powers gifted to them from The Traveler itself. For forty days and forty nights, the 100 Titans who would become legend as Those Who Held the Line stood their ground as wave after wave of fearsome alien invaders tried to break through their formidable defense. During a lull in the fighting, Commander Sontarr, before his death, honored nine of his subordinates with The Mark of The Executioner with the edict, 'Victory in the End or Death for All.' Of the nine, his favored champion was Keisari dux Hawkmoon, from the House of The Fist of the North Star. An Awoken lord and the First of his Name, he rained death and mayhem upon the enemy without mercy or regret. By the hundreds, then the hundreds of thousands, to sums too innumerable to list here blood flowed from the slaughter he wrought either by bullet, bomb, or blade. In the ranks, he was called 'Foehammer' but the Enemy knew him by another: The Ravager', one of the Unholy Trinity, The Accursed Lords of the Final Death. Together with the Kraven One, and The Shatterer of Hordes the invaders from the stars trembled with fear at the mere mention of their names. Even in this age, the Enemy rues the day of their return for the Wrath of the Heavens will once again be unleashed. They know the Second Coming of the Unholy Trinity will herald the end of their worlds…" -anon.
Old Chicago, Earth
Inside the ruins of the Harbor Point skyscraper was the current home for the House of the Celestial Tyrant. Its sigil was a crimson spiral on a field of black. Their Kell held a seat on the Uthchadas, the Fallen Council of Chiefs. Their collective heritage stretched back for several millennia rich in the sack and pillage of entire civilizations. The House of the Celestial Tyrant claimed to have been the first among the noble houses to invade human space. Their captains were renowned for their taste in bloodshed and torture. However there was one who stood apart in his excesses. Ar'rakyss the Unyielding, captain of the battlecruiser Corpse-Eater, sat on a throne made of human bones and rusted iron. The Fallen captain made the giving of the gift of pain into fine art.
His handiwork decorated the walls of his impromptu throne room. He was working on a plan to break the Last City's defenses when he was interrupted mid-thought by one of his lowly Dregs. The captain's body language clearly showed his annoyance.
My lord, a prisoner has been brought here. We believe he is one of the guardians responsible for the death of our crewmen. , the Dreg announced in a series of clicks and hisses.
Underneath his helm, Ar'rakyss the Unyielding grimaced. The loss of on one of his own transport craft and its skilled pilots disgusted him. The Fallen captain wanted retribution on the humans and their allies in the worst way. He just hoped this prisoner lived long enough for him to complete the mural he currently was laboring on. His last few subjects were very unsatisfying for dying in the middle of his creative mood. It was hard to be an artist when the conquered are too frail for his own compositions. He angrily waved one of his four arms towards the dreg to continue with his report. The Fallen captain tossed away a sharpened femur bone that he was using as a chisel.
He is of the class the humans call Titan. And he is wearing a very strange mark. We had to call in the Loremaster to identify it. He went pale at the sight of the titan's sigil. It is a blood-red skull cleaved by a golden axe on a field of midnight-blue. The Loremaster says it's the insignia of one of the Accursed Lords of Final Death. I- *uuck….
The dreg never finished his sentence as his captain crushed his throat with one powerful blow. The dreg collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap as Ar'rakyss the Unyielding roared his displeasure at this news. Over time he had come to know the human culture, their history, their mythology. The Fallen captain knew that hope, in any form, was a lethal weapon that could derail his people's plan to dominate the galaxy. This was a totally unacceptable development. And of course his minions bring the guardian here! Ar'rakyss the Unyielding strapped on his massive swords and made his way to the makeshift brig down below. His creative mood was now ruined. He waved over a quartet of Vandals, his personal guard, towards the elevator. Maybe he needed some inspiration by interrogating this new prisoner.
The Last City, Earth
Commander Zavala and Cayde-6 were monitoring the situation in Old Chicago with interest. Fireteam Obsidian knew how to stir up a hornet's nest. The Fallen hadn't been seriously challenged in that sector for ages. Those scavengers had just lost their holdings in Old Russia. Now the FOTC was renewing their offensive in the ancient wilds of North America.
"I need the status of Fireteam Obsidian." growled the Awoken commander.
Geordi 51-50 turned from the console he was working on. The robot transferred the holographic screen he was monitoring to the central conference table where the Vanguard were busy receiving status reports from various FOTC units and their embedded fireteams. The robot's hands flew through a series of complex keystrokes as he synched both the audio and video feeds from Old Chicago. Commander Zavala nodded his thanks as he turned to confer with Cayde-6.
"So it looks like we're getting the results of The Speaker's audacity. What are your thoughts Cayde? Can we secure the Midwest sector of the North America zone by the end of the spring?"
Cayde-6 finished reviewing the latest updates from the field. It was a serious gamble reviving the Black Guardians then assigning them to one of the worst regions to fight in. Yet, Fireteam Obsidian had consistently proven themselves more than capable of taking on the Enemy even three centuries later. Their time in stasis didn't dull their lethal edge. While their successes were raising the morale of the FOTC and the citizens here in The Last City, there were still grumblings among the Consensus who were concerned that the Black Guardians would turn on them at the first opportunity. Which was why the Vanguard reached a compromise with the Consensus is assigning Fireteam Obsidian to FOB Leonidas in Old Chicago. They were listed as an independent unit separate from the local command and reported only to the Vanguard.
The Exo hunter swiveled his head towards Commander Zavala. "The 1st Murican Rangers have located Princess Yizi il-Allitys Feystorm and have put her aboard a Javelin transport headed straight here to the Tower. And yes, I think with the available FOTC units we have on-site, we can force out the Fallen from the Midwest sector by this spring. That's the good news, Zav."
"So what's the bad? They took out one of the Fallen's major communications and supply hubs! Plus, we finally have some leverage in our talks with the Queen of the Reef for an alliance to finally rid ourselves of the various alien factions occupying the Sol system. So again, Cayde, what's with the pessimistic tone in your voice?"
Cayde-6 flicked the holographic screen with the latest update from the Midwest sector on it towards the titan commander. His photo-receptors flashed iridescent blue as he typed in some command on his own virtual keyboard. The death or capture of a guardian, any guardian even a blacklisted one, was a serious cause for the Vanguard to be concerned. He just hoped that the armorer at FOB Leonidas remembered that tactical nukes weren't part of Fireteam Obsidian's regular issue.
Old Chicago, 5km from the Fallen Occupation Zone
Mal'xian Chak-Tii levitated a few feet above the ground with his hands outstretched and palms up. Twin globes of swirling, golden energy spun around him as he weaved a complex pattern of hand gestures. The eyes of his Pallid Mask helmet flared as the warlock used his powers to locate their missing brother-in-arms. Satisfied with the results of his search, the Black Guardian floated back to the ground then summoned his ghost to materialize in front of him.
"Nine, are you confident that the information on the memory crystal that we confiscated from Princess Feystorm is accurate? And that we can finally access the JORMUNGAND network? Keisari's life depends on your answer old friend…"
The titanium-yellow ghost turned its single photo-receptor towards the warlock. It seemed to be tut-tutting his assigned guardian. The JORMUNGAND network was one of the hundreds of Golden Age technology the Vanguard searched for and hadn't recovered until now. Princess Feystorm had located The Argonne Treasure which would upset the balance of power here in the Sol system. The warlock had found it as he was checking over the princess for any injuries while she was a prisoner of the Fallen. He smiled underneath his Pallid Mask. He made a mental note to conduct a more vigorous interrogation of the Awoken princess when Fireteam Obsidian was recalled to the Tower. The Black Guardians were finally going home to the Last City. This time the Consensus and everyone else would find out the hard way that these guardians never, ever played by anyone else's rules.
"You of all people should know there are no guarantees. But to answer your question, yes, the JORMUNGAND network is operational. We have the access codes."
Nine went back to making repairs on the warlock's sparrow. There were days he wished the Traveler had assigned him to the Shipwright, Amanda Holliday. Now there was a being who truly appreciated his talents. The ghost sighed as he thought of the many vehicles stored in the Tower's Hangar Bay. He imagined himself as the supervisor of a robot crew doing daily maintenance in relative safety not out here beyond the Wall with a murderous warlock for a companion.
The warlock opened the team channel on the Ultrawave transceiver. "DarkStar to Bloodhawk."
"Bloodhawk. You finished communing with the spirits beyond or what? We need to recover Foehammer before these asswipes decide to double-check for other intruders."
Sliver Longstride had trained his Gozen-C sniper rifle on the compound below him. He had identified the different hard-points to be taken out and uploaded the information to the warlock. He just hoped this improvised plan had better results than the last time they conducted an assault together. The hunter winced at the memory of being immersed in a regeneration tank for a week or two. Mal'xian Chak-Tii's plans usually involved lots of mass destruction with either something burning or glowing with radioactivity.
He made another pass with the LongView SLR20 scope to notice anything that would tell him if the Fallen were aware of their presence in the area. Thankfully, the 1st Murican Rangers had secured Princess Feystorm and were transporting her back to the Vanguard for debriefing.
"Thank you so much for the vote of confidence, hunter. I have the coordinates and am creating the strike packet now. Nine and Eight will do their parts in this little drama. Then we can grab our errant titan and go back to the Tower as heroes. Satisfied?" Malx'ian Chak-Tii finished the modifications on the settings his K'am-ock staff. Yet another relic of the Golden Age once wielded by mighty Supremes and used to be a symbol of a warlock's prowess. It was a weapon for a real supreme not that weakling currently leading the Coven, Ikora Rey. He would have finished the stripling off but a platoon of Security Forces had finally intervened at the cost of most them being hospitalized with serious injuries. Mal'xian Chak-Tii still had a score to settle with his fellow warlock. He was close to attaining the dark secrets needed to fully ascend into a higher being. This present revival was a slight detour to that goal. The warlock readied himself for the impending assault.
Harbor Point, inside the Fallen Occupation Zone
Keisari dux Hawkmoon came back to consciousness with a start. The last thing he remembered was being captured by the Fallen. He tried to move his arms and legs but it was pointless. The titan realized his captors had half-a-brain after all by employing a paralysis grid to keep him in place. They also used gravometric manacles on his wrists and ankles to ensure he didn't reach out to rip out their throats. Why they hadn't stripped him out of his armor was puzzling. That was the only positive factor in this bad situation. He re-booted his armor's operating system then checked his status. His personal shield was slowly recharging but he'd leave it off for now until he could actually escape.
He knew his fireteam was probably on the move searching for his exact location. Sliver was using his tracking skills learned in the wastelands while Chak-Tii utilized whatever black magick mumbo-jumbo to recreate his captors' movements. That concussion he received at that last donnybrook still made his head ache. Hawkmoon wished he still had a jug of that Venusian ale he stole from The Bastards Lounge in the Tower. It would have soothed the pains that wracked his body.
Hawkmoon quickly assessed his surroundings. The walls were solid concrete overgrown with mold or lichen. The paralysis grid and gravometric manacles were well-worn but in working shape meaning that the Fallen had been camped here for some time. The titan used his CVI and the helmet's own sensor suite to gather as much information about his surroundings. He tried using the Ultrawave transceiver but grimaced when all he got back was static. The comms unit must have been damaged while he was fighting those Vandals. His helmet's audio feeds alerted him to the large number of enemy troops in the vicinity. The Awoken titan heard the shuffling gait of the Dregs, the more confident stride of the Vandals, and the heavy footsteps of their Captain. It seemed as if the Captain was making his way to his location. Hawkmoon was running out of time. If he was going to make good on his escape then he needed to do it soon. The Fallen had to have identified him by now. The Battle of Twilight Gap might have been three centuries ago but it was still a raw defeat of recent memory that had shamed the Council of Chiefs. It was rumored that several Kells were reduced to Dregs after such a humiliating loss. There would be no quick death for an Executioner who fought in that battle. Hawkmoon started assembling a wi-fi virus to disrupt both the grid and the manacles. He just hoped the rest of the fireteam was close by to extract him.
The Last City, Earth
Geordi 51-50 was coordinating surveillance on the Fallen Occupation Zone where Fireteam Obsidian was currently located. The robot was in the middle of adjusting both the visual zoom and filtering the audio traffic when a series of what appeared to be codes started flashing on the screens he was monitoring. Confused, Geordi 51-50 tried to identify the source but was blocked by a firewall the required Phalanx-S clearance. He retrieved the appropriate directories and was surprised that there was only one unit that currently was in possession of the Phalanx-S clearance: Fireteam Obsidian. Annoyed that this interruption was preventing him from being able to do any intelligence analysis, he paged Commander Zavala over the Tower's public address system. The Awoken commander responded a few seconds later.
"Zavala here. Any updates from Fireteam Obsidian?"
The robot swiveled his head in from side to side. "No sir. That is not the main purpose of my call. There seems to be a problem with the Tower network, specifically the Vanguard intranet. An unusual series of codes has appeared on my screens and has disrupted my work. I am contacting you to ask for guidance in this matter."
"Go ahead Geordi. Show me these mysterious codes please." Zavala prepared his Cortical Visual Interface to receive the screenshots of Geordi's workstation. If it was another technician playing a moo-moo-oink simulation or fuzzy viz-sex then his size 16 armored boot was going to launch the offender to the moon. Literally without oxygen.
The following alphanumeric strings flashed on the Titan commander's interface:
MFG-FHHYR-XRYGQ-MDTRY-HFCCZ …
FPX6P-TRCMM-HD2vt-QPJKV- YCFJZ …
PCFD9-6WVY7-H7JPF-X9MK2-QGQCZ …
Phalanx-S clearance recognized and accepted…
JORMUNGAND SYSTEM NOW ACTIVE… RECALL TO REALSPACE IN 60 SECONDS… POWER OUTPUT IS 100% AND CLIMBING… ALL SAFETY INTERLOCKS DISENGAGED… STRIKE PACKET UPLOADED… EXECUTING CODE: CENTIPEDE…
Commander Zavala stared in utter shock as he read the lines of code scrolling across his vision. Hawkmoon, Longstride, and Chak-Tii had done the impossible! They found one component of the Omega Arsenal. Something the Vanguard and the FOTC had been searching frantically for centuries on end. And of all the guardians to discover it, the 'Liege-Killers' did and were now unleashing it on the Fallen. Klaxon alarms sounded throughout the Tower as FOTC soldiers and technicians raced by the commander to their assigned duty stations. The Awoken titan snapped out of his indecision and began to bark orders using the Tower's city-wide communications network.
"This is Commander Zavala to all FOTC personnel. As of this moment we are now at DEFCON ONE. Protective Forces are to gather at staging areas Alpha through Delta. Shipwright, prepare all available Javelin STS and Guardian ready reserve jumpships for Strike mission. Security Forces are to report to their assigned districts within the City and enforce martial law for the duration of this Strike mission. Cayde-6 and Ikora Rey to the Hall of Guardians for mission briefing."
42,164km in orbit above the Earth
At the moment that Commander Zavala was issuing orders that activated the full might of the FOTC and readied them for the Strike mission, one hundred eight jump gates opened as 2km-long orbital weapons platforms entered realspace for the first time since The Collapse. They activated dormant systems and began receiving the strike packet that the warlock Malx'ian Chak-Tii had put together. Magnetic coils charged up. Directed Energy Weapon muzzles irised open and flared with deadly radiation. The maw of the JORMUNGAND system opened wide, ready to consume the Fallen with ravenous abandon. The namesake of the Midgard Serpent now surrounded the globe ready to unleash its lethal judgment upon the Earth's numerous foes. Down in the Fallen Occupation Zone, Mal'xian Chak-Tii received the confirmation that the JORMUNGAND system was now finally active. It was time to finally announce to their enemies that the 'The Liege-Killers', the Black Guardians had returned to the battlefield.
Harbor Point, Inside the Fallen Occupation Zone
Ar'rakyss the Unyielding and his entourage arrived in the basement and were about to enter the brig when one of his senior sensor techs ran up to him waving his puny two arms. It seemed as if all the Dregs under his command had a death wish this morning. The sensor tech took a moment to compose itself then made the usual apologies for interrupting the captain's routine.
My liege, there is a development that you should be aware of. Fifteen minutes ago, we detected a spike in energy readings in orbit but our scanners can't pick up any visual confirmation of these events. It is the crew's estimation that we ready ourselves for battle.
The captain leaned back his head then laughed with disbelief. Ready their forces for battle just because a single Dreg noticed energy spikes? Ridiculous! There was nothing to challenge their supremacy here. The Vex were content with their holdings on Venus. The Cabal would be a serious enemy but they limited their activity to Mars. Only the Hive gave them pause but so far they were dormant in the Hellmouth on the Moon. The humans and their allies didn't have any true spacefaring capability thanks to those fools being degraded close to pre-industrial levels. Only their so-called Guardians fought back against them but they were few in number. If the Guardians ever had enough numbers to field a true army then maybe he would be worried. Maybe. He turned his attention back to the Dreg. Ar'rakyss the Unyielding was about to administer a severe beating on his subordinate when the ground shook. A few seconds later the lights went out in the basement level.
A panicked voice came over his personal communicator: My lord we are under attack! A banner has been planted in the chest of your slain first officer. The Accursed Lords of the Final Death are here!"
400 km above the Fallen Occupation Zone, the ghost of Mal'xian Chak-Tii expertly piloted the jumpship Aurora Wake through the Fallen's orbital defenses and released a single EMP bomb that fried all communication and fire-control systems of the alien invaders. Nine whistled as he flew the jumpship, an old tune called 'Bad Romance' from an aristocrat by the name of Lady Gaga. He was surprised that humans had humor.
Once Nine released the EMP into Fallen airspace which crippled the aerospace defenses of the aliens, the JORMUNGAND system unleashed its full fury as multiple kinetic strikes and energy discharges rained down from orbit. On the ground Dregs and Vandals alike scrambled for cover as death screamed down from the heavens. Several of them were blown apart showering their comrades with fountains of blood or shards of bone. Scores of Shanks lay lifeless on the ground killed by the EMP dropped by the warlock's ghost. Burnt wreckage of heavy-weapons bunkers and obliterated hulks of Devil-Walkers were scattered throughout the swamplands. The Black Guardians had taken first blood.
Eight flew Sliver Longstride's jumpship Outrageous Fortune in the opposite direction firing both linear cannons and launching 10-kiloton neutron bombs into the enemy columns streaming forth to reinforce the Harbor Point compound. Fallen troops were ripped apart by explosive shells or flash-fried by enormous amounts of microwave radiation. The hunter's ghost made a second pass to do bomb-damage assessment then switched the jumpship's internal launcher to drop area-denial munitions to circle the compound preventing the enemy from assisting Ar'rakyss the Unyielding. Once its mission was done, Eight jumped the Outrageous Fortune into orbit and rendezvoused with Nine in the Aurora Wake. Both ghosts were instructed to keep the jumpships parked in orbit until their guardians summoned them.
Mal'xian Chak-Tii threw a Nova Bomb that exploded among the charging Vandals who wanted revenge for their slain leader. A fractal blade sprung forth from his K'am-ock staff which he swung in a semi-circle in front of him that disemboweled the closest attackers. He pulled his Regulator hand-cannon and blasted the next three with 13mm spinmetal rounds that cratered the chests of the next wave of attackers. The warlock retracted the fractal blade back into the staff, flipped ends, and activated the built-in blaster that vaporized the final wave into so much ash. He raised the staff over his head and shouted a challenge to the howling Fallen warriors surrounding him.
"Come vermin", hissed the warlock as his Pallid Mask morphed into a more fearsome visage, "and learn firsthand why your ancestors call me The Shatterer of Hordes. I will offer up your souls to Hastur, the Feaster from Afar, and I will burn your worlds then erase your people from the annals of history. Come and be devoured!" The warlock's K'am-ock staff glowed menacingly with Void energy as a large group of Dregs and Vandals rushed towards the Black Guardian. Maniacal laughter was heard as Mal'xian Chak-Tii released a shockwave that knocked the aliens backwards.
The warlock leaped into the air then threw a Scatter Bomb that tore apart the enemy at a molecular level. Their bodies were vaporized in an instant as wisps of their soul energy were sucked into his armor, the Royal Robes of Hastur. The titanium-yellow and scarlet striped longcoat of the warlock seemed to wail with each soul taken from the air. Chak-Tii blinked out then reappeared to thrust his staff's fractal blade through the back of a Vandal. The warlock triggered a purple-hued blast of Void energy that killed a second Vandal who tried to take his head with a sword. He slashed a third Vandal with the staff's fractal blade. As he continued to slash and blast his way to the Harbor Point skyscraper, the warlock wondered how Longstride was doing.
At that moment, Sliver Longstride squeezed off a shot that took out a Vandal that seemed to be giving orders to a group of Dregs trying to fix an anti-air emplacement. His second shot hit the emplacement's ammo dump that exploded and took out the rest of the Fallen gun crew. The hunter was about to take another shot when he felt the air vibrate. He instinctively rolled to his left as a Stealth Vandal materialized and slashed down with a massive sword. The Vandal's blade cleaved his Gozen-C sniper rifle in two. Sliver took the jagged end of his rifle's barrel and rammed it through the torso of his assailant. The alien looked on his impaled body in disbelief as Sliver took up his tomahawk then decapitated the Vandal with its razor-sharp blade. The rifle was now so much scrap. He sent a signal to Eight who beamed in an Acheron SR5 via transmat. The SR5 was an effective alternative for a hunter who's lost their sniper rifle. Great rate of fire, excellent optics, and able to completely synch with a guardian's CVI wet-ware. The veteran hunter quickly synthesized ammo for his new rifle and made ready to move out.
Minutes later, the hunter slowly approached the outer perimeter of Harbor Point. The Acheron SR5 was held in front of him muzzle down as he closed in on Keisari dux Hawkmoon's personal transponder signal. Sliver hoped that his friend and fellow team-mate was in a rational state otherwise this extraction was going to be really complicated. He felt the change in the wind again but relaxed when he saw Mal'xian Chak-Tii blink into existence behind him. The hunter ignored the fact that his comrade's armor seemed to be alive with a strange crimson glow. There were some things he was better off being ignorant about.
"What happened, Chak-Tii? Forgot something was boiling in the cauldron? Beat you here by several minutes."
"Mock all you want Longstride. By my estimates we have destroyed at least 80% of the Fallen's garrison here in Old Chicago. According to JORMUNGAND's surveillance apps, the Vanguard is leading a Strike mission with all available FOTC units here to solidify the gains we have made here in the Midwest sector of North America. And I do believe when we get back to the Tower you owe me a drink in The Bastards Lounge since you are not on fire or glowing radioactive."
"At least not yet. Look alive, warlock. There's part of the 20% we missed taking out."
Outside the ground floor of the Harbor Point skyscraper, there were several dozen Dregs and Vandals that surrounded the main entrance. The Dregs were armed with shock-pistols and vibro-knives. The Vandals carried shock-rifles and large energy swords. They seemed to be focused on the entrance and weren't aware of the guardians behind them. Both the hunter and the warlock blended with the foliage as their CVIs activated the cloaking features of their armor. They crept closer to the enemy as the members of Fireteam Obsidian wondered silently at why the Fallen were so preoccupied. They didn't have to wait long for the answer.
A familiar black-armored titan crashed through the front entrance with a Fallen captain in tow. He threw a right hook that snapped the alien's head back. Hawkmoon followed that up with a short, left jab that splintered Ar'rakys the Unyielding's helmet. The Awoken titan swept the Fallen leader off his feet then stomped on his opponent's torso. Once. Twice. Three times the armored boot smashed down on the captain's ribs which broke under the furious assault. A Vandal tried to come to the captain's aid but was savagely backhanded by the guardian. The snapping of the Vandal's neck as his corpse dropped to the ground shocked his fellow warriors. The gathered Fallen then immediately rushed in to attack the lone guardian. Weapons charged up and blades were unsheathed as the Fallen charged into what they thought would be an easy victory.
Sliver Longstride blew the head off of the first Vandal that took a step towards Hawkmoon. Wisps of white-hot energy were released that were captured by the eerily glowing armor of the warlock Chak-Tii. The hunter squeezed off several shots that dropped the enemy in their tracks. Longstride pulled a pre-programmed swarm grenade, primed it, and tossed it towards a group of Vandals desperately trying to rally the Dregs. The grenade exploded which released a smart cloud of nano-bots that began disassembling the enemy atom by atom. Several tried to escape only to disappear.
The panic it caused was infectious as the Fallen saw that they weren't confronting just a single guardian but a full fireteam. What was once a coordinated assault now was degenerating into free-for-all street-fight. Cha-Tii took up his K'am-ock staff, twisted the middle, and swung it in a circle as fractal blades popped out at both ends. Heads of both Dregs and Vandals were cleanly lopped off as the warlock waded into the enemy. Sliver switched from using the scout rifle to his knife and tomahawk as he slashed his way towards Hawkmoon. Their titan continued his brutal offensive by breaking Vandals in half over his knee and smashing Dregs' heads into walls. A mound of corpses was growing around them as the battle raged on.
Warning lights flashed and alarms sounded as Longstride's shield was degraded to 50%. The hunter used his CVI and the helmet's sensor suite to 'boomerang' the shots back to where the Vandal snipers were hidden. The hunter swung up his Acheron SR5 to his shoulder and snap-fired two shots towards his attackers. The 7.62x67mm iridium-cored rounds went supersonic as they were propelled by the SR5's kinetic coils. The first bullet smashed through the Vandal's helmet spraying blood and brain matter in the air. The second tore out the other Vandal's throat dropping the alien sniper onto his knees. Both slumped to the ground slain by a veteran hunter in a very efficient manner.
Hawkmoon dropped a Dreg with a punch to the throat, took a vibro-knife from the dead alien, and buried it into a Vandal's groin hilt-deep. He broke the screeching Vandal's neck. Another Vandal slashed at the titan with a sword that he easily ducked. Hawkmoon got inside the alien's guard then elbowed him in the face. The black-armored titan broke the Fallen's wrist then thrust the sword through the enemy's chest. Slimy gore and blood dripped off Hawkmoon's battered armor. He picked up an enemy shock rifle looking for more Fallen to kill.
Chak-Tii retracted the fractal blades back into his K'am-ock staff and surveyed the carnage that Fireteam Obsidian had wrought on the Fallen House of the Celestial Tyrant. Over a hundred thousand Fallen corpses lay in the sun adding their bio-material to the surrounding swamplands. The burning wreckage of buildings and bunkers could be seen for kilometers around. The motion-tracker in his helmet pinged the IFF transponders of the approaching Javelin STS transports and other guardians beaming down nearby. As usual, Fireteam Obsidian did all the heavy lifting and now the Vanguard and the rest of the FOTC was swooping in at the tail end of an operation. In three centuries, nothing has really changed. Little did the Last City know things were now very different. The 'Liege-Killers' now had the leverage to change humanity's destiny.
The warlock stepped towards his team-mates in Harbor Point's plaza. Sliver Longstride was cleaning the SR5 and would be later stringing a new necklace of alien trophies of his prey. Keisari dux Hawkmoon was directing a group of guardians and FOTC soldiers in securing the beaten Ar'rakyss the Unyielding by strapping the Fallen captain into a shock harness and manacles. He saw both Commander Zavala and Cayde-6 assessing the damage wrought by the infamous Black Guardians. Their report to both The Speaker and the Consensus would weigh heavily in being allowed to stay in The Last City. No matter what they were finally going home. The Moon and the Hive could wait for another day.
TO BE CONTINUED