(Emerges sheepishly)

Well, hello everyone. I know I said I'd try to have this chapter up soon, but fate has been against me, it seems. First, last semister, right before thanksgiving, I made a near failing grade on a major paper because of a technical mishap, which sent me scrambling to recover... followed the very next day by a major hard drive crash that took most of the chapter with it, along with my notes for that semiester, and a whole host of other things such as studying for the GRE and taking and preping for the LSAT.

You will be happy to note, however, that every thing's getting back on track, and the next chapter is already three quarters of the way done.

Thanks again to animedragongirl for her amazing beta reading skills, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I must express regret that Hotmail once again ate my bloody mail, so if you had a question you wanted answered, let me know and I'll do my best to answer it.

prays new chapter is not a piece of crap

Dogs of War

"Incoming!"

Kliever ducked his head and swore loudly. Seconds later the ground around him shook and rumbled as an explosive charge went off. Growling, he leaned out from behind the steel and stone barricade that he was taking cover behind, lined up his assault rifle, and let off a four round burst. He had good aim, and a Grunt was dropped and its chest was ripped open by the high velocity rounds. Still, there were thousands more ready to replace it. The Quartermaster grimaced as he watched a group of Crab Heads emerge and unleash their twin blasters upon another pocket of resistance. The Dark Eco weapons cut through the cover that the other Wastelanders were using and seconds later, were unloading on the men and women themselves. Even over the roar and chaos he could hear their screams.

A few of the four-legged creatures turned their attention towards him next. He barely managed to get down before they had lined up his position. Fist sized chunks of metal were blasted away by the weapons fire. Knowing that exposing himself now would mean death, Kliever fired blindly in where he thought they were shooting from. He heard a few growls of irritation, nothing more beyond that.

"Market area here," he shouted into a walkie-talkie. "We're about to get rolled, any available reinforcements would be useful."

He could barely hear the sound of a reply through the static and the white noise. All the weapons fire in the air, all that energy, it was playing hell with the comms. He did get his answer though. There was a loud crackling noise, which reminded him of the thunderclaps he would hear during a rare desert rainstorm--a ball of white-hot lightning shot by him, and then exploded. He heard screams of pain, and a drifting breeze brought the stench of burnt flesh to him. There were a few weak bursts of weapons fire, but when it suddenly stopped, he assumed it must have been the result of the death throes.

"You can stick your head back up now, chili-pepper, but I wouldn't recommend keeping it up for long." He heard Sig's deep voice chuckle over the radio.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Kliever growled into the comm. unit.

"More than you already have," Sig laughed as he fired off another Peacemaker round.

The Quartermaster just sighed and reloaded his rifle. The Metal Heads were an unending stream, as always. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about this attack. The Grunts and Drones were charging their lines with almost fanatical devotion, refusing to break and run, even when their commanders were gunned down and lying in pools of their own lifeblood.

He noticed a formation of Centurions advancing off to his eastern flank. They had interlocked their shields presenting him with a difficult target it hit. He lined up the sights on his rifle, and took aim. He managed to get one glancing hit in on the hand sized space he had to work with—not bad, considering that they were more than a hundred meters off. Still they kept coming, only now they were turning their fire towards him. He grumbled. Sig needed to conserve the ammunition for his weapon, and they were well outside the range of any kind of hand grenade he had.

He heard a double shockwave and watched as one of the Centurions seemed to suddenly fly apart. Now with a larger hole in their lines, Kliever sighted them up once again. He smiled grimly as he put a four round burst into one of the creatures. It howled and keeled over, twitching and spasming, its dark blood dripping all over the ground.

"That's two you owe me," Seth said through the radio.

"Suppose you're right," the quartermaster kept firing, trying to keep them from getting back in formation. It didn't work. They were more disciplined than he'd ever seen them before.

"Wait till they get closer then try to use a grenade, I've got to save ammo for commanders." Seth's rifle gave off another double shockwave, and a line of Metal Head soldiers splattered as the hypersonic round tore into them and kept on going.

"What bore are you using?" Kliever could not believe the destruction that he was witnessing.

"The twenty five, with penetrator rounds, and a few high explosives just in case," Seth yelled back. "Figured I might as well go for broke."

Kliever would have sputtered if he'd had any moisture in his mouth to do it with. Twenty-five millimeters, Seth was firing off bullets nearly as big around as his fist! Those were normally reserved for Marauder vehicles. Still, he could see the advantage to using them against massed infantry.

Still, even though a normal attack force would have broken and run before the fury of the coordinated defenses that the Wastelanders were putting up, the Metal heads kept pressing forward. Such fanaticism had to mean something, but what?

Then he saw it. Faintly, at the far edge of a bluff, but quickly approaching-- an airship of some kind, but like nothing he had ever seen before. It was smooth, sleek, and very quiet, and he could see weapons turrets sticking off of the hull. The hairs on the back of the elf's neck stuck up, an old instinctive warning from eons long past. There was something… alien about that craft, a feeling that coursed through him that it was not of this world.

It came in at high speed, before pulling up to a hover so quickly that it confirmed Kliever's suspicion of being otherworldly. No vehicle, Wastelander, Freedom League, or otherwise, could have made that stop, not like that. The sheer force of inertia and momentum would have ripped it apart.

Then it started firing.

Samos closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Around him, the Spargus monks hurriedly prepared defenses and barricades. Weapons were passed out, and every one tried to prepare themselves for the inevitable. The Wastelanders were brave and hardened fighters, but as always, the metal Heads had sheer numbers at their side. This was not going at all like he'd expected. Why had Onin told him to come out here? What was it that the old seer had expected him to find? Death, destruction? Was it his time to die?

Or was there something more? He had heard the radio chatter. There was something strange about the attacks, the metal Heads refused to break, no matter how hard they were repulsed. He had studied the creatures all of his life. While they were usually tenacious and utterly implacable, he had never heard of them throwing themselves into a meat grinder like they were now. There had to be something here, something that they wanted.

He looked over to Seem. The girl was meditating, calmly breathing in and out. Motes of Eco would occasionally spark and dance around her, betraying her heritage. The old Sage's eyes narrowed, and he walked over to her. Next to her, a trio of monks erected a metal barricade, between those and the rooms many columns, they hoped to provide themselves with enough cover to at least make a dent in the enemy's numbers.

Give them a black eye before being completely overrun.

"What is it you want, Sage?" Seem cracked an eye open, but her breathing remained tranquil and even regardless.

"Why are they attacking like this?" he looked her dead in the eye, giving her the glare that had made so many wither before it. "Don't even try to give me the run-around, girl. The Metal Heads are ferocious, but they've never charged like mad beasts before. You have something they want. What is it?"

Seem remained silent for a few, pensive moments, and then she rose up. "Follow me," she said.

Samos fell in step behind her, stumbling for a moment as a massive rumble shook the building. He looked back towards the entrance and then to Seem. The girl was remarkably calm. "They are coming," was all that she told him.

She reached a series of stairs that led down into the heart of the building. Samos didn't know where they were going, but he suspected after a few moments that they had to be close to the heart of the mountain upon which Spargus was built. Eventually, the staircase came to an end and he saw two things sitting before him. The first was a large container, sealed against the elements, about the size of his head. The second was a cylindrical device that was nearly half his size. There was a control panel on it, but he couldn't read the characters on the buttons.

"What are these?"

"Precursor technologies," Seem said, her voice quiet. She slowly looked over at the elderly Sage. "My people found them months ago in the desert—in a series of Precursor ruins, shortly before the first of the Fallen probes started to return. The container has a number of crystals in it—"

"Eco?" he asked, scratching at his beard. It didn't make much sense for the Metal heads to attack over a handful of those. They were rare and powerful, but there were easier ways to obtain them.

"No, we believe that they are data caches or some kind of computer memory matrix. The other is some kind of weapon. We were hoping to study them and learn their secrets, perhaps use them against our enemies." Seem hung her head, and closed her eyes. "It would seem, though, that we are too late. They have discovered these, and they will slaughter us all to get them."

Screams started to filter through the radio that Seem had on herself.

"Ship approaching, unknown class—" static and white noise drowned out the rest of the statement. More voices replaced it.

"It's killing everything!"

"Fall back, fall back!"

"What the hell is that thing?"

Then came a voice that both recognized: Sig's.

"It's dropping something out of the bottom…" his voice trailed off. Seem's attention was focused solely upon that, Samos could tell. She wasn't blinking, she wasn't breathing, moving, just standing there, still as a statue.

"Go help them," Samos growled, yanking the radio out of her hand and startling her out of her daze. She gave him a look. "Go! I'll protect these artifacts."

Seem's legs took control before her mind could reason out what she was being told. She dashed off, desperate to aid her brother. Samos frowned and tapped his staff into the stone floor. It was times like this that he wished that he had more offensively oriented powers. He still had some powers though, and any Metal Heads that came down here would be in for a rude surprise.

The ship kept firing, sending Wastelanders scrambling about. Whole sections of the city were reduced to molten rock and vaporized metal, the elves inside along with them. Sig could hear the roar of the Metal Heads behind them, and knew that whatever this ship was, it belonged to them. He found what passed for decent cover in a small cave bored into the side of the mountain, and prepped his Peacemaker. Hopefully, the thing would just try to open up the gate for the ground pounders, and after that, it would move on.

Amid the chaos that the battlefield the large elf saw a light come from the ship. He stared at the blue white light that came from inside, captivated by it. Then he realized that something was descending. It was difficult for him to make it out so he pulled out his binoculars.

"It's dropping something out of the bottom," he said as he brought them to his eyes.

The thing that came out was large, larger than any elf he'd ever seen. It was covered in heavy gold armor plating, rounded and smooth. A black visor covered its face, and in its right hand it held a large spear-like weapon.

"Holy gods," Sig breathed as he recognized the figure.

The Precursor bolted forward, angling off away from the drop ship. Motes and blobs of yellow energy formed and pulsed around it. Sig raised his weapon to fire, recognizing an Eco charge up. Other Wastelanders beat him to the punch, and tracer rounds filled the air. With agility far beyond anything he'd seen before, save Valthos or Jak, perhaps, the soldier twisted and turned, evading fire. A few rounds connected, but they bounced harmlessly off of the armor plates.

Then the Precursor retaliated. Spearheads of light flashed away from it, heading in a dozen different directions. The first shots connected with buildings along the upper ridge of the volcano. The structures, built of stone and metal that had weathered Metal Head attacks, Marauder raids, and sand storms that would flay the flesh from living creatures imploded as if hit by a laser guided bomb. The other bolts continued along, guided by some unseen hand, hitting pockets of Wastelander resistance. The gunfire from those locations was silenced in an instant.

Horror like he never knew it welled up inside of him. Sig had seen Jak in action so many times, he knew what it was like to pit an ordinary group of soldiers against a Channeler—a massacre at best usually—and now here was that kind of nightmare turned against them.

The gunship up above kept firing down on the defensive fortifications, turning metal and stone aline into molten slag with the power of its weapons. The light came again, and the burly Wastelander realized that more of the soldiers were dropping out of the ship's belly. Two, three, a dozen, a score… he lost track after thirty.

The metal heads let out another collective roar and suddenly surged forward, rushing the shattered remnants of the Wastelander defensive line.

"Kliever, Seth, get everyone the hell out of here!" he shouted into the radio.

"Already complying, big guy," Seth replied back. "Most of the troops have taken shelter in the caves. Hopefully they won't try to bomb us back to the Stone Age and seal us all in here."

"And you are?" He trailed off.

"Hold still, golden boy, you're mine," Sig heard his friend whisper.

The gold armored Precursor suddenly lurched in midair and went spinning as two explosions lit it up. Dead on shots by high explosive, anti-material rounds from Seth's rifle. The rounds were designed to tear right through the armored hull of Marauder heavy vehicles, and then detonate inside. The bullets should have ripped the Precursor to pieces. The Ancient, though, righted itself after less than a second, and fired off a trio of yellow Eco pulses towards where Seth was hiding. Its armor was barely scratched.

"Gods!" Sig focused his cybernetic eye in on where the lanky Wastelander was, and saw him running, his rifle slung over his back.

The place where he had fired ceased to exist half a second later, reduced to a glass crater. Another barrage followed just as he saw Seth duck into the escape tunnel. Within moments, the concussive force of the Eco blasts had sealed it off.

"Seth, you still alive?" Sig whispered, staring up at the Fallen Precursor with a sense of awe.

"A little cooked, but otherwise I'm fine," He replied. "By all that's holy…"

"I know, they're tough bastards, apparently." Sig leaned out just a tad, just enough to get a good view of what was going on. The additional Precursor forces had joined up with the Metal Heads that were assaulting the city, and Wastelander defenses were crumbling before them.

A glowing rock the size of a man's body went sailing through the air before it exploded with the force of a half-ton bomb. One of the smaller, blue warriors with a double bladed staff penetrated a defensive trench. Men and women were cast aside like rag dolls by some unseen force. Their bodies hit stone and slid broken to the ground, whereas others were impaled upon metal construction frames that the attack had ripped apart. Still others were sliced to pieces by its melee weapon, which moved so fast that Sig couldn't even keep track of it. His mechanical eye focused on a warrior as it threw its stave. It whirled through the air like a buzz saw, cutting off one man's arm as he tried to dive out of the way. Another didn't move fast enough, and was cut clean in half. At the same time, the Precursor turned and leapt a full ten meters through the air, landing in front of a Wastelander who had been sighting him up. Sig saw the warrior take two rounds of rifle fire to the gut, but the slugs did not even scuff the surface. The other elf opened his mouth to scream in terror, but was suddenly silenced by the Precursor landing a mighty punch to his middle. Sig swore he could hear the crack of the Wastelander's ribcage as it shattered before the force of the blow. The armored fist kept going, piercing skin, flesh, sinew, bone, and finally emerging out of the other side of the man's chest.

All of it happened in about half a second. How could something that big move that fast? Sig shuddered for one of the few times in his life. Then he noticed something. The drop ship that had deposited all the enemy soldiers was slowing down, and from where he was, looked like it was heading for the Monastery.

"Seem!" he scarcely dared to breathe.

No, he had already lost too much in this attack; he would not lose his sister, too. He bolted from his hole, moving as fast and stealthily as he could, trying to do everything in his power to stay out of sight of the enemy forces.

Kerrog leapt to the side to dodge the aim of the Wastelander that was shooting at him. The high velocity rounds made a loud popping noise as they sped by him. He was pretty certain they posed no threat to him, but it would be foolish to underestimate an enemy like this. If there was one thing the Hora-quan had told him since his arrival, it was that elves were resourceful, clever little devils. His own observations regarding operations in Haven further reinforced those reports.

He fired off a burst of White Eco in the direction of the man. The high-powered energy bolt vaporized him in an instant, leaving nothing but ash and superheated stone where his foe had once been. He raised a shield in front of himself a moment later as the screech of a rocket-propelled grenade reached his ears. The world around him flashed and roared a second later. As the shield lowered he blitzed forward, sending out energy blasts and took out a full half dozen individuals at a go. He closed on the elf that had fired at him, and with a flick of his wrist, his blade was out. The Wastelander saw the attack coming and reached for an axe that he had on his back. His movements appeared slow, though, sluggish to the Precursor, as if he was moving through mud. The weapon hadn't even cleared its holster when Kerrog swung, cleaving the man in half from collarbone to hip.

Blood gushed everywhere as he turned, sighted up another grouped of elves, and let fly at them. The ball of Light Eco exploded spectacularly and consumed a Wastelander fire team.

"Exalted one, we are encountering stiff resistance over by their motor pool," A Hora-quan commander growled to him over their communications line.

"Kaliek, bring the gunship in, I want those vehicles reduced to slag, along with any who defend them." Kerrog flipped back out of the way of another barrage of bullets, zipping behind the cover of a building and switching through the sensor suite of his helmet. He located the source of the gunfire, a third story building that was occupied by a Wastelander fire team. Submachine guns, assault rifles, and shotguns were all firing out into the ranks of his troops, who were more than willing to return the favor.

The Archon felt deep within himself, the familiar tingle that pulsed and wove its way through his body as he summoned up his power. The Light Echo flashed down to his hand and formed itself into a pulsing orb. He roared, ducked out from behind his cover for a moment, and released the attack. It formed an energy beam that streaked towards its target and blasted into it. The Fallen Precursor gave a flick of his wrist, and sent the energy lashing across the entire structure. The top of the building collapsed downward as the floor he'd hit disintegrated before the onslaught of his attack.

He could sense a slow, rising panic in the elves that were here. They were not broken by fear, or routing—not that they'd have anywhere to run—but he could see a slight increase in desperation as his forces pressed slowly inward. They fired their weapons in longer bursts, and were starting to get less choosy with their targets. A Zealot, Carion, charged past where he stood, unleashing gouts of living flame upon the defenders. Bullets rained in around him and while some hit him, many missed. Their rising dread was causing a noticeable decrease in their accuracy.

The gunship made a pass overhead, and the gravity lift opened up. Kerrog nodded his head as he dropped the final member of the assault team down.

Errol landed, his blade already out, and immediately sprinted towards the heaviest bit of resistance he could find. The Ascended Channeler unleashed a torrent of Dark Eco upon the inhabited building, and even from where he was, Kerrog could hear the screams of the defenders as the substance ate them alive.

Errol laughed over the comm. channel, before more Dark Eco attacks went flying. The elf was quickly moving about on a rampage, heading for the target building. There was a dug in group of Wastelanders trying to defend it, hiding up amongst the cliffs and in a few dug in trenches. Unlike the ones before, these ones showed no panic, no rising desperation. Calm, cool, in control. Perhaps some kind of elite warrior force? Kerrog thought to himself. The painted faces and strange uniforms would lend themselves to such a theory.

Errol tore through them like a blade. His armored form blurred through their ranks, evading fields of fire, slaughtering them at will with his powers. The screams were horrific for him to hear, and the Precursor winced slightly. Still, it would be over soon, people didn't live long after exposure to Dark Eco. Their suffering would be brief.

The doors suddenly burst open, and a new force of the Wastelander soldiers poured out. They were abandoning their defenses, coming out into the open, simply because they could not bear to hear the screams of their comrades. Admirable, noble, but ultimately foolhardy.

Errol simply blitzed past them. There was no need to engage. What they were after was below. Kerrog prepared himself. He would handle these defenders.

"Kaliek, bring the gunship around and assault their northern flanks, I want us to close this up ASAP," He ordered as he lifted up into the air and charged towards the enemy.

The Wastelanders spotted him immediately, and they opened fire. Kerrog retaliated with a pair of Light Eco orbs that detonated among their ranks. At the edges of the blast, body parts went flying while from the center nothing was left of the men who had been there but ash slowly drifting down from the sky. Half a second later, he had closed to melee range. The Archon made sure to prioritize his targets, starting with the ones who had shotguns, and moving up from there. The first man he sliced in half across the waist with his cryosis blade. The mono-edged weapon parted armor, flesh, and bone as if it wasn't even there, sending blood splattering all over his pristine white armor.

He felt a smattering of impacts across his side, and grunted slightly as the armor piercing rounds hit him. Twisting, the Archon fired off another Eco attack that swiftly silenced his opposition. A vaulting leap put him near the next group, a trio of elves that were protecting the left flank of the structure. He impaled the first one, his blade diving in-between the third and fourth ribs, piercing the Wastelander's heart and ending his life almost instantly. Kerrog then twisted, bringing his triple jointed leg up and smashing it into the face of the second. Bones snapped and shattered before the force of the blow and the woman crumpled to the ground. The third, still trying to orient his weapon on the fast moving target, found the first victim's body thrown into him. He went down with a grunt, easy prey for the killing machine that hovered above him. Kerrog stabbed his blade home. The elf twitched and spasmed for a few seconds, and then ceased twitching.

The battlefield around him was silent for a brief moment, and then he heard a high pitched whine right before something slammed into him like a super heated sledgehammer. Kerrog growled in surprise as he was smashed through one of the stone pillars of the building. Grumbling, he rose up, and shook his head to get his dreadlocks out of his face. There was a small elf in front of him, female by his guess. Yellow Eco crackled over her hands and there was a look of absolute hate in her eyes. A Channeler. A descendant of the hybrid soldiers that their estranged brothers had created. She would be a formidable opponent, but there was something missing.

She was unarmed aside from a rifle, which Kerrog knew would be little threat to him. He looked around, and saw that one of the warriors he'd just slain had a well forged long sword still sheathed. He moved up bent down, and drew it out. Then he tossed it towards her. It landed two feet in front of her, sinking into the stone and sand.

Seem stood in shock, though she did not dare to take her eyes of her fearsome adversary. He was giving her a weapon. The white armored warrior nodded towards the blade, and then took a step back, his weapon angled behind him. Slowly, Seem stepped forward and took the blade up. It was awkward to hold in her hands; she'd never had much skill with them before. Perhaps if she used it to channel her Eco down, it might serve a purpose? She took a breath, and prepared herself.

The Precursor blurred forward, and the monk tried to think of what would be his most likely strike. However, it was not to come to pass.

A screech reached both of their ears, and Seem turned to see another ship come streaking in. From its bottom a black blur emerged and came straight at her foe like some kind of armored missile. The Precursor barely had time to get his sword up before the other one smashed into him. The two weapons grated harshly against one another, sending sparks flying as they heaved back and forth. Dark and Light Eco pulsed and crackled around them, and the crimson eyes of the black one flared to where Seem could see them behind the visor.

"Brother… I was wondering when you might join the battle." The white one said. He seemed to focus for a second. "By the gods… what did Xadec do to you?"

The dark one remained silent, instead shifting his weight to the right and sliding his foe's blade out of the way. This was followed up by a kick that sent him clean through the wall of the Monastery.

"I have been reforged, Kerrog, so that I could fight against the abominations that your comrades created." He floated up in the air, and waited for the other to rise. He did so soon enough.

"At the expense of your very soul, Tarath? Where does the machine end and the Precursor begin?" Kerrog shook himself to clear some of the rubble from his armor.

"A warrior's life is sacrifice, Kerrog," said the dark one as he landed slightly, his legs spread. "I do not enjoy my new state of being, but it is a price I must pay for my failures."

Kerrog leapt up and dashed in, both of their weapons met in a dazzling series of blurred slashes, parries, thrusts, kicks, and punches. Neither seemed able to breach the other's defenses, though. Seem realized these two were equals, yet opposites of one another.

"Failures?" Kerrog grunted as he moved back and forth. "What failures could you possibly have to atone for? What could you have possibly done that has damned you to your state of death in life?" Seem could feel the poison building in the words. "What foul lies did the Executor feed you to make you believe that you have ever done anything worthy of the fate you have?"

Tarath remained silent but instead charged up a series of Dark Eco attacks and sent them towards his foe at point blank range.

Kerrog's rage had clouded his foresight; he never saw it coming. The Fallen Archon screamed in agony as bolts of dark lightning coursed over his armor, cracking, melting, and blasting portions of it off. A ray of pure whiteness followed. Tarath managed to dodge it and an instant later, it carved out a small tunnel in the rocky cliffs that made up the city.

Seem understood. The white armored one was hurt, but far from finished.

Suddenly there was a new blur, though, black and green. Seem instinctively leapt backwards as she recognized the dark figure that had penetrated their defenses only a minute earlier. Except now he held two things: the first was the data crystal cache that Samos had been protecting, and the second was Samos himself. The old Sage was unconscious and looked significantly worse for the wear.

"I've got what we came for, let's get out of here!" the… thing, for it wasn't a Precursor at all. shouted.

Kerrog broke off from his brother and instant later as both of them dashed away. Tarath moved to follow, but the gunship suddenly came in and blasted away at his position. Cursing, the Reaver bolted, taking the time to scoop up Seem before the ground around them was turned into a glass wasteland.

Then the ship fled, rushing back over the battle to pick up the Precursors that were still alive. The Metal heads also began to pull back, Crab Heads and Centurions laying down cover fire as the rest of them retreated.

"Praetor, shall we pursue?" one of Tarath's subordinates radioed in.

"Negative, there are too many of them. They could be expecting it and trying to lure us into a trap." Tarath looked around and saw Jak and Keira standing in the thick of things. Dozens of corpses, hacked down or blasted apart, lay before them, and the ground near their feet was bathed in blood. A handful of armored corpses were in amongst the Metal Head ranks, but casualties from both Precursor forces had been fairly light.

Tarath landed and set Seem down. The young Channeler immediately walked towards the two Ascended ones.

"We have a problem, a big one." She said simply to them.

"What is it?" Keira asked, while she wiped some Hora-quan ichor off of her blade.

"They retreated because they got what they came for," Jak interjected, raising a finger. "Whatever it was, it wasn't good for us."

"They came for a data chance we discovered some time back… and the one who attack us made off with your father." Seem looked down at the ground. "I don't know who or what it was. A Channeler of some sort, I presume, but not a Precursor. I'm sorry."

Masaume hit the ground butt first, and Keira's fist visibly tightened around it. A few pulses of Eco flashed around her. "Errol." The word came out like it was a poison, and everyone backed away from her, even Jak.

"Describe the data cache," Tarath said, breaking the nervous silence created by Keira's rage. "Where did you get it, what was on it?"

"Some ruins about forty miles north of here," Seem responded. "We had not yet been able to decipher them, as they appeared to be somewhat corrupted by time."

Tarath fell into deep thought while Keira began to clutch at her weapon even harder than before. Her husband tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shrug him off, but she didn't calm down either.

"Those are probably data entries on how to perform a terraforming operation," Tarath spoke after a moment or two. "We need to figure out how to retrieve those, but it won't be easy. Not with the Day Star being a heavily armed as it is now."

"We have something else that might be able to help." Someone new said.

Everyone turned to see Valthos emerging from the carnage. Several empty rifles and weapons hung from his body, and his gunblade was covered in blood. "The team also discovered what we think is some kind of bomb."

Tarath's eyes glowed for a moment. "Show me."

&

Well, hopefully that wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be. I'll try to keep this short, as I'm a little tired, and I think I'm coming down with something on account of the fact that my dorm keeps the rooms at a comfortable 35 degrees fahrenhiet.

As always, feed back is appreciated, as well as constructive criticism, as I need to improve, desperately. Ideas and suggestions, or things that you'd like to see are welcomed as always. I'll leave you guys with that, and hope that you all have a great week.