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Chapter Three:

Cold Snap

Sorkolis could hear the shuffle in the vent ducts even from the floor below. Gyrating to further study the iron hull of the structure, he drew his Shrapnel Launcher from around his shoulder and aimed it imposingly at the small fissure in the side of the tunnel.

Across the room, Rikantor had been watching, her eyes narrowed, and she tapped her fingers against the golden arms of her Throne. She drew her bottom half of arms together as she signaled for answers. "Well?"

The Archon pulled back his weapon and reaffirmed it to his belt, before studying the map below him again. "I just heard… something." Sorkolis shot one last glance behind his shoulder before he returned his previous gesture back on the Kell sitting a few meters ahead of him. "Anyway, this strike is absolutely necessary for the Kings' survival in the Cosmodrome. The Devils should be eradicated!"

"And they will be," the Kell offered as she flexed the fingers on her higher right arms. "I just need to rally what remains of the fleet – any Walkers, Scorch Captains, you, of course…" Rikantor fumbled with her golden cape, sliding the silky linen from between the seizure of her fingers. "Any other suggestions? We'll strike in two sunrises."

Sorkolis looked down at the map, metal fingers entwined together as he observed the written materials on it. Then he offered briskly, "Do not risk all of your fighting warriors on this battle. That is unwise."

Rikantor snorted and bared her teeth, clenching them in a tight hold. "I will let in however I think will do the best for the King Banner. But earlier on the border yesterday, Drevis did pose a threat. Maybe not to you, but there are Fallen who will likely go on patrols that can be burdened by her presence."

"Exactly what I was set off to inform you about yesterday, my liege." The Archon folded both pairs of arms together. "I will grab the Baron and Vulgantor, and we'll see the border scouts for more intel on this investigation. Maybe they'll know something about Drevis and what she is doing at the foot of our territory."

The Kell bared her teeth darkly, a muscle in her cheek feathering slightly as she studied her Archon. "Of course. But you'll be here for the meantime ensuring my survival, first." Rikantor held up one of her svelte fingers.

Sorkolis pulled his gaze away from the intimidating stance of the doorway behind him to peer closely at the Kell. "Why? There's nothing here that could trouble you. And the Guard are always here to help out if you need anything. What for the sudden worry, my liege?" The Archon looked about for any sign of invasion.

"I just picked up a transmission from one of the Kell's Guard – there are several dead carcasses seen in the Infirmary, and the thermal emitters are going haywire." Rikantor studied the door. "You already know what invitation that is."

Growling, the Archon unlatched the Shrapnel Launcher from his belt and curled his teeth up in a defiant snarl. "Devils?" he growled.

Shaking her head, the Kell snorted, "Not very likely. A plan to infiltrate the base of another House with a few mere warriors is not something their Kell would do, if I know him correctly. And unwise, not to add. So the chances of it being other Fallen aren't high, which is subject to one last thing – Guardians."

Pulling his teeth back in a snarl, Sorkolis tightened his seizure over the gun he was wielding, so fiercely his knuckles turned a pale shade of brownish-gray. "Guardians? Here?"

"As far as I'm concerned, it would appear that way. So I prefer you by my side instead of out on the border. Not only does that mean I am safe – it ensures you are as well. I've heard of Guardians with enough might to fell Archons. And the Kell is not far behind them."

Sorkolis snorted and withdrew his hands from the Shrapnel Launcher that was once secured in his tight compression. "Very well, my liege. If that is what you are to prefer."

Once the Archon had drawn close enough to the Throne, the Kell added sharply to the owner of the transmission: "Make sure you up the patrols around the border. We are to have no Guardians entering the border. Not without a fight. Annihilate anything that is not of the King Banner on sight." Then she clicked out of the coordinates and terminated the link.

Crouching on his unyielding legs, the Archon turned and studied the Kell, who was slumped on her throne. "Is there anything you require, my liege?" asked Sorkolis as he flitted his eyes to her.

"Not anything as of right now. I'll just be staying informed with the Guard." The Kell fumbled her gaze over to the jarring sides of the room, legs and lower arms crossed. "In their campaign to ensure the safety of the Kings."

Sorkolis turned to face the leader of his House, all four eyes narrowed. "Are you sure it was even Guardians? It could have been one of the other Fallen contributes, you know that very well."

Rikantor snorted. "I have my doubts. Fallen do not use stealth tactics, but instead strategical raids. Guardians, on the other hand, they tend to think more than the other Houses. Are a bit more on the… smarter side, to put it to a logistical term."

The Archon brushed off his linen cape gently with one hand, the golden material slipping away easily over his grip. Rubbing idly at the back of his head, he suggested, "But what if they were trying to make us think that?"

Rikantor curled one of her lips. "Possibly the Devils would not be smart for such a feat? Especially with that scoundrel of a Kell leading them. And with Drevis following after them."

Sorkolis offered what he had of a shrug, using his upper two limbs to grasp the barrel of his Shrapnel Launcher. "Maybe they are smarter than they let on."

"You think so nicely, Sorkolis. But they cannot possibly be so deceiving. They are downright bound of glee with their fighting skills; if they had such intellect they would be willing to share so carelessly as well. Think these things over, Archon." The Kell drew her arms together in a tight fold.

Gyrating, the Archon conceded, "Very well." He propped himself up onto two of his resistant legs and growled, "Let me go to the Guard and figure out what they have found."

Before he could have walked out, the Kell said something.

"Hold on! The Guard are already on their way here – and with news. Stay at my side, Sorkolis. I need to see what this is up to."

Two of the Vandals had entered the room, holding to their spears with tight, suppressed grips. One of them, adorned in a variety of war trophies and golden cloaks, stepped forward and lifted his smug chin. "We have news for the Kell, and the Kell alone."

"Sorkolis stays. Tell me what you want." Rikantor gestured for the smug Vandal to talk.

He immediately obliged. "News has it that Drevis has left the Devils. Two King scouts were patrolling the nearest cliffs and had investigated a few of the Red Banner conversing among the hills. They spoke of Drevis' absence in camp."

Intrigued, Rikantor lifted her head. "What probed her to resign from her duties as the Devil Baroness?"

This time, the Vandal did not seem so proud. He seemed shaken slightly – Sorkolis wondered whatever the matter was. "They also mentioned the reason why their 'beloved' Baroness had pulled from her duties."

"Why is that?" demanded Sorkolis, his voice a deep and rocking growl within his chest. "Speak and do not waste time."

The Vandal cut in rudely, "Skolas. She left because of Skolas."

Already feeling the tension of the Kell next to him, who was tapping her fingers against the arm of her throne, Sorkolis could feel his own shudders at the quote of the Kell of Kell's name. Only a night ago had him and Rikantor spoken of the escape of a warrior stronger than the mightiest group of Fallen.

"S-Skolas?" queried the Kell, leaning forward in her Throne slightly. "I do not understand – he was left in the Prison of Elders."

The other Guard, having been silent through the whole conversation, decided it was time for him to speak. "They also spoke of him escaping the clutches of the Reef's Queen, who is on his trail right now. He used a stolen Reef transporter and found his way to Drevis here, where she loyally follower her lover to the deep beyond. Where they are now is not for us to know."

Rikantor's eye muscles feathered in the slightest ways. "How did he escape?" she growled, a fierce look on her mighty face.

"He fooled the guards at the Prison of Elders. After he had left the bonds of his cage, he murdered everyone at the entrance and used their heads to pass the monitors. Afterwards, he fought himself out and hopped aboard one of their vessels currently in stasis, running of the tiniest slimmer of Ether. Then he blasted in space. He was lucky the ship was in a mild mode, or else it would have detected an uninvited presence there and shut him out."

The Kell still looked like she was going to claw her eyes out of their sockets. "But is he going to rally what was left of the Wolves? We made a mighty mistake making a team with him last time he was in control – it killed off half of our fleet. Not from Skolas' treachery, but from Guardians in a campaign to end his quest."

"He will likely grab what remains of the Wolves. Then retry his conquest for power." The Vandal gripped that spear he held with great power. "I hope you do not accept his offer. It made all the other Houses find us weak, dependable, and easy prey."

Rikantor snarled and shoved her finger at the Guard. "I was trying to help that Kell! I would never make the same mistakes! Ever since the day of my alliance all of the other Kells have been in their mad surge to end my life! You do not realize that I am slowly rebuilding what remains of our fleet? The King Banner is dying before our very eyes."

Looking over at the Kell, Sorkolis felt an odd twinge in his stomach at the sight of her. He wasn't sure what it was; he didn't like it. "Do not listen to the Guard, they pester you to no bounds. I make myself clear for the both of you to withdrawn from our presence."

Since they could not object, the two Vandals exited the room without another word – Rikantor clamped her hands around her head in a sigh. A sigh full of clear agitation and apprehension. She must have been worried for her Fleet, the loyal Archon guessed.

"I never took what they said too seriously. But it makes me full of agony to realize what I'd truly done for this fleet. We have already died – I am one of the largest bounties available in the entire system across the intergalactic space-wire. There is no escaping the bonds of the death surely closed in for me."

As Rikantor shut her eyes from the pain throbbing in her heart, Sorkolis daringly reached for one of her hands and took it with his own, closing his palm around her smaller one. "Do not worry, my liege. They would not reach you here, not ever."

The Kell… smiled. "I wish I could know your reasoning. But you and the fleet would never best an army of all the other Houses. I am soon condemned to die. Maybe not too soon, but it will happen before I know it. Before we all."

"Then we would be leaderless. Trust me, Rikantor – I would never let anyone hurt you. You do what you can for this House. And they will do what they can for you." Sorkolis released her grip and let the Kell flex her svelte fingers, obviously reorienting herself from the bonds of her terrible grief.

Rikantor shot him a suppressed look. "But Skolas is out – we are obviously dead soon. He will make sure every House bows to the Wolves Banner."

Pulling away from the Throne, Sorkolis ensured, "If the other Fallen troops do not stop the mad Kell, the Guardians will as they did last time. You have yet to fear, my liege. The only thing you should come to worry about is the endless nagging in your heart."

"Maybe. But the Guardians are gone, as far as I am getting from updates. You can abandon my presence for now, unless I require your assistance. Maybe you should heal your wounds further? That fight with Drevis wrecked you poor." The eyes of the Kell scanned her Archon up-and-down pointedly.

Feeling a flicker of red pass his face, the Archon suggested, "Very well, I will see to that then. Do not hesitate to call me to your aid."

Shaking her head that rattled with adornments, the Kell promised, "Of course I won't. Shall we continue with that map later? We still need to plan the exact route in which we take to the Devil Banner. I still have no decided which entrance would be… less guarded."

Sorkolis glanced behind his shoulder shallowly. "I can send some scouts tomorrow to investigate the campsite. If you would prefer me to accompany them, you may as well say so."

"I suppose I could do with your input, Sorkolis. I trust you more than any other in this House. If someone tells the truth, I know it will be you." The Kell rubbed behind her neck sourly. "But I can see the wounds on you, clearly last time I invited you to the Infirmary you didn't take the option. Go relieve yourself of the pain, then see to the Baron on the highest floor. He has… intel that he would like to share with you."

Sorkolis turned and opened the metal-framed doors of the Throne Room. "Will you be okay?" he demanded.

Nodding, the Kell gestured pointedly towards the door. "Of course. I have already ordered some of the Guard to come and protect me, if the time need be. But the most important thing right now is to ensure your healing has been done properly. Mend your wounds." With that, she returned her limbs to the arms of her Throne.

"If that is what you insist, my liege," promised the Archon as he shoved open the door to the hallway.

There were six Vandals, eight Dregs, Vulgantor and the female Scorch Captain, as well as four Captains waiting on the outside of the door. Sorkolis glanced over at Vulgantor and lifted his arms.

The male Scorch Captain shrugged helplessly. "I guess they thought here was a decent place to get the chat moving," he snorted, drawing his arms together in a fold.

"Then tell them to move. Rally yourself and your ally and see to them reciting the 'Oaths of Van-dna'n Hu.' It is important for them to understand." Sorkolis eyed the warriors, feathering a muscle in his eye.

Vulgantor obeyed. "Make way for the Kell's Guard," he snarled, shoving a Vandal out of the way with his mighty fists. "Report to the Shax-n immediately!"

Drifting along, the crowd started to move, save for the Captains, who followed lastly.

Sorkolis pushed by several Dregs and entered the stairwell, walking up the flight of stairs. Whatever the Baron needed, he wasn't sure. What had been unsaid as of these past few days?

Of course, other than the absence of Skolas in the Prison of Elders. How that colossus has escaped, the Archon would never know. Yet again, even he, as an Archon, the direct link between the Ether and Servitors to the Fallen fleet, did not understand everything about that warrior.

Yet again, Skolas had ever so recently been risen from the depths of his whirling stasis of madness – so he was, despite Variks' knowing, a very mysterious force within the presence of all the Prime Servitors.

The stairwell was covered with dirt, sticks, crackled leaves, debris, and other encumbrances at the Archon pressed his way up the sharp inclines. No wonder they'd initially planned for lifts stationed around here.

But the Baron, going by the name of Horcrexis, had undoubtedly informed the Kell of his finds? Surely she could not have just told him then and there. Maybe it was a more personal ration of things. Maybe he'd lost a friend? Other than the Kell, Sorkolis was not sure who he would mind losing.

Besides, Fallen hardly ever developed a rational bond with each other. Not on purpose or hostility, it was just their thing.

Opening the hatch at the top of the stairs, the Archon shoved himself through and felt the cold winds of the Cosmodrome batter him leniently in the face. Wanting to withdraw and subside back to the darkness but deciding against it, Sorkolis scrambled to his feet and looked around.

The top of the Refinery was covered with leaves and sticks, hoarded with plants and weeds that had sprouted over the top of the concrete finishes.

Fissures if the cracked hull gave light to the inside of the structure beneath, not that the Archon was bothered by this. Sometimes the din of the lights inside the building did not provide enough support for the overwhelming darkness.

And there, on the edge of the rooftop, was Horcrexix, the awkward Baron of the Kings. The only one left standing. Along with Yutis.

Pointedly after the fall of the other Barons: Phyksin, Paskin, and Vekis.

"Ah, you have arrived, Archon," the Baron said as he gyrated to further study the Priest of the King Banner. "How pleasant to see you."

Sorkolis snorted and drew his Shrapnel Launcher to his side, upper hands containing a firm seizure on the military weapon. In a gravelly voice, the Archon demanded, "Baron. What is it that you want?"

Gyrating slightly as if to address the higher-ranking Fallen in a more appropriate tone, the Baron confirmed, "Just something I thought you should know."

"Why so private?" hissed Sorkolis as he glanced over at the lesser Warrior standing beneath him. "Surely the Kell knows about this?"

The Baron shrugged wordlessly. "You can tell our liege if that is what you prefer. I just thought you'd want to know. Besides, you were the one that went out into the darkness to find Tilakis after all."

Sorkolis rubbed some rubble off of his golden cloak. In a spiteful tone, he growled, "Does this have something to do with that Vandal?"

"It would appear that way. It seems as though Thralls was the answer to his murder – as well as a whole other dropship out there on the way. Seems unlikely enough that the dropship was holding Shannu and his mother, Omnigul. They have currently stationed patrols across the Terrestrial Complex."

That statement paused the Archon. "Shannu?" he barked. "Whatever would Crota's son want to do here?"

"Kill, to put it simply. In other words, capture as many Guardians and Fallen as he can and torture them, with his mother's consent. She is a Witch, after all. She'd love to get her hands on Van Car-ant like me and you. Ghanrudar?"

Again, Sorkolis was stopped. "Why would you not tell Rikant – I mean, the Kell, about the arrival of one of the strongest members in the entire Hive?"

The Baron shrugged mindlessly. "It would appear it might mean more to you. Maybe a patrol could go out over the rocks in the Cosmodrome and mayhap put an end to Shannu. His mother will shortly follow. After that, we mount their heads on the wall for Crota himself to observe."

"We won't just rush in like that," growled the Archon. "There must be something else we can do. And we still have to fight the Devils that are on the other side of the border. Did you hear about the fact that Drevis is no longer with them?"

That seemed to spike the Baron's interest. "Whatever for?" he requested.

"Skolas, it would appear, coming from the Guard."

The Baron stiffened. "It seems as though we have four major threats to worry about. The Kell will not be pleased." After that, he simply lowered his head down and sighed. "Shannu will come and try to find the House Kings. He will not find them."

"We have to make sure he doesn't. After I am done with this conversation, I am to be heading off to my quarters for a nap, then will further study the Servitor and House of Demon artifacts I picked up on a walk." Sorkolis mildly remembered the enjoyable stroll he and the Kell had taken around the border earlier. But he decided not to mention Rikantor.

Rivulets of moonlight fell onto the roof of the Refinery. The attenuated slivers brought scars of shining energy across the two Fallen standing side-by-side.

The Baron turned and focused intently on the Priest. "If that is what you need. I just thought alerting someone of the Dreg's finds would be a necessary action to take for the survival of the King Banner."

"You did well. But yes, I am going down to my chambers. I will have you assist me on the journey to the Devils' camp. We're investigating locations on which way to enter their base with the Walkers."

Looking down thoughtfully, the Baron said, "How nice. Who else will be accompanying you down there? Will Vulgantor and Yunatir be going?"

Yunatir, the Archon recalled, was the female Scorch Captain.

"Likely," admitted Sorkolis drily. "They seem to be a help around here, especially being the only-remaining Scorch Captains we have left in our fleet. Ever since the others left in the raid above Erde-Balane. Such a shame that nearly three fourths of the King Banner was devastated in that battle."

Glancing idly over his shoulder, the Baron grumbled, "We were fighting against both the Exile and Winter Banners – fully packed with Walkers, Skiffs, and vicious Captains. Honestly you were expecting a successful raid?"

Shaking his head, the Archon spat, "No. But I thought we were prepared. Now we have to fight the Devils, who arrived one day after we did. Life's not fair for the King Banner."

"No, but we fight, as the most brutal House of the Fallen. Our success will come – we have enough time to avenge the battle of Erde-Balane. Give it time. That is exactly what the Kell was planning we do. Don't worry for us."

"I will always worry, Horcrexix. Remember that. Now, I can thank you for the conversation. But tomorrow the Kell will be aware of Shannu's presence in Old Russia. Not sure why you didn't bother to let her know, especially if you confronted her just to let me know that you required my assistance." Sorkolis rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

The Baron snorted. "I just believed by the Prime Servitor Overlords that you were to be the one to notify. As I recall, you can always let our liege know of the burden. I hope to see you tomorrow as we scour the Devil's Base, Archon. I wish to you a good night's rest – you deserve it."

With that, the Baron walked off with his golden cape flying behind him majestically against the silhouette of the moon ascending in the air to its climax. Then, he began his walk down the opposing flight of stairs to the Refinery interior.

Sorkolis attended to himself on the bottom layer, making sure his chamber was close enough to Rikantor's come the time she might need something.

Other than lacking proper dissection tools and a night of loathing, revolting realization, the Archon could not find himself doing this for too much longer. After putting down the orange artifacts and curling up into the fur-lined "bed" he provided himself, he let sleep overwhelm his latest thoughts:

Shannu in the Cosmodrome? This was not the invitation for good luck.

Morning light seeped through the gaps in the top of the Refinery. The Archon pulled himself out of his chamber and stepped into the hallway – the Baron, Vulgantor, Yunatir, a troop of Vandals and Dregs, as well as a Captain, were lined up in the hallway.

"I see you've already sorted yourselves together," snorted the Archon as he studied the members of the fleet – all wearing the heavy armor of the Elite Kings. Some of the Guard watched from their post beside the Kell's room, intrigue written on their faces. Surely they knew about the plan to get on the Devil's base?

Vulgantor nodded and growled, "The Kell made sure of it."

Oh did she? Now nice…

The Baron nodded. "Let's get to it then. We don't have time to waste. Even though the Devil Banner's base won't be more than two clicks from here, they could be easily getting scout patrols ready for the morning. The sooner we leave – the less chance we have of getting caught."

Sorkolis nodded. "We take up the Pikes and head out for the base. We will not engage through the front but from the starboard side. Chances are it is vulnerable and will be a soft spot for the Walkers."

After these words of acknowledgement, the group started making their way out of the front gates and onto their Pikes. Some of the Vandals and Dregs stayed on the ground. The Scorch Captains preferred to walk as well.

Sorkolis mounted up and booted the system, accelerating the thrusters and keeping the energy deposits stable. Once cleared, he gestured for the patrol to roll out.

Cool wintery air came in swathes across the patrol as they made their way out into the depths of Old Russia. The sounds of the ocean crashing into the rocks below met the ears of the Fallen.

A windswept clearing revealed a variety of shrubs, leaves, tattered leaves, and dead trees from their hiding spots. Some animals were scouting the cliffs as well – the Fallen ignored these native specimens.

Sorkolis rolled out under the glowing glare of the sun, the rays beating down on his face and armored legs. The others seemed undisturbed as they followed their Archon.

Of course, nearly once they hit the border of the Terrestrial Complex, red banners that were tattered and flailing, breezed in the winds that ripped across the Cosmodrome. It was time to enter Devil territory.

The Archon pressed his hand against his transmitter. "Van Car-ant! Sna' hran ywna. Make sure you're not caught!"

Since they were the strongest of the Kings, the group took these words seriously. To put it in the English way, Sorkolis had warned: "Fallen! Now entering enemy borders. Make sure you're not caught!"

It was pretty basic – Van Car-ant is "Eliksni."

Ghanrudar is "Yes."

The grounds were swept with winds that tore at the ground and sky. Thunderous clouds rolled overhead and promised good weather. Luckily the chances of another snowstorm were terribly low. The Kings would not be disturbed.

The dimly-lit structure of the Devil's camp was crawling into view as the House Kings approached. The low hum of the Pikes gave off some cover giveaway, but it was not enough for thermal transmitter in the base to pick up.

Red banners still lit the Fallens' four eyes as they made their way up the intrepid inclines and steep drops. Soon enough that visible right side would be spotted among the bushes, and the area would be mapped for the Kell to acknowledge. Then, a day later, a strike would hit the Devils and hopefully have them running back to where they came from.

King Banner would truly have the advantage of surprise.

Sure, there were dangerous Hive Knights scouring the landscape behind the Terrestrial Complex, but what else was there to do? If engagement was made on Shannu, the House of Kings would fall. Especially since Omnigul was there as well.

Avoiding jarring rocks, Sorkolis weaved his way up the path. A few Skiffs were landed above the camp, possibly unloading cargo and supplies that would mean for a long-term stay.

Nice try. But that won't be happening.

Since they were close enough to that starboard opening, the Fallen jumped off their Pikes and began picking their ways up the slope.

Sometimes the Wire Rifle of a Vandal would turn in the direction of the Kings, but the latter were always faster. Trees, rocks, dirt, sand, grime, and shrubs were enough cover for even the tallest of the Fallen warriors.

Indeed, the Baron's prediction had been accurate – there were absolutely no Fallen guarding the base's starboard side – yet. Soon enough they would have that covered, because it was morning. Not everyone had awoken from their rest quite so early.

Crouched behind some cover, Sorkolis eyed the incline in which he'd initially planned to get to the right side of the structure. It was well-hidden form any mechanics that might spot them, despite the fact that the Pikes had had to been left behind in order to keep a safe measure on things.

The Baron pushed his way by the Scorch Captains. "Are we ready to investigate?" he submitted, scanning the walls of the building. "Do you see any Devils? They are going to be out here soon, so this mission had better be quick."

"Of course it will be," promised Sorkolis. "Relax. Just let me see if there is a way up I can get to. After I find it, I'll let the rest come up as well."

The Archon shoved himself off the side of the grassy alcoves and looked towards the towering structures ahead of him. He had to be quick, or else the Devils inside would be able to detect his presence among them.

Scraping his rough hands along the sides of the metal walls, the high-ranking member of the Kings looked for any handholds that the others could grapple up with.

Hooking his majestic hands into a loop, Sorkolis pulled himself up the wall and landed feebly on the other side. Now he could see into the camp, all their Walker stashes, barracks, weapon holds…

"Did you find anything?" questioned Vulgantor as he slipped into view below the catwalk.

The Archon nodded. "Affirmative. Let me give you all a hand."

First, he helped up the Scorch Captains, then the Baron, and after it all the Dregs and Vandals that had accompanied the mission. Soon, all of them were positioned on the catwalk and were focused on the camp below.

"Well, their army has multiplied," growled the Baron as he crouched down beside the railings. "Surely more than the last time I saw them. We'd better make sure that this 'surprise' is lucky."

Sorkolis nodded in his agreement. "It would seem so… I shall report this to the Kell upon our return. What else can you see? Any other vulnerable spots?"

One of the Dregs looked over the bars. "Umm… Not that I'm aware of. As far as this is going, I believe that we're standing on the feeblest location."

"You're right," agreed Vulgantor as he lifted the heavy Scorch Cannon over his might shoulders. "There would be no place better than this one. Maybe we can get a look at their commands center?"

"Don't waste your time on it," snarled Sorkolis as he eyed the campsite with his glowing four eyes. "As far as I need to know, this was what we were supposed to be doing – looking for a good route to take to their camp. So map these locations in your head before our return."

Clutching his Wire Rifle, the Vandal closest to the Baron said, "Let's also make sure we keep our heads down, while we're at it. I think a patrol is coming out of the barracks."

The Priest flitted his gaze towards the entrance of the bronze holding room, and a troop of Dregs were exiting the site. They held Shock Pistols and Blades in their suppressed grips, and from the looks on their visible, exposed mouths, they were aggressive.

Once getting to the middle of the camp, the patrol stopped and awaited orders. Out of the corner of his eye, Sorkolis saw their Servitor chained to the ground and glaring at them, making inaudible noises. The Dregs bent over in a bow, clearly respecting the gargantuan machinery, before they began heading to the closest stairwell.

"Get down!" hissed the Baron as he shoved Sorkolis to the floor. Rubbing his lower right hand from injury, the Archon turned as he watched the group heading to the catwalk.

Vulgantor looked frantic. "We have to leave, now! The other House cannot know that we were watching them, or doom will surely befall the King Banner!" He reached for Yunatir, and the female Captain took his hand and was helped lifting to her feet.

Sorkolis knew that as well. The Pikes were still untacked a few hundred meters from the campsite. He nodded in approval. "I'll take on half of the patrol, Vulgantor takes the other half. I'll bring the Baron, along with those Vandals and Dregs. You take Yunatir, and the other half."

Once they were split, Sorkolis led his group down the catwalk as the Devils approached. Heart racing, the Archon ducked down into the nearest available spot and landed in the wintery snow beneath him.

"Come on!" he growled, gesturing to the rest of the fleet. "We cannot let the Devils find us here."

The Baron launched himself off the side of the metal railing, crashing into the ground underfoot as well. He aptly padded to the side to so much as stay out of the way. Soon enough, the others came down as well.

"Don't waste any time," the Baron snarled, shoving a Dreg out of the way as he raced down the snowy corridor. "Sorkolis, you take the lead."

Slipping ahead of the squadron, the Archon made his way down the snowy incline as he dashed towards the Pikes down below. The sounds of other footsteps behind him muffled the racing of his own heart.

Clumps of snow soon enough became burdens as the patrol dashed on. The silhouettes of Vulgantor's escape party were soon visible against the outline of the sun. Warm heat radiated down the group as Sorkolis watched the shadows of the Scorch Captains barreling towards their destination.

Jutting out to an awkward angle, the Archon of the King Banner led the way down the slopes as he reached the Pikes ahead of him. The loud parties that were running away from the Devils must have caught their attention – because one of the Dregs shouted, "Intruders! Kings on Devils' land!"

Knowing these words must have started a commotion on the inside of the camp, Sorkolis continued on as he ran. Mounting up on his Golden Pike, he gestured for the Baron to hop on as well. But the Dregs and Vandals were much too slow for the feat – leaving them far behind the patrol…

"They risked their lives for a great cost," growled the Archon. "But they must be left – we cannot afford to be here too long."

Nodding, the Baron took off for the hills on his Pike, cape flowing majestically behind him. Vulgantor and the others were now visible as they dashed to the Pikes, but their slopes were much rockier and less snowy, so their entire patrol made it down to the dispatch zone.

"You're not waiting for your group?" asked Yunatir as he leapt aboard her Pike, resetting the boosters.

Sorkolis shook his head. "They're an encumbrance to this evasive maneuver. They must be left behind, I'm afraid. Get going, all of you. We have no time to waste."

The Pikes began on the long roll, tearing up any grass or debris in the way. The left-behind Dregs and Vandals began shouting for help as the Devils escaped their campsite, using Wire Rifles to pick off every single on the group.

The Archon didn't look back… he didn't want to. Couldn't.

It was for the safety of everyone else, right?

Ahead of him, only the streaming tailors on the back of the Baron's Pike booster were visible. Another snowstorm was beginning; hopefully that would provide cover for the group. It did not seem as thick as the last one only a few mere days ago. Maybe this one could actually not obscure everything in vision.

The group continued on over the snow, flurries of sticks and leaves getting stirred up by the ravenous wrath of the cold air. A bitter chill sent the ruff of the Archon's fur necklace on end.

Eventually the storm became thick, but Sorkolis had memorized what remained of the barren landscape the first few days of his being here. The shouts of the Vandals and Dregs soon blended in to the land beyond.

Rusted red-and-brown walls soon made their way into the high-ranking's view as he pressed on through the weather. A few Captains were guarding the entrance, although they seemed paranoid of the bitter cold.

Tacking up his Pike, the Archon swiftly jumped down from his vehicle as he landed on the concrete floor. One of the nearby Dregs led the Golden Pike to the Dispatch Zone and hooked it up. Nearby, the Baron was dusting off his cape idly as he attended to himself, a scowl on what was visible of his face. Then, he looked up at the Archon as the larger ranking approached him.

"You didn't tell me what you and the Kell were talking about a few days ago, when I walked in to retrieve Tilakis' body."

Sorkolis snorted. "I didn't believe it was on my part to do so. In fact, if it was ever your business at all. We were just conversing, no matter." He rubbed his face as if to hide the red on it – the Baron had walked in on a confession, if anything. The Archon wasn't going to say anything about that.

The Baron snorted. "I was just asking, my friend," he growled coldly, the fur on his neck that he wore as an adornment tingling in the soft breeze slightly. "But you are right – you and the Kell's conversations are not of my knowing."

That's what I thought, you sneaky Van Car-ant!

Vulgantor and Yunatir had driven up to the base as well, although half of their patrol had been scaled down. Apparently Wire Rifles, looking at all the marks along the front of the Captains' Pikes.

"Did you see what happened to the others?" asked Sorkolis, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Yunatir removed the luxurious cape from her shoulders, eventually tacking down her Pike as well. "They were sniped, I'm afraid. Could not make it to their Pikes. The region they were at was too snowy and bitter."

The other Scorch Captain nodded in agreement. "Why did you leave them? I know the count was about four, but every member these days in the Kings count. You know that the Kell will not approve of this."

"And she would like it less if both her Baron and her Archon were set free," growled Sorkolis as he drew his arms together in a tight fold, setting up his Shrapnel Launcher on one of the wall hooks. "And those four as well."

Yunatir snorted. "I know you always mean well, Sorkolis. But if you'd covered them, maybe they would still exists. And the Devils must be coming over as well. You know that this is information the Kell must be sure of." The Scorch Captain also folded her arms up.

"I understand that they will act with violence. I will announce to the Guard and our liege about the problem. Every one of us will have to be ready." The Archon dipped his head, hoping the Scorch Captain would approve.

She seemed to. "Very well," she snorted. "I see that you were only doing for the best of the Kings. I bid you a good day, sir." The Captain, as well as her best companion, Vulgantor began withdrawing to the darkness in the rooms to the side of them. The Baron appeared disturbed as Sorkolis gyrated to study him.

"This is grave news," he decided as he focused on the ground below him. "The patrol is very likely to be telling one of their high-ranking about this… And who knows about Shannu. This might be the end of the Kings, Sorkolis."

The Archon shook his head. "No matter what happens, the Kings will not be dead. We will not fare like the House of Demons or Rain. We will fight for as long as we can, and let our scribes write about our victory. Our Ketch has been docked somewhere, so we can escape if the time need be."

"We barely escaped Erde-Balane! What makes you think we will be able to escape Crota's son, House Devils, Guardians, and all the other Banners that are surely trying to find us right now?" The Baron looked affronted, scared, and sad – if the Kell or any high-ranking was to pass, the Kings would be in a frenzy.

Sorkolis growled fiercely. "Absolutely do not speak to me in such a tone. We will always find a way, Baron."

Now, this time, the smaller ranking just sighed. "I sure hope I can trust that," he rumbled, casting his eyes to the floor again.

Why wouldn't you?

Snorting, the Archon drew away from the cold presence of one of the only remaining King Barons. "We will always. Now, can you see to the fact if the Kell is here?"

"She should be. Where else would she be?"

Sorkolis shrugged. "Mayhap the Guard are informing her of some vital intel. Just go up there and see."

As the Baron turned away from his Archon, Sorkolis adjusted himself to another flight up stairs to the right instead. He was going to have a small chat with some of the Fallen trackers and scribes before he went off to see the Kell.

The inside of the chamber was shadowy and gloomy as expected – but trackers preferred it here. Some Vandals were crouched beside glowing, purple computer screens, their eyes fixed on the monitors. One Servitor was floating beside the motherboard, its singular optic focused solely on the approaching Archon.

"Hmm… the Archon is here. Whatever you need that we have of use to you, Sorkolis?" That was one of the Dregs speaking, using one of his two hands to grapple his chin suspiciously. "Why did you not send Vulgantor to grab information?"

Sorkolis could see the silhouette of his House-mate standing before him. Although it was a Dreg, this was one of the most valued trackers in the Kings. "The Scorch Captain did not come because he does not know," the Archon growled.

That got the head of the Dreg to tilt, narrowing those four gleaming eyes he had. "What does he not know?" the inferior teammate demanded, tapping his fingers against the metal computer behind him.

"Crota's son, Shannu, has arrived by dropship in the Cosmodrome, hiding about our many cliffs and alcoves. I have come to the trackers to see if they could perhaps help me find our Hive enemy."

Gyrating so he could study the screen, the Dreg asked, "How do you know of this?"

"The Baron informed me of it. The source he acquired it from is not of my knowing." Although Sorkolis did, in fact, know the source, he decided to keep the Dreg from further questioning.

"I see. Have you found any evidence or clues of Hive existence in any certain areas? And if you don't mind me asking, does the Kell know of this?" The Dreg crossed his arms together, his eyes turning slightly to notice the Archon behind him.

Sorkolis growled, "She will be likely to know soon. I just thought the King's trackers should be informed. Perhaps you could send out a mission to explore the Terrestrial Complex's areas."

The Dreg snorted. "We will do just as, thank you. And you were right about making sure we knew – if someone were to pick up the tracks of Shannu first, it would be us."

Dipping his head to acknowledge the Dreg, Sorkolis turned to back out before the Dreg decided to ask another question. "Oh, could you hold up a moment? I have acquired another thermal reader for you." The inferior ranking Fallen reached out for the Archon.

Grabbing the drive, Sorkolis waved his hand. "Thank you. I bid you and the rest of the fleet a good day." The Archon began backing out of the confined reaches of the gloomy trackers quarters, shaking off his majestic cape without another thought…

That got the Archon wondering, of course – what if Shannu decided to bring siege about the House of Kings? What would befall their Banner if that were to happen? Clenching all four of his fists, Sorkolis decided he didn't want that kind of thought to enter his mind. He couldn't allow his beloved House to fall under the wrath of the Crota' son, grandson of Oryx.

However, he was already aware of the fact that there would be casualties. Many of them. But as long as no one of a superior rank fell, the House should be okay.

Settling down a bit, the Archon decided to go check in on the Kell. His last remark to the Baron had been simply to get him away, but this time he intended on letting his liege know about the presence of the Hive in Old Russia.

A few of the Guard were, as usual, crouched beside the entrance to the Throne Room.

Sorkolis approached them, and the one that was to the right looked up, a scowl firmly planted on his face.

"Not another disturbance," he growled, closely crossing his lower set of arms together as he grappled his spear. "What do you want?"

The Archon dipped his head in a submissive manner at the Vandal. "Simply to see our liege, if you don't mind."

That got the Vandal growling. "You know the drill, Sorkolis – make it quick."

With that word of approval, the two Vandals stepped aside and let the higher-ranking member into the chambers.

Pushing open the door slightly, Sorkolis let his eyes file the room thoroughly.

The Kell was, as usual, slumped on her Throne, drumming her fingers against the golden arms.

Some Dregs were begging for mercy at the side of the room, and a Captain was hovering above them all.

At the sudden entry, Rikantor glanced up from her duties. It looked like she was trying to stifle the surprised gleam in her eyes.

"Sorkolis, how nice to see you," she growled, curling her fingers together. "The rest of you, leave my presence! I have a few words that need to be shared with the Archon."

Trotting ahead a few feet, Sorkolis hesitated at the center of the chamber. "What is it you must demand of me, my liege?" he questioned, patience lacing his tone in svelte ribbons.

Once all the others had left, the Kell had softened her tone – "I see you've returned. How did things go?"

That caused another wave of reluctance to overwhelm the Archon. "There are in fact a few things I do have to say. Some things do not involve what we found out at the Devil's campsite."

"What is it?" requested Rikantor, her tone placid.

Sorkolis tapped his huge fingers against his linen, massive cape. "Well, before we get to our invasion, I'll let you know what the Baron decided to tell me."

The Kell must have sensed his nervousness, because her friendly tone had diminished and with it a rather apprehensive snarl. "And what would that be, loyal Archon?"

"He informed me that a Hive cruiser landed behind the Terrestrial Complex just a day ago. On board it was Shannu, the son of Crota."

Curling her fingers, Rikantor demanded, "And what has he to be doing on Earth? Surely his father would have him guarding the darkness beneath the Moon over there?"

Shaking his head, Sorkolis promised, "I am not aware of his intentions during the stay here. But I do know that he also has Omnigul on his side as well. It would appear as such that his mother has business here as well. However, that also remains classified to me. My apologies, Rikantor."

Growling, a muscle feathering in her eyes, the leader of the King Banner was obviously fighting back her snarl. "You should have saved the bad news for last…" she huffed, clearly exasperated.

That remark made the Archon tap his fingers as well. "Yes, there is some. But tell me – what do you plan to do with Shannu?"

"I'll figure that all out later, Sorkolis. The most important threat that remains is that of the Van Car-ant. What did you find within the Devil's camp?" the Kell demanded.

Now that they were on better terms, Sorkolis responded, "Just as the Baron predicted, the right side of the fortress was the least guarded. However, I do have some bad news."

Rolling her pupil-less eyes, the Kell snarled, "What now?"

"On our way out, we were… caught, but some of the Devils' patrol groups. So they found us invading." This was where the Archon was getting a bit more reluctant.

Again, Rikantor picked up that emotion in a few mere seconds. "Well?" she barked.

"Some of our members were too slow to escape. I had to leave behind a group before this snowstorm hit."

That only got the Kell snarling. "Again, you have led the patrol to a few more causalities. Do you need to be downgraded, Sorkolis? How many will die with you as the leader?"

Not responding to her comment, the Archon continued, "Me and the Baron escaped, as well as the other group that was escaping. Now, that is not the only news… me and the Scorch Captains believe that the Devils are on their way here right now. For battle."

For her response to that bit of news, Rikantor removed herself from the seat of her Throne and began approaching the door towards the chamber's entrance. "I cannot let that happen," she warned viciously.

"Where are you going?" requested Sorkolis as he turned to face his leader. "Surely you will not be abandoning the protection of our home?"

Opening the door with the fists of her two right arms, the Kell growled, "I will do what I must. You can accompany me or I will go alone. The choice is up to you."

As Rikantor began padding down the steps, the Archon took two graceful bounds to catch up to her. He worked his hand over her upper left arm, initially holding her down. In front of all the Guard.

Glancing to both sides, the Kell couldn't remove the blush from her face as she pulled her arm free of Sorkolis' grip. All the Guard at the entrance had lifted up their spears and aimed it at the Archon.

Rikantor settled them down with a wave of her hand, but she focused her gaze solely on Sorkolis. "Yes?" she demanded, but even the Archon could detect the warmth radiating from her face.

"You will not be able to stop an invasion, my lord. Remember – we are the House of Kings. The most brutal, violent House currently in existence. They will remember all the things we have done to them. They will attack."

Receding her lip, the Kell growled, "Very well." Stepping away from Sorkolis, she added with a snarl, "But I will got to the border and see proof of this 'invasion'."

Bounding forward, Sorkolis offered, "I will assist you, if that is what you wish."

One of the Kell's Guard growled, "How can we trust you?"

"Yeah," another agreed. "That Syna pupt'a grabbed the Kell!"

Rikantor turned to face the lot of them, her growl powerful and mighty. "Enough! Sorkolis always means the best for me. He would not slay his own Kell whom he has promised allegiance."

The Archon swelled with his utmost pride.

"So that as it is," the Kell growled, "I will take him to the border with me. Then at dawn, we wait for a strike, if it is to happen. Come on, Sorkolis."

Then, the two tread on through the gales of the wind, finally walking for at least an hour or so.

As always, the snowstorm hadn't dimmed in the slightest, but it did provide some cover for the two as they made their way out across the Cosmodrome.

The armor the two wore offered some protective defense against the bales of the snow as it smashed against their armor. So, at least the two knew they could keep at this pace for a while.

Rikantor led the way with her unrelenting legs as she padded down the slope, upper arms worked around a Shrapnel Launcher.

Behind her was the Archon, his fingers currently gripping a Shrapnel Launcher as well. He stumbled over rocks, feeling embarrassed almost against the grace of the Kell. She was a female, he supposed.

Some leaves were stirred up the breeze as the two made their way along. Even the deep tracks of the Pikes were not visible in this weather.

Finally, the Kell decided to speak her words. "This was a bad idea," she admitted, humor lacing her tone in ribbons.

However, the Archon was less amused, but he always found some happiness in his heart for the Kell. "You don't say?" he spat, slinging his arms together as he looked across the peaks for any sign of life.

That got a look shot at him from behind, the Kell's eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, I need proof of this, after all," she growled.

"Hmm," was all Sorkolis would let out.

The inclines got harshly steeper the further the two ascended over the cliff tops. Snow and harsh winds kept back the force of the two as they walked on through the tough gales of the storm.

"This is a mess," the Kell conceded, drawing her lower arms together. "Shall we return?"

Sorkolis cast one glance out behind him. "No," he decided. "We've walked this far, there is no turning back."

Rikantor snorted. "If you insist," she added drily, tapping her fingers against the barrel of her gun.

Snowy cliffs and peaks rose up in the fine layer of mist as the Kell and her Archon bade on their ways through the storm.

Winter-peaked caps lifted up in the area as they were approached, giving the place a misty, unknown haze. Sorkolis was not at all familiar with Earth, but he found some of its architecture intriguing.

Apparently, the Kell did as well, for at some points Sorkolis could find her marveling at some of the things she caught in sight.

It must have, being cooped up in that Throne room all day.

Finally, they had reached the end of the border and were walking on through the dim silence. The Kell glanced behind her shoulder to make sure Sorkolis was still there.

He waved his hand in response.

Assured that she was on the right track, the leader of the King Banner continued picking her way up the paths that winded over hills and tight gaps.

Now the Devil's base could be anywhere from her and any few clicks away. But the storm did not take sides – it might have protected them, but it also protected the enemy as well.

This, the Archon was sure, was what Rikantor found frustrating. She had her lower arms crossed together, and she was eyeing the metal structures up ahead.

"Is there something you might need?" pressed Sorkolis as he bounded ahead a few steps to catch up with his Kell.

At that comment Rikantor shook her head. "No, there isn't. But do you even know where we are going at this point?"

No.

Sorkolis shrugged. "Maybe… perhaps that way, up the cliffs. I can recall meeting some steep vantage points while I was out on the Pikes earlier."

The Kell trusted his word and began making her way up the sharp inclines, using her once-crossed lower arms to help provide some assistance for scaling the rocks and crannies that she could use as handholds. Once she was up, she looked back down at her Archon.

After he had managed to push himself over the rocks, the two made out of their way. But the storm got ever thick, and the Kell more frustrated. And the two more… lost.

"You can't know where we are going at this stage…" groaned the Kell as she fumbled her hand over the Shrapnel Launcher. "Let's go back."

The Archon snorted. "I have to admit, I really don't know where 'back' is, from now. We just have to keep on moving."

Curling her fingers, Rikantor snarled, "So you have been leading me into nothing for the past hour and a half?"

"Of course not, I would never do that. But I can't recall passing by these fallen boats and ships. Perhaps we took a wrong turn," Sorkolis offered.

The Kell was done. "Enough, forget I ever asked about the siege. Which way is home?"

Gyrating to face the cliffs, the Archon admit, he had no idea.

"How would I know?"

Rikantor squatted over and held her hands up to her face, clearly frustrated. "I've had enough of this. Night is coming and we're both lost out here. Come on." She started trotting off in another direction.

Having no choice but to follow, Sorkolis was led to some rocks that provided protection as a natural defense. The Kell felt along the walls before she found some gaps. Then she ducked under and in.

"What are you doing?" requested the Archon as he tipped his head to look into the gap.

Resting her Shrapnel Launcher to the side, Rikantor snorted, "Going to sleep. I have Ether that I am on the verge to preserving right now. If you want to freeze, I recommend you stay out there. That armor guard only lasts ever so long."

Sorkolis watched with a wrinkled nose as the Kell fidgeted to the side a bit and offered the Archon some room. "Well?" she demanded.

Giving up his dilemma, Sorkolis ducked under the arch and found himself uncomfortably pressed up against the side of the Kell, and the heat rose up on his face. "Were… there any bigger ones?" he requested.

"Not that I am aware of," Rikantor snorted. "But would you just sleep? The Guard will hate this, but I am doing what is vital for my surviving of the night."

Failing to respond, the Archon smooched himself against the rocky floor of the ground, using his cape as a rather rough but comfortable blanket.

"Rest well," offered Sorkolis as he put his head down against the stone.

Beside him, Rikantor was also trying with all her might to make herself comfortable on the ground of the caverns. "And you as well," she responded, before going silent.

Adjusting himself slightly, the Archon put his head down and let the bonds of sleep overwhelm him as he was pressed against the wintery touch of his Kell.

"That does not give me an explanation as to why you both were out in the snowstorm last night! Do you not realize you could have been jumped and hung on a wall?"

The Kell's Guard had been undermining the whole problem as Rikantor waved him off absent mindedly. "Well, it didn't happen, did it? So it really doesn't matter. Get back to your posts, now!"

Scowling, the Vandal gyrated and began making his way down the stairs that creaked beneath every footstep.

Turning back around to face her Archon, the Kell assured, "Now you may go out and scout the cliffs behind the Terrestrial Complex for any intruders from the Hive. I'll be here."

With those words, Rikantor padded after the Kell's Guard and began making her way back to the Throne room.

Sorkolis watched the Kell leave for a moment or two, then he made his way to the Dispatch Zone for some units. However, the only ones there were a Captain, two Vandals, and four Dregs.

"Let's get this over with," snorted the Archon. "We're scanning the mountains behind our base for foreign invaders. Do I make myself clear?"

The fleet nodded.

Sorkolis dipped his head. "Let's go. We don't have much time to waste after all of this. We'll go up there and see if the Hive is roosted among those cliffs. Word let me out that they crashed a dropship onto our land. Shannu was among them."

That got a few gasps from the warriors.

"Do not worry. If we see Shannu, we will not engage. Hopefully we will not find him there. Let's move out. Use Pikes, so we can have a chance to escape if the time need be."

Once the group was all mounted up, they started making their way along the snowy caps of Old Russia. A fine breeze stirred up some sticks, and the aerial scent was heavy with decay.

The Archon navigated the Cosmodrome and banked heavily right, making his way along the alcoves of the Terrestrial Complex. The walls of the Refinery provided some space for the group as they rode along in their Pikes.

Finally, they breached the back of the massive structure and looked out along the many spires of rust and debris.

It was already clear that a Hive dropship had been crashed. The green-and-black pavilions were sticking straight up at an awkward angle, and the air was heavy with the musk of the Hive. Sorkolis was glad he was wearing a gas mask.

"Is that them?" requested a Captain as he slowed down his bronze Pike for a better look.

The Archon scanned the walls. Shannu could have been anywhere at this point. "Yes," he breathed out. "Whatever you do, make sure you're not found."

Rolling out over the snowy peaks, the patrol eyed the green ship as it stuck out of the ground. Clearly, around the base of the pod, were a few Acolytes who seemed to be attempting repairs for the vessel.

Standing over the horde of them was a massive Knight. Luckily, it was not Shannu, for the ghoulish Hive warrior was easily distinguishable for his eighteen-foot-tall form and burned red eyes.

No, the Hive Knight was not born with those red eyes. They indeed, were scalded viciously with the hideous effect of Moon Acid. Those three eyes had been burned to death.

The Knight shouted something in the Hive language and pointed his finger at the pavilions. The others immediately obliged and got to working on that area of the ship, and moving quickly.

"Are they trying to get out of here?" requested one of the Dregs as he further scoured the clearing for any vital intel.

Shrugging, Sorkolis growled, "Possibly. But they might also be trying a backup plan if they need one. Or getting comm systems online if the ship is that badly damaged. I'm not about to go in and find out."

The Captain leaned forward and asked, "Does anyone have a visual on Shannu?"

"Not that I'm aware of," responded one of the Vandals.

A Dreg added, "Negative."

Scowling, the Captain snorted, "Well, the sooner we do, the better."

"Maybe he's right behind you!" snickered another one of the four Dregs.

The Captain bared his teeth at the two. "That's not even funny!" he snarled, about to eradicate the Fallen warrior.

Sorkolis put his hand between the two of them. "Enough!" he roared fiercely. "There will be no taunts. You might just get us all killed." With his muscles feathering, he added to the Dreg, "And respect your elders, fool!"

"Sorry," obeyed the Dreg, though one of the Vandals lashed out at him and caused scarlet blood to ripple along the snow.

The group watched for a few more minutes. Finally, Sorkolis had an idea.

"The rest of you stay here. I'm going to investigate the Hive dropship."

Immediately, that got the Captain's attention. "No way! Bad call."

Scowling, Sorkolis shot that member of the fleet a harsh look. "What are the chances of my death? I can take on a few measly Hive warriors. Shannu is a problem, on the other hand. He is likely scouting right now."

"Oh, very well," snorted one of the Vandals. "Just try to hurry back, will you? Whatever are you even going for, Sorkolis?"

The Archon responded powerfully, "To investigate their remains. I will further damage the ship while I am there so they cannot take off with it. That way they cannot report to their leaders."

With those words, the group seemed alright, but very affronted and clearly confused at the whole matter. Sorkolis hoped he would not be the cause of more deaths or else he would be a Dreg very soon. And there was no way he was allowing that to happen. So, sucking up his gut, he started out over the snowy cliffs towards the Hive dropship ahead of him. How bad could this really be? Shannu wasn't even here.

Once inside of the massive structure, Sorkolis worked his way around. The interior featured green holographic computer screens and ancient technology. As the Archon had predicted, there seemed not to be any comms online or working.

Three Acolytes were bent over and examining the threshold of the ship, their fingers working around wires and other materials. They seemed bent back into the work as if it was a major component in their campaign.

Perking up his ears to hear better, Sorkolis remembered a vaguely familiar screeching residing down the halls of the ship's interior. Feeling himself stiffen, the Archon remembered that voice.

Omnigul, the Will of Crota.

Also one of Crota's favored lovers.

Shannu's mother.

The Wizard was pointed at some figures on a holographic screen, lip twitching slightly. The bright hue of her eyes just added to the muffled darkness of the dropship, and she was scowling irritably.

Floating over to the device, she grabbed an Acolyte out of the way and hissed, "Where is that wretch Arcena? She assured me she would be back at this time."

Wonder why she isn't more fluent with her own language… Possibly picked up some hints of everything, or they have artifacts.

An Acolyte shrugged helplessly. "Dan viansûtaa." Although Sorkolis had no idea what that meant in reality, he had a few guesses. Maybe Omnigul's response would leave clues?

"Thanks for being so helpful, oaf." Omnigul, despite her sadistic nature, seemed to be using the tiniest hints of sarcasm in her words. "Prepare the Ritual of Awakening."

Sorkolis watched with burning eyes as the Acolytes turned away from the General and began crouching over on the ground, setting their guns aside simply to have them out of the way.

As they began to murmur a few things, the Archon shoved himself out of the fissure in the wall and starting edging his way down the attenuated hallways of the Hive dropship. As long as he was not caught here, his security was assured. But if he was, things would have to turn tides.

Knowing that the other Fallen were still awaiting his presence on the exterior of the ship, the Archon pressed his way down the halls and started weaving around the narrow corridors.

Maybe there was a control room around here.

Nudging a nearby door open, Sorkolis could have grinned on the spot as he saw the generator and power cores. There were a few Hive Acolytes working on that as well, but with a few Shrapnel Launcher shots they were all sprawled on the floor.

Hopping over to some of the cords, the Archon tugged at a cable sticking out of the generator, hoping to disable some functions. Maybe there were no intruder alerts…

Ripping open a pressurized tension spring, Sorkolis continued hacking down at the ship's interior with his blade that he always had attached to his belt.

Steam poured out of the fissures in the side of the cables and cords, and the generator starting flashing dangerously. Viridescent lights glowed from the inside of the massive power core, and an alarm was already springing to life.

Self-destruction? It's my turn to get out of here.

Quietly slipping out of the core, Omnigul had already been to the core in seconds. Meeting eye contact with the Archon, the Wizard screeched furiously.

Now, she started talking in her actual tongue, any other accent gone altogether as she shouted demands, "Vinn Ärgen! Omntģul beeu an regaú!"

Sorkolis had to admit – he had no idea what they were saying now.

Turning tail to flee down the hallway, he scrambled up faster once the ship countdown started to excel at a pretty fascinating speed. Heart racing, he turned down the narrow shelving and darted for the exit.

Omnigul must have known that he was going to escape, because she simply turned around and flew to the closest opening as well, breaking free from the bonds of the countdown.

It was the time that Sorkolis returned to the other Fallen that he slowed himself down to a stop, glancing over his shoulder periodically as he watched the ship explode and crumbled to the floor with a crash.

Omnigul down below now looked half-furious, and half-petrified.

Have fun reporting that to your Master.

The Captain leapt off of his bronze Pike, cape flailing after him majestically. "They spotted you?" he demanded, crossing both sets of arms together. "You were found?"

Dipping his head, Sorkolis responded, "It would seem as such. We need to return to the Kell and report her of our finds. I'm deterred whether or not to say she will be pleased."

"Likely not. The Hive will want revenge against your actions. They could strike at any moment, as far as I know." The Captain also seemed affronted, as if Oryx himself had just shown up.

Mounting up on his Pike, Sorkolis assured the clearly-terrified warrior of the fleet, "Do not be startled. We will fight against any opposition we raise our blades against. Omnigul with likely be having problems with Crota for this anyway. From what I saw, there was vital information on that ship. Look at her – she's terrified."

It was visible even from that spot that the Hive Wizard was stunned. She trembled furiously, and from just even the look on her face, it was clear that she just as scared as a young Eliksni to his first battle.

"Ghanrudar. That much is clear," offered the Captain as he boarded back up on his Pike. "We should get out of here. Omnigul will want your head for this."

Sorkolis knew, despite how much he wished not, that the warrior's statement was true. Sighing, the Archon tapped his fingers against the holographic monitors of the Golden Pike. "Very well. If that is what you would want."

So the patrol starting making their way back to campsite for news. Of course, it was about 30 percent good news and 70 percent bad.

Yet again, with the Hive, what else was there to expect?

"That is troubling news," scoffed the Kell as she drew her lower arms together, the higher ones tapping against the arms of her Throne. "No casualties however, Sorkolis?"

The massive Archon shook his head. "No, there wasn't. But the Hive dropship is eradicated, and with it a few Acolytes. That was my doing."

"So the only thing you did was put a new target on the back of the House Kings?"

Um…

Sorkolis shook his mighty head. "Of course not! I was helping us out. Omnigul was attempting to reach her Master through the dropship comms. She started the Ritual of Awakening to summon him from his rest on the Moon."

Rikantor tipped her head one way. "How do you know this?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "You don't understand the Hive's language."

"She wasn't fluent in her own tongue, I guess. She was speaking Fallen for the time I was there. I heard some Hive shortly afterwards. She spoke enough for me to know."

The Kell snorted and perked her ears up. "If you insist. Hopefully Omnigul realizes her mistakes."

Smirking, the Archon promised, "Oh trust me. She does."

Rikantor's eyes betrayed her amusement. "Oh. That should be entertaining."

"Hope she gets punished dearly, for the Prime Servitor's sake." Sorkolis put one of his four arms on his belts, eyes twinkling in the din of the low lighting. "That is all I had yet to report to you, my liege."

Clearly the Kell would have liked him to stay, Sorkolis saw that much in her blistering gaze. "Very well," she responded, waving one of her upper appendages. "You may go."

The Archon turned and pushed open the door slightly, as always receiving thunderous glares from the Guard as he went. Shooting them the same look, Sorkolis trotted down and into the hallways beyond.

Perching on one of the steps was the Baron, fingers twined together. "Sorkolis, sir," he countered. "I have some news that you might find of interest."

Gyrating and reluctantly hesitating in the hallway, Sorkolis barked, "What is it?"

"Over the last day I went back to the Devil's camp to see what they were planning. Well… they are planning on invasion."

The Archon's heart dropped to his feet like a rock was pressed against it. Feeling a cool chill run up his spine, he demanded breathlessly, "When are they coming?"

That caused the Baron to pause.

"They should be on their way right this moment."

Sorkolis hissed, "Impossible."

The Baron shook his head. "Not, actually. You'd better go let the Guard know."

Darting back to the Kell's Chamber, Sorkolis grabbed ahold of one of the Guard's shoulders and growled, "We're under attack!"

Interest and disbelief sparked in the Eliksni's gaze. "Attack?" he asked, clearly startled. "By whom?"

"Devil Banner."

Immediately, the Guard turned for the Chamber and dashed inside, followed by two more of his own. A few seconds later, the Kell came out, shouting orders at nearby Fallen warriors.

Troops ran out of their barracks as they were ordered by their leader who they swore allegiance to.

Sorkolis dashed towards the exit and watched, as the narrow snout of a Noble Walker turned the corner towards the base of the Kings.

Fearfully, the Archon knew it would take forever to tack up what they could for the House of King's Walkers and soldiers. From the Dispatch Zone walked out a few scout teams, led by Captains towards their enemy.

That singular red laser of the Noble Walker turned to point at the Refinery's walls.

Boom!

A narrow shell collided with the metal hull of the building. Rumbles ran through the floor as the crash took place, sending a few Dregs toppling over one another. Sorkolis ran out through the Dispatch Zone, snagging ahold of his Shrapnel Launcher.

Devil troops followed after the Walker, bringing rain of fire across the base. Sorkolis snarled in hatred as he watched a Devil Captain leading a sneak patrol around.

Barreling forward to end their campaign, a few shots of a Shrapnel Launcher sent the off their feet. The Captain took two shots, but eventually he was felled in a splatter of blood. The Devil gagged for a moment before he fell into the plush snow.

Vulgantor and Yunatir were running out of the camp as well, pointing their Scorch Cannons at anyone nearby. Countless Dregs and Vandals were felled by their hand.

Sorkolis watched as the line of a Wire Rifle attempted to shut him out. Taking evasive action, the Archon whirled out of the way and ducked down beneath some cover. Shock Pistol shots rattled down the side of the metal he'd hid beneath as he avoided the glare of the Devils before him.

Stealth Vandals were creeping around the fortress as they wielded their deadly Shock Blades, pressing on in tight numbers as they did. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly – one moment talking to the Kell, now out here on the field.

Up above, another Devil Walker shot the exterior of the Refinery, and a cool thought ran down Sorkolis' spine.

They're trying to bring the whole thing down!

It wasn't like the Archon would let that happen. Stumbling forward, Sorkolis pointed his Shrapnel Launcher at the legs of the Walker, opening fire upon the metal hull.

Shuddering, the gargantuan piece of machinery turned to focus on him, releasing Shank Drones from inside of it to deliberately draw the Archon's focus away from the Tank.

Multiple rounds of fire crashed into the side of the Archon, and Sorkolis let out a pained grrrr! Using one of his lower arms to clutch his bleeding wound, the mighty warrior of the fleet continued shooting down the Shanks that threatening to rip him down.

Although he knew they would not do much, the Drones were stronger than they looked. Initially, the House of Devils would have been destroyed, but the Kings were weak and desperate at this point. Too weak to even know anymore. Too weak to care.

Vulgantor and his best friend, Yunatir, were too busy with their Scorch Cannons to assist their field leader. Vermilion blasts of their gun sent another troop of Dregs flailing through the air before landing lifelessly in the snow, crippled and deceased.

Turning its huge snout, the Devil Walker continued to bring down whatever it could of the King's base. Sorkolis growled fiercely.

More Dregs and a Captain ran down the incline of the snowy hill, aiming their Shock Pistols at the Archon, daring him to shoot. Exposing himself from the metal cover briefly, Sorkolis took down that group with his Shrapnel Launcher.

Scarlet blood flew through the air and stained the snow vermilion with life source. The Captain pulled up his own weapon and continued to bring fire; yet again he was countered with another explosive shell and rattled to the ground in a mere few seconds.

Making sure as to not cut his cape or get it stuck on something, he used his lower arms and held the adornment back as he continued to shoot down more red-colored Devils from the field.

Again, the tank launcher another bullet. Sorkolis at this point had had enough of its wrath. Charging forward through the snow, the Archon lunged at the machine viciously.

Blade met metal as the mighty warrior and Priest impaled the hull of the Walker, immediately erupted a fissure. Smoke leaked through the tears as he continued to drag his knife down the side of the heavy Tank.

Alarms on the inside of the weapon started to rattle and burn hideously. Gears grinded for power which it was losing faster. The whole thing started to swing around, not aiming correctly or standing up straight.

Ripping open another hole in the side of the Devil Walker, Sorkolis watched as the thing eventually died down, thrashing and convulsing all over the place before eventually ending down in the snow.

Cheers sounded from the Kings as they lifted their weapons with pride. But the Devils were frenzied – attempting to kill anything in sight.

Vulgantor, from across the field, was still aiming down his Scorch Cannon at anything that was stained with the color red.

Sorkolis could clearly hear a Dreg screech, "If only Drevis were still with us, that blasted traitor Skolas!"

Since they now lacked a Tank, the Devils were beginning to retreat, backing up and almost tripping in their amount of blood they had riled up. A Captain roared at the successors of the battle, as he turned the corner and fled.

From that point on, silence had muffled the hue of the midday sun.

"Let's go," breathed out Yunatir as she started heading up the slope to the King's campsite. "We still have a few days of healing ahead of us."

Sorkolis watched the two remaining Scorch Captains make their way up the path, and the Priest, still clutching his arm, followed the incline after the two. Countless bodies lay useless on the ground, devastated from the Walker.

Debris covered the ground, for as far as the Archon could see. Snorting, he asked darkly, "What happened to the inside of the camp? Is everyone alright?"

Yunatir glanced over her shoulder and shrugged helplessly. "Who knows? I just need some rest. This fight was too much, especially since I was still recovering from the border battle with Drevis from just a few days ago." Across from her Vulgantor was nodding in agreement, his Scorch Cannon slung over his shoulder. Sorkolis wished he could do something to soothe their pain, but he currently lacked any good ideas to begin with…

Using his upper arm to slam open the door, Sorkolis observed the wreckage that the Devil Walker had caused. Cargo and other things were laying over the floor.

One Dreg had a massive block of concrete over his head as he lay on the ground, a bloody smear underneath the mess of it all.

A few feet away, the Kell was pinned down with some concrete trapping her leg to the floor. Springing to her aid, Sorkolis shoved off the burden and looked at the wound, touching the indent slightly with his finger. "Are you well, my liege? Not too badly hurt?"

Wincing, Rikantor offered, "I'm fine, thank you. Just a flesh wound. How are the others?"

Casting one look back towards the Dreg that had his head crushed with a block of cement, the Archon guessed, "Alright, I suppose. We won the battle, my Kell. The Devils retreated."

"Good," praised the leader of the King Banner, receding her leg to help stop the bleeding. "This is a victory we will not take lightly. But as far as you can tell, the Walker did some damage to the inside of the building."

Again, the Archon felt his gaze rip over the walls, and he nodded. "I very well can. Let me help you up, my Kell. You must be feeling tired up to this point. You need rest. Shall I retrieve some Ether from the Servitors to feed to you?"

Rikantor shook her mighty head. "No, I do not. What I will need to assure however is the security of the Kings. We might need to move if the Devils decide to bring another Walker."

"We beat them out of here harshly. Chances are they will not return for some time. If they do, they are desperate to have us dead."

The Kell attempted to pick herself to her legs, but her eyes flitted to Sorkolis' wound. "You're hurt!" she snarled, grabbing his lower left arm with her upper ones. "Go get to the Healers, Sorkolis."

Enjoying the concern of his leader but not allowing his safety before hers, the Archon painfully yanked his arm away and bared his teeth. "You first!" he growled, pointing at her leg wound. "You need it more than I do."

Scoffing but knowing she had no choice, the Kell started to make her way down the halls, bounding over any debris in the way.

"You will heal yourself, though, right?" requested the leader of the King Banner as she turned to focus of her loyal Archon. "I do not want to waste a ton of medicine on myself when your wound is much more vicious than my own."

Sorkolis snorted. "You're not wasting it, my liege." Crossing his higher arms while his lower ones clutched each other in their agony, he added huskily, "How dare you come to think of such a response? You, my Kell, are the most vital piece of our House. If anyone is allowed to live, you are the one."

Rikantor smiled, however much it was not visible to the Archon's perspective. "Why thank you," she growled. "But we both need to heal. We can get to that in an hour's running time. If that's okay with you?"

The Archon snorted and grinned right back at her.

"Of course, my Kell."

Three days later, the Kell and her loyal Archon were healed and set up, prepared. Luckily neither of their wounds were too deep or heavily inflicted as such. Vulgantor, the Baron, Yunatir, and most Dregs, Vandals, and Captains had all recovered from the injuries as well.

Life had returned to normal, with some cleanup of course.

Sorkolis sighed as he patrolled the Halls of his beloved home. Things had been silent these past three days.

The Devils, for the most part, had not shown up again. Not a word of Omnigul, Shannu, Crota, or Guardians, either. Which was wrecking nerves in the Archon, but he set that aside.

The Baron sat down on the steps of the Kell's Chamber, sharpening his Shock Blade. His eyes flitted up Sorkolis upon his passing by of sorts.

"Any new information on the Hive?" he asked, readjusting his blade into the firm pocket on his belt.

Shaking his head, Sorkolis offered, "Not that I'm aware of. We already have Trackers on route to their locations, however. We're attempting to pick up some vital signs from Shannu and his mother, Omnigul."

"Good," assured the Baron as he got up from his previous position. "May the Prime Servitors watch over you, Sorkolis. Have you been paying attention to your wounds? No infection and whatnot?"

"No," promised the Archon as he slung his arms together. "But I failed to ask – what wounds did you receive when the Devils surged our home? Hopefully nothing too… fatal, if I may ask?"

That made the Baron also shake his head. "No. In fact, I got a bruise, but not much else. Seems I should be okay."

"Very well then, my friend. I hope you rest well."

"Thank you, sir. I intend for the best to you as you go along with your duties."

With those words of regard, the two Fallen warriors drew away from each other. Sorkolis continued to patrol the hallways, Shrapnel Launcher slung over his mighty shoulders as he walked.

It was no longer than two more steps when one of the Kell's Guard came tumbling down the path towards the Archon.

"Yes?" demanded Sorkolis as he reaffirmed his gaze on the Vandal.

"The Kell would like to see you, sir."

As the Archon gyrated, the Guard reached out with his lower right arm and stopped the traversal of his companion.

"Not that way, Sorkolis. She is on the border. We received a transmission from her just a minute ago. She is with a majority of the army on the borders. And she has requested your presence with her."

Stiffening, Sorkolis growled, "What is the Kell doing away from the safety of our reaches?"

The Guard promised, "It was on her own accord. She would just prefer it if you went off to see her. Be there soon – it's urgent."

Scoffing, the Archon made his way to the Dispatch Zone for his Golden Pike. Tacking it up and mounting on, Sorkolis rode slightly over the hills and snowy caps of the Cosmodrome. A cold breeze had stirred up the fur on his neck, and his long cape blew after him majestically as he rode along the narrow cliffs of Old Russia.

Finally, he could see the silhouette of the warriors on the peak of the alcoves and cliffs, all clustered together to keep warm. Among them all, the tallest of them, was Rikantor, and she looked worried for the time being. She noticed her Archon coming up the cliff towards her, and she couldn't hide her smile.

Pulling his Pike up to a stop, Sorkolis jumped off the heavy vehicle and crashed down in the snow, shaking off any bits of the white substance as he could from his boots.

"Is there something you would like, my Kell?" demanded the Archon as he trudged up the pathway to where Rikantor was standing, her cape flailing behind her.

The Kell dipped her head. "There very much is," she snorted, casting her eyes down the scene below her. Evening rays of the sun cast an orange glow against the armor of the leader. "Look."

Sorkolis nudged aside his leader before looking down. Standing in the pit below was the Hive. Tons of them. Lined up row after row with scimitars raised to the skyline.

Shuddering, Sorkolis turned to his leader and asked, "You will not partake in this battle, will you? You need your rest. But at least I can tell why you brought over half of the army here with you."

The Kell shook her head as she turned to the pits below, cape majestically rippling streaks of golden in the breeze. "No, I will not be here. It is too dangerous for a Kell."

Silence overwhelmed the two Fallen as they stood in the peaceful silence, observing the army down below them.

Sorkolis looked over at his leader, her eyes transfixed on the battle that was sure to come down in the pits below. Hive dropships continued to teleport in the clearing, only leaving more of the soldiers they would have to eradicate.

Finding the peace between the two comforting, the Archon turned to look at his leader for a split second, the waves of sun hitting off her armor and reflecting into the fight below. The fight sure to respond soon.

Finally, the Kell turned to look at her Archon. "I… wanted to give you this, Sorkolis," she whispered placidly, removing an adornment from off her neck and holding it out to the taller Archon.

Looking down at the ornament, the Archon reached out for it and felt it between his fingers. A few feathers lined the necklace, and printed down on it was a small totem with Rikantor's name written across the top of it.

Sorkolis enveloped the whole thing in his palm before he focused back up on his leader. "Thank you…" he murmured.

"So we can stay close… always be together. Sorkolis… I -"

A Hive Acolyte roared down below, breaking the peace between the two Fallen.

Sucking up her gut, the Kell reached for the Archon's hand and whispered, "Please be safe, my Archon."

"Of course," promised Sorkolis as he tightened his grip on Rikantor's hand.

The Kell smiled, before releasing her grip on the Archon's unyielding, massive hands.

"After all," Sorkolis continued, "What's the worst that could happen?"