Ziarik
Branches slapped against his helmet and chest as he pelted through the trees. All thought of caution was lost in his urgency. His ghost and the boy followed close behind. He was surprised to find that the young one could keep up with him. Apparently what he lacked in stealth was not a reflection of his ability to run. In the corner of his eye his ghost flew up next to him.
"At this rate we will be there in approximately five minutes."
"What are we dealing with here?"
"Prime servitors are the machine gods of the Fallen. There is one for each Fallen house. They give their house archon guidance and in return receive some sort of life essence from their Fallen charges. Some say that the prime servitors feed off of the souls of Fallen warriors."
"Are they dangerous? I never thought I'd ever hear Kilia sound worried like this."
"I'm not surprised. She is one of the few survivors of a raid to take out the prime servitor of the House of Kings in Old Russia. Many guardians died in that raid and the prime servitor still lives to this day."
Ziarik tucked and rolled under a low branch then lept over a log. His feet hit the ground and he let his body fall into a crouch, pausing there while his heart slowed. He tried to calm his thoughts as he waited for the boy to catch up. Terror washed over him as he thought about the danger that lay ahead.
Normally, he did not fear the creatures of the dark. Fallen and Hive soldiers had become so commonplace this close to Earth that he did not fear going into battle with them. This was different. This was something he wasn't prepared for.
Samuel ran up, breathless. Ziarik could see how tired he was and how much the tragedy of this day had worn on the boy.
"I need you to stay with the boy Ghost. He needs you to watch over him while I'm helping Kilia."
The boy looked affronted, "I can take care of myself!"
His ghost jumped in, "You'll need me in this battle Ziarik. A prime servitor is no small matter. You'll require tactical intelligence during combat."
Ziarik frowned. He did not like leaving the boy to fend for himself, but they were both right. He would need all the help he could get. Hopefully by staying in the trees the boy would avoid the combat.
He nodded his consent as he turned to push through the last few steps of foliage into the clearing beyond.
"Kilia, we are here."
Será
The Kestrel-class XO1 was not the fastest jumpship in the sector. It did not have the best armor, nor did it have the stealth drive of its cousin the ZR4. For all of the things it lacked, it made up ten-fold with its maneuverability. Stories were told of guardians who raced Kestrels through the city of Freehold, dodging skyscrapers and slipping through alleyways with ease. However, the trees of Old India were not skyscrapers.
Alarms blared as the collision warning system painted the screen red with symbols. Even with her ghost making corrections to their trajectory she knew they wouldn't last long among the vines and branches of the encroaching forest.
"We need to get out of here."
"I know, I know!" Será growled, "The trees are hemming us in."
"I told you flying amongst them was a bad idea."
"Less finger-pointing, more exit-finding!"
Her screen suddenly lit up with a splash of gold. A series of rectangles appeared, guiding her toward a hole in the canopy. Será banked hard, rolling her ship sideways and sliding around a tree. She watched the guiding system closely for any deviations in her flight pattern. She weaved and dodged through the tree trunks. Small branches slapped against her hull as she raced forward. The bright sunlight blinded her as she burst through the trees. She breathed a long sigh of relief as she coasted to a stall and put the ship into hover.
"You're welcome!" her ghost said gleefully.
"Ok now Brain. Nobody likes an ostentatious ghost."
Outside she saw nothing but a sea of green. The whole purpose for diving beneath the canopy was to attempt to locate a landmark that would lead them to the village center. However, the village was so well hidden amongst the trees that it was impossible to see from the air. Now they were more lost than ever.
"Ziarik," she called out over the coms, "I need you to activate your tracker."
Every guardian had a beacon that they could plant in the ground in order to call other guardians to their aid. Most chose not to use them for egotistical reasons, but they were incredibly useful when a fireteam got separated and needed to regroup.
There was static, then gunfire, then Ziarik's voice, "Ok, tracker is active. Get here now!"
Será glanced down at her radar, waiting for the blip that would signal Ziarik's tracker. Her screen remained blank.
"Ziarik, the trees must be blocking your signal. Is there any way you can boost it?"
Static was her only answer.