[b]"Complications."[/b] "This place is a dump, man..." Bishop muttered as they continued down the cluttered, ruined urban street. "Thought the City was bad. Makes me appreciate Sweeper Frame a hell of a lot more. I mean, who's in charge of decor around here? Mud. Something made of mud, that really likes mud." They'd been moving through the ruins for three days now. The job was to land on the outskirts---as far out as possible---and get into the city to investigate either on foot or by sparrow. At first, it had gone approximately as he thought it would; they'd landed, Fault's Sparrow malfunctioned, and they were attacked by Fallen. The battle was won, the Sparrow was fixed, the day was relatively routine. It was the two days since that were odd, and had everyone so on edge that the obligatory squad banter had mostly tapered off. He tried to keep it going. As a Hunter, he felt as though being the locus of adventuring personality was left to him. Someone had to remain stylish, even under stress. No one could do that better than him. Doss was alright, but didn't quite cut it. "What'd'ya know about this scrap heap, Fox? You've always got something halfway interesting about all the places we halfway care about. Rahool ever decrypt you a Philadelphia Subway Schedule from April of the year [i]ha-ha- you thought this would be useful once decrypted[/i]?" "...get a lot of things from that year." Ricochet mumbled, easily audible through Bishop's helmet speakers despite being a few yards ahead of him. They'd been moving along carefully, ever since the scream. Loose exploring had fallen away to tight groups, formations, checked corners. The big man was on edge, and it was contagious. He at least tried to participate in the dialogue, though. Bishop made a mental note to forget to thank him later for that. [i]There'll be a later. We got this.[/i] "Yeah, me too." Wally added. "I don't know much." Fox finally replied. Bishop's helmet helpfully simulated directional sound, so he knew she was to his left. Right beside Fox was not his favorite place to walk, but he had not choice. They chose a flexible wedge formation---Ricochet at the front, Wally and Fault offset a bit behind him. Doss, Fox, and himself made up the back line. The best distance shots among them. Fox held the center of the formation, and doubled as rear guard. So there was no choice to opt out of standing beside the most explosive-inclined Awoken he'd ever met. "I know it was a large city. Not quite so... damp when it was last populated. Very few records of it during the collapse. That I've gotten my hands on anyway." "If Fox can't find a way to get something she shouldn't have, it probably just doesn't exist at all." Ricochet muttered again. "I do know, however, that this is where some of you lot were discovered. Ricochet. Fault. Bishop. Eagle, our absentee." Fox added with a matter of fact tone. "See? Transportation schedules are a bit too... [i]legal[/i] for her to have stumbled across..." Ricochet, muttering again. "What was that?" Fox, with a sharp rise of challenge on her voice. "Movement." Doss broke in suddenly. "Twelve o'clock high. See it?" Bishop stopped moving. He didn't need to look ahead of him to see Ricochet's raised right had, balled to a fist, signaling a full stop from the whole group---he knew him too well to be surprised by it, or need a cue. "Shrieker." Fox whispered out. "Doss, Bishop, get glassy." Ricochet, briskly spoken. "Wally, Fox, Fault. On me. Get low." They moved. Bishop didn't have the chance to see the others move. He didn't have a reason to see them. He had his directions, and he knew what he needed to do. The street was cluttered---abandoned cars, debris from crumbled buildings spilling out into the road. The pavement was almost determinedly uneven. There was a sort of grime about the entire environment, a caked on evidence of disrepair. Everything crunched, and only the surest footing stood a good chance at not placing weight on something that would crack on crumble. The city had flooded sometime after the collapse, and never quite dried up. The new swampland made an advanced city which relied upon subterranean transportation tubes and conduits for wiring and communications an unnatural sink hole. Slow going for anyone or anything to progress through. Slow wasn't an option for Bishop. Slow wasn't why he was there. He knew the four called up front would find their cover, find a place to hunker down and entertain the threat so that he and Doss could do their jobs. When he ran, it was as though the world moved beneath him. A smooth rush as his legs propelled him along, helped by powered armor and rapidly shifting field actuators. When he reached the side of the road, hopped up onto a rusted out car roof, and quickly scanned for a way into the mess of barely-erect buildings nearby, he didn't need to give a thought or pause before leaping upward toward a window. He couldn't make that jump in one bound. But he didn't need to. His cape trailed along behind him, fluttering---and then flexing, almost imperceptibly moving against what would have been caused by natural wind resistance, and then responded to his will for more height by bending his forward momentum and downward arc upward once again. The feeling of weightlessness always tickled his spine. The feeling of crashing through the somehow still intact window was... Well, nothing at all. He didn't feel it. It didn't scratch his shielding in the slightest. Hitting the floor inside the building, he rolled once end over end. Felt his left boot touch something which felt unsteady, and with deft agility shifted so that when he came up on his feet he'd be standing on one of the beams running beneath the floor rather than between them where they crumbled. Loose flooring shifted beneath his right foot as he came up. He wound up kneeling, one palm and one knee on the ground. Recently shattered glass lay scattered before him where it hadn't fallen down to the level below. Most of it was barely reflective. Dirty. That which was still clean enough to be reflective caught the light from outside, reflecting the daylight gray in misshapen angles on the ceiling. None of them reflected him. Even when he darted into movement again, crossed their path to the light outside, those shapes on the ceiling were undisturbed and the light was blocked none at all. The light passed right through him. He was gone, invisible. He was impressed at his own swiftness, a blur through the crumbling structure. The world slid by, and then became a series of flashed slides. He blinked from point to point without thought, without worry. His body, his equipment, knew where to go. Hunters know the wild, and he was the wildest thing the world had to offer. And the best looking. [i]Shame no one can see me.[/i] [b]Boom.[/b] An explosion from outside. Dim to his awareness. He knew what he needed to do, he knew how to solve their problem. They were doing their job. He would do his. "I'm up high." He heard Doss report. To the team, through his helmet microphone. "Eyes on... dozens. Our favorite Wizard isn't here though. Contacts are dug in at that crosswalk. Right under the Shrieker. They were waiting for us." [url=http://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/90336484]Part Two![/url] ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Just wanted to slap a big thanks for everyone who has read and given feedback. You're all cool people. Destiny community definitely has a bright side.