~ Part Three here: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/174945547/0/0 ~ - Part Four - Bardo-105 sat cross-legged on the ground. He pulled out his knife with his left hand and calmly scraped the plastic covers on his right shoulder. Under them he found two holes the size of fingers. His left thumb found the front cavity easily, but his index crepitated as it snapped off an edge three or four times before finding the second gap. He drove his fingers hard into the buttons inside the openings. His shoulder jerked and a cover flap blasted away to let out a gust of steam, liquid water and pressurized air. His arm fell to the dirt nonchalantly. He felt unbalanced and something he would describe as nauseated. His gaze was light and empty. Struggling, he tugged at his helmet with just his left hand and removed it with a grunt. When Ghost turned he looked up and asked, "[i]how long?[/i]" "[i]10 seconds[/i]," said the Ghost, "[i]reception's really bad in here[/i]." When the new arm finally transmatted, Bardo-105 knifed the plastic cover and film wrap and pulled it out eagerly. He adjusted the arm's position and nested it into his bare shoulder, but it wasn't on-line yet. Now came the worst part. Docking a new limb was akin to sustaining a physical trauma that could turn a human brain to pulp. No matter how many arms and legs he tried on, Bardo-105 never got used to it. All he needed to do was pull the blasting cap string and the docking would begin. He shook his head and yanked the red lead off. The capacitors coupled, the open circuits shorted, the lubricant mixed, the chemicals in his artificial blood sizzled, the coolant sent icy spikes through his spine. He went to his knees, his left hand clutching fiercely, and howled at the midday sun. When he got himself together, he looked at Ghost miserably. "[i]Lord Shaxx signed a lot of these orders[/i]," the Ghost said, distracted as if his mind was somewhere else, "[i]It says here to hold on to the old arm. Says you'd understand.[/i]" "[i]Smart[/i]," said the Hunter, with a wary smile. He rose and picked up his broken arm. "[i]Why?[/i]" "[i]Ballistics,[/i]" said Bardo-105 as he looked over to the West with his ripped arm in his hands, "[i]Tex Mech is old school - they still use gunpowder and lead. Did Cayde-6 brief you?[/i]" "[i]He did. So," said the Ghost, "what's the plan?[/i]" "[i]Can you superpose a dense cryptochannel to C6's Ghost?[/i]" "[i]Not from here. What are you thinking?[/i]" "[i]We gotta fix that first, then. There's your plan[/i]." Bardo-105 started moving back to the ruined buildings. His new arm did not have custom rotors, so it clanked and clobbered as he walked. Ghost hurried to follow. "[i]Hey, wait![/i]" he said as he got in front of the Hunter. "[i]While I agree a comm-link would be beneficial, I do not see why it has to be dense-encrypted... not to mention quantic![/i]" "[i]Why, Ghost[/i]," the Guardian said almost mocking it, "[i]did you forget not even Darkness can break quantum entanglement?[/i]" "[i]I don't see why you'd want that right now[/i]," said the Ghost with a neutrality that made the irony ambiguous. They had been following the old blood trail for a while in silence, with only the soft clinking of the Exo's new arm, until the Ghost broke it, "[i]This is kind of nice, you know.[/i]" The Hunter looked at him amiably, and made his new arm clap and clank once again by flicking the wrist. "[i]Excepting mutilation and theft, of course[/i]," continued the Ghost, "[i]but I can't remember the last time we went for a quiet walk like this[/i]." The Guardian immediately thought of, like, 5 replies, from "[i]maybe if you'd shut up from time to time[/i]" to "[i]you're right, we could use some more quality time.[/i]" But he said neither. As Bardo-105 was beginning to mouth his next comeback, They were bending a corner around a collapsed wall. He noticed the blood trail led up to a ruined building, and inside was a large electrically operated blastdoor. The thing must have been 4 meter wide and about 2,5 meter tall, all shut with multiple layers of sliding caps and flaps. If that walk was a quiet one, well, it just got quieter. In addition to an immense pool of blood at the base, the blast cover itself was smeared red with hand and finger marks where someone had clawed and bled and scraped at the junction of the two sliding caps that reinforced the door. Whoever had his revolver was able to force open a military grade blastdoor, get inside, and close it. The sight of it was horrifying, and the relentless early afternoon sun added an eerie, uncanny vibe to the scene. "[i]Where would this lead?[/i]" the Ghost asked, perplexed at the sight of post-Collapse technology deep in the Frontier. The Guardian slid out his knife with a spin and stuck it in the space between the sliding caps and tried to pry it open. It wouldn't budge. "[i]Not my tomb, I hope,[/i]" remarked the Guardian. "[i]Can you see why we need that comm-link now?[/i]" The Ghost sighed, "[i]Power, honor, knowledge, glory. People die for those things. Hunters will die for a gun. The dead don't fire. You know that[/i]." The Hunter took a time to gape at the gory mess, still being bathed in sunlight saturated with the greenery that populated the ruins. "[i]Not a gun[/i]," said Bardo-105, without the slightest hint of offence, "[i]but we'll die before we drop a dare. And bets don't die. You know that[/i]." ~ Feedback appreciated. Hope you like it. ~ ~ Table of Contents : https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/175908765/0/0 ~ ~ Part Five here: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/176812765 ~