[i]The blood of the innocent and the weak will always be spilled before the blood of the guilty and the wicked…[/i] -A fallen Guardian Greer’s eyes fluttered open, but his vision was blurred. The liquid that ran into his eyes was his own blood, sweat, and anguish. It burned and stung, but he blinked several times and ran a dirty coat sleeve across his brow. Once he regained his focus, he saw the windshield of the escape pod. Still intact, amazingly, however cracked and shattered it may have been, it was still intact. He could smell the engine's coolant as it sprayed hot steam into the air; the fuel reserve leaked and mixed with the coolant to produce a pungent, offensive odor inside of the cabin. There was a large gash in his forehead that caused Greer to grab the emergency first-aid kit, and it was this large gash that caused Greer to disinfect it, dress it, and apply pressure to slow the bleeding. It felt superficial and Greer knew that all head wounds, no matter how minor in seriousness, bled like a bitch. He coughed and heaved as the vapors traveling through his nostrils became too much to bear. Another small compartment produced a helmet that all of the Guardians wear, along with a thermo-insulated, body temperature regulating jumpsuit, and matching gloves. In the cramped quarters, he stripped as quickly as he could so that he could re-dress in his new garb. Greer popped the helmet on and as soon as it came into contact with the suit and formed an environmental seal, the HUD sprung to life and a rush of cool, sterile air gently blew across his face and filled his helmet. Several minutes passed before Greer was able to wrench the door to the tin can open, but once it budged an inch, the hatch flung open in an unexpected whirl and sent Greer spilling out of the cabin and helmet first into a snowy bank. Angrily, he rose to his feet and stretched his battered bones, and surveyed his surroundings. The surface was completely blanketed in white, fluffy, freezing snow. The howling wind sent the snow swirling and stinging across the barren landscape, and even though Greer had no clue as to what planet he was on, he still had hope; he was alive. He pressed a button that was on the side of his helmet and held it in for several long seconds. “Automatic Integrated Internal Computing Equipment online and fully operational, sir, welcome. We hope you are having a pleasant day. What can we help you with?” It was a robotic female voice, and for one short-lived moment, it made Greer think of QX-1. “I need all of my vitals displayed on my HUD, I also want a full biometric scan on my body, internal and external.” Greer gave the orders to the helmet’s computer and it registered immediately. “Sir, your request has been granted. The requested data will be displayed automatically for you. A full biometric body scan has been conducted and completed successfully. We are happy to report that you are free of any terminal illnesses, diseases, or injuries. A minor exterior wound has been detected, but nothing fatal is present.” Greer let out a slow breath of relief before he said, “Good. Now, tell me where I am.” “I am sorry, sir, but your request cannot be completed as ordered. Our database is limited to planets in the Earth’s solar system and very few planets in the neighboring Andromeda Galaxy.” “F*ck,” Greer swore softly to himself. That meant he was a long long way from home. “Can you, at least, scan the planet for other signs of life? Give me a 50-mile radius of my current location.” “Computing…….negative. There are no other life forms that match your genetic makeup and/or heat signatures. However, our scans did detect a faint electrical current, possibly a generator. Would you like a landmark placed on your HUD for you? This will calculate the estimated distance to the marker as well as provide a calibration of your compass.” “Well, it’s a start. Set the landmark and let’s go.” Before Greer set off, he moved back into the pod and dug through the remaining compartments that he didn’t open yet. He came back out with a pistol in his hand. It was a pre-Collapse flare gun. Heavy and clunky, and with only one shell, Greer shoved it into a leather strap holster that was attached to his right leg. A tiny prayer went through his head, but he hurriedly shook it from his mind. There is no God, and looking to a higher power for answers is the best way to get yourself killed...especially on an alien planet. [i]Death to the Wolves: Chapter Index[/i]: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/184038227/0/0