The Last Day Ta'aun was the Cabal commander who led the Skyburner assault on the Dreadnaught at the order of the Emperor himself. He failed and was taken, but his sacrifice allowed Guardians to board the ship and finish what he started, destroying the Taken King. This is his story. [b]The Week Before[/b] Even from his command center kilometers away, Ta'aun still does not escape the fight. He sees explosions in the distance. He smells the ozone of Vex particle weaponry flown in by the breeze. And he hears the far off sounds of explosion. They are senses he has long been accustomed to. "You're really going to do it?", he hears from behind. Valus Mau'ual, who has taken a rare leave from the grind, stands without his armor and blades. "Of course", Ta'aun answers without looking away from the horizon. "Life is duty, and without it we are nothing". He gives the answer any soldier would give. The only one he can. Ta'aun feels a hand on his shoulder, gentle and caring. Any other time would warrant a harsh reprimand. The battlefield has no place for affection, but this is no battlefield. He lets the hand linger, knowing it may be the last time. [b]The Last Day[/b] Now all Ta'aun hears is screaming, the cries of his soldiers falling, of Hive collapsing into ash from his bullets. He sees the Hive crawling out of every hole and oriface of this putrid ship. He sees Taken warping in from nowhere, some wearing his men like cloaks. He smells foul air of the Dreadnaught, breaching his helmet, clawing at his lungs. His assault team is being decimated, their advance slowed by an unrelenting enemy and unfamiliar surroundings. The portal cannot be far. The portal to Oryx. From out of nowhere he hears a radio from the rear guard, terrified, frantic. "[i]GUARDIAN INCOMING! We cannot stop it, it's to powerful, it's ...AAAAAAAAGH![/i]" Nothing to do now but press on. The Primus advances, his few soldiers sticking with him, even as the Taken multiply and the Hive screech and howl. Soon Ta'aun is alone as he scrambles for high ground, where he can get a better view of the battlefield, where he can rally his remaining men. But as he reaches a pedestal he sees nothing but defeat. He soldiers are being slaughtered. Others are ripped from reality then returned as enemies. Then he sees the Wizards. A dozen of them swarming the air in front of him. Chanting. Laughing. Singing. Some doing all three. For each one he kills, another takes its place. A tide of sounds he cannot end. Then the Primus feels a tug. From behind. Like a hungry jaw opening. And he realizes it's all over. Ta'aun remembers the hand of his bond brother. For one last instance, he blocks out the Wizards, the screaming, the smells of this foul air, even the Guardian he catches in his peripherals. All the he focuses on now is the last show of affection from his comrade. And for one last moment, Ta'aun is at peace. Then the jaws close and tug pulls, and all the Primus sees is darkness.