The Fallen Captain slashed savagely to either side with its swords, vicious scything gestures that expressed its barely restrained anger. The twin shock blades spat arc energy as they twisted in the. With a deft twist of the wrists the Captain stabbed at two of the dozen cave mouths before the Fallen hoard. “GO!” it shrieked. “FIND!” Dozens of Dregs and Vandals rushed forward, scampering across the sand and rubble to disappear into the earth leaving the Captain and twenty of its most trusted guards in the burning sun. It panted as it watched the others disappear, vainly trying to catch its breath. [i]Dying…[/i] The pain in its chest pulsed with ever increasing intensity and there was a numbness growing in each leg, its cold grasp reaching ever further up its body. It turned back to stare at the distant Ketch. The Kell thought it was so clever, so powerful. The Captain almost laughed. [i]I can be clever too, yes?[/i] It nodded to the Fallen around it and they immediately scattered, searching around them for places to hide. The Captain grunted as liquid agony sliced up its torso. It had known what the Kell intended as soon as the orders had been issued. It was to die. The Captain hissed hatred through its respirator. It had hunted ceaselessly for the source of the corruption that had been killing its kind on this land mass, utterly focused on locating what its Kell had desired - for by doing so it would elevate itself above other Captains and be rewarded with recognition, position and power. It had dared to hope it would be the first Baron of the house, one exalted above all others. But the Kell had never intended to reward it. The Kell had an agenda of its own and its plans only benefited itself. Ravaged by whatever stained this land, the Captain ached with every breath, dreaded every shocking jolt through its bones that accompanied every footfall and knew it had little time left. It looked around and saw that the others had successfully hid themselves. [i]Oh Kell, there is still yet time for one more thing.[/i] Loyalty within the Fallen houses was a complex web of complicated weaves. From the moment its limbs were docked a Dreg was immersed in a relentless world of politics, ambition, scheming and manoeuvring. It was the way of the Fallen. Most fell by the wayside, failing to capture enough support or unable to build the right relationships to escape the Dreg ranks or a treacherous blade through the side in the midst of battle. Some were able to drag themselves forward, however, building fragile powerbases from which they propelled themselves higher in Fallen society. The Captain was one such and the Fallen with it now were those that had devoted their lives to it, knowing that without the Captain they were doomed to a meaningless existence ending in an unremembered death. Only through the Captain would they find something more. Sheathing a blade, one of its upper limbs pulled a shrapnel launcher from a harness slung across its back and passed it to a waiting lower limb before drawing the sword once more. [i]There is time for one more thing, Kell. There is time for a reckoning.[/i] The chattering of the Fallen filled the streets. Constant squawks broken by shattering glass, excited shrieks or frustrated howls created a violent soundtrack that pounded through the dead city. Mattaus ground his teeth as adrenaline-fuelled nervous energy coursed through his veins and made his skin itch. Back against the wall, hand-cannons held high with both barrels pointing at the sky, he waited impatiently to be released. The young man glanced to the building opposite and found Hausen staring back at him, a rifle held ready. He bobbed his head and received an acknowledging nod. He had understood and was thankful for the change in strategy from hiding in the underground complex to taking the battle to the Fallen in the City. He was not a man of patience and defence, content to wait for destiny’s hand to cast the die. He made his own fate. Forty men and women now hid themselves near the rail tunnel to Eden. Some peered through targeting scopes in the upper floors of broken towers, the rest crouched in the rubble between derelict buildings and behind vehicle husks waiting for the enemy to appear. [i]Forty against an army…[/i] They had taken almost everyone that could fight. Only a skeleton force had remained to protect the young as they escaped through a previously sealed tunnel leading to a small ruin of a station half-buried by the desert sands. For those that fled it would be a long anxious trek made through small halos of lantern-light in a world of absolute darkness, never knowing when the howl of pursuing Fallen would echo up the tunnel from behind them. Mattaus licked his lips. At least here he could face the enemy face to face, on his terms. “Hold until they are in ground-force range”. He ground his teeth again as Patriesen’s voice came through his ear piece. He was definitely not a patient man. Felicia took a deep breath as she heard Petriesen’s command. “Stay on target” she whispered as she exhaled, her words for herself as well as for the two men beside her. All three of them stared down their rifle scopes at selected Fallen Vandals as they weaved through the city. Her nest was one of four that together held eight of the best snipers. “Almost there”. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she smiled grimly as a Captain appeared. “Captain near the Town Hall”, she stated quietly and shifted her aim. “It’s mine”. Hausen looked away from Mattaus and rechecked his rifle before reassuringly touching the spare magazines in each jacket pocket and then the revolver tucked in his waistband. “How many do you reckon?” a woman beside him whispered. “Enough that you won’t miss”, he replied simply and looked her straight in the eyes. “Forget about their numbers”. He glanced around him, finding many of those around him now looking at him – looking to him for confidence. “Don’t think about how many there are or what they are doing or what they might be planning” he told them, his eyes moving between each of his assembled force. “Our job is to give those trying to escape a chance to live. Pick your target and kill it, then pick your next and kill that one. Aim and shoot. Aim and shoot. Do not think of anything else. Nothing else matters”. An image of Mirim eyes closed with a tube down her throat being carried into the tunnel came into his mind. [i]My Mirim…[/i] “Nothing else matters” he emphasised with a growl. “Snipers, wait for ground force check. When in range, announce the first shot”, Petriesen reminded those high above him and registered the hushed confirmations that followed. “Ground forces check”. “Unit one ready”, Gartan said in a flat voice as he wiped sweaty palms on his pants. One after another the commanders of each group announced their given unit number and that they were prepared, each only speaking after they heard the status of the unit number preceding them. Hausen looked at Mattaus again whom nodded quickly. “Unit eight ready”, he confirmed. The Guardian felt his body throb with void energy. [i]Fallen converging on all sides. Servitor ahead and to your right.[/i] The Guardian slid his fingers along the barrel of his pulse rifle as his Ghost spoke. [i]Do you remember that first battle with the Fallen in the Cosmodrome, Ghost?[/i] There was a distinct momentary pause before the Ghost spoke again. [i]I was so worried about you.[/i] The Guardian chuckled dryly before having to stifle a series of harsh wracking coughs behind a gauntlet. There was blood on his palm when he was finally able to catch his breath. He wiped it on the ground with a sigh. [i]I was worried about me too. I had no idea who I was or what was happening.[/i] He readied his weapon. [i]What happens to you when I finally die? Let’s not talk about that shall we?[/i] The Guardian shook his head. [i]Still so many secrets, Ghost. Even between us.[/i] Another pause. [i]It’s the way it must be. There are some things that you do not need to know.[/i] The Guardian shrugged. [i]It doesn’t matter now.[/i] The Guardian took a deep breath. [i]Now I am at the end I think I am a little scared. I am not leaving you.[/i] The Guardian smiled. [i]One last time shall we? Yes.[/i] “In range” Felicia stated as she watched the Captain jog forward. Petriesen’s eyes flickered to the men and women beside him. [i]Will any live through this?[/i] He banished the thought. “Fire”. [i]For Mirim and Jaspiel and everyone lost…[/i] “-blam!- you” she spat at the Captain as she pulled the trigger. “Easy!” Alfren hissed as the man carrying the front of Mirim’s stretcher stumbled on fallen rock and almost fell. The man looked up, eyes wide. “Did you hear? It’s started”. Alfren nodded, his face tight and grim. Absolute silence descended in the tunnel as everyone stopped and looked to one another. Tears filled eyes and lips trembled as hearts ached. People they loved were about to die. Alfren looked around him. There were no words to make this right. They just had to get on with things. “Let’s pick-up the pace”.