Blake Thrower stepped out of the tent, still trying to rub the soreness out of his shoulder. He once again awed at the intact hawk transport ship cradled in a perfect concave crater. “Your timing was perfect,” Blake said aloud.     “The same cannot be said about the conditions of that medical tent…” Doc replied.     “Would you knock it off?” Blake declared.     “Do you know what the probability of getting an infection in there is?!”     “How about the chances of you shutting up?” Blake asked.     Doc thought for a moment. “Considering that for every syllable I pronounce, there is a brief period of silence… it’s close to a 50% chance that I am--as you say--’shutting up’.”     “D*** you, Doc…”     “Well look who’s back on his feet?” Kendrick asked rhetorically as he and Lafayette returned from their morning patrol.     “And I suppose we have you to thank for making it through the night,” Blake said back.     “Thanks isn't required. But yes, because of us, we survived the night,” Kendrick strutted around, arms outstretched as if he was receiving the praise of an audience.     “So, what's our current situation?” Blake asked.     “Blitz,” Kendrick said abruptly.     “Yo,” the flame-painted ghost replied as he materialized beside his Guardian's head.     “Care to fill him in?”     “That depends on your definition of ‘fill him in’…” Blake shot him a look.     “With the info from our scouting jog,” Kendrick replied.     “Oh, pft. Of course I can,” Blitz turned to the cyan clad titan. “Obviously the Cabal want us dead, and they saw this ship crash--hence the hunting party last night. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but Cabal infantry relay every--single--bit of combat data to their strategists… point is, they know we killed their recon team and are likely organizing a second, larger team to come after us.     “Now, this isn't the worst place to hold a defensive, but it sure as h*** ain’t the best. There are mountains everywhere, ravines everywhere else; they have ships, we do not. If we can get to more level ground, we might be able to stand a chance with the firepower we have--but let's face it, that's not a lot. Alternatively, we might encounter another company of refugees that might--[i]might[/i]--have better armaments than a few auto rifles.”     “Bottom line is: we got to move,” Blake said after processing the information.     “Basically, yeah.”     “All right. Do you know where the pilot is?” Blake asked the group.     “Iota? I think I saw her inspecting the ship earlier,” Lafayette answered. The titan said his thanks before walking away.     Sobbing could be heard from the cockpit of the ship. “Iota?” Blake asked as he walked inside the cabin. Suddenly, the crying stopped.     A young, oriental woman peaked her head out of the door. “Yes?” she mumbled.     “Hello. I don't believe we've met, I’m--"     “I know who you are--you’re the defender that kept us from crashing,” the woman said while wiping her eyes. When she raised her arm up, a subtle particle effect seemed to shadow her movements.     “Okay. Call me Blake,” the titan said while at a loss of any other words.     “You never should've had to do that, I should've had better control!” Iota slid against the wall until she was curled up in a ball, crying. Once again, a trace of particles followed her movements.     “That wasn't your fault. Whatever the Cabal did to our Light, it happened to all of us--not just you.”     “Says the defender that was still able to make a Ward of Dawn…” It became apparent that Iota's facial movements did not match the words she was saying, it seemed like there was a lag. “What?” Iota asked when she caught Blake staring at her. She waved her fingers in front of her face, then gasped. “Oh God, you weren't meant to see that!” Iota hopped to her feet, ran into the cockpit and slammed the door shut.     Suddenly, a bronze ghost with four wing-like projections appeared in front of Blake. “Hello, Mr. Titan. My name’s Icarus, Iota's ghost.”     “Hello,” Blake said back.     “Yeah, there's no need to ask--this happens rather frequently. Iota is actually an exo. She only appears human because of the nanotechnology.”     “Nanotechnology?” Blake echoed; his mind was suddenly flooded with images of humanoid constructs made entirely of SIVA, and of the warlock that built them.     “Oh yeah!” Icarus exclaimed. “They make up her entire body. However, using nanotech for exos is still a relatively new practice--only about a year or so of development--so there are still the occasional glitches.”     “Icarus!” Iota screamed.     “I should--yeah…” the ghost vanished.     A moment later, Iota stepped out of the cockpit. Her movements were cohesive, unlike before. “I’m sorry you had to see… [i]that[/i].”     “It's fine,” Blake said kindly. “I came to talk to you about this ship.”     “Yeah? What about it?”     “Can you fly it?” Blake asked. Suddenly, a look of woe washed over her as her eyes darted around.     “I… I can't be responsible for another crash,” Iota declared.     “Ma’am, that wasn't your fault. The--"     “Yes it was!” Iota shouted. “You’re gonna say it’s the Cabal’s fault for stealing our Light, but [i][b]it is[/b][/i] my fault! I should've been able to fly it still, land it at least; but no, I fell unconscious while flying… and [i]you[/i] had to save us.”     “Iota, baby, you need to calm down,” her ghost said soothingly.     “Calm down? Calm down? Icarus, do you know how many lives I put at risk?” the woman asked.     “The same amount of lives you delivered from the Tower,” the bronze ghost replied. Her gaze softened, but for only a moment.     “And it's those same people that are counting on you to get us out of here,” Blake added; that only upset Iota more.     “What makes you think they're willing to count on me after this?! Why would they?”     “Because you got them this far, just fine.”     “Yeah, just before I almost killed them…”     “You didn't kill anyone, Iota,” Icarus stated.     “But if we stay here much longer, we'll be in trouble. The Cabal are looking for us, and when they find us, they will kill us,” Blake said in a much colder voice.     “Then you should go find another pilot,” Iota declared.     “You absolutely will not fly this ship?” Blake asked.     “How could I possibly say ‘yes’?”     Icarus flew around so he could look her in the eyes. “Iota--”     “Don't,” Blake ordered. Icarus spun around and shot the titan a cold stare. “If she won't fly, don't force her. If I can find someone else to pilot this thing, she can ride back here with everyone else; if I can't… I don't know.” Blake walked out of the darkness of the cabin and into the blinding midnight sun. Iota curled back up and wept some more.