[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/246624086/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] The Warlord sat down on her throne, thoughtfully propping up her chin with a metallic hand. Her guards took up their positions beside her. "What'll you do with ‘im, m'Lady?" One asked, interrupting her meditation. "We’ll need to test the credibility of his story,” she replied pensively, “If the Fallen really have started conducting full-scale attacks this far west, then we need to know. They could wipe out the entire region if we aren’t ready. He said he went due west. Alan, take the jumpship east past Rotan’s and Natalia’s sectors. See if you can find his town, but be careful." "Yes, m'Lady," the guard bowed then hustled out of the room. After a moment, the second guard spoke, "And if he's tellin' the truth, my Lady?" • • • Derik looked up when the Warlord entered. "When you said you'd be back, I thought you meant in a few hours," he chatted, "I didn't think I'd have to wait a day and a half." "I have more important matters to attend to," the Exo retorted, "Now you will answer my questions." Derik settled against the wall expectantly, and she began with questions to confirm that he remembered the tale he had told, "Let’s see if I remember your story correctly. Remind me, what’s your name?" "Derik Magnate," Derik answered. "What town are you from?" "Wehwalt." The Exo gave him a trick question, "And your mother died last winter?" "Two winters ago, my Lady," Derik corrected, "Of fever." "What was the mayor's name?" "Willis." "And the mayor controlled the town with hired gunmen?" "Yes." "Then the Fallen attacked, supposedly killing your father and everyone else?" "My Pa was killed by Willis's men years ago." "Were you the only survivor from Wehwalt?" She persisted. "As far as I know." "So you traveled alone?" "Yes." "How long did it take you to get through the mountains east of here?" Derik gave her a quizzical look, "There were no mountains." "Did you encounter anyone before us?" "No." "Liar," the Warlord declared, revealing a spark of anger and dispensing with the simple questions, "You claim to have gone through the heart of Lord Rotan's territory unnoticed." "You're the only people I found," Derik insisted. "But you were looking for me," she pressed. "I was looking for any people I could find." "Liar," the Exo repeated, "You wanted to speak with me. Who told you I was here?" "No one. I didn't know, I just wanted to find anyone who could help me." "No," the Warlord countered, "You asked to speak with the person in charge, me, the Warlord." "I wanted to meet whoever was in charge," Derik said, staying calm and keeping up with the onslaught of questions and accusations. "Why?" Derik held up his hands defensively, "I already told you: to ask for your help." The Exo relented, returning to her icy demeanor, "Help fighting the Fallen, correct?" Derik's face became set with hardened determination, "Yes. But not just that. I know one Warlord can’t beat them. We need more people. Humanity needs to stop fighting itself and fight the aliens." • • • The Warlord studied the body at her feet. The man lay on his back, unquestionably dead and decomposed to a barely-recognizable condition. His stomach was cut open, letting decayed guts and dried blood spill out onto the dirt. Insects infested the carcass, feeding off of it. The state of rot and unbearable stench indicated that he'd been dead for awhile. She scanned the other corpses surrounding it. Many people, all killed by blades and in similar conditions. The entire town was like this; every passage filled with carnage. Her thick cape stirred in the wind as she strolled among them, and the flies made fruitless attempts to swarm into her armor. She passed the burned-out husk of a house and stopped in a dusty square, between two pillars. In front of her rested a large, ramshackle structure. It's frame and foundation were disastrous, resulting in a crooked and slanted form resembling a child's drawing of a wooden boat. There was no doubt that it was the place Derik had spoken of. Wehwalt. "We found one, m’Lady," a man grunted, delicately stepping around a pair of bodies. The Exo followed him wordlessly down a road, where another man was kneeling over a corpse that was different from the others. She stood over it, taking in the red banners and light armor of the four-armed creature. "A Vandal," the kneeling man determined, waving bugs away from his face, "There's one more on the next street. Killed by guns, but we haven't found a single weapon." "You won't," the Warlord said, "They've picked this place clean. Even the pockets of their dead." The men nodded understandingly. "What do we do?" One asked, indicating the remains of one of the villagers. "Leave them," the Exo commanded, "A burial will only waste time and risk us being discovered." "Yes, ma'am," the kneeling man huffed, standing and looking around, "What do you make of all this, m'Lady? That stranger check out?" "No one could fake this," the Warlord disclosed, referring to the massacre around them, "But he could still be a spy. We have no way of knowing what else happened to him or what he really wants. There's no reason to trust him, yet." With that she turned and paced away, followed by the other two. They made their way out of Wehwalt. Their jumpship sat in a clearing between the town and a thicket of trees. As they crossed the space, something caught the Warlord's eye. One man lay in the clearing, halfway to the tree line. Thomas, if Derik's account was accurate. Not taking any more time to dwell on the forsaken mass grave, the Exo boarded her transport. The search party had quickly found Wehwalt and confirmed the town hall to match the one Derik had described. She had known about it when she interrogated him, but had yet to tell him. And she had wanted to see it for herself, to make sure it wasn't staged. This knowledge was a useful tool to her. If Derik thought she doubted every word he said, even when she believed him, he would grow desperate and eventually reveal any hidden motives. [i]Humanity needs to stop fighting itself and fight the aliens.[/i] She hadn't known how to react when he’d said that, so she had left Derik in his cell without another word. He was right about one thing: he had thought of many theatrical lines. Had he meant what she thought? Did he really think he could get humanity to unite? Even with their common enemy, the aliens threatening to conquer Earth, it was impossible. People weren’t so reasonable. They were too busy cutting each other’s throats. And yet… She shook her head. She was beginning to consider the idea. Such thoughts were only madness. She knew there was no hope of defeating the Fallen. She didn't even know if he had a plan, or if he really wanted what he said, but found herself planning out her options for pursuing his goal. He wasn’t the first person to suggest such an idea to her. Maybe the seed had been planted in her then. Maybe it had poisoned her mind; made her want to try it despite her better judgment. The Warlord clenched her fists, furious. With herself. With that man.