[i]Let’s do this.[/i] The Guardian leapt from his hiding place, vaulting over the partial, broken, rusted carcass of a gas tanker and into the midst of two dozen suddenly startled Fallen. He ignored the blasts of arc energy that spat around his armoured body and threw a vortex grenade at a group of Dregs and a smoke bomb at the nearest Vandal. The Dregs howled as they were trapped in the vortex created by the grenade, shrieking as energy lashed their bodies and tore at their vitality. In moments they were all down, limbs twitching as they died. The Vandal screeched as the smoke bomb attached itself to its arm. It vainly tried to pry the device off in the second before it detonated, knocking it from its feet and filling the air with dark noxious fumes that staggered those nearby as the deadly smoke invaded their respirators. The Guardian's pulse rifle swung up as he dropped to a crouch and with a sharp clatter of shells the Hunter laid waste around him. Dregs heads exploded with precision shots and Vandals span as broken marionettes as the weapon punched through their armour. A burst of audible machine code heralded the arrival of the Servitor and the Hunter desperately rolled to one side as a blast of energy came hurtling towards him with its characteristic whistling drone. The tanker shell exploded, corroded metal slicing into the remaining Fallen desperately scattering away from the Hunter. Dark energy spider-webbing and sparking with intensity over his body, the Guardian launched himself into the air. His legs curled underneath him as he manipulated the power of the Void, forcing it to submit to his will. Energy coalesced in his hands and he twisted and pulled that energy, forming a dark bow. Fingers grasping the writhing power of the Void, he pulled and dragged a glittering lethal arrow into existence. As if sensing its fate, the Servitor frantically span and spat energy chaotically in every direction as it tried to hit the would-be assailant and save itself. Screaming defiance the Hunter released his arrow of energy. It leapt forward, spearing the Servitor through its central eye. The machine jolted at the impact and shook violently as Void energy washed over its frame. The dark power was not content with just its sole floating victim however and as if alive it lashed out and eagerly sought out additional targets. Lines of Void energy burst from the Servitor, snaring nearby Fallen and enveloping them in cocoons of writhing death. They howled as they were caught, many dropping weapons as they struggled to break free. The Guardian growled and let loose with his pulse rifle. Vandals stumbled and Dregs span as shells punched through arms and thighs. They desperately fought to recover, claws flexing anxiously as they tried to bring to bear any weapons they still held or were near to hand. The guardian was faster. Helmets and skulls exploded all around him as he span to left and right spraying tight bursts of precisely targeted death. The Servitor continued to struggle against its bonds of void energy, blasts of electronic rage bursting from its shaking frame. The last Vandal fell as the Void anchor finally dissipated and the mechanical orb fuelled by hate was able to focus its lense at him. It found a pulse rifle aiming directly into its core. In moments only dead bodies and the broken remains of the Servitor littered the ground. Panting, the Hunter staggered to lean against a broken wall and tried to catch his breath. He ached all over, his skin incredibly sensitive so that every movement of his armour ignited a sharp prickly itchiness across his body. [i]Twenty Dregs and Vandals coming in fast[/i], his ghost reported calmly. Gritting his teeth, the Guardian jogged forward to meet them. Cayde-6 leant against the railing in the hanger bay. Humans and Frames criss-crossed the large space refitting and repairing jump ships and Sparrows worn through use throughout the solar system. The Vanguard watched a silver Sparrow cough a plume of red Martian dust as it was started, sending those working on it hurrying away and coughing into their sleeves. He watched a Frame struggle to carry a heavy jump-drive component removed from a ship that had already departed and his eyes tracked another that mopped the floor where an oil leak had lay. The hanger was always busy. Guardians came every hour of the day and night and with them came a thousand tasks, a thousand needs that had to be assessed, scheduled and actioned. Those that strived to fulfill those needs in turn created a thousand-thousand requirements that needed to be managed by others and so it went, a ceaseless cycle of need and activity. By contrast Cayde was an oasis of inaction. His eyes were the only things that moved. They sought out a specific prize, a specific solution for his needs. He found it as an orange and grey jump ship sitting silent and alone. [i]Phaeton-class[/i], he identified and suddenly streams of logistical data appeared to the right of his vision and a small blueprint appeared as an icon on his left. Subconsciously he disregarded the information and it disappeared. He traced the vessel’s outline and as he did, integrity statements of its hull condition flashed over its frame. It was a little battered, but nothing too serious. He remotely logged into The Tower mainframe – something he was not supposed to be able to do - and accessed the hanger maintenance records. The ship was low priority and would not be looked at for hours. Cayde’s eye lenses sparkled. [i]I shall call you Matilda.[/i] Felicia cursed as a bolt of arc energy surged towards her, weaving and sparking in the air as it sought her. She just managed to duck behind cover before the blast from the shock rifle flashed through the space where her head had been. Leaning against the broken pitted stone that was the last remnants of the upper-story room she had been stationed in, she closed her eyes and hid from the torrent of arc energy blasts that followed the first. As she hid, her hands moved without conscious thought and reloaded her sniper rifle with mechanical precision. Finally the enemy fire subsided and after a moment’s pause she peered back over the edge. The Fallen were everywhere. They rushed through the city and from Felicia’s vantage point the armoured aliens with their accompanying Shanks and Servitors looked like brightly coloured gleaming beetles surging through the streets and alleyways like some legendary plague, relentless and unstoppable. The blasts from their weapons and the resulting explosions lit up the pre-dawn darkness so much that the city appeared completely illuminated as if the power that had failed so long ago had suddenly been reactivated. By comparison the defenders were as broken rags, scattered throughout the city and hurled aside by the power of the Fallen assault. All coordination and formation had collapsed and now each group of men and women fought desperately for their lives against obvious overwhelming odds. As Felicia watched, a dozen Vandals rushed a handful of defenders sheltering within the ruins of a small shop. Two women jumped up to hammer the aliens with auto-rifle rounds and succeeded in knocking one down, but then the others were amongst them, blades swinging. It was over all too soon, the aliens leaping away from their massacre to find more humans to kill. She swung her rifle over the wall, took aim and fired. One of the Vandals with blood dripping from its blades dropped abruptly, but its comrades ignored its lifeless corpse and continued on their bloody quest. Felicia felt no satisfaction. This was no victory. She searched for another target. It was all that she could do.