[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/257330521/0/0]Link to Chapter 4, Part 2[/url] [spoiler]All chapters of the War of Lies will be linked to the [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/257167399/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] as they are posted[/spoiler] “If you could be anywhere right now, where would it be?” Cobalt asked for anyone who was listening. “A w-warm f-fluffin’ bed,” Grepa answered instantly. “Light willing,” Dikedda agreed. “The Tipsy Cabal bar, drink in hand,” I said mine, “A warm drink. And a warm body on me.” Muss sighed audibly in disappointment. “Mars,” a new Syndicate man spoke up, “That one Bray facility that was empty as hell.” “Eating with my old man somewhere where we can pick a fight,” the mobster from earlier called back. “Venus,” Lyn went next, “Near a sea front.” “Those are acidic, y-you know,” Grepa tried being funny again. “Your extraction point,” Cobalt said, then looked straight at me, maintaining a downright friendly tone, “Holding a gun between your eyes while we take your ship.” “I’d like to see that,” I brandished my rifle. Everyone was silent and grim now, and tension hung thick between the cluster of prisoners and the ring of mercenaries. We walked like that for awhile, and to my surprise, I was the first one to grow sick of the quiet. “Where do you Syndicate guys all come from anyway?” I asked. The four of them and another Syndicate officer who was huddled close to Grepa and Lyn all looked at each other before fixing their eyes forward and continuing in silence. The rest pretended they didn’t hear. “Okay, don’t like that question,” I sighed, wracking my brain for more conversation to pass the time. “How about why? Why are you all in the Syndicate?” Dikedda tried his own question. This time everyone’s gazes ended up on Muss after they had all looked at each other. He walked quietly for a few more moments before giving in. “We were given a purpose and a home.” “The Reef Mob doesn’t give either of those…” Dikedda said quietly. I disagreed. 6 Demeter was more a home than I had ever had; even if I was never safe there, I was never safe anywhere else, either. There was a sudden clamor of noise up front, and we slowed as some people paused to look at something hidden from me beyond the slope we traversed. Shouting and pained yelps let me know that some of the Mob guys were prodding the Syndicate prisoners and each other forward, and soon we were picking up speed. Finally, my group came far enough to see past the rise. The path crossed over the ridge of the massive crater and started to descend along the outer wall. To my genuine surprise and relief, I could see the bottom of the path, which meant a quick trip down to contrast the lengthy ascent. The horizon was blocked from view by the many other crater ridges that rose from Callisto’s surface like unnatural mountain ranges. Jupiter dominated the pale sky, and many stars shone through the thin atmosphere. One might’ve thought it beautiful if they weren’t starving and still had feeling in their legs. But the view wasn’t what had made a small army of trained gunmen’s pace falter. No, it was what lay in the valley between all the craters, its metal walls barely visible against the white and grey backdrop thanks to the clots of ice that had formed over its surface. It was really just a vague box shape rising out of the snow, but even from this distance it was easy to tell that it would be massive up close. The path across the icy plains was faintly marked by tiny flags spaced at intervals many meters apart, and went straight from the base of the cliff to the building in the distance. The journey there couldn’t be more than a few more hours walking. “The hell is that place?” I questioned Dikedda, motioning towards the large structure with my rifle. “No idea,” he shrugged. “Somewhere better than the Light-forsaken tundra,” Lyn pointed out. Grepa looked giddy to get there. “Okay… hey!” I called to the mobster ahead of us as we began our trek downhill, trying not to shout. The man turned around and clearly guessed what I wanted to ask. “Word is that’s the new evac point,” he slowed his pace a little so he wouldn’t have to speak so loudly, “They’ve gotta have a ship in there.” “Ship?” I questioned, squinting at the structure again. I didn’t see any air traffic or a landing pad outside the structure, but maybe it had enough space inside to fit some spacecraft. “Don’t you think it’s weird hOW-?!” the mobster slipped, having paid more attention to me than his footing, and skidded a couple meters downhill before getting back on his feet and walking again with his eyes riveted on his feet. A lot of chuckles bounced around the small crowd, but that was the last real noise anyone made as we began the last leg of our march. Everyone could feel it: the eagerness to reach safety, warmth, and nourishment. Weak legs took stronger strides and empty stomachs wrung out the last bits of energy they could. Our speed even kept up after we reached the bottom of the descending slope and set out across the plains. All eyes stayed on the shelter ahead. The Syndicate easily kept pace with their guards in all the groups, not requiring any of the occasional prods that some of the Mob men gave them. What bothered me more than the constant cold and the pain that shot up my legs with each step were the whispers. I could never see any heads move or prove it was more than just the weak wisps of the almost nonexistent wind here, but I wasn’t about to write it off as anxiety in the last stretch of the march. These Syndicate creeps gave me the chills like the ice in my boots. I watched Cobalt, Lyn, and the other Syndicate soldiers closely, but couldn’t spot a single giveaway of what they were thinking. The officers and other soldiers were all hidden from me behind the outer row of Syndicate muscle, but I swore I heard a hushed voice just once right behind Cobalt. “Hush up!” I warned, not too loudly so as not to make a problem for everyone when none of the other Mob mercs seemed to notice the voices. It quieted for a second before I heard another mumble between the scuffs of boots on the ice, but I forced myself to leave it alone. We were almost there; that was all that mattered. Finally, we reached the compound. It was…oppressive. Towering above us and stretching far to either side as if it were a gate barring our way, the structure was covered in so much ice it could have passed as abandoned or as another one of the frosty ridges around the moon. There were only a few lights showing around the surfaces of the building’s walls to show it was even operational, including a couple of large yellow ones on either side of the massive doors that the path led us to. I couldn’t spot any normal-sized doors further down the walls, but I didn’t have the energy to go looking for any. The prisoners were all forced to their knees while we waited for the giant metal hangar doors to open. All that told us our presence was known were the cameras perched on the wall, their blinking lights barely showing through the layer of frost that coated every inch of the structure. The occasional complaint and angry shout rose up from the Reef Mob grunts, but the Syndicate maintained their silent vigil. They were really starting to spook me. It was like they still had a plan. But there was no way. They were surrounded with their weapons taken after a failed raid. This was just them holding onto that superiority complex I had heard so much about. Suddenly, there was a loud rattle that made me jump, and then came the crashing sounds of clumps of ice being shaken off the massive doors as they slowly began to pull apart. As soon as there was some elbow room, several men clad in thick winter gear slipped out of the building and pointed rifles at all of us. A few of our own gentlemen pointed their guns right back, but I just put my finger near the trigger and waited to see what happened as the gap between the doors continued to widen. Finally, their rumbling movement stopped. “No no no!” A woman’s voice tore through the still, quiet air with ease, “You were supposed to wait up on that blasted ridge!” Two more figures came out and stopped in front of our gathering, easily visible to me with the Syndicate prisoners all sitting. One wore armor padded for warmth like the other gunmen, but the woman who had spoken wore a rather expensive looking coat that seemed to keep her plenty warm. She wore a helmet so she wouldn’t die exposed to the lack of atmosphere, of course, but I could see her blue Awoken skin through its wide, clear visor. She looked too important to be on this rock. “Is that so hard to do?!” She was still going, “Was it too cold for you whelps?! I guess they’re hiring any idiot they find in the slums now!” I definitely didn’t want her finding out that most of the people here actually were just alley rats who had never seen a real firefight before this little venture. We just needed more bodies to beat the Syndicate, not the rare and expensive marksmen. Hell, I had only been in a few shootouts, never with more than a couple dozen men or aliens. [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/257369706/0/0]Link Chapter 4, Part 4[/url]