"Calling in my ride, I'll see you back at the Tower." Grinning beneath my helmet, I offer a jaunty wave to the two Warlocks I've just finished a patrol through the Rust Yards with.
"Your assistance was most appreciated, Light see you home, friend." The one Warlock says gravely before she and her comrade disappear in the flashing light of a transmat field.
I nod to myself and turn, pausing to take in the stark beauty of this world, the dust blowing across rusted hulks of ancient war vehicles, both familiar and alien to my reborn eyes. Sighing and shaking my head at the desolate landscape, I call upon my Ghost and ask it to scan a metal cannon that seems to be in slightly better shape than the rest as I wait for my ship to come into transmat range.
Somewhere deep in my subconscious a part of me still remembers the struggle to survive, to fight alone in the wilds, deep in dangerous territory. [b]Take what you can find, if it doesn't save you today it could save you tomorrow.[/b] The echo of an old man's voice plays in my mind and I furrow my brow, then glance down at the knife I've subconsciously started to twirl through my gloved, yet nimble fingers. There are notches along the base of the blade, marking off...something. I don't know what, they were there when my Ghost greeted me. Six notches at the base of my throwing knife, somehow kept oiled in the remnants of what I assume was once a leather pouch. "All metrics recorded, analyzing...it appears inert now but perhaps an engineer could make use of the design. Shall I send a report to the Tower, Guardian?" My floating companion somehow manages to look disappointed as it spins its outer shell restlessly. I smile and nod, then remembering the gesture is somewhat masked by my cloth-swathed helmet say "Aye, better had."
I narrow my eyes and raise a hand to shield them from the sun as I look up, off in the distance I see a speck rapidly growing larger in the western skies of Old Russia. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then it catches in my throat. The speck has grown larger, taken on a blockier shape. It's too large to be my sleek patrol fighter. I take an involuntary step backwards, drawing up my scout rifle from behind my dusty brown shoulder cape."Guardian..." I don't have to look at my Ghost to understand its apprehension, I can feel it growing inside me like a black pit. "Guardian!" I turn my head sharply at the flicker of movement to my right, another bulky ship closing from the south. "Guardian!!" I pivot on my heel as my Ghost's modulated voice grows more insistent.
...continued in next post
English
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I'm surrounded, Hive dropships coming in all around us, I see intimidating armoured Knights, unsettling Wizards floating in ragged robes behind shimmering fields of fire. Behind the milling Acolytes and Thralls something large lands in a cloud of pulverized metal. "Guardian, I suggest we get out of here-NOW!" I scan the legion of Hive apprehensively, looking for a weakpoint in their formation, somewhere I could take cover, anything that could be used to prolong my existence. The Hive don't seem to have our location pinpointed I note as I slowly crouch down behind a rusted car frame. They haven't shot at me yet-and five ships seems a bit much for one Guardian. "I don't think they're here for us, there're too many of them." I whisper to my Ghost, the pit in my stomach is still there, but it seems to have grown a bit smaller as my curiousity is piqued. "Affirmative, perhaps it is an attempt to wrest control of the area from The Devils? They do not seem to have detected us yet-surprising." My Ghost bobs low, its synthesized voice almost as quiet as my own. "If we're lucky," I snort at the idea and glance at the rusted bulk of the tank, "I have an idea. Ghost, what's the structural integrity of that tank like, are there any access points out of direct sight of the enemy right now-or places I could force entry?" My Ghost hovers slightly over the rusted car we're using for cover, taking in the enemy positions, then drops closer to the ground once more. "It there is a 1 meter square hatch with weakened locking mechanisms near the base. You may be able to dislodge it." The Ghost seems to eye me levelly, as if pondering the possible ideas I might be having. "Alright, let's stay low, if we're fast enough they won't even know we're here. And maybe if the herd thins a bit I can do a little whittling," I grin lopsidedly behind my mask and heft my knife to illustrate my words. "Lead the way, as always." My Ghost replies, bobbing with what I think might be nervous excitement. I pause, peeking just over the rusted metal frame, "and...now!" I whisper hoarsely, scrambling over the uneven earth, staying as low as I can and crawling hurriedly towards the potential safety of the tank. The Ghost bobs along just overhead and as we close on the hatch briefly shines its light on three points around the metal plate. "Those two appear to be protective coverings for hinges, the third is what remains of an old locking mechanism." Nodding, I quickly look over the three points, testing my knife gently against each in turn. The lock seems to have been fused shut, one of the hinge coverings comes away with a dull clank. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, the nervous energy coursing through my body but in spite of it my nimble fingers remain steady as I pry at the exposed hinge carefully with my knife. I try to focus on breathing and leverage, and definitely not on the 10 Hive Knights (at least, I think to myself, not entirely sure of my count) grunting ominously amidst the chattering Acolytes and the clicking of armour against exposed bone echoing from the countless Thralls. Smiling grimly in triumph as the first hinge falls away, I notice out of the corner of my eye the Ghost bobbing excitedly, "You're almost there, Guardian!" he says with a stage whispered anticipation. Grunting with effort I force the second hinge cover plate, it falls clear with a dull clank that sounds as loud as a grenade going off to my ears in the relative quiet. Assuredly one of the Hive milling around the drop zone has to have heard that I tell myself even as I grit my teeth and try to force the hinge free of the housing. I almost want to cry in joy when the second hinge is free and the hatch plate heavily lists free. "Uh oh..." I blink and glance towards my Ghost, then over my shoulder towards where he's looking. After a long moment of horrified contemplation I speak in a quiet voice "I guess the home team came out to play. Quick, let's see if we can force it shut!" I don't wait for the belated "Right!" from the Ghost to tug the hatch open far enough to squeeze my narrow frame through and try to, I mutter a curse as I feel something on my back catch and with a tearing sound yank myself free. Immediately after I clear the hatchway my Ghost darts in and I yank heavily on the hatch, closing us off from the view of a pack of Fallen Shivs hovering quickly towards our position. Breathlessly, I hold the plate closed with difficulty as an alarm cry goes up-from both the unnerving Hive Thralls and the howl of Fallen Dregs. I wince, waiting for something to strike the armoured vehicle we're taking refuge in, but somehow the erupting battle outside seems to be passing us by. Glancing around our make-shift bunker as the sounds of energy weapons and explosions fill the dull air I realize that this war vehicle from before the Golden Age is almost entirely closed off from the light. "I think we're in the clear, at least for now. Can you light things up a little?" I ask the Ghost, my hands almost automatically traversing my armour, checking and double-checking that everything is there in the darkness. The softly glowing 'eye' of the Ghost dims slightly before a bright light from another point on my hovering companion stabs into the musty darkness. I suck in my breath at the array of panels and unlit indicators, and the two skeletons swathed in colourless tatters of what appear to be uniforms and corroded body armour. I fight the impulse for revulsion and fear at the sight of the long dead soldiers and force myself to visually check my weapons. "Oh. Guardian, I suggest we wait out this battle and call for backup, I am sure we can get a fireteam out here in less than an hour!" I look up from counting the bullets in my spare magazines for the Scout Rifle and after a moment of deliberation ask "Are you still in contact with the ship?" "I yes-wait," the Ghost's dimly lit 'eye' darkens, as if blinking in consternation I feel, "No. In fact I'm not receiving anything but noise on usual channels."[b]Silence is not golden, silence is deadly.[/b] I shake my head at the voice, the voice that seems familiar, that makes my knife hand ache dully. Suddenly a tremendous explosion rocks the armoured vehicle, then another. My ears ring and my body aches with the deafening impacts, then the world spins and my inadvertent strangled cry is cut short by the sudden cold pain in my gut. Dust and flakes of rust rain upon me and dimly I see my Ghost frantically hovering above me, which is odd because the vehicle was dark. Then a giant clawed fist sweeps the Ghost up in its palm and squeezes. Sparks and an electronic shriek pierce the fog I seem to be wrapped in and I open my eyes wide with a scream, even as that strange voice speaks in my head. [b]Focus, don't let the bastards take you without paying for it![/b] I nod in response to the echo of a memory and raise my hand, a golden light forming around it, taking on a fiery shape as golden flames wreath my arm..."Last chance girl...make it count." I say the Solar Sixshooter aims at two glowing points in a dark silhouette. My finger squeezes on the trigger, and there's a bright light. [b][i][u]Finis?[/u][/i][/b]
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Superb
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Superb
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Thanks, had a little trouble keeping it under the weird character limit Bungie has (it says 10,000 but it's actually closer to 9700) which is why I split it into two posts.
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Meh the beta ended so that's how my Guardian died again.