"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