Other Side of Destiny| IC|

[SilentxChaos]

The Cabal Empire has come.
In a wave of fury of vengeance, they've come. After a decade of silence, through half hopes that the message to their Emperor never met its destination, and perhaps, the City could breathe for once in ease. But they came anyways and retook Mars swift as the shifting sands and they now focus on the Moon as the gateway to Earth. Fury and vengeance and conquering arm their vast military.
And what did the Vanguard arm us with?​

She woke to the face of a dead vandal.

Its helmet had been broken open by an explosive, charred black, metal fusing with flesh. Dried ether staining its fanged teeth and chin. It was inches from her head. But her body convulsed violently- curling and uncurling like a baby experiencing life for the first time. With it came pain and numbness in her fingers. Dimmly, she was aware of a voice whining above her, but without control of her body all she could do was spasm and wheeze and stare at the corpse.

Minutes passed. Then, experimentally, she made a fist.

"Hestia!"

Control came unwillingly but shakily and Hestia managed to reach out and close the eyes of the Fallen. Then she sat up and flexed, expelling the last of the convulsions, shaking the numbness from her hands. A metallic blue Ghost hovered at her line of sight, its body flexing and rotating around its center anxiously.

"You okay, Hesi?"

It took her a moment to remember the use of her mouth. "Th-thana. What-?"

"Arc wave from a psion. It penetrated your shields and wrecked your nervous system. You scorched it before you blacked out."

Hestia tilted her head with satisfaction as she looked around. She recognized where she was: near the entrance to Crota's Temple, at the base of the rock ledge. Before her stretched dozens upon dozens of bodies. Most were Cabal. Others, long dead Fallen. One was another Guardian. A Bladedancer. Hestia didn't recall seeing him, and wondered if they'd fought side by side without knowing. She did remember being pushed back here, when she had started near the center of the fight.

They'd met at Hellmouth- the Cabal and the Guardian forces. Within an hour the Cabal had them mostly surrounded and pushing the Guardians back towards the Anchor of Light. They were separated, unable to group more than three to four people, and Cabal canon fodder made it easy for Guardians to waste their Light energy just as the centurions and colossus' and primus wafted in to place new pressure. It wasn't until the war reached the Anchor when a large band was able to form and repel Cabal attacks. Hestia had been in the midst of that- a sort of stalemate as more Guardians banded together, pushing the Cabal away, before a wave of reinforcements hit and somehow, she'd become detached from her partner, fighting for her life as she slew everything in her path and pushed to the fringe of the battle. In the distance, she could still hear it raging.


"What's the last marked hour?" she asked

"The fourth."

"Are we winning?"

"Well, we haven't lost yet."

She bent to pick up her rifle. "I want to find Rigel-7."

Floating to one side, the top half of Thana quivered. "No one knows we're here. Shouldn't we try to use that and find a way to recover communi-"

"Nope," Hestia said and began trotting back to the Anchor. Thana wavered, then disappeared, staying near her as they re-entered the battle.

Gunfire erupted when she rounded the bend, as if being so near the temple of a Hive Prince muffled all sound around it. It was chaos: the battle had expanded to encompass nearly the whole of the Anchor, with most Guardians forced back near her position. They were getting dangerously closed to being pushed again, to Archer's Line, the Guardians' transmat zone. Hestia huddled in the shadows as she watched, trying to find an opening, a moment to get where she wanted to be.

At the center was the cylindrical outlook of the Anchor, normally patrolled by Fallen but now she could glimpse a primus there, surrounded by chosen soldiers. She almost didn't spot him, as he hunched in the shadows like her, overseeing the battle without drawing attention. She smiled. If I get there, maybe then Thana can scan the battlefield and find Rigel. I need him at my back.

Hestia waited for two heartbeats before leaping forward and blasting a nearby legionnaire fighting a Defender titan. He fell forward, then suddenly exploded with compressed solar energy. Two psions were caught in the blast. The titan turned, stunned, only to relax when he saw she was the same as him. She walked over and pointed towards the outlook. "I need to get there."

He cocked his head to one side and Hestia rolled her eyes beneath her helmet. "It's imperative that I do so. Will you help me?"

"Why?"

"You have something better to do?"

He thought about it and shrugged. Bending down, he yanked out an ax etched with the symbol of the Iron Temple and motioned her to stay behind him. Hestia obliged, keeping an eye on their six as they re-entered the throngs of war.

 

[Antiheld]

"Eyes up, Guardian." A light robotic voice penetrated Rigel-7's helmet, it was a familiar voice, one that had been with him for a very long time. It told him to get up but Rigel-7 found his body stiff and his joints locked.

Muffled echoes of gunfire rang out around Rigel-7 and his eyes readjusted to the terrain which had become much closer to him after the explosion. His knees were dug into the Lunar surface where they fought against Rigel-7's commands to move, but his arms obeyed. He clawed for his weapon which lay only feet away from his body and as his left hand found the grip he regained control of his body. Pushing himself up out of the gray dirt the terrain around him was scarred and burned from the heavy ordinance the Cabal had unleashed.

Eliksni bodies were littered everywhere, burned, eviscerated, dismembered. Rigel-7 knew he couldn't dwell on the carnage or he would find himself in a state similar to the Fallen. His top priority now had to be to get to safety or the enemy would turn to him and there were much too many for Rigel-7 to take on alone, maybe.

As bullets began to whiz by Rigel-7 took up cover behind a ruined Fallen Walker which had been destroyed only minutes ago. Smoke still poured out of the core which gave him an advantage as he returned fire.

"Ghost!" Rigel-7 had to shout to be heard over the combat. "See if you can locate Argo-82 in this mess, he's got to be nearby!" Cabal were moving ever closer as Rigel-7 gave his commands and he could feel the adrenaline building up.

"Aye aye, Captain! Shall I also search for Hestia?" The light robotic voice answered and the small robot appeared next to Rigel-7 as it searched for his ally. Rigel-7 nodded to the robot as he reloaded his primary weapon.

Nearly surrounded by Cabal, explosions, and small arms fire, Rigel-7 put away his gun. With his eyes closed, he channeled the Light within him letting it flow through his body and into his hands where a hammer of Solar Light formed.

"I've located Argo-82, communications established. Working on Hestia." The Ghost spoke during breaks in the fighting but his voice seemed to always make it to Rigel-7's ears anyway.

"Argo!" Rigel-7 spoke hoping his ally was still capable of receiving long distance comms. "I'm at the Anchor of Light. If you've got a second, I was hoping you were up for a little meet and greet. Maybe welcome the Cabal to the moon. Look for the destroyed walker... And the hammers..." You could almost hear the smile on Rigel-7's face as he ended his message to Argo-82.

In one motion the hammer soared through the Cabal front lines causing an eruption of flame where it landed and several more hammers followed each leaving char and debris in their wake.

As the flow of Light ended Rigel-7 charged toward the Cabal lines evading as much of the bullet-storm as he could. He drew his shotgun, Silence of A'arn, and unleashed both his fists and bullets into the Cabal.

"Welcome to the moon, fat asses!" Rigel-7 couldn't hear anything over the adrenaline, except for the bullets impacting his shields.

 

[Dunruffle]

Argo sat on a ridge like a stone. His red and black armor seemed to pulse like a heartbeat as he aimed down his scope. A line of Cabal phalanxes were slowly advancing towards him, their shields up and guns ready. Argo's sniper rifle cracked and the dome of a phalanx's exposed hesd erupted in blood. As it crumpled to the ground, the other cabal hurried to reform their line. Argo's rifle cracked several more times, obliterating legs, arms, and heads. Soon all that was left was one phalanx. Roaring a challenge, the phalanx charged at the ridge. Argo did not fire, but simply waited. Suddenly the tripmine hidden in the rocks beneath the phalanx detonated. The explosion blowing apart it's legs. Argo smirked as the phalanx lay on the ground dying, "idiot.."

Suddenly a ghost with what looked like patches of siva infection appeared next to his head. "Incoming message from rigel-7, beginning playback." Argo listened to the message and sighed, "I might as well indulge him." Descending from his perch, Argo put away away his sniper rifle and drew his hand cannon Fever and Remedy. Sneaking through the shadows, Argo made his way up to rock outcropping. Pulling out Patience and Time, Argo adjusted the scope and zoomed in on the battlefield. Finding the destroyed walker, Argo watched as Rigel charged the Cabal. Tapping his comms, Argo sniped a cabal legionary about to throw a grenade at Rigel. "You would have a higher survivability percentage if you stayed in cover Rigel. But telling a titan to stay in cover is like telling a warlock not to study."

 

[The Philosoraptor]

[fieldbox= Janus, purple]

​

Janus let loose a burst from his rifle into the crater. Most of it caught a Legionary in the helmet, piercing through armor and crunching through the great monster's skull. Another bullet strayed and ricocheted off a Phalanx's shield. The Cabal had been advancing for hours now, initially as small warbands scattered throughout the crater, and now as a wave of steel and lead trying to push out of the crater. The only Guardians that remained were castaways who hadn't managed to get out when the vehicle grid went down, and only a few stayed behind, the rest escaping under their own power. Now they were all holed up at the lip of the crater firing down at the advancing line of Cabal. A Sunbreaker threw an Incendiary grenade into the hole, setting a group of Phalanxes on fire. As they spasmed, a sniper managed to fire under their shields. But as they fell, a squad of Legionaries charged forward and managed to land shots on the Sunbreaker, who almost immediately died. Behind them, new shield-bearing Cabal took the place of their fallen comrades; the bodies were left behind as the line moved forward. The Sunbreaker, meanwhile, resurrected on Janus's left. He started shooting again, and took out the undefended Legionaries. He didn't look too happy about it, though. Ammo was running low, and the line was getting painfully close. It was becoming difficult to even peer into the crater to shoot without getting a wall of lead in the face. Janus himself, however, wasn't all that worried. Rather the opposite, in fact: He was having a glorious time.

"Come on, you fool! We've got to move!" The Bladedancer to Janus's right was panicking, his scout rifle lowered. He looked rather like a rabbit in Janus's mind. "We can still make it to higher ground, buy ourselves more time!" The Guardian looked halfway out of his position, crouched like a runner to avoid fire, but still ready to spring away when he had the opportunity. The Sunbreaker, however, seemed close to violence.

"Coward! Where would you go? The Cabal are everywhere! Run backwards, and you run into a shield. Run forwards, and you get shot in the face! Better to stand and kill as many as possible before we die!"

While the two argued back and forth, Janus continued shooting into the thronging wave of steel, even managing to score a few kills. He noted, however, that he was missing a bit more than he was actually hitting anything. Hmm... Sitting upright, Janus rested his chin on his hands and thought for a moment. Not getting anywhere, fighting like this. Then he saw the plume bobbing above the shield wall. A low, furious clicking sound erupted from his helmet, which gave the other Guardians pause.

"What... what is he doing?"

"I heard he can't talk right. Some big accident he couldn't get fixed up proper."

Janus put his hand up and pointed towards the shield wall.

"What of it, Titan? It's hopeless. The Cabal don't leave any vulnerabilities in their assaults."

Janus grabbed the Hunter by his collar and shoved his head against the lip of the crater and pointed at the wall again.

"Enough! Let me go, you foolish bastard!" The Sunbreaker, meanwhile, was staring with curiosity in the direction of Janus's arm. He started suddenly.

"They have a Valus driving them." The Hunter stopped struggling.

"A Valus? Oh, Light, we're fucked..." Letting out a frustrated grunt, Janus lightly slammed the Hunter into the Lunar dirt. He pointed to the Sunbreaker, then to himself, and then to the crater.

"You want to go in there? Are you as insane as you are mute, or just broken in the head?" Janus pointed more forcefully, and clicked with frustration. He gestured in the general direction of the Cabal officer, drew a finger across his throat, and smashed his fist into his open palm.

"Without the officer, they'd be less organized. I see what you're going for." Janus pointed at the Sunbreaker again, and seemed to channel a sense of ultimatum into the gesture.

Are you coming or not?

The other Titan stood there for a second, looking once over his shoulder, and then once into the crater filled with his doom. "If we leave now, they'll re-enclose the Anchor in hours." He glanced once more at the Hunter who remained prone on the ground. Making a fist, he looked at Janus. "What the hell, right?"

The Hunter went limp, his head hitting against the ground. Sighing in resignation, he said "We're going to die. We're going to-"

*******​

"- FUCKING DIE!" It is not an inadequate term, the name Bladedancer. For they do indeed make a knife-fight seem equivalent to the tango. Corpses were strewn in the Hunter's wake as he dashed between Cabal warriors. By his side, the Sunbreaker ripped holes in the Cabal ranks with fiery hammers summoned to his hand, crushing their armor and bones when they got too close. Janus himself dueled a Cabal twice his size, dancing around the blows of the beast's blade and dealing some of his own with his sword. The plume of a Valus Centurion bobbed back and forth as the Cabal tried to parry the smaller Guardian's thrusts and chops. Getting down to the shield wall had been easy - Janus and the Sunbreaker had Lift Packs to carry them over enemy fire. The Hunter was easy enough to throw. The decision had been made to take the fight to close quarters, and it was working better than even Janus had expected. Slug Throwers and Projection Rifles were brilliant weapons at range, but rather inefficient when used in a melee. That left the Cabal with heavy shields, what boiled down to oddly-shaped metal clubs that would do a lot better shooting than swinging, and a handful of wrist-mounted swords to fight with. So far, it had gone pretty well for Janus.

Janus manifested a Magnetic grenade in his hand and chucked it into the Cabal's face. The first explosion knocked the Valus off its feet, while the second one brought him back to the ground. His sword alive with flickering heat, Janus boosted upwards and slammed the blade into the Cabal's chestplate, impaling the creature and setting off an explosion of heat from within its body. A coarse scream erupted from the Valus's throat, and flickering light could be seen through its broken helmet. As it breathed its last, a column of fire jetted out through its maw, illuminating the battlefield before quickly fluttering out. Never did get a proper atmosphere on the Moon. People just slept in domes. How uncivilized.

At the death of their commander, the Cabal stopped fighting and drew back from its body. The Sunbreaker and Bladedancer fell back to Janus's position as the surrounding Phalanxes looked to each other for consensus.

"Alright. We killed the bastard," the Hunter said. "Now what?" The circle of Cabal shifted as a Centurion, seemingly of no special rank or privilege stepped forward. Shouldering his Projection Rifle, he bellowed out something in the Cabal tongue that seemed to resonate with the surrounding Phalanxes. They raised their Slug Throwers.

"Got any other ingenious plans, Guardian?" The Sunbreaker's fire was fading as he gazed at the horde.

If you must know...

The Cabal opened fire simultaneously as Janus raised a dome of Void light around him and the other two Guardians. There wasn't any air to produce a sound, but the sparks of slugs bouncing off the dome told Janus all he needed to know: No breaking out of this one. Of course, Janus always had a plan B. Without even saying a word, his Ghost appeared at his shoulder.

"I see you got yourself into a wonderful mess of trouble. Didn't even consult me this time." Janus leaned down next to the massive corpse at his feet and started patting it down. When he pulled off the creature's damaged helmet, Janus was satisfied to see what he assumed was a comm system, or at the very least a link to a higher Cabal chain of command. He held it out to his Ghost wordlessly. "How rude." With only a slight twitch of annoyance, the Ghost set to analyzing the piece of equipment.

"Guardian, I hope that helmet is our ticket out of here. Otherwise, I'm thinking of converting to whatever religion these fuckers are preaching," the Hunter said. Janus said nothing. His Ghost hummed while it worked, and in a matter of seconds the comm turned green, and Janus could hear tiny guttural words being spoken in an alien tongue over the link.

"Cabal language. How utterly insufferable."

"Did your Ghost just hack into the Cabal communications network?" The Sunbreaker's gaze tore away from the outside of the shield to gaze in amazement. Janus clicked in strained affirmation. Keeping the shield up this long against this much fire was taking its toll.

"He says yes, and I can speak for myself that I did. Of course, they change it drastically every day. Can never hijack it the same way twice. We're lucky we got a direct link from Valus... Go'arg, here. Oh, the things we could do if we had a skeleton key to get past their encryptions-"

Janus clicked furiously.

"Oh, yes. Right." Ridges spinning in excitement, a foreign voice erupted from the Ghost, clearly directed at the comm. It sounded more like boulder grinding against the hull of a jumpship, but it sounded enough like a Cabal to pass as distorted by radio interference. A few tense seconds later, and another voice emerged from the other side of the comm. The Ghost replied again, and the other voice grunted a confirmation. Dropping the helmet, Janus fell forward on his knees, each click becoming more and more strained.

"Guardians! Lend him your Light if you want to live through what comes next!" Strangely, the skeptic was the first to believe. The Bladedancer put his hand on Janus's shoulder, and immediately the burden of holding up the shield became easier to bear. The Titan, meanwhile, seemed to finally comprehend what was happening as a Cabal Dropship crested the top of a nearby cliff, and almost ran to grip Janus's free shoulder. Janus let off a soft click.

The Ghost voiced the thought for him. "Brace for impact!"

The Cabal probably thought they were receiving reinforcements. Maybe another Valus come to take command? How foolish they must have felt when the bombs started falling. Fire tore through their ranks as the bombing run cleared the crater. Janus felt ready to collapse in on himself as explosions bounced off the Ward of Dawn. It was always such a pain to do things like this. As if Ghost ever gave him a break...
​

*******
​

The run lasted a solid minute, and Janus waited for another thirty seconds to lift the Ward. All three of the Guardians were exhausted, and could do little to fight off any surviving Cabal. How inattentive could that pilot have been that he managed to do multiple strafes of the same battlefield and not notice he was bombing his fellow soldiers? Regardless, when Janus did lower his shield, all that remained of the grand legion that had faced his fireteam was a veritable field of gore.

"That... that was incredible," the Sunbreaker gasped out.

"Wake me the fuck up when we get back to Earth." The Hunter collapsed to the ground. Janus couldn't be sure if he was actually asleep. With a great deal of struggle, Janus rose to his feet and opened a line with Lunar HQ.

"Commander Zavala?" Ghost was talking for Janus again. "This is Guardian Janus's Ghost. We've held the Cadeus crater. Lower-east flank is secure for emergency evac."

"Well done, Guardian. We're calling any exhausted forces back to HQ. The vehicle grid is back online for now. I recommend retreating while the enemy is at bay."

"Understood." Janus didn't wait for permission. He summoned his Sparrow without a second thought and crawled on with some difficulty. Nodding to his two dazed comrades, he let off a flurry of clicks. Caught somewhat off guard, his Ghost hastily translated. "Oh. He wants you to know it was an honor serving with such valiant comrades. Frankly, he didn't expect any of you to make it out of this, but is pleased that you all did. He hopes to one day fight alongside you again." Turning to Janus and giving as much a frown as a Ghost could, it said "Can we go now?"

Shaking his head, Janus gave his fellow Guardians a little wave and sped off on his Sparrow, kicking on the afterburner. The sooner he made it back to HQ, the faster he could redeploy. Resupply, recuperate, and then get back to the fight.

As he sped off, the other two Guardians sat confused before summoning their Sparrows and following him, questioning what sort of madman they'd just followed into battle before settling on the consensus that it didn't matter. They'd just beaten the odds of the universe. What did it matter if it took a lunatic to do it?​

[/fieldbox]

 

[TerribleName]

Kaitlyn wasn't at the Anchor of Light. Not anymore, at least. She could feel the flow of battle, feel the tides changing in the Cabal's favor... She knew that the Anchor of Light wouldn't hold. Of course, that was just a guess, because she was no tactician; at best, she could maybe predict how ten or so enemies would behave. But, really... so few Guardians and so many Cabal. There weren't going to be any reinforcements any time soon.

That's why the Striker had taken up a lone position in the Archer's Line, the primary transmat zone for this area of the Moon, and perhaps the most important for maintaining some semblance of control over the Moon and fighting back their Fallen and Hive enemies. And, well, the Cabal had already stormed this area, coming through the twists and turns that connected Archer's Line and the Hellmouth. Kait knew that when her allies inevitably fell back to the Archer's Line, and they would be trapped between an unstoppable force and another unstoppable force.

That would not be good.

So there she was, fending off the Cabal, all by her lonesome. She was sure no one was going to sing songs about her heroic deeds, but it was moments like these that made here feel like she was truly doing something with her Light.

Of course, she was met with Fallen resistance, too; some Dregs on pikes, trying to defend their territory from the imperial incursion and the presence of a Guardian. Fortunately, Kaitlyn managed to pit her two enemies against each other by escaping to the safety (from the pikes) of the line by which this place was named. They got a few dozen kills under their belt. But the sheer number of Cabal very much overwhelmed the Fallen, and their corpses and the corpses of their pikes littered the battlefield. The Cabal left behind no corpses, of course, because the ones who fell were vaporized by sizzling Arc energy. And, of course, once those pitiful Dregs fell she returned to the battle below, where she could actually land her shots.

The Guardian knew that she probably couldn't completely fend off the Cabal. In fact, they would probably eventually overtake her. But a dent in their numbers? Well, that was practically Kaitlyn's job anyway. The woman was a maelstrom of brutish fists, searing lead, and howling thunder, and any one creature alone was unlikely to survive a serious engagement with her. Well, unless you were a Hive or Vex God, but the Cabal were certainly neither.

Currently, her kill count was probably somewhere over one hundred Cabal, primarily Legionaires and Psions with a dozen Centurions and perhaps two or three Colossi. Most were taken down by ammunition for the purpose of conserving her Light - the Hothead was quite the effective weapon when dealing with a Colossus. The damned thing was unmatched in blast radius; two shells and the giants fell - but, of course, close-range combat was exceedingly effective against the Cabal given their bulk and lack of effective melee weapons. An occasional Storm Fist and simple brute force was enough to stay the foes who got too close. And if she needed to respond to the charge of a Phalanx quickly, the blast of a shotgun was good enough.

The Cabal, however, were pushing her towards the Anchor of Light, forcing her further and further and further back. Psions had taken perches on the line, somehow, raining down their rather annoying pellets of Solar as the Cabal's main forces slowly encroached on her position, forcing her to remain just on the other side of a large ridge - the one with a cave at the bottom where Fallen frequently stowed away, and almost directly beneath the line - and peak out to try for lucky shots with her auto rifle, occasionally taking out the Cabal who rushed her from either side.

The woman ground her teeth. The situation was hopeless. She couldn't hold this position for very much longer; she wasn't even sure why they hadn't just rushed her yet. She could imagine a team of three or four Guardians having already come over and around the ridge to converge on her. The Cabal Empire's military was less competent and more brute strength. Did they truly need tactics when they could flood the enemy with numbers alone?

She shook her head and kicked off the ridge, doing what pissy Hunters and Warlocks referred to as "Titan skating" to quickly make her way to the little shelters, where she could more easily Lift onto the line. Her Light carried her up to the structure, and she positioned herself on the opposite side of the Psions further down, transitioning into a dead sprint that carried her right to them in five seconds. To evade fire, she slid just under the cover the line provided, before peaking back up and mowing her foes down with a single clip of her Auto Rifle. Their limp, tiny bodies fell from the line. But, in the roughly thirty seconds the Psions had distracted her for, the Cabal had already overtaken her former position and were advancing towards the Anchor of Light.

And then she heard the telltale roar of a Cabal dropship, and her attention was drawn to the transmat zone itself.

From the bowels of the dropship descended a goddamned Goliath.

The grinding of her teeth prompted her Ghost - which she simply called Ghost - to check on her. The thing appeared from a haze of blueish white particles and rotated its little nubs in concern. "Erm, Kaitlyn... perhaps we should-"

"Ghost. Not right now."

"But-"

"Patch me through to Janus. And Zavala."

The little Light fell silent momentarily, then made an electronic noise akin to a sigh.

"You really should have asked me to do that before. You knew you couldn't hold off the Cabal alone - I'm surprised we've lasted this long. Anyway, patch-"

Ghost was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the cannon of a Goliath projecting its fury towards whatever unlucky soul it had set its sights on.

That unlucky soul was Kaitlyn.

Fortunately, Ghost managed to disappear before the blast impacted the line. Its Guardian, however, was not so fortunate as to have that luxury. Metallic alloys peeled, as if frightened, away from the blast of the Goliath's cannon. Kaitlyn could almost see the carnage in slow motion before she even felt the impact of the explosion; it was surreal, watching metal she could barely dent with a punch bend and buckle and break so easily from a mere explosion.

And then, the all-too-familiar feeling of an explosion rippled through her body. It was as though every single individual cell in her body was punched essentially all at once by a tiny but no less powerful Titan, minus the elemental infusion. It was a feeling she preferred to avoid, even if the pain came after the explosion, because the sensation of every molecule in her body being pushed was in itself exceptionally unpleasant.

At least that feeling was only for a moment. But a much less familiar feeling was the sheer disorientation brought about by her body's erratic flight path. The murky depths of black in the sky and the bright greys of Moon melded together in a swirling, jumbled mess. And during that swirling, jumbled mess, she seemed to approach a large mass - it looked almost like a bubble. And then she crashed through something, and her vision was encapsulated by dark shadows. She felt herself bounce, once, and then she was out in the black and grey again. Then she was on the ground again, and stayed there for the most part. It felt like she was perhaps tumbling down a slope.

And then everything... stopped. She couldn't hear anything. She could see her Ghost above her, hazy, and she realized that the grey of the Moon, which seemed to stretch out nearly infinitely into space from this angle, was hazy, too, and so was all the debris floating in space, and the stars. And soon, things grew blacker, and blacker.

"Janus! Kaitlyn is in a very, very bad spot right now. She's unconscious from a Goliath cannon, near the entrance to the Hall of Wisdom in Archer's Line. We need backup, fast! I can't get Kait out because the Cabal are messing with the transmat zone, and it's only a matter of time before the Cabal and the Hive find her. There's also a massive force of Cabal moving into the Anchor of light from Archer's Line, though I don't think they can exactly maneuver a Goliath through the terrain, thank goodness, but it's directly on top of the primary transmat location."

"Zavala, we need more Guardians on the Moon as soon as possible! The Cabal have already taken Archer's Line and are trying to take the Anchor of Light, where most of our forces are pinned down. I know it's risky, but perhaps three or four more Guardians could touch down nearby and make their way to the battle... That might be enough to push from the Anchor of Light to the Archer's Line."

"Why the Hell didn't Kaitlyn tell us there were Cabal forces in the Archer's Line, Ghost? That's extremely pertinent information!"

"She didn't think you would believe her."

"Damn that woman! I'll see what I can muster, but reinforcements will not arrive quickly. We're fighting the Cabal all across the system."

"Understood."

 

[Spectre of the Fade]

[fieldbox="] Oran [, #7cb342, solid, 12, Tahoma"]Knocked off his feet and out of the throng of battle by a shield swing from a Phalanx he'd allowed too close, Oran struggled to regain his breath after the blow. He was tired, so very tired of this fighting. But then, he'd been tired for at least an hour and the fight was still going, raging with all the chaos a clash between forces of Light and forces of Dark tended to inspire. Tired was a luxury Guardians didn't often get.

...Were Cabal really forces of Dark? Eh, a philosophical question to contemplate when he wasn't about to be crushed underfoot. The Warlock surged to his feet, channeling the lightning he worked to master into the Legionary that'd been about to step on his head in a melee strike. With a sigh that wasn't as long or dramatic as he wished it could be, he brought his scout rifle to bear and rejoined the fight. Pulse grenade in one spot, away from the few Guardians he could make out. Melee strikes to finish off enemies whenever he had the energy for them; ammo was a precious resource to be conserved when possible. Fight fight fight, best as he knew how.

Oran circled around a Psion that was distracted by some Titan, in the midst of carefully lining up his shot on it when he was knocked off his feet yet again. A Phalanx had flanked him while he was distracted and charged him, throwing him to the ground with the kind of force that hurt, as if the impact from the enemy wasn't enough damage. This time he made himself scramble to his feet far sooner, even with the effort that took, and the pain it caused. His survival instinct was still a thing, after all, despite the many deaths he suffered. Oran scrambled to his feet and ran. Best as he could, anyways, and he could care less about how it looked. He was not dealing with a fully armored Phalanx at that close of a range. So he ran, and his Ghost carefully channeled Light into the injuries caused by the Cabal beast. When he looked behind him, he found the Phalanx, two Legionaries, and a Psion trailing after him, too close behind for him to lose them.

Luck was...not his friend, sometimes.

Taking cover behind the nearest semblance of cover he could find, he drew his sidearm and quietly wished he hadn't used up all the ammo he'd brought for Sleeper Simulant so early in the battle. The Psion went down first with a few good shots, followed by the Legionaries. Putting down the Phalanx took some acrobatics and some wasted ammo, along with a close call with the beast's slug rifle that Oran probably should not have found invigorating.

Pursuers done with, Oran walked up a nearby ridge in an attempt to get his bearings and maybe gauge the extent of the battle. He found himself far closer to Archer's Line than he'd expected, but he could still see the battle raging at the Anchor and he needed to rejoin it. He took a step, ready to glide off the ridge and run back to the battle still raging, but the quiet voice of his Ghost stopped him.

"Oran?" The turquoise shell materialized in front of him, blocking the jump, as if out of thin air. It was shifting like it was hesitant, or maybe worried.

"What is it, Aeson?" Oran asked, wincing softly at his snappy tone. This was his Ghost, not some would-be leader attempting to give him orders. He gentled his tone for the second question. "Did you find something?"

"I'm picking up a Guardian's life signs near here. Towards Archer's Line. Towards the Hall of Wisdom, technically, as best as I can tell. I'm unable to pinpoint the location." Aeson paused, shifting in that same hesitant/worried way again, and added, "I don't think they're doing well."

"Try to get communications with that Guardian's Ghost. And notify the Vanguard," he responded, drawing his attention back to Archer's Line, and he immediately spotted what he'd missed the first look; the Goliath, and the Cabal troops occupying the transmat zone. That was bad news. Very bad news. With a single nod, he headed down the ridge and set his sights on the Hall of Wisdom in the distance, deciding to do what he could for the injured Guardian. He wasn't so stupid that he'd take on so many Cabal by himself.[/fieldbox]​

 

[The Philosoraptor]

[fieldbox= Janus, purple]

​

Janus drew his sword out of a Legionary's torso, letting the blood slough off the emblem of the Iron Temple before replacing it on his back. The alien sputtered, coughing blood into its own visor before falling alongside its brethren. Janus hadn't had a chance to restock on ammo before being summoned out to Archer's Line, and so was stuck fighting with his fists and blade. Kneeling down, he took note of the innumerable tracks in the lunar dirt. His Ghost appeared in front of him, briefly scanning the prints.

"Cabal. From the gear on these grunts, I'd say the Siege Dancers are directing their full strength for an assault on the Anchor of Light. Light help whoever gets in their way."

Oh, Kait. What have you done to yourself this time? Janus rose and cracked his back before grabbing a Slug Rifle and summoning his Sparrow. The weapon was fitted for a giant, but would be suitable for combat when it came time to fight. The Sparrow jumped forward as Janus checked the oversized clip. Guiding the growling mechanical beast with his knees, he slammed the clip back into the gun and leaned forward, accelerating even faster. Rock outcroppings sped past him as he followed the Cabal's trail, and the stars above melded into glowing white missiles shooting across the airless sky. The ground lurched up as the Sparrow launched up a steep hill. Kicking on the afterburner, Janus launched higher above the ground, and finally received a vision of what lay ahead.

Barely bothering to remain hidden was an entire legion of Cabal warriors. Their yellow armor identified them as Siege Dancers, and it was clear from their activities and what they left in their wake that they were already in the process of establishing a solid beachhead from which to direct an assault on the Anchor of Light. Dropships hovered over the Cabal mobile fortifications, their guns covering Legionaries as the grunts laid out fields of electrified wire. This operation went on for a solid half-mile in every direction, but Janus could barely see in the distance the explosions of a Goliath's main gun. To Janus's left, more Dropships carrying more troops and at least two more tanks sped towards the encampment. The Sparrow started descending rapidly, and Janus barely managed to pull off a smooth landing on a nearby plateau. His Ghost's voice crackled over his comm.

"Looks like they've already begun their assault. What's next, O Fearless One?" Janus clicked in annoyance, and the Ghost went silent. His head spun with possible plans of attack, and then dashed them against a wall when he realized that it would most likely result in both his and Kaitlyn's deaths.

Not to mention the forfeit of the Moon to the Cabal, if the transmat zone isn't held. Trembling with frustration, Janus started angrily smacking the side of his helmet trying to think. Nicholas would have had this figured out in a second, and Jeanine would be stabbing something before he'd even started. And in that moment, Janus had an idea. He turned in the direction of the Anchor. More specifically, the dark pit beyond the Guardian headquarters. He turned to his left and right frantically, searching for an opening, a cave, or a hole in the ground, or something...

"What? What are you looking for?" Ghost sounded more worried for his own safety than for Janus's wellbeing. Janus began clicking in haste, already summoning his Sparrow and jetting off towards a tiny cleft in a nearby mountain. From within, a darkness seemed to radiate, a darkness separate from the empty abyss of the space above. It emanated with an ancient hatred, and Janus thought he could feel the voices of the creatures that lay beneath. His organic half shivered with fear for a brief moment, remembering the abuse done to its other side long ago. Janus blurted out a lengthy series of clicks to his Ghost, not letting his brief weakness get the better of him.

"Oh, Traveler abov- Broadcasting on all channels! All Guardians in the vicinity of Archer's Line congregate at the Hall of Wisdom! I repeat, all available Guardians to the Hall of Wisdom!"

The sheer fear in the Ghost's voice was echoed in Janus's mind. For once, even he doubted his own plan. He leaped off his Sparrow as he reached the cleft, and without a moment's hesitation jogged inside.

*******
​

In a matter of minutes, Janus was speeding towards Kaitlyn's position, sending up a storm of dust in his wake. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-

When he reached the firefight, there was no time for caution. His Sparrow shot up an inclined boulder. Janus got up on the chassis and jumped off as it crested a low wall and hit the front of the Goliath. The explosion shot pieces of broken metal over the heads of the encroaching Cabal squads, distracting them as Janus let loose successive bursts of fire from his Slug Rifle. Anticipating the heavy kick from it, he managed to make the alien weapon work for him, and found that the three-finger span bullets were much more effective against Cabal armor than City-issued ammunition. Each mini-rocket hit home, making little explosions when they collided with the heads of the surrounding Legionaries. He threw a grenade, blasting a group of Phalanxes apart.

Tearing himself from the battle at hand, he briefly scanned the battlefield. It didn't take long to find the worried Ghost and its catatonic Guardian. Catapulting forward with his Lift pack, Janus landed behind cover and let loose another burst of fire before running out of ammo. Tossing aside the Slug Rifle, Janus pulled out his Fusion rifle and primed it. The Hive design would be good for tearing through Cabal shielding, but Janus hated using Murmur. For one, it was a weapon of the Hive. Secondly, it fired rather slowly. He hadn't pulled it out to deal with the Cabal in the crater, and he preferred to keep it on as a final resort. And at this point, it was about time for a final resort. He fired off a beam of Arc energy, which hit home on an anti-grav jet on the Goliath. He click-shouted at Kaitlyn, and his own Ghost scream-translated for him.

"WAKE UP, KAITLYN! WE HAVE TO MOVE!"​

[/fieldbox]

 

[Antiheld]

As the war raged on, Cabal bodies began to pile up around Rigel. His combat strategy had shifted from his original plan and it now flowed from relentless attacks to moments of calm while his let his shields recover. The tides of the battle danced back and forth as the Cabal and the Guardian took turns assaulting each other's front lines and Rigel didn't speak while he fought as he was too focused on the fight.

To Rigel-7, a battle was much like playing an instrument or performing a surgery; it required calculation and precision otherwise there were too many things that could go wrong. A battle also required quick thinking as everything would change around those fighting and they needed to be able to adapt to those changes.

Taking up cover behind the remains of the Fallen Walker that had seemed to become Rigel's ally, he squeezed off three more shots from Touch of Malice and tossed a Thermite Grenade into the rapidly advancing Cabal Empire.

"Who knew that stepping into a war with the Cabal on Mars would lead to a full scale invasion?" Rigel's rough, robotic voice didn't carry very far, but he didn't need it to. The communications system in his armor had been knocked out after the first blast, but his Ghost had managed to repair it during the breaks in combat and the comms icon was now visible on his HUD.

"Well, I mean, Zavala sure had a lot to say about it. Not to mention his reaction when he found out that they'd managed to get a distress signal out from the Cerberus Vae III. My guess is that everyone but you knew." The Ghost quipped at Rigel-7 with it's familiar cheery voice.

"That was rhetorical, Ghost. But thanks for the input." Rigel wasn't amused.

"Hey, I'm here all week... I'm here forever actually." The Ghost paused. "Hestia's last known location has been sent to your HUD, seems she's not far, though it says that she was moving."

"Open comms with her if you can, she's our priority." Rigel commanded the Ghost once more as he threw himself into combat again, this time with an objective other than 'kill'.

Finding Hestia had became Rigel-7's priority in the chaos of battle and the hellstorm of bullets was unleashed again as he fought toward the beacon that his Ghost had set for him.

"Argo, I need to find someone, someone important. Forwarding you the beacon." Rigel's HUD pinged as it confirmed the coordinates were sent. The beacon pointed to a location nearby, an observation post that sat elevated from the rest of the terrain. The building was cylindrical and would made an excellent place to hold out if they were forced to dig in.

Rigel's charge grew in strength as he drew Silence or A'arn and fired into the Cabal that dared pursue him. Three Legionaries fell into the lunar dirt while a Psion was sent flying backwards by Rigel's right first. It seemed that most of the pursuing had become preoccupied with the surviving Fallen and would not be able to run nearly as fast as the Titan anyway.

"Hestia, if you're receiving this, I'm oscar mike to your last known location but the invasion force is growing in-" Rigel's transmission cut off before he could finish as a stray slug thrower shot nearly knocked him down.

*******​

The area was quiet as Rigel used Lift to reach the entrance to the cylindrical building. With Touch of Malice ready to fire upon anything that moved, Rigel-7's eyes scanned the room in search of any potential threat.

"Ghost, she isn't here." Rigel-7 sounded calm, but he felt worry growing inside him.

"I, uh, maybe I picked up the wrong frequency. There were so many Guardians around, signals get confused sometimes. I'm sorry, Rigel, I'll scan for her again." The small machine whirred past Rigel as it pulsed in search of Hestia once more, but Rigel knew that it was likely that too many signals were bouncing around to get a clear location.

 

[Dunruffle]

Argo threw down a trip mine and retreated further back onto the ridge. The cabal were smart and had adapted to counter his sniping tactics. A line of phalanx had hunkered down behind their shields to provide cover for a group of legionnaires. The legionnaires had begun arcing their shots over the shields as well as throwing volleys of grenades. Sliding down the other side of the ridge, Argo began making his way around the far side of the pile of rocks. A few moments later, Argo heard the explosion of his tripmine go off and grinned. Making his way into an old domicile, Argo set up his machine gun on a windowsill. He checked his belt of ammo and waited patiently for the advancing line of cabal to make its way closer to the ridge as they investigated. Waiting for the entire line to pass, Argo waited until their backs were turned and opened fire. Bullets tore into the unprotected backs of the unprepared cabal. Blood flew and vents of pressurized air vented into the vacuum as the cabal died. A few cabal managed to pinpoint the source of the bullet storm, but were only able to fire ineffectively as they were out of range. Bits of plastic from the windowsill had melted because of the heat generated from the barrel of If Materia as Argo nodded satisfactorily at his flanking attack.

Stowing the bulky weapon, Argo's ghost appeared next to him. "Incomi-i-ing message from Rigel-7. Activating waypoint." Argo sighed as the ghost stuttered. Ever since incorporating siva into his equipment, his ghost had begun to occasionally act odd. Listening to the message, Argo rolled his eyes and set off towards the beacon. "I don't see why we must go around collecting stragglers. Its better we cut our losses instead of wasting time and resources." Of course he kept these mutterings to himself. On the rare occasion Argo had been part of a team. His squadmates were often put off or angered by his cold-hearted detachment. Keeping to the shadows, Argo drew his handcannon. Suddenly a group of fallen emerged from a cave, clearly trying to avoid the cabal invaders. Sneaking up behind them, Argo silently put his gun to a captain's head. "Boo." Pulling the trigger, the large caliber round tore off the majority of the captain's head. Startled, the fallen whirled around to face their attacker. An eager vandal jumped at Argo with its swords raised, only to receive a throwing knife to the throat. As the vandal fell to the ground spewing blood, the remaining dregs began backpedaling and firing their weapons wildly. Moving in a fluid motion, Argo dodged the lasers and returned fire. One dreg received a bullet to the dome of its head, causing it to explode in spectacular fashion. The second had its hand blown off and a follow up shot blew out its chest. The last dreg, seeing its comrades fall, turned and began to flee. Argo flicked his hand and a throwing knife flew out to impale itself in the back of the dreg's head. Reloading Fever and Remedy, Argo made his way to Rigel's waypoint. Jumping up to the building, Argo walked up behind the other exo. "So who is this straggler that we are waiting for?"

 

[TerribleName]

What must have been a terribly long time for her Ghost was a mere split second for Kaitlyn.

The last thing she knew, her vision was fading and blurring, and the next thing she knew, it was doing quite the opposite. At first, of course, she was massively disoriented. A typhoon of confusion swept through her brain momentarily, but soon enough she realized some important things: she existed, she was alive, and she was at war with the Cabal on the Moon.

It took a few moments longer than that to regain basic motor control. Her fingers curled and twitched for a moment, and suddenly she was aware of a dull ache that permeated throughout her whole body. That's right; she had survived a powerful explosion. Honestly, she would have much rather died and been resurrected. For one, it'd be less painful, and two, she wouldn't have passed out and been put out of the fight for any length of time.

"...lyn, are you awake? Kaitlyn! Calm down, okay? It wouldn't do if you... well... got angry."

Was that Ghost? It must have been. It was the same high-pitched, vaguely distorted voice, punctuated by the same high-pitched electronic noises. Plus, she was rather certain that that was also Ghost floating above her, adorned with a special ghost shell for her excellence in the Iron Banner. Of course, his prattling also made her realize she was, in fact, angry, and that electricity had begun crackling along her body. That was not good.

She suppressed the crackling Arc energy and propped herself up on her elbows, groaning just barely above a whisper. Glancing about, she realized she woken up in the middle of a firefight; Cabal were encroaching on the Hall of Wisdom, and some Guardian was fighting back with... it sounded like a fusion rifle? She slowly got to her knees, then pulled herself to her feet, and almost fell over from the disorientation.

She looked back to where the Arc streams had been jettisoned from and found - thank goodness - Janus taking cover behind a nearby boulder. Then she felt the sting of a Cabal shell exploding against her torso, which made her stagger just a tiny bit. And, of course, she joined him behind cover. But she spoke to her Ghost first, of course.

"Ghost, switch my loadout. Slap Rifle, please."

"You mean the Vex Mythoclast?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I've got a plan. Hey, Janus, lovely day, yes? I need you to be my Wall, alright? I have a stupid plan. Follow behind me - I'll need a bubble, if you don't mind. Oh, and make sure that we've got our comms linked, yeah? Just in case."

"Kaitlyn, what are you doing? Whatever it is, please don't. Let Janus-"

"Ghost, are you a fan of Goliaths?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then let me do my job."

**********
​

Charging into a group of enemies without a weapon at the ready even though she had a weapon that would work perfectly fine was not generally something that Kaitlyn did. However, she thought it would be pretty appropriate in this situation, because that Goliath had to go down quickly.

Her Thagomizers crackled with unchecked power, and the first enemy to come into contact with her was a Phalanx at the head of the line, who braced himself for impact with her fist. But what the alien didn't realize was that when a Striker Titan's Storm Fist was souped up with such exotic armor, there was nothing that Striker Titan couldn't demolish.

And so her fist tore clean through his shield, cracked his helmet, and sent a pulse of Arc energy into the Cabal's body. Alien flesh, armor, and all burned with Arc energy, leaving nothing behind but a Slug Rifle and a cracked shield. And the Cabal were rightly alarmed by this, and the surprise let her advance quickly and easily through some of their ranks. Two Psions fell to her raw punching power, and three Legionnaires challenged her to a duel. One threw a punch at her, which was countered by another Storm Fist. The second came at her immediately, and she punched his helmet to bits, just as the last one slugged her. Without losing momentum, she responded with a punch of her own, straight to his gut, sending him tumbling.

Three more Psions. One was thrown into a second and the other was decked to the ground cleanly. Now she was right at the entrance to the damaged bubble structure that lead out to the Archer's Line. Some Cabal were clumped up in the middle, which was remedied by a well-placed Pulse Grenade. Then she sprinted to the bottle-necked entrance, drop-kicking a cabal and sending him flying against two others. The first one's organs were surely jolted far enough out of place to kill him, and the other two got up, but another Storm Fist reduced one to smoking thunder and a kick to the lower abdomen was enough to kill him. Or... it.

She couldn't quite see the Goliath from here, as it was at the transmat zone. But there was a veritable sea of Cabal swarming all over Archer's Line and, well, it would take a good dozen Guardians to even hope to clear the area out...

But her goal was the Goliath.

She used the little structure adjacent to the bubble structure, which was almost hanging over a cliff, to launch herself to the line. And there the Goliath was. It saw her and began revving up its cannon. She vaulted to the other side of the line and pushed off the edge. Her Light carried her out of the radius of an explosion which tore another chunk from the line. She saw that the cannon was no longer revving because, of course, there was no way it was going to hit her.

And now she was high in the air, far above the Cabal. And, she stopped. Only briefly, of course. She set her sights on the Goliath; specifically, its cannon. The telltale white-hot Arc of a Fist of Havoc enveloped her body, wrapping her in a cocoon of a raging yet contained storm, and after her very brief moment of stillness, she rocketed forward.

That Titans could aim their Fist of Havoc was, for many Crucible participants - Hunters especially - rather unfair. And she was sure the Cabal would have to agree with them. She hurtled through the air faster than the Goliath could possibly move, her fists out front, clenched tightly and pressed together. The Goliath approached her rapidly, at least from her perspective, and soon she came into contact with the cannon.

The maniacal, almost haunting sounds of shredding and bending and buckling metal filled the air for a split second. And then, the boom of a Titan impacting the ground replaced that sound. But Kaitlyn didn't exactly have a great landing. Given she had kept her fists out the whole time without so much as a bent knee, she landed on her arms, and was flung over the side of the ridge, leaving behind a crippled but still very much deadly Goliath behind. Of course, it couldn't quite follow her down, so although she was laying there with throbbing and possibly broken arms, she was safe from the tank.

"Hey, Janus? Uh, please standby for bubble. Not sure my arms are... prime for shooting at stuff."​

 

[SilentxChaos]

"Broadcasting on all *static* Guardians in the vicinity of *static* I repeat, all available Guardians to the--screech!!"

Hestia ripped off her helmet, ears ringing from malfunctioned comms, and threw it a psion. It stumbled back- more from surprise than the force- before a headshot twirled him like a top. Hestia switched the Waltz for shotgun just as a phalanx closed in and tried to bash her with his shield. She sidestepped and fired. He went down, ether spraying from his neck. It splattered on her robes and face. Not stopping, Hestia whipped around and dispatched the remaining Cabal forces within the lookout.

From a distance, she and the Defender who was meant to have her back, thought it to be empty despite the battle raging around. Turned out the Cabal were hiding in plain site, keeping to the shadows of the circular walls to avoid detection and using the building as a communications base. She had to give them credit for strategic unpredictability, but it fell short when they discovered only psions and four phalanxes guarded the area. Three of the four were dead before the distress signal of the Hall of Wisdom broadcasted and the Defender took off- murmuring about duty and insane warlocks, and leaving her alone. I should have never left Rigel-7's side.

With a small sigh, Hestia lowered her weapon, finding a new break in the fighting. She could tell from the ambiance the battle was moving north- towards Archer's Line. Last possible line of defense. She wouldn't be able to stay long here either; she imagined Cabal would send in a backguard of their higher commanders to pick off any stragglers and ensure the Guardians couldn't escape Archer's Line. Primuses and valuses keeping the rear so they could direct their canon fodder and still show presence. Not a force Hestia wished to encounter on her own...but certainly having a Cabal communications center to herself could not go to waste?

"Thana, please setup a beacon for Rigel-7 to find us and see if you can fix the Ahamkara skull?"

Thana appeared as she picked up her helmet and set it on a pedestal. "Al-alright, but won't we attract attention?"

Hestia tilted her head side to side, poking at an interface experimentally. "Probably, yes. I'd estimate we have three minutes before reinforcements arrive. I'd suggest you get going." She winked at him.

"I was really hoping you'd say we could just move on," Thana sighed, but began the repairs to her helmet, having already set the beacon.

Hestia chuckled. For a minute, they worked, Hestia shifting between interfaces and keeping a hand on her sword. Dreadfang was vibrating at her side, sensing bloodshed and demanding to be used and partake. Its hunger wafted on her- making her twitch to use it. She quelched the desire. She had possessed the Skull of Dire Ahamkara far longer and learned from how to control such things, even though, when she least expected, she still experienced the auditory hallucinations. Moving ahead, she paused at one computer that listed several comm links. Most were between legionnaires and their commanders but one in particular caught her attention.

"Thana, come here and kindly decipher this?" Her Ghost always found Cabal language the easiest to translate, enjoying their cut-and-dry glyphs, while Hestia preferred the runes of Hive.

Her Ghost drifted over, finished with her helmet, and scanned the interface. "Huh. That's weird."

"What is, this one?" she pointed to a line of glyphs outlined in red.

"Uh-huh. It's a signal that the Cabal are actively blocking but it's...coming from Earth."

"The City?"

"No. Hold on," Thana projected a blue beam on the computer screen as Hestia retrieved her helmet, fixing it on her head. She reactivated its comm systems and grinned when she heard Rigel-7's message. Finally! With the two of us, maybe we could-

"Hestia!"

She turned, Dreadfang suddenly in her hand, as she reacted to her Ghost's squeak and looking for an attacker. She frowned when she saw none. Thana rotated around his center, expanding erratically, and she realized he was excited. "I know where the signal's coming from!" he bubbled.

"Where?"

"The Forgotten Shore. I think it's Rasputin."

She stood, momentarily processing. Not the fact Rasputin, the ancient Warmind, would be attempting to intervene with a war the Guardians would be losing, but the implications of it. A thrill shivered up Hestia's spine. He could be the key for turning all of this around...assuming that's his plan anyways. "Can you stop the Cabal from blocking him?"

"No, not from here...but if we could get to the base at Archer's Line that's hooked up to the vehicle grid, I may be able to do something. But..." Thana drifted up, projecting doubt, "how do we even know if he wants to help? Or will?"

"Do you something better in mind to win?" she asked. She didn't pause for his answer, knowing he didn't have one, because she didn't either, "Rigel-7 is heading here. We'll wait for him, and then-"

"Hesi incoming!" Thana cried.

Hestia turned around, Dreadfang up and singing with void energy, in time to see the hand of a Primus close around her head. Oh right. Rearguard. The thought blipped through her head before the Primus picked her up like a ragdoll and threw her from the outlook.

**********​

"Mayday, mayday, this is Sunsinger Hestia, requesting backup at the north-north-west point of the Anchor of Light- shit- Rigel-7, I hope you're hearing this, I have-- kindly get your ass here!"