Monthly Archives: July 2017

Day 797 – Finale

“We are all subject to the Fates. But we must act as if we are not, or die of despair.”
Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass


The wind blew between the empty huts and into their doors and windows, kicking up dust and dirt. We walked through the settlement, as silent as the empty buildings.

“Where is everyone?” asked Findlay.

No one answered. We found the entrance to the underground compound and descended the slope. The light strips were dark, and our Ghosts lit the way. We found the central corridor, now empty and abandoned.

“Let’s check that nanite room,” said Arianna.

We wandered through the compound until we located the place where the Warlocks had tended their machines. The room was empty but for a large chest, covered in intricate filigree and sealed with a heavy lock.

“A trap?” asked Miranda.

“Doubtful,” said Drake with surprising confidence. He motioned to his Ghost. After a moment there was a pop of displaced air and the lid shook. He opened the chest and revealed six glowing engrams, the empty space around them covered in enough Glimmer to make a common citizen of the City comfortably well-off for the rest of their days. A scroll perched on the Glimmer next to a small amulet. Arianna picked the scroll and read it aloud.

“We thank you Guardians for the service you have rendered us and our people. Enclosed is treasure we hope is enough to compensate you. As well, we leave you a talisman: ask it a question of your future and it shall answer truthfully. Be warned, it may only be asked once, and it will bind to the one who asks. The nanites in its structure house the Light that is so precious to our kind, and will serve you well.

Again, we thank you. May your path through the Dark lead you to the Light.

We all looked at the treasure. “Equal shares,” said Arianna. “Anyone want the amulet?”

No one spoke. “Guess we’ll give it to Rahool then,” she said, and pocketed it.

We each took our share. The engrams certainly lightened the mood, and conversation picked up as we departed the abandoned complex.

Findlay sidled up to me. “So, what happened?” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

“At a guess?” I said. “They were under siege, and they sent us out there so they could have time to evacuate. I’m sure there’s more to it, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“So there was no SIVA?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe they just told us that to get us to come out here.”

“And the Kings?”

“Again, your guess is as good as mine,” I admitted.

“That is…a really unsatisfying conclusion,” said Findlay as we stepped into the light of dawn.

I laughed. “Welcome to a day in the life of a Guardian.”

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Categories: Morc-35 | Tags: , , ,

Day 797 – Part 6

“Every generation of humans that has ever lived believed they would see the end of the world, whether they called it Armageddon or Ragnorök.”
James Marquess, Stem: A Novella


“This all seems too convenient,” said Findlay. We were crouched near the coordinates the Warlocks had given us, in the middle of the warehouse district of a ghost town that had sat on the edge of a (now dry) river. “The House of Kings just happen to have a way of hijacking SIVA and these Warlocks call us for pest removal? And they have the coordinates to point us to their camps? It’s weird.”

I grunted. “You’re already developing a sense of cynicism. Good.”

“Maybe that’s my nature.”

I chuckled and sighted down my scope. “4 Vandals and a modified Servitor that resembles the one I saw 2 years ago. They’re using that warehouse as a base, though why pick a warehouse without a roof is beyond me. We can take care of these on our own.” I relayed the information to the rest of the fire-team. “Killing threats is what we do, Guardian,” I told Findlay. “You Titans have it easy on your Wall to keep you safe.”

Findlay grumbled something unintelligible.

“Speak up,” I said.

“Easy for Hunters to say, they just run.”

I laughed. “Needs some work, but good to see you’re growing teeth.” I slapped his armored shoulder. “Now, we’re going down there and kicking some Fallen ass. You ready?”


We scuttled through the blasted streets, picking our way over half-buried detritus to approach the Warehouse. “Now,” I whispered softly. “I’m going to go up top, shoot them from above. The Servitor may take multiple shots, so if I get made before they’re all dead, you charge in there and distract them, OK?”

Findlay nodded, his helmet jostling with the movement.

I began to scale the side of the warehouse, suddenly proud of my ability to move in silence after months on Mars baiting the Cabal. I wondered what else had changed since I had taken my leave of absence. At the top of the building I began to creep across an exposed beam.

The beam shifted and bent down into the open space of the warehouse as my weight torqued it out of position, making a grinding noise that could have been heard all the way back in the City. I instinctively clung to the metal, cursing when I heard the howls of the Fallen below me. Then I was falling.

I landed in the open space in the middle of the Fallen and reached for my hand-cannon, but the holster was empty. I saw the gun going flying away with a kick from a Vandal’s foot, and the Fallen were on me in a moment.

The whole area suddenly lit up with a flash and my vision was distorted with white snow from an EMP burst that overloaded my visual receptors. I rolled to my left, scurrying between where I had last seen 2 of the Fallen and hoped I had dived clear before turning around. My vision cleared in time to see them meet their unfortunate end.

Findlay charged in behind his grenade blast, catching the nearest of the Vandals with his shoulder. The Vandal went sailing over my head and folded into a rusted metal wall like a squashed insect, twitching spasmodically as ether poured out. The Titan seized the next Vandal in both fists, ignoring the sword that scraped against his armor, and twisted its head the wrong way round: it collapsed bonelessly to the dust. The next 2 tried to attack together. The first had its leg shattered with a swift kick, and as it writhed Findlay pivoted, jumped into the air and brought both fists down on the other’s head, crushing it into the dirt. He then hefted his shotgun and put the wounded Vandal down with a shot.

By this point I had scrambled to my feet and recovered my pistol. “Findlay, the Servitor!”

The modified Servitor groaned and began to glow with Void energy, as did the Vandals all around. Findlay charged and leaped: Arc Light crackled around his body and he hit the Fallen machine hard enough to core it like an apple, lightning and heat billowing out from the strike. The Servitor lay in its miniature crater, smoking and broken. The Titan made a show of dusting himself off and looked at me.

“I thought I said ‘distract’ them,” I said huffily, trying to recover some dignity.

Findlay gestured to the remains. “This is how Titans distract enemies.”


Our team gathered around a blazing fire pit as the sun disappeared past the horizon.

“None of the modified Servitors had any dead Ghosts,” said Arianna, summing up our reports. “And none of the Fallen wore King regalia. In fact, we found no evidence of allegiance to any House at all, or any evidence of SIVA-like tech.”

“So, different Fallen? Did the Warlocks lie to us?” asked Magnus.

“Maybe not intentionally,” I offered. “We know that these Servitor mods were originally started by a King. Maybe the Warlocks jumped to a conclusion.”

“This is all kinds of wrong,” muttered Findlay. Miranda nodded her agreement. Only Drake was silent, poking at the blaze with a branch and lifting the burning ember to his face, studying it.

Arianna stared out at the darkness, clearly thinking. “Someone is playing us,” she said finally. “Who or why is the question. At first light we’re going back to that settlement and demanding answers.”

“Why wait?” asked Findlay. We all looked at him. The blonde Titan shrugged, looking suddenly unsure. “I mean, if we’re being used, shouldn’t we get moving?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Drake stood up, tossing his branch into the flames. “The boy is right. Delay only insures that whatever end we are being used for is accomplished. We should return immediately.”

Arianna nodded. “OK. Mount up.”

Categories: Morc-35 | Tags: , , ,

Day 797 – Part 5

“What hast thou to ask? | why comest thou hither? Odin, I know | where thine eye is hidden.”
Anonymous, The Poetic Edda


I let my fingers graze the wall of the tunnel as we descended, feeling the perfectly cut surface beneath them, seeing as much as feeling the tiniest fractures in the stone. It was rare to see this level of craftsmanship in the City, unheard of to see it beyond the Wall (unless you counted the Warmind compounds). The tunnel was perfectly lit by thin light strips hidden where the seams of the ceiling and the floor met the walls, a stark contrast to our descent in its sister compound when the Fallen had attacked the other settlement. I had so many questions.

Our guide was silent. Her red robes swished from side to side with each step, and the years of dust and filth that had accumulated on them were a stark contrast with the clean spaces we walked through. Her Ghost was also silent, and their hushed behaviour had desecended over our whole group.

Eventually the sound of voices echoed up the tunnel to us, and we reached a thoroughfare that branched off in many directions. What looked like a cross between a market and a city square under a great stone dome, with a single yellow globe casting a sunlit aura over the whole space, was crowded with people going about their business. It was almost a city, albeit a small city. As we passed through the crowd of people parted to either side to let the red Warlock pass but paid us no more attention than a brief glance.

“You’d think they see Guardians everyday,” said Findlay. Our guide laughed, and the weight of silence was broken.

“Why did you call for us? For Guardian aid?” asked Arianna as we walked through the crowd.

“All will be explained.”

“Wonderful, cryptic Warlocks,” muttered Findlay. I elbowed him in the ribs and he silenced.

We were eventually led to a large circular room, and found 2 more Warlocks, similarly attired, hovering in a strange tableau. Strands of neural networking crowded the space from ceiling to floor and glowing with pulsing energy, and the Warlocks floated between them, running their fingers over the strands as if coaxing them.

“Welcome to the heart of our settlement,” said our guide. “I am Lyra, and these are my sisters, Persephone and Cassandra.” The other warlocks descended to our level – it was impossible to tell the difference between the 3. “We have called you here to ask for your help, and provide insight if you so desire.”

Magnus reached out and hovered a hand over the strands. “Nanite constructs.”

“Constructs that the Kings have finally come to understand, thanks to the SIVA outbreak.” Lyra gestured to the nanite strands, some as thick as trees. “SIVA will seem like a rash compared to the plague that will spread if we don’t stop the Kings. That’s why we summoned you here. Help us Guardians, and you help yourselves.”

Categories: Morc-35 | Tags: , ,

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