Light. Exploits; Book I.

Part 15. Young Fools Reward.

I had a dream in the flight on my way back.
But not quite a dream.
Only in a sense that it's something I remember.
I'm old.
Not physically.
But my Light is old.
It remembers.
I was on Mars.
But it was a White Storm.
Season where the sand turns white.
It's beautiful.
Rare. Precious.
I was in a Fireteam with two rowdy Titans.
An Exo and an Awoken.
I kept them in check. Steady yet firm.
They didn't object to my order or leadership.
Light Beyond Nemesis. It quite completes the look.
We landed in an old part of a Cabal base.
Rarely patrolled and lightly guarded. Yet expertly charted.
Had to wonder if it was Farah's work now that I look back on it.
I fade in from my ship as the Titans follow.
Exo was Sentinel-5.
Awoken was Sar.
They drew auto rifles.
I thought them fools.
Nothing bests The Devil You Know.
The Martian surface was dry and cracked.
Let's go Titans. I say softly tilting my head.
We were looking for data I think.
Cayde needed a favor.
Said he'd owe me one.
He said Cabal beat him to some old unencrypted data that was coordinates to planets in the Milky Way.
New worlds to explore.
Possibility for new life.
New Light.
And the Cabal beat him to it.
He couldn't have that. And so he calls me.
Zavala suggests I take the two new Titans with.
Imagine my diastase toward Cayde.
But I digress.
What're we doing here? Asks Sentinel.
Cayde wants data. He dropped the ball. Hard. I guess Ikora had choice words for him. Sar laughs.
Why are you two upset? You get to kill Cabal. I sneer.
Which begs the question Warlock. Why're you here? Sar asks. His Helm of Inmost Light is burning hot.
Cabal and Psions despise the presence of a Warlock. Makes them frenzy and easier to deal with. Vanguard requested Warlock presence on any high value Martian operation. I say as we walk into the base.
And I'm your Warlock. I smiled under my helmet.
Ghost, where are we? I ask holding it, I see its holographic net passing over everything. Studying and reading everything.
Firebase Phoenix. One of the decisive victories the Cabal have over the Guardians. He says solemnly.
Damn... Sentinel sighs. To push out Guardians. Cabal? How? How do they have the firepower up here?
I studied his question as we searched the building for any star maps.
How did the Cabal get this up here?
We weren't on the flat Martian desert.
This was mountainous.
Craggy.
Almost volcanic.
But there's a base here.
No Cabal machine can get that up here sound.
I shook it off as we regrouped in the archive wing.
Should be somewhere in here. Sentinel says softly.
Split up. Sar on the left. I say walking forward as the other two split off.
Guardian... My Ghost whisperers in my ear.
A worrying whisper.
I raise my head as I turn my eyes and see a blinding light envelop the room.
Get down! I scream silently into my comms as Ghost highlights them for me.
This isn't Cabal searchlight!!! Sar screams at us.
I study the light as it blinks off.
The doors open and in walk two Phalanx.
Trailing behind them are two Vandals.
They walk as if they have known each other since birth.
You gotta be fucking kidding... I sneer angrily.
What a way to learn of Fallen and Cabal alliance.
Whats the plan? Sentinel says silently pulling the hammer of his rifle.
No! I shout, more than thankful that the comm is telepathic.
No fighting! We have to leave! Stay low! Stay quiet! I scream as I start to move.
Ghost can you kill the lights? I ask.
Give me a second. He says as the lights fade off.
The Cabal snort and cry as the hunker behind their shields.
The Vandals turn their nostrils to the air.
They hiss.
They know Guardian scent.
I see the wall and the door. I creep toward it.
I pray to the Light that the Vandals pick us up too late.
One of them howls and shouts and the Phalanx draw their weapons.
Oh no... I whisper as in walk a Colossus and a Fallen Baroness. The Colossus is lumbering holding its Slug Thrower.
The Baroness is walking slowly.
Shock Swords at her hip.
She's slow and methodical in her steps.
She's hunting.
Hunting us.
We need to move. NOW. Sentinel begs.
I palm a solar grenade charge and chuck it out the still open door.
As it bursts, it makes noise.
The Vandals screech and run out, hunting to kill the noise.
The Baroness hisses as she walks out.
I swear she saw me.
Had my scent.
And I was her plaything.
As the room was cleared, I motioned for the others to follow me.
Wait Guardian. The data. My Ghost whispers.
That room, he says pointing me to the room.
No we need to leave now! Sar shouts.
Silence! I hiss.
Weapons ready! We aren't gonna leave quiet!
My Ghost is already streaming the data into his memory.
I brandish an Invective.
Gift from Ikora.
I hear a Truth beep to life.
I heard the unmistakeable whirl from a barrel of SUROUS Regime.
I was trembling.
The Darkness was creeping in.
Ready Warlock, Sentinel said firmly. He was keeping me steady.
We got this, Sar said with a laugh.
Their confidence was grounding.
My eyes flashed and I knew my Light was strong.
Soon we heard Cabal boots stomp.
I knew the sound of Psions.
Fallen screeching and screaming.
Wanting to pick us clean.
Take cover! I say crouching behind a console.
Ward of Dawn is ready, Sentinel nodded.
I count my breaths.
And as if clockwork on the count of 3 the wall was blown in and we were suffocated in gunfire and Arc smoke.
Suppressive fire! Grenades now! I shout as I lob a Firebolt charge.
The Light pierces the Psions armor as they scream.
I see Sar Shoulder Charge a Reaver Vandal.
As he's fighting I try my best to keep the Psions and Phalanxes at bay. Sentinel is slowly moving up to Sar.
But he is hit with something hard enough to send him through the wall.
As the Cabal head out to follow and finish him, I'm left alone with Sar and at least a dozen hissing, bloodthirsty Vandals.
What the hell are Cabal and Fallen doing in-cahoots?! Sar growls as his fist is glowing in Arc light.
I dunno, I shudder as I load the final shell into Invective.
But it's not gonna be pretty, I growl.
The Vandals all hiss and screech, but don't attack.
The Baroness has told them to wait.
And in she walks.
Sar and I see her and swallow hard as our blood freezes.
Her armor is adorned with dead Ghost shells.
Oh no... I whisper.
Meriva. Baroness of Kings.
She reaches for what I mistook as swords. But instead were whips.
Two of them crackling to life in Arc light.
She claws at the air with her icy cold howl.
She demands her Vandals to leave.
And they do.
And it was just her and two Guardians.
This was a young fools game.
And we were getting our reward.