Traveler's Fall

The Story Continues

He heard about the strike team that took down Crota, and he had been a part of the one that destroyed Atheon. The feeling in the Tower was that things were looking up. That maybe, just maybe, they could push back the Darkness and reclaim their lost territory among the stars.

He sat in the cockpit of his ship, the Wolfpack, thinking about what to do. Did he head for the Crucible? The Iron Banner was coming up, he could use some new gear for that... He began setting the coordinates for the Crucible when his Ghost appeared, "I have another message from the Stranger. Something about a race called the Reavers? She said to head for Mercury. Said they were looking for an artifact called--"

The Speaker's voice suddenly filled the cockpit, coming from his Ghost. "All Guardians must return to the Tower. The City is under attack by forces of the Darkness. I repeat. All Guardians must return to the Tower. The City is under attack by forces of the Darkness."

The message kept repeating, but he had already steered his ship back to the Tower. How? How did they get in so close? There are Guardians leaving Earth constantly. How did they surprise us? That question kept running through his head as he sped back to the Tower, hoping he was fast enough.

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He broke through the atmosphere, heading for the Tower. What he saw shocked him to his core. Fallen Ketchs and Cabal Jumpships were swarming over the Tower and the City. The Tower's AA guns were blasting ships from the sky, but not fast enough, and not in enough numbers.

"We have to get down there. The evacuations have started, but we can help get more people out." This came from his Ghost, who floated in front of his face, appearing worried.

"You're right. Get us to the closest launch pad." He turned over control to Ghost, and readied his weapons. His Scout Rifle, the Acheron SR5, sat ready as always. The Black Chasma, won in the Crucible lay loaded next to it. His Genghis-E machine gun sat ready and waiting as well.

"Here we are. Are you ready for this?" Ghost said, concern tinting his voice.

He looked up, and noticed they had landed. "Of course." Without another word, he slammed his helmet's visor shut, grabbed his weapons, and ran for the 20 other Guardians who stood watch at the make-shift barricade they had erected.

"Ok boys and girls," said a big Titan. "Orders came down from Commander Zavala. We hold this platform no matter what." His armor was scratched and dented, and he walked with a slight limp.

He looked over the barricade, and was disappointed at what he saw. Scrap metal and crates? What good would that do? He was about to say something, when a shot rang out, narrowly missing the Titan. He cursed, and the others, he noticed the group was mostly Titans and Warlocks, ducked for cover. He saw a few other Hunters, their hooded capes fluttering in the breeze.

He cocked his head to the side, and one of them pointed to a roof across the street. He saw the Fallen Vandal with it's Line Rifle, chittering in it's weird language. He took aim, but before he could fire more shots rang out. He looked out, and saw Fallen Captains and Cabal Phalanx moving towards them.

He cursed, bringing his rifle around, throwing a grenade. "Titans use your damn lighting grenades! Warlocks do the same!" He barked, taking command. He respected Titans, really, he did. But they were slow. And right now, slow meant they all died. He left the Hunters out because he knew they would do the same. A Hunter who didn't think and act quickly got dead pretty quick. He started firing into the crowd, looking for weak points, praying they could get enough people out.