"Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid, one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory."

-Douglas MacArthur

Part 1: Close Combat Encounters.

Chapter 1

Allen

"Attention, Guardians entering the Tower."

Allen's visor filled with the crackle of the announcer, giving returning guardians an odd sense of happiness. Another battle fought and won, and with little to no loss. His fur sweltered under the metallic covers of his armor, but he kept it on, waiting on a notification from his ghost.

"Nothing new, yet," the unusual device bleated out, staticy and full of technical errors. "Good," Allens smooth and deep voice replied, "Alert me if the tower picks up a distress response. I'll be checking the bounty board." His tail shook and snaked free of the armor slot he stored it in, and it dripped with sweat. He sighed and opened the vents on his helmet and sweet air flooded and cooled his furry face. He approached the tower bounty master, and nodded at the robot.

"What's new, Xander?" The robot in question nodded. "Downloading new bounties, Guardian, Just a moment." A new notification appeared on Allens hud, showing several bounties focused on the area around First Light Substation. He nodded at the robot again in thanks and smiled behind his mask.

"These'll do." He said, "Thanks." He contacted his ghost and within a moment beamed off to orbit. In the atmosphere over earth, he marveled at the planet, and gave a small prayer to the traveler that he would return again. "Okay, Let's head to First Light, ghost." The autopilot engaged from the ghosts control and within a moment, the earth was lost to slipspace travel.

Doran

Elsewhere, far from the safety and light of the Tower, a solitary jump-ship drifted in low orbit over Mars. Its systems were powered down, the cabin dark and the computers in standby as they waited for commands. Those commands came as the consciousness of a Ghost slipped in amidst the systems by remote, and over several moments the reactor span up, the cockpit lights flickered on, and the life support system came out of standby to refresh the stagnant air of the cabin. A moment later the air shimmered as the ship's transmat system deposited a Warlock in the cabin, who promptly settled back into the pilot's chair with a sigh.

The red dust of Mars was ground into the seams and scuffs of the battered long coat he wore over his environmental suit. It caked the treads of his boots and formed a film over the sealed and armored hood he wore over his head. For a time he just sat back and relaxed, enjoying the peace and solitude of the cockpit, empty but for him and his Ghost that hovered silently to one side, used to the Warlock's ritualistic moment of silence upon returning to his ship.Finally he shook his head, reaching up with gloved hands to undo the latches and seals that bound the metal hood to the rest of his armor and then pulling it off to rest it in his lap. The head beneath the hood was that of a blue dragon, weary from combat and blinking a few times as his vision adjusted to life without the augmented optics of his environmental gear. He combed his fingers through the silvery feathers of his mane as he turned to address his Ghost. "Well. That was interesting." The Ghost rolled slightly to one side in the air, simulating the way a person might give a curious tilt of the head. "'Interesting' is an interesting term for it, Doran." The blue dragon chuckled softly. "There are a lot of ways to describe the feeling one gets when a quick and easy scouting mission at a Cabal comms relay station is suddenly complicated by the arrival of three dropships full of angry legionnaires and phalanxes. Many of them are rather impolite, so I'll just stick with 'interesting.'" The Ghost responded with a digitized crackle that Doran had come to recognize as its closest equivalent to a chuckle. "At least we got the data. And I didn't even have to revive you." "You would have if that Titan hadn't been patrolling in the area. Thank the Light for her skill with that long rifle, gave me the breathing room we needed right when we needed it. All the same I think I'll take the whole experience as an object lesson in why it's nicer to drop with a proper fireteam when possible. Anyway, what've we got next?" The Ghost turned toward one of the computer screens. "A few options. Commander Zavala's put out a call to organize a strike against a Fallen base on Venus, Lord Shaxx is announcing a new tournament for the Crucible games, and the Vanguard have posted several bounties for action on the Lunar surface." Doran leaned forward, selecting the latter on his screen to look at the details. "Mare Cognitum. The old First Light Substation. Looks like several promising opportunities... kill order on a Fallen Captain, intelligence gathering, data retrieval from a dormant computer in the colony. Sounds like a good way to be productive. Alright then, let's accept those. Fly me to the moon." The Ghost gave a chirp of acknowledgement and span up the ship's NLS drive as Doran took the controls and pitched the ship upward, away from the Red Planet. In a few moments the course was set and the stars ahead blurred as the ship accelerated into the black, nose now pointing toward Luna. Allen"Okay, guardian, keep your ears up and wait for the-" even as Allen spoke, the sudden bang of a Fallen ship entering the area around the substation alerted them to the approaching foe. The random guardian he was with, a tier eight hunter who had just gotten his jump drive, shifted nervously while aiming his revolver. "Take it easy, buddy, just breath." Allen tried to reassure the new guardian, remembering back in the older days of his first time on lunar furma.

The ships came down, emptying a fresh batch of fallen onto the lunar dust. With a deep breath, and a knock on his helmet for good luck, He charged the enemy as his ally panicked and hid behind a bolder for cover. Within sixty feet, he jumped and with a light touch of void, doubled his jump to gain more air for precision. As soon as he hit the height of his ark, he let out a pained sigh as he accessed the void once more. aiming loosely with his hands, he let out three smaller novas, each carpeting the area before him and leveling his foe to void dust.

The new guardian, what Allen would generously call a Scrub, peeked around just in time to see the latter half, and stood awestruck. The communication set in his helmet crackled before he heard, "By the Speaker! That was amazing!" Allen was thankful for the helmet he wore, it kept his smug grin off his face. "That's nothing, kid, we've still got a few more ships to face." On cue, two bangs sounded as more ships entered, keen on the data of a downed warmind.

"Backs straight, head up, and let the light shine, Guardian" He said, drawing on the words which inspired him to join the defenders of earth, "We've got fallen to kill!"

Doran

"There's something going on down there. Fallen skiffs, several of them. They're off-loading troops and I'm detecting weapons fire."

Doran frowned and squinted at the scanner readouts on his console. They'd just dropped to normal speeds and were entering Lunar orbit above First Light, and already there seemed to be excitement going on. "Bring us down to transmat altitude and get me down there. Don't want to miss the party."

"On it. Twenty seconds. Loadout?"

Doran hefted his elongated helmet over his muzzle and head, tucking a couple stray feathers under the closure and then snapping it into place until he felt his environmental suit seal and pressurize. "Long rifle and support gun. Primary will be the usual, of course." After checking all was set with his armor, the dragon quickly hefted his usual weapon of choice and gave the magazine a final check before slamming it home and cocking the gun to chamber the first round. The weapon in question was a compact bullpup scout rifle, single but rapid firing, its metallic housing painted in dark blue with silver highlights. The Warlock kept it clean and well-serviced, but the trusty rifle had been with him a while now and dust from Mars and the Moon along with soil from the jungles of Venus and several regions of Earth could be found clinging to some of the more stubborn nooks and crannies. It had once been a gift from the Vanguard, given as a reward for taking part in a campaign against a Fallen house that had been trying to make a foothold in the European Dead Zone. Since then the gun had grown with him, seeing upgrades and modifications until it had become something unique and intimately familiar to him. These days it sported near-perfect balance, a holographic targeting aid embedded in its iron sights, and the title 'Stomper mk. IV' hand-carved into the paintwork on side of its body.

"We're in position. Ready to drop?"

Doran hugged the rifle to his chest, making ready to open fire as soon as he had a target to sight on. "Go."

The cabin air shimmered as the Ghost activated the ship's transmat system, and the Warlock was gone. In the same instant he appeared on the surface of the Moon, boots sinking into the powdery gray dust and leaving a few invasive grains of Mars there. In the next instant his rifle snapped up to his shoulder and braced there. At the bottom of the gentle ridge he'd been deposited on, a small army of Fallen were advancing toward an expanse of boulders and rubble, shock rifles firing while an additional skiff was approaching to drop off another load. Doran began to walk slowly down the slope as he sighted at the side of a Vandal's head and squeezed the Stomper's trigger.

Allen

This is unusual, Allen thought with a cool mind as more and more Fallen advanced, pulling out his trusty hand cannon. The slick revolver was a Crucible weapon, and well earned in the Old South contests of the American sect. An acronym for a name, as the saying was too long for a good call out, he spent his time earning the right to use it. The revolver was well aged by time, but had not lost it's touch or skill. The Scrub he was with had ditched, which Allen didn't mind too much, seeing as he was under armed for such combat. Still, with the Fallen closing in, despite his picking them off, it would be nice for some back up. How Ironic that I'd end up being the distressed now. He took a look behind him for a moment after reloading, seeing a small valley behind him, with little cover. "Shit," He muttered out loud, "If the fall won't kill me, the fallen will."

Doran

Doran worked his way down the hill, emptying his scout rifle's capacity into the advancing Fallen until the ground was littered with a healthy covering of Vandal and Dreg carcasses. By the time he was reaching for a new magazine, the force had certainly taken notice of him and were starting to shoot back, dividing their fire between him and whoever was shooting back from the boulders. He hadn't managed a good look yet.

As the Warlock cocked his rifle and prepared to start a second volley, he was met with a barrage of shock fire from the Fallen. He realized right about then that there were rather more still standing than he'd anticipated.

"I think you've made them angry..." muttered the voice of his Ghost.

The dragon grumbled a soft curse under his breath and began to run toward the relative cover of the same boulder field his unknown companion was shooting from. "Yeah, yeah... eyes bigger than stomach, I know..." He grit his teeth as the linear round from a wire rifle impacted his shoulder, taking out the last of his shield just as he managed to dive behind a low wall of broken rock. He tucked his body low and took a few breaths while his shield recharged, slapping the scout rifle against his back to magnetically attach it to his armor for safekeeping until he needed it next. "Alright, time for the big guns then. Ghost, if you'd be so kind?"

It was a simple matter for the Ghost to interface with their ship's transmat system and pull the heavy machine gun out of storage. The bulky weapon materialized in the Guardian's hands, a purposeful-looking construction of high-grade steel and precision engineering wrapped in the white livery of the Dead Orbit engineers who had painstakingly constructed it some years previously. Doran's shield returned to full charge just as he fixed the start of the ammo belt into the gun and slammed down the cover, cocking it and turning to brace the barrel on the rocks. "Right then. Let's get loud."

Allen

"What the hell!?" Allen looked at the tracer rounds hitting the fallen from behind, diverting half their forces to his hidden helper. "Shit, I hope you get out of this, who ever you are." He popped a few more fallen skulls with his revolver, and with a quick signal to his ghost, pulled out a shotgun that appeared on his back, holding the revolver in one hand and the shotgun in the other. This is gonna hurt in orbit, He thought, as he emptied the first shell of buckshot into a fallen Blade Vandel. He jammed his revolver into a magnetic leg holster, and cleared off the few fallen still on his hill, before returning the shotgun to his shoulder holster and letting out a sigh. "Too damn close, this time." He returned the revolver to his hand and continued the assault, nearly vocalizing his demand for his powers to return. A bar on his screen was slowly filling, a gauge to time his "Supers," But it was moving painstakingly slow across the data field

"Fuck it," He said aloud, and with another message to his ghost, his shotgun was replaced by a rocket launcher from the Dead Orbit, the double tube getting rammed shut with a loud thud. He popped from cover, aimed at a relatively large group of fallen on his side, and fired the first tube. As soon as the rocket left the launcher, he stowed the launcher, and with a touch of void, blinked towards his hidden ally.

Who ever you are, Allen thought, Get ready for a shit storm, cause I don't think this is it yet. As Allen Touched down, the rocket detonated and leveled about ten Fallen Dregs and vandals.

---

Doran

Doran kept the trigger held down on the support gun until his first drum ran dry. His reserve ammo for the heavy weapon was limited so he couldn't keep this up all day, but that first storm of bullets had done plenty to thin the advancing Dregs and Vandals. Partway through reloading he heard the boom of his companion's rocket impact, feeling it through the ground, and grinned to himself. Sounds like our friend brought some good toys to the party, too.

As he snapped home his second and last ammo drum of machine gun ammo, a deep thud reverberated through the thin Lunar atmosphere, heralding yet another Fallen skiff snapping into the space above the battlefield. This one dropped off a pair of heavily-shielded Captains and a Servitor, one of the large, hovering black spheres of technology and ether that the Fallen revered so highly. Their plasma blasts could also pack a considerable punch. Guess the Fallen are getting serious about this too.

On the plus side, Doran hadn't yet expended any of his Light on the super ability that was one of the most impressive weapons in the Warlock arsenal. His HUD bore the same bar as his friend's, and his was now reading nearly full.

Sighting his support gun over his cover once more, he was about to open fire on the advancing Captains to start softening up their shields when a shimmer in the space to his left caught his attention. Just in time, too; he dropped the gun and threw himself backwards as a Vandal's sword stabbed through the space his head had occupied an instant before.

The ones with those stealth units were tricky.

Giving a snarl of defiance, the dragon rolled to his paws and flung up his right hand at the enemy, palm open. The Traveller's Light coursed through his body, and with practised ease he channeled it down his arm to a focal point just beyond his hand, the power coalescing and forming a microsingularity for the barest of instants, just as his hand reached the Vandal's chest. The void magic imploded with a snap, then burned through his attacker's body with such speed that the screech of rage did not last long. What remained of the Vandal's body was sent drifting skyward, glowing violet as it slowly disintegrated.

A handy trick, that, if one that could only be used periodically. The energy Doran had harvested from the enhanced melee attack was enough to fully charge his energy reserves however, and those Captains were nearly on top of him. With a fury he reared up and lept into the air, hovering there a moment as he let his entire body become a conduit for the Light and the magic of the Void. Again he channeled the glowing power down his arm, gazing down at the two Captains for an instant before pointing his arm at them and employing his magic the same way Allen had before he arrived. Three orbs of angry light were flung from his fingers, impacting the ground at the Captains' feet where they exploded, carpet-bombing the area with three separate ultra-miniaturized supernovae. The explosion was devastating enough to decimate the Captains' shields and throw them backward, hurling up a screen of fine gray dust before them.

Doran panted with exertion as he landed back on the ground, collecting his discarded machine gun and readying it for further action in case the nova bombs hadn't quite finished off the Captains. One could never be too sure.

Allen

Allen sprinted for all his equine worth, glad for the species he was born into having a natural talent for such a feat. He looked over his shoulder and muttered a string of curses that would make his family blush, and popped a grenade in his hand. He pulled the pin and let the charge, loaded with void energy, drop and he build up another "Blink" Jump. He turned again and nearly had a coronary as he faced the rear of three high tier Fallen captains.

He almost shouted out, when a familiar burst of void purple engulfed the foes, obliterating one with a diminished shield, and wounding the other two. Wasting no time, Allen recovered his launcher, "blinked" past them, and with his last shot in the tube, finished the Fallen off. Meanwhile, several fallen stealth vandals felt what a void grenade does to their armor, and howled in agony before being atomized.

Allen almost dived behind cover, and to his later embarrassment looking back, ran straight into the Warlock Ally. He paused long enough to take in his ally. The fellow guardian was well armed and trained, and that was just from taking a glance at the being. Allen wasn't sure his race, but before he could ask a line rifle round lanced above their cover. He gave a curt nod, and readied his primary revolver for combat.

During all of this, a familiar voice filled his headset. "Attention all Guardians," The voice of the speaker was crisp in his ears, speaking on all frequencies on the moon, "The Fallen are attempting a colonization of the Moon. Remain strong and hold fast! the light of our warriors will prevail!" Great timing, buddy. Allen thought cynically, Really "up to date," huh? Meanwhile, we're taking on the brunt of their best!

Glancing up as a particularly loud bang was heard, a Fallen ketch flew over, and a monster of a drop ship lowered down, a Spider tank below it's belly. "Awe, fucking hell," He said aloud, "Guess the only easy day was yesterday." He slammed a fresh speed clip into the cylinder and raised the revolver, holographic sights melding in with his Heads Up Display.

---

Doran

The dragon had just been readying himself to engage whatever was left of the three Captains when he finally caught sight of his ally, and the skilled rocket that finished off the targets. Behind his visor he grinned, raising an arm in greeting as he stepped out from behind his cover and glanced around, checking his motion tracker for any remaining enemies. He was about to properly greet the fellow Guardian when he heard the Speaker's broadcast, frowning at the concurrent appearance of the massive ketch and the inbound Walker.

"Well. Certainly keeping things lively, aren't they?" he said into his helmet radio, on an open frequency for the other Warlock to pick up. He made a quick motion to his Ghost, who operated the transmat to replace the machine gun in his hands with a heavily built sniper rifle. "Ready for some hunting, friend?"

Allen

Allen heard the message and grinned. I'm starting to like this guy, He thought, raising a hand with a thumbs up. "Copy, big guy. Let's sound the horn." Slapping a fresh tube into his rocket launcher, he blinked up and took aim, using the splash of the explosion to create a small dust cloud while downing several lesser foes. "Right, on three, we split up. That tank can't aim in two places, so we'll divide up his fire. I'm almost charged up, a few more baddies, and I'm ready to blitz that hunk of metal. you?" He heard the Tank Drop down, and the audible tone of it charging up a round to fire.

There was a crackle and then, "Acknowledged, I'm less than half, but I'll try to make that up. Any plan for dealing with the grunts?" Allen smiled a bit, and replied, "Have a hope they won't try to kill their own, but that's leaving it to chance. A better bet is relying on a slow turret turning speed and that they slow even further when aiming to shoot."

Doran

The dragon smiled behind his visor, confident with how easily he and the other Guardian seemed to be coming together. He watched the tank from around his boulder as he gave one final check to make sure his sniper rifle had a full magazine, and nodded. "Sounds great. Dividing the tank's fire as widely as possible seems our best bet, then we'll hit it from both sides." Hefting his rifle and shifting to a crouch, he made ready to run for it. "Count us off when you're ready!"

Allen

The Equine took a breath before replying. "Okay, three, two, one, Let's break!" Allen put his best effort into sprinting out of cover, aiming for a small crater in the middle of his path. He popped a nova grenade, and burst the small crowd of Dregs at his right, clearing his path as best he could. He panted and strained, taking only a moments glance at the tank turret to give him the extra motivation he needed. As a crimson laser slowly followed him, he dived into the first series of craters, taking a breath before popping out to fire on a few Fallen that were too close. He finished three fallen Vandals when the sound of the cannon charging up stopped him. He dived down, and a large plume of moon dust floated over him, pulled down slowly by gravity. "Shit, that was close. You doing okay, buddy?"

He didn't wait for a reply, and instead began running to another crater, sliding into it and popping out only to return fire to the thinning fallen on foot. Line Rifle rounds and ark burn charges screamed overhead as he quickly returned fire, the distinct sound of a revolver firing back.

Doran

Doran made a break for it at Allen's signal, running in the opposite direction. Cover was sparse, but a few boulders and small craters were scattered about and would hopefully be enough. He paused in a shallow crater when he saw the tank tracking his companion, ignoring him for the moment.

"All right then, here's something else to think about..." he muttered to himself as he braced his rifle against the rim of the crater and took aim at one of the Walker's legs. The sniper rifle was a bit of a rarity; a bright red length of heavily reinforced machinery originally designed for use against armor and materiel, so rather perfect for the current occasion. Of course, the unusually high-calibre rounds tended to have rather satisfying results against soft targets, too. The Warlock had affectionately named the rifle 'Bloodhammer.'

The rifle cracked like thunder three times as Doran slammed round after round into the tank's forward left leg, trying to blast through the heavy plating and jam up one of the joints. If he could confound the tank's movement it would give his new friend a bit more breathing room.

Allen

Allen dodged a lightning grenade headed his way when he heard the rifle rounds. He peered over the lip of the crater and saw where the rounds landed and smiled. "Good on ya, Man. Keep at it!" Allen called through the radio. Not to be outdone, Allen fished out the final tube for his rocket launcher, half filled, and fired the last round to the back leg of the tank.

With a satisfying Thump, the missile rammed into the back leg. With the damage the sniper rifle did along with the resulting explosion, the tanks back legs gave out, causing a small dust cloud to form around the tank. In the midst of that, the tanks engine became exposed as it routed power to restore leg functionality. Allen took this time to lob a grenade at the exposed engine and add a few of his revolver rounds to the engine block.

Doran

Damaging that exposed engine block was the key to taking out one of these beasts, so Doran worked quickly to slam in a fresh magazine and line up his next shots. Pacing them as quickly as he could, he fired five rounds into the engine core one after the other, each shell penetrating deeply and making shrapnel of the machinery. Fire and lightning arced out of the tank as it underwent a hard reset and began to retract its core to safety, but between Doran's rifle rounds and Allen's grenade and revolver shots the great machine was beginning to shudder.

Allen

Allen grinned as he started seeing a small bit of smoke rise from the machines exhaust pipes. However, that grin was quickly killed as the turret revolved around to am at Doran. "Shit, get down, man!" Allen yelled over the microphone. He tried to fire a few shots at the tank, but it seemed to have more interest in the dragon over the horse.

Allen then took a risk. He asked his ghost to do a visual scan to see how much strength the tank had left in it. The robot replied with a crackle, "About halfway dead, it seems. What are you planning?" Allen grinned and said a small prayer to the Traveler. He then said, "I'm planning on popping that can open!" He then rushed out of his crater, sprinting as fast as he could.

Allen hoped what he had in mind would be enough, but just in case he asked his ghost to pop a heavy ammo synthesis. He grinned as his rocket counter went back up to five shots, and when he slid into an impact crater closer to the tank, reloaded his rocket launcher before continuing to run. When he got close enough to the tank, he jumped, and then "Blinked," Getting as high as he could over the machine. When he reached the top of his jump, he unleashed his held nova bomb, three smaller projectiles carpeting the machine as best he could. The tank buckled and groaned as it took the impact of the explosive void bombs, the front legs giving out and the armor on them shattering in the process. Allen would have fired his rockets as well, but he was too close to risk the explosion. With a second, weaker "Blink," He moved out of the way of the tank, and out of a good firing spot. "Buddy!" He yelled over the headset, "If you've got something, use it now!"

Doran

Doran paled slightly beneath his helmet as he saw the tank's targeting laser lock on to him, frantically scrambling for cover and realizing the shallow crater near him was the only thing close by, and it wasn't enough to shield him from a blast from that main gun. He began to run as fast as he could, moving sideways to the tank and blinking himself at every opportunity to try and stay ahead of the targeting beam. "If there's anything you can do to keep that thing off me I'd be greatly apprec-" he began into the radio. The blast cut him off, thundering into the ground an instant after his boots left the space. The shell erupted with him in mid-jump, just as he blinked away from the point of impact.The blink gave him the distance he needed to avoid the worst of the blast, but it still hit him like a train from behind and flung him forward. With a grunt he plowed into the gray dust several yards ahead of where he last left the ground, his shields completely depleted and his armor slightly charred. But he was still breathing.

He shook his head to try and dislodge the ringing in his ears, blinking a few times. His hearing began to clear just in time to catch the tail end of Allen's plea over his headset. His vision snapped to a corner of his HUD, and spotted that his Light had just finished recharging despite his near-death. Grinning, he planted his boots on the ground and channeled that Light into a concentrated sphere of void energy in the palm of his hand, then mirrored his companion's attack by hurling a trident of nova bombs at the tank's side closest to him. "You aren't the only thing out here with heavy artillery, you metal bastard..."

The three orbs impacted the tank's side heavily, collapsing into a trio of microsingularities. The implosions rocked the metal beast, buckling two of the legs and shredding the core machinery. The tank had already taken enough of a battering that its systems were struggling, and this final attack was enough to push it over the edge.

A warning alarm echoed from the machine as it slumped to the ground, sparks and arc lightning pouring from the separations in the armored plates as a chain reaction sent the internal systems into overload. The dragon relaxed and grinned as he watched, having fought enough Fallen walkers to recognize the signs. With a final metallic groan, the tank listed to one side and buried its head into the lunar dust, then erupted in a blinding flash as the reactor detonated.

The dragon casually walked toward the shattered wreckage of the tank, unconcerned by the small bits of debris the explosion hurled toward him. In the low gravity of the moon they fell lazily back to the ground, easy enough to sidestep or let his shield deflect. Only a few Fallen infantry remained, and Doran took a certain amount of grim satisfaction from the simple task of finishing them off with his heavy sniper rifle.

When he reached the tank's corpse he hopped up to perch atop it triumphantly, looking rather pleased with himself and glancing around for his companion. They'd both earned a small celebration, he thought, not to mention the chance to properly meet one another finally.

Allen

Allen stepped carefully through the carnage, the dead fallen and machine parts that separated him from his warlock ally a grim reminder of their victory. In the ear piece, he overheard the speakers voice again. "Guardians, the fallen are on the retreat! We have word that several teams of our warriors have driven their attacks off the Lunar surface." Allen weakly smiled, and continued to listen in. "Those who aided in driving off the Fallen will be rewarded. Speak to the Tower postmaster upon your return. And to all Guardians out in combat, let your light burn our enemies back to their corners!" The ghost chirped then, signalling that the transmission ended.

Allen hopped up on the former turret of the Tank, and flashed his helmet lights to the approaching warlock to show where he was. He then slid down the charred metal siding and stepped up to the other guardian. Allen offered a gloved paw which the other fur shook warmly and flashed a green light for a smile, his visor tinted to shield harsher light that comes from low atmosphere areas. "Well," Allen said over the headset, "That was fun."

"Fun?!" His ghost beeped, adopting a sarcastic tone, "Oh sure, just wiped out a fallen battalion with armored support. Nothing to see here. Just daily life."

Allen Chuckled, "And that, my warlock ally, is Jake." He nodded to the ghost. "And who might you be, Sir?"

The dragon grinned in silent mirth and replied, "Doran, My name is Doran." He offered a small and polite bow, and continued in a mildly regal voice. "Dragon of the Scorched Brotherhood, and slayer of Dark enemies. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing, Guardian?"

Allen wished he didn't have a helmet on, he was tearing up in laughter at hearing the false accent. He tried his best to fight laughter with laughter, and replied in an overly dramatic voice, "Allen Smithfield, Clydesdale of the Long Patrol." He took a knee and extended his bow greatly for humorous effect. "At your service, good firedrake"

Doran

Doran wasn't able to keep a straight face much longer. His laughter crackled over the radio and he shook his head, resting his hands on his hips and stretching his wings just a little, as much as he could with them tucked into their pressurized pockets beneath his long coat. "'Doran' will do just fine, really. It's a pleasure to meet you Allen. Damned fine work with those Fallen, felt like we make a pretty good team."

Allen

Allen smiled beneath his Visor and swished his tail, grinning at the compliment. "Mighty kind of ya, Doran, though you weren't a scrub out there either. Tell ya what, hows about we both beam up to orbit, take this back to the tower, and share a victory reward back at the tower. I'd love to keep talking here, but..." I wave a gloved paw over the wasted fallen. "I don't think this makes that good'a scenery, ye know?"

He turned to his ghost, and with a nod, the robot sent Dorans Ghost his Ship coordinates. Before he "Beamed" up, he turned back with a wide grin on his furred face. "Oh, and don't be late, It's a roaring shame to be late"

Doran

The dragon returned the grin, nodding his agreement as he nodded to his own Ghost to bring his ship into position and prep the transmat system. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He relaxed back into the transmat beam as he joined Allen in orbit, settling back into the familiar pilot's chair as he eased off his helmet. After his usual few breaths of silence he glanced over the armored hood, inspecting the new patches of char and chuckling as he remembered the near-miss of that cannon round.

"Set a course for the Tower, and hold formation with our new friend whenever he's ready to go." The Ghost gave a chirp of acknowledgement as Doran gazed out the view screens. Allen's own jump ship could now be seen in a parallel orbit a few hundred meters away. When the other ship's engines flared and accelerated it to near-light speed, or NLS as it was generally abbreviated, Doran's own followed close behind. The dragon rested his head back against the seat, relaxing and letting his eyes unfocus a little, content to spend the next few moments just losing himself in the colored streaks of light that made up the NLS landscape.

Allen

Allen threw some switches, mostly letting his ghost handle the flight mechanics of NLS. Then he turned his visor on to external ship view, and turned in time to see Dorans ship come in line with his. He grinned and then to his ghost said, "Okay, time to jump, put on some classics, okay? His ghost let out a crackle that he came to know as a groan. "Why can't you listen to regular guardian music?" his ghost said. Allen chuckled and replied without a missing a beat, "Because Techno sucks! Now crack up some of that Creedence!" As the ship accelerated to near light speed, Allen sang along lustily with the music, "Woah, thought it was a nightmare, lord it was so true. They told me don't go walkin' slow, 'cause the devils on the loose."