"What about the Vault?" It was a valid question. Every head in the room turned to regard the Warlock when he spoke, though. This Warlock, hardly accepted among others of his cloth, still managed to throw of those of more like mind. Here among the Vanguard Assault Lance, self styled heavies for hire, mention of a goal left incomplete should have been more popular. This time, those present only turned to look at him in what amounted to collective exasperation. I'll explain. Fault was the one who spoke. He, as you know from my previous tales, is a being of courage and speed and undiscipline and balance. To his right sat Sivi, a new and quiet presence. 'She' most likely being an Exo. She would not take off her helmet. To her right, the young Titan Wally---Jefferey Walters---who constantly clicked a small data pad open and closed. Still in his armor from the waist down, reflecting the hastily assembled meeting. He was shifted, and seemed bored. He always does. Further to his right, rounding the end of the table, sat Fox. She, until Fault spoke, had been staring at Wally. Orange glowing eyes shooting him daggers, silently demanding that he stop clicking. A Warlock as well, but none at all the sort of Fault. Fox is a creature of explosive flames. An innocent demeanor covering a reactor just looking for an excuse to showcase the full destructive capacity of her critical state. To her right, moving along the opposite side of the table, was Ricochet. He sat with his massive armored arms folded over a massive armored chest. He sat on a stool which groaned under his weight. He'd been gazing distractedly at the ceiling fan until Fault spoke. Further to the right, yet another Titan. Called Cold, a surprising attendee to this particular gathering. Cold is a soldier through and through. A defender of the people. A representative for those with soft voices, a spearhead to pierce the opponents for the sake of those with soft bodies. He cast a calm gaze around, seeming fairly amused by the banter until that question. When his eyes fell on Fault, it was with knit eyebrows. Curiosity. To his right further, a hunter who eschewed the notion of sitting in a chair. She rest on the edge of the table, legs crossed at the knee. Black body suit mostly obscured by her deep red cape. She goes by Amyra. She claims she's from Mars. She works for the highest bidder. She rarely misses. She didn't turn to look at Fault when he spoke, as her back was to him, but she did tip her helmet clad head to the right slightly and recross her legs opposite to their form orientation. Whatever that meant. Lastly at the other end of the table from Fox was Bishop. He'd spent the entire meeting distractedly fiddling with the hilt of an Arc blade, occasionally unintentionally releasing a shower of white sparks. He stopped what he was doing to pause and look at Fault. Eagle hung about the edge of the room, opposite Dusk. Both hunter. Both prone to hovering silently. "...what about it?" Ricochet shrugged his heavy plated shoulders. "Offensive there seems to be going just fine. Few mutha-blam!-as still getting erased by Oracles. But not our problem. That's a matter of time---and the pay's not there anymore. Tower's confident in that fight. People are going in for glory now. Not our area." "We could probably save the city a few casualties if we went in to help." Fox spoke up, her shining gaze shifting to Ricochet. "We could also probably turn a few of us into casualties. The Vault isn't war. The Vault's a maze of traps that the City's throwing sheer numbers at. Not our area. If the stupids want to run in and die, let them." Ricochet met her gaze. Her expression stiffened. He didn't blink, or flinch. And all present knew that to be a conversation that would be settled later, sometime away from the table, some place quiet. "Of course. Sir." If words could burn, Fox would surely be responsible for many cases of spontaneous combustion by tone alone. "Hey now. Lets not get testy here." Cold smiled, drawing his gaze from the now at odds couple to look around the table. "Times are tense. But my brother in armor here, despite his obvious contempt for a concept of [i]noblesse oblige [/i], might have a point. There are plenty of fronts opening up, around the system. Might not be wise to throw everything we've got in one direction." "I'd rather be the first." Amyra remarked. "Looks like bravery. People will pay for bravery." Ricochet, Eagle and Dusk grunted in agreement. "The Vex are trying to delete us from existence. And people are going to keep going in there and dying unless we finish that fight. Can't win anywhere else if everyone's dead in the Vault. Plus, we had a goal." Up until mentioning their goal, he was looking around in appeal. His follow up was spoken directly to Ricochet. "We had a goal." "Goals change, boy. Objectives shifts. Uncertain times we live in---" Cold began, as urbanely as ever. Fault interrupted him. "My name's not 'boy', random. And our objectives don't usually shift. Until some no-name politico shows up, it seems. If you've done nothing, you mean nothing here. Understand?" "He is an ally. Be polite." Fox fired back immediately. "Kinda agree with Fault here." Wally added, and stopped clicking finally. "We're all on the same side." Cold raised his hands, smirking. A bit mockingly on his part, if I may say from my position of neutrality. "I'm around to help you good folks do what you do best, with a bit of support. And give an insight as to how the tower 'politco' types might react. Taking advantage of momentum is a good thing. Right now momentum leans toward being proactive. People want to see a decisive strike elsewhere. You're all very good at decisive strike. I can commit some additional resources." "We're not done what we set out to do." Fault repeated. "From the sounds of it, they're getting ready for full scale war on the moon. An invasion force. Hive are all about numbers. Invasions are all about numbers. If we can get in there and thin that out, get a head start, we'll look real good for it. They let us keep the...Vanguard Assault Lance name. Lets go assault something." Bishop finally spoke up. "Just not the Vault." Fault repeated. "...alright. Votes. All for?" Ricochet broke in. Nine of ten hands went up. He gave another shrug, and knit his dark brow. "Sorry kid. I don't really like it either. Operation: Smashvault is sidelined for now. Lets get all we can on the moon, on the Hive, and make a target order on what needs to be wrecked. Cold?" "Ricochet?" "Let the council know where we're going to be making noise. Though I'm sure Diss already did." ********** Keep a look out for the next VAL update, Battle Plans PART 2! The Vanguard Assault Lance is established, and despite not completing their primary objective it's time to make the next move. But what's got Fault so concerned?