Hello, everybody, here's a short fan fiction I wrote! If you like it, please check out my other fan fiction,[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/218649250?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1] Into the Hellmouth! [/url]And shoutout to[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Profile/254/10942702] Paradox1055,[/url] a fellow fan fiction writer who helped me out a little with the lore! Alu’usk took another step forward, the red dust crunching beneath his metal boots. His armor wheezed, and his breath was becoming increasingly ragged as his suit’s power and air supply slowly depleted. He’d sealed the main tear in his suit in time, but there was only so much you could do to compensate for the outside pressure. He could almost feel the planet’s atmosphere outside him, waiting for his suit to breach so it could suck out his guts. Alu’usk was dying, and he knew it. Every passing second brought the legionary closer to death. He laughed bitterly at the thought. Had he died in the initial years of the invasion, he might have been happy. He would have died with honor, with the knowledge that he would have been heralded as a hero once his commanders finished their conquest of this star system. But now? Now, he would die Tarkis - outcast. His name would remain scraped from the Hall of Warriors, and his family would disown him - pretend that he had never existed, now that his failure had shown his unworthiness to bear the Alu family name. And if they ever mentioned his name again, he would no longer be their dear Alu’usk, but simply usk. A name reserved for deserters, traitors, and failures. For the first time in many years, tears welled in Alu’usk’s eyes. He blinked - warriors do not cry, he thought - but then he remembered that he was no longer a warrior. He was an outcast of the Empire - a failure who should have died in the Wilds. Alu’usk took another shambling step forward, and then collapsed into the sand. Eventually, he turned himself over to look up at the sky, slug rifle in hand. The cabal soldier remembered the day he had departed from the Cabal homeworld. He had stood alongside his brothers and sisters, with the famed Primus Ta’aun at the head of their legion, his bond brothers at his side. The Primus and his brothers had been bred from the finest gene pool, and augmented with the best equipment that the Cabal scientists had to offer. Alu’usk was humbled to be serving alongside them. The Emperor himself had arrived to send the Skyburners on their way. Before he had been emperor, he had fought alongside Ta’aun in many military campaigns. Not once had they ever retreated, and not once had they ever lost. The young legionnaire watched in awe as the Emperor walked up to the Primus. “Primus Ta’aun,” he said. “The people of the Cabal empire have chosen you to lead the attack on the Sol system. Do you accept this responsibility?” Unflinching, the Primus clasped his hands together. “I do,” he said. The Emperor likewise clasped his hands. “Then kneel.” The Primus obeyed, and kneeled before his emperor. The emperor reached to one side, and grabbed a metal rod as long as a Harvester. On one end was a circular object, engraved with the symbol of the Outcast. The emperor flicked a switch on the rod, and the circular end came to life, glowing with heat. The Emperor walked behind Ta’aun, and ripped the robes from his back. Then, he pressed the heated end down on the Primus’s back. Ta’aun did not even flinch. “Now, Primus Ta’aun, I mark you as Tarkis!” the Emperor said. “Defeat the enemy, or do not come home at all!” Now naked, the wound on his neck still smoldering, the Primus stood up, and faced his emperor. “I shall return home in glory!” he shouted. The army went wild, shouting with joy. The Emperor’s attendants activated their own brasiers, and the soldiers surged forth, eager to become marked as outcasts - as soldiers! Alu’usk remembered the feeling of heated metal pressed against his flesh - how glorious it had been! He had shouted with joy, despite the pain. He would bring honor to himself and his family - he would be enshrined alongside the greatest of all warriors, his name forever marked in the hall of the Emperor - he would become immortal! But now, Alu’usk knew the truth. He would bring home no glory - he would die alone, another corpse buried beneath the planet’s shifting sands. First, those machines had come, materializing from clouds of smoke, traveling through their wretched gates in limitless hordes. Phalanx shields were no use against an enemy that could simply teleport behind them. But at least they could be killed. Unlike those strange, armored beings that had come to the planet - those Guardians! They would massacre a hundred legionaries at a time, taking out legions, tanks, Brachi, Vali, anything that stood in their way. AND THEY SIMPLY WOULD NOT DIE!!!! But this latest enemy had been the final straw. Alu’usk had watched as his brothers and sisters were yanked into the void, screaming all the way. Then, they would return, but changed. They looked as though a black, slimy film had been draped over their bodies, and they no longer recognized their former comrades, whom they killed with impunity. It was all too much for the poor legionary. After hundreds of engagements with thousands of enemies, the young recruit was now a weathered veteran. But seeing these enemies had been too much for him. And so, he had ran. Where he would run to, the legionary knew not. All he knew was that he had to get away from these abominations! And now, he was paying the price. He would not die gloriously in battle, but he would die alone - an outcast. Alu’usk felt the life leaving his body. It would not be long now, he knew. The sands would claim him soon enough. Quern sped through the Marian dunes on his sparrow. “Any sings of the Taken, ghost?” he asked. “Negative,” his ghost replied. “Not a trace of them since we cleared out that base.” Quern nodded. They’d been investigating a distress signal from a cabal base, and, upon arriving, found nothing but Taken. They’d cleared out Oryx’s hordes, and then taken a look around. The entire garrison had been killed. Apparently, the legionaries had made their last stand in the back of the base. The phalanxes had held their shields in front, while the legionaries shot from behind them. One of the centurions had even managed to salvage an interceptor, and began using it as artillery in an attempt to hold off the Taken. As far as Quern could tell, the Cabal had only shattered once they ran out of ammunition. Quern had always admired that about the cabal - they stubbornly refused to retreat, even during the most dire circumstances. And they never abandoned their brothers in arms. They would fight alongside each other right down to the last bullet. In fact, they were not unlike certain titans that Quern knew. “Hold up,” his ghost said. “I’m detecting something up ahead. Marking it on you HUD.” A small marking appeared on Quern’s field of vision. “Thanks, ghost,” he said. He sped off in the direction of the marker. Quern arrived at the marker a few minutes later. “Where is it, Ghost?” he asked. “Right over that dune,” his ghost replied. Quern hopped off his sparrow. He began to walk up the dune, and then walked down it’s other side. “Ah.” Lying in the Martian sand was a cabal legionary, it’s breath raspy and intermittent. The legionary meekly raised it’s head, looking up at the Guardian. Quern stared right back at it. “Probably a survivor from the base,” his ghost said. Quern continued to stare at the dying legionary. “What’s it thinking?” he asked. His ghost was silent for a moment. “I don’t know, Quern,” he said. “This is the first time one of them hasn’t been trying to kill us.” Quern stared at the cabal foot soldier. “What are you thinking?” Alu’usk continued to stare at the thing before him. He’d never seen one of the Guardians up close. He’d probably be dead if he had. He was mildly surprised that he wasn’t dead yet - Guardians generally shot his ilk on sight. He wished the Guardian had. Even now, he prayed for death. He would die dishonored, yes - but at least his torment would end! Then, he remembered something. His slug rifle still had several rounds in it - perhaps enough to give him a fighting chance! No - that was a lie. Alu’usk knew that he would not survive. But he told himself the lie nonetheless. He told himself that he would kill the Guardian - he would savage it with his fists! He would kill it! He would have his honor! Strength filled his dying limbs. Grasping his slug rifle, Alu’usk began to point it at the Guardian. HONOR!!!! Then, Alu’usk felt a brief pinch at the front of his skull. And then, he felt no more. The legionary’s body crumpled back down to the ground, gas hissing out of the hole in his helmet. Quern lowered his hand cannon. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed down?” he asked. The dead legionary remained silent. Quern sighed. “Any more readings, ghost?” “None,” he replied. “I guess that was it.” Quern nodded. He hopped on his sparrow, and then paused. He looked back one last time at the dead legionary. And then, he looked forward, and sped off on his sparrow, leaving the body to be covered by the Martian sands.