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Edited by DJCornford: 4/8/2015 10:03:45 PM
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Destiny Survivors of The Wastes - 8. The Dreg.

(Links to previous chapters in comments). Miskorix dragged its feet as it moved through the tunnel so that other Dreg were forced to push past. It flinched, but resisted the urge to strike back at those that violently shoved and backhanded it as they passed. Humility was needed to survive. There were seventeen of them, each cautiously moving through the passageways with shock pistols ready and shock knives raised and spitting electrical sparks. Behind them stalked three Vandals. Miskorix glanced back at them as they growled for the Dregs to keep moving. This was the second group that had been forced down here and the Vandals were worried. The Dreg could see it plainly by the way they kept nervously clutching their weapons and swivelling their heads from side to side as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. If truth were told, they were all worried. Barely half of the first group had returned and all of those that had were now dead. Still no one knew why. Miskorix allowed another to move past, quickly ducking its head to avoid being cuffed by the butt of the other's pistol as it was swung savagely at its head. It had no desire to be the first to meet what was killing them. The Dreg was determined not to die down here. It ran a clawed hand over the stone wall as it walked. Regular grooves and ridges showed that it was obviously machined. [i]Crude.[/i] So much of this place, this race was crude. Even after The Traveler had come it had remained so. The Dreg felt its anger stir. Humans. There was no dignity to them, no majesty. No grandeur. The Traveler had bestowed gifts to animals that had thought to take the universe with them. Miskorix's anger boiled. Savages. Unworthy savages. The humans had risen on the back of what they could never have produced themselves whilst they, a race of Kings with a rich history and deep culture stretching back millennia and spanning countless star systems with technology the humans could only have dreamed of had fallen. Another Dreg slapped at its face mask as it made to pass and this time Miskorix did not hold back. A swift kick swept its legs away and Miskorix lashed out with its shock knife as it fell. The blade bit deeply, slicing through one of the stumps of the Dreg's amputated arms and into its torso. Miskorix let it's anger consume it, standing over the other fallen Dreg howling in rage and hatred. Something suddenly hit the side of its face hard and then it was sliding down the nearest rock wall to sit in a disorientated crumpled heap on the dusty ground. It's vision swam and both heat and pain were pounding in its skull. Slowly it could see again and it stared into the glowing optics of one of the Vandals. "Are you too worthless for even this, Dreg?" Miskorix shook its head, trying to jar away the fog smothering its thoughts and attempted to speak. The barrel of a shock rifle suddenly pushing against its throat stilled it. "If you do something like that again, I will kill you. If you do anything you have not been tasked to do, anything your betters do not want you to do, I will kill you. Get up, gather your worthlessness and continue". Under the Vandal's flat, unwavering stare Miskorix pushed itself to its feet, lowered its eyes to the ground and hurried to catch-up with the others. [i]Humility. Humility is needed to survive, [/i]the Dreg reminded itself as its claws clenched its shock knife tightly. The other Dreg raised a claw wet with it's own blood towards the Vandal. "Pathetic", it spat under its breath, kicking the wounded Dreg as it passed. "Live or die, choose", it's comrade said flatly also walking past. They found the hole a mile further on. The passageway they travelled through had collapsed into another, narrower one underneath. A short sharp command sent the Dregs leaping one after the other into the space below, the Vandals following close behind. Miskorix immediately saw that the space they now walked through had been hewn from the rock with hand tools rather than machinery and was undoubtably far older than the previous passage. It's curiosity piqued. Something here had caught the attention of the Kell of it's house and so Miskorix wanted it. It needed it. To climb from the non-existent space it was in now it needed something remarkable to happen. It felt a shiver pass through its body. There was a very high possibility it could die down here. There was little else it could do though. Dregs were cannon fodder. Expendable. This was its best chance. Head down, it followed the others deeper into the earth.

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  • The story so far: - Survivors of The Wastes - 1. Today there are Seven: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/104801667/0/0/1[/url] - Survivors of The Wastes - 2. Breaking Point: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/105040259/0/0/1[/url] - Survivors of The Wastes - 3. The Vandal: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/106958511/0/0/1[/url] - Survivors of The Wastes - 4. The Single Shot: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/107926734/0/0/1[/url] - Survivors of The Wastes - 5. Flight: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/110284809/0/0[/url] - Survivors of The Wastes - 6. Honour: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/112746173/0/0[/url] - Survivors of The Wastes - 7. Desolation: [url]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/112886293/0/0[/url]

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