The Executor - Chapter 2 The punches were quick and sharp. Scruff continued to sway his head, his throbbing jaw a reminder of what waited if he stopped. He felt the breeze as the fists cut the air just centimeters from his unarmored face. Scruff saw his opponent's shoulder tense and knew a strong, right cross was coming. This was his chance. His left hand shot up, parrying the cross from the outside. The fist grazed his beard. He passed the punch to his right hand, grabbing the wrist. Scruff's right foot swung backwards and to the left. He pulled the fist with him, and his left hand slid to the attacker's elbow. He pushed the elbow and pulled the wrist simultaneously. The leveraged force pulled his assailants chest down with the arm, as he they were bowing. Scruff continued to pivot, and as they spun, he could feel the pressure in the elbow and shoulder joints building. Just before he felt them snap, he released the arm, and watched as the other guardian tumbled to the ground. "Ooh. Nice one, hon!" Sweetheart floated beside the ring. Her chassis shuddered with obvious delight. She turned to the ghost next to her. "That'll be fifty glimmer, sucker!" Scruff reached a hand down to his fellow Titan. "Sweetheart, how many times have I told you not to bet on my fights? It makes me look mean." The other guardian grabbed the offered hand, and Scruff pulled him to his feet. "Damn. I almost had your ass. Where the -blam!-'d you learn to do that?" The young Striker seemed unfazed by his recent fall, and was already spouting questions. "Man, boxing is one thing, but I've never seen shit like that." "It's called a standing arm-bar. I can teach you, but I can't tell you where I learned it." His answer was sincere. Ever since Sweetheart had brought his sorry carcass back to life, Scruff had shown an affinity for unarmed combat that bordered on prodigy. Her's best guess, was that his skills were a remnant of what ever life he'd had before he had died. "That's a damn shame. Memory problems, huh? We all know how that feels. The name's Wally by the way, and gotta show me some moves sometime." He offered his hand. Scruff shook it gratefully. "Nice to meet you, Wally. Those fists of yours are pretty damn sharp. I'm lucky I've still got teeth to smile with. If you're ever looking to throw down again, call me up anytime." The handshake was had an air of mutual respect. They heard a cough. "Ahem. I'm sorry, am I interrupting something? I can come back when you two have finished your little moment." Scruff recognized the sarcastic tone immediately. "Sorry, Lena. I didn't mean to make you jealous, dear." He put on his best shit-eating grin as he turned to face her. "I promise I won't date anyone else for a while after the divorce." "As if I'd lower myself so much as to let you lick my boots. Much less let you put a ring on this." Her smile was perfect mix of confidence and distaste. If looking smug was a sport, she's win gold every time. At the sound of her honeyed voice, all the other sparring guardians in Training Rec Center Thirty-Two stopped they're routines, and turned to watch their exchange. Some whistled when they saw Lena. He had to admit; she was attractive. She had dark hair, a combat ready body, and eyes so deep, it was like staring into her signature nova bomb. Her skin was a light, blue hue with that odd shimmer that all Awoken have. It was almost as if the ice in her veins was visible through her skin. Scruff wondered if you could see her black heart under that blouse. He stared for a second too long, and her smugness faded to disdain. "If you're done checking me out, we have a mission. Meet me in orbit over the American continent at 1530 hours. Don't be late." With that, she spun on her heel and stormed off. "Don't count on it, darlin'. I already told you; we're done!" He shouted down the hall after her. She flipped the bird over her shoulder in response. "Who's the bitch?" Wally had watched the exchange in respectful silence, but you could tell he was barely containing his laughter at the spectacle. Scruff fought the the decision of what to do next. "That bitch is my partner. See you later Wally." He shook the Striker's hand again in farewell. His ghost floated over. Even without a face, her expression gave Lena's some steep competition. "Sweetheart, synthesize my armor and bring us orbit. We better see what she wants." "Honey, you're a worse sucker than Wally's ghost, but fine." Her eye glowed as his helmet was assembled. "Don't coming crying to me when she shoots you in the back. Dumb ass." --------------------------------------------------- Read Ch. 1 Here https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/98181297/0/0 Read Ch. 3 Here https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/100492592/0/0