[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/211364650?sort=0&page=0]Chapter III[/url] // [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/213136841?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1]Chapter V[/url] The Dreg’s name was Nariks. The shock grenade had wounded him something fierce. Fortunately, his ether supply was unharmed. He’d survive, even though a bit scarred. Nariks casually wandered about the wreckage—looking at this, tinkering with that, inspecting the corpses of his late companions—as we waited. Arein suggested tying him up, making him feel helpless; I decided against it. Even if he wasn’t injured, where was he going to go? The skiff was gone, and the clearing was far too open—he wouldn’t get five feet before I gunned him down. There were moments when Nariks looked away from the twisted, damaged steel in his hands and glanced at me. Then his helmet would dip, and his glowing blue eyes found the iron at my hip. Other times, he eyed Arein and the two blades—undoubtedly familiar in their style and destruction—on his hips. He was calculating his odds. But he knew there wasn’t a chance, not even on the darkest night, and resumed pilfering through the ruin and dead. “What’s he doing?” Arein asked. “They’re scavengers,” I replied matter of factly. “These stopped being his fellow Fallen the moment we killed them. Now, they’re just possible supplies.” Arein scoffed in disgust. “No loyalty.” “What did I tell you about the will to survive? Without a Servitor, he’ll run out of ether. He needs to find whatever he can to make sure that doesn’t happen.” “You talk like he’s got much longer to live, anyway,” Arein said curiously. I shrugged. “He doesn’t know that.” Valence and the others arrived shortly before dawn, gliding into the clearing on their sparrows. “You’re a little late to the party,” Arein said with a chuckle. Valence dismounted his sparrow and looked around. “So it would seem. I thought we agreed on recon only?” I raised my hand. “I was made—Arein was backing me up.” Paean stepped beside Valence, her pale white armor a stark contrast to his dark one. She gestured to Nariks with the muzzle of the sleek auto rifle—one of the original Suros Regimes—in her hands. “Huh. It looks like you missed one.” Arein laughed. “His idea, as well.” Paean Cor’s grudge against the Fallen, especially the Wolves, was personal. While her loyalty to the Vanguard was absolute, as an Awoken, she both respected and adored the Reef Queen. She’d been among one of the first to respond to the Queen’s call for aid, and happily hunted down the traitorous dogs that dared try and claim her Queen’s life. That same hatred burned cold for the Hive and Taken now, as well. “When did we get in the business of taking prisoners?” Paean asked. I shook my head. “He isn’t a prisoner.” Paean leveled her auto rifle, disengaging the safety. “Good. Then you won’t mind if I put him down.” I shrugged. “It’s no skin off my back. Besides, I’m sure you know what those Wolves are doing out here; what they’re planning; what they’re looking for; and who that Captain leading them was. Right?” Valence glanced at Paean, slowly shaking his head. She lowered her rifle. Andromeda scoffed. “Typical Titan. Always so quick to kill something.” Paean shrugged. “Not everything has to be a game of chess.” Midas stepped into view; his black robes were embroidered with the golden markings of the Praxic Order. “Ladies, please. We’ve more pressing matters right now than pointless bickering.” Along with Andromeda, Midas was one of the few Warlocks I found to be good company. He was a living encyclopedia of knowledge, a tome of secrets and mysteries I’d never understand, and he respected that. Midas spoke plainly when not in the company of his fellow warrior scholars, and left the riddles and half-answers to those fond of them. Valence nodded at me while he stepped off to the side. I followed him, closer to the edge of the clearing. “Can you break him?” “Break him?” I scoffed. “Look at him, Valence. He’s already broken.” Valence glanced at Nariks. “Can you make him talk?” I shrugged. “Probably.” “Yes or no.” “Then, yes.” “You’re positive? I’d rather not leave you here if it’s going to be a waste of time.” It was difficult to be positive about anything out here. Interrogating wasn’t a simple equation, and torturing someone—even a Fallen—wasn’t my forte. But, I had a few ideas. “He’ll talk,” I said more confidently. Valence nodded. “All right. We’ll push on ahead, then. Catch up when you’re finished.” -- o -- Nariks and I studied each other in silence. I was sitting on the edge of the Fallen comm hub, dangling Whisper in my off hand—a promise, a warning. Nariks sat across from me on the ground, removing pieces—small chips, cords, even segments of plated steel—from a Shank, then the corpse of a Vandal. But he never failed to glance at me, then my piece, every so often. “So, you said you have things to tell me?” I asked. Nariks paused his pilfering. “Curious. Yes?” I nodded. “What can you tell me about the Wolves?” Nariks released a low, strange sound—something close to a snort, but closer to a snarl. “Weapons for Baron,” he said. “Kell is dead. Prime is dead. Wolves are scattered. Need leader.” “What kind of weapons?” Nariks shrugged. “Any. All.” “Something specific?” Nariks shook his head. “Many supplies here. Many possibilities.” Grey appeared in a mist of Light, floating nearby. “You were right,” he said to me. I nodded. “Unfortunately.” Then I looked at Nariks. “Who is this Baron and what weapons does he have so far?” That sound again. “Iksis,” he replied. “Smart, cunning, powerful.” Nariks continued searching the Vandal corpse. “Ruthless.” I tapped Whisper against the comm again, stealing Nariks’ attention. “He’s making a play to become Kell?” Nariks nodded. “Need new leader.” That strange sound. “Or Wolves remain scattered. Soon extinct.” “So, what’s he doing here?” “Plenty packs on Earth,” Nariks replied. “Unite. Move on. Repeat.” [i]Until they settle down where?[/i] “They have a destination in mind?” Nariks shook his head. “Anywhere.” I didn’t like that answer. The dream of a hopeful Baron was problem enough, but if he became Kell and had a Fallen army behind him to see vision made a reality? The thought made my trigger finger itch. We didn’t need another Skolas debacle on our hands. With Mara Sov missing, I had doubts the Reef would be too eager to lend any assistance—their resources were already stretched much too thin. “How many fly under Iksis’s banner already?” I asked. Nariks stopped. “Many. Was quick to react to losses.” [i]Quick to capitalize,[/i] I thought. Grey hovered close to my helmet. “So, what are you going to do with him?” Nariks glanced at my piece. He’d been expecting it. I slid off the comm station and stepped closer to him, crouching low as he continued to fiddle with the Vandal’s suit. “You want to live?” I asked. Nariks stopped. “Yes.” If Mara Sov had tamed an entire pack of wolves, even temporarily, what was to keep me from showing a single pup the Light? “Will you work with me—for me, if I let you live?” I raised my hand, giving him a better view of Whisper; my finger hovered over the trigger. Nariks nodded. “Yes.” “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” Nariks released another strange, scraping sound—a chuckle. “No reason to lie. Stranded. Alone. Will die eventually, otherwise.” I rose to my full height, holstering Whisper. Nariks followed. “Grey, give us an encrypted channel,” I said with a glance at the Ghost, then turned my attention back to Nariks. I accessed his injuries again. Mostly burns, but a few chunks of flying shrapnel had gashed his armor, leaving nasty cuts along his arms and legs. “And transmat my first aid kit.” I can’t tell you how many times I’d been mocked for having bothered studying first aid during my days as a new Guardian. Many considered it pointless in the face of being raised, no matter the severity of an injury. But what about the times when we strayed too far from the Traveler’s Light? What about the times when the Darkness was too thick, or our Ghosts were damaged or lost? Pointless? I called it being prepared. My kit stayed stocked at all times (thanks to the Tower’s medical wing). I tended to Nariks’s burns, dressed his cuts, and provided enough balms and fresh bandages to last him a good while. “With that skiff damaged, what will Iksis do now?” Nariks shrugged, testing his bandaged arms. “Retreat. Cosmodrome.” [i]That’s where he’s hiding his army?[/i] “What for? The Kings and Devils are still carving out their own territories there. Seems a bit dangerous.” “Wasteful Houses,” Nariks replied. “Found plenty weapons in shadow of Wall. Lurking, still scouring. Many wolves still there.” It was easy to see how Iksis climbed the Wolves’ hierarchy. Not only was he resourceful, but he was cunning, as well. You could disappear in a foreign territory with two, more dominant Houses, fighting each other around you—leaving you and your allies all the scraps you could desire. Combined with the Hive and Taken threat, both still a grave issue in the Cosmodrome, the Wolves would be all but invisible to the Vanguard’s radar. “You’ll need to hole up somewhere,” I mentioned casually. “Skiff,” Nariks replied. It sounded reasonable. “Could be a good distance away. A couple of miles, at least. You sure you’re up for walking?” “Pikes nearby,” he explained. “Left behind. Will ride.” I tapped the side of my helmet. “I’ll let you know once we’ve secured the area and moved on. You’ll be free to setup after that.” Nariks nodded. “Try to keep your head down while you move,” I mentioned off-handedly. “Another Guardian sees you, and they’re likely to blow you away without questioning. You understand?” I highly doubted there'd be another Guardian this far in the wilds, but it never hurt to be cautious. We Hunters often crossed paths without even knowing it. Nariks chuckled—that quiet, scraping, metallic sound. “Yes.”