Luna, moon to the Earth, fortress of the Hive of Crota’s Brood, was as silent and foreboding as a tomb. Itsbgrey and white surface was pitted with craters, and occasionally opened in chasms filled with the unnatural green light of Hive magic. Tunnels and catacombs, tombs and caverns and chambers laced through it, dug by train sized horrors and jagged claws, inhabited by green eyed nightmares that gnawed on bones in the dark, growled and chittered at one another, plotted and communicated in ways no one but themselves could understand. Sometimes abandoned buildings from the Golden Age and before stretched across the surface and beneath it, sheltering four armed scavengers, desperately struggling to survive against the monsters that stalked them from the shadows and the dead soldiers that slaughtered them in droves and the inhospitable environment of the rock that they clung to. Away from the areas mainly patrolled by Guardians and held by the Fallen - away from prying eyes - chambers and valleys hid hordes of Hive, silently multiplying, performing rituals, killing and consuming to feed their worms, waiting for the day they would be called to seed the Light filled planet nearby and consume all that it contained. One of these chambers buzzed with silent activity. An enormous mound of lunar rock, tunnels cutting through it, dug by the jagged claws of persistent Hive, hid within it chambers and catacombs where Thrall fed on piles of bones, where Knights sharpened their blades, where Acolytes and Wizards chanted to the ascendant realm and called to their gods, where brood and eggs and pupae were tended to by doting mother Witches. From the edge of the tunnel and behind scattered rocks, glowing green eyes watched for signs of danger, ready to dart away at a moments notice. A drone-like Thrall, rotted teeth grinding together, peered out into the distance. Something moved - bright blue eyes flashed and then disappeared . Burning eyes widened, legs tensed to run into the nest to warn of danger, and a searing bolt of Arc cut through the air and drilled a hole through its chest and shoulder blades that made it collapse into a pile of ash. Other drones, screeching in alarm, drew weapons, others moving towards the nest. More crackling fire eliminated Hive with clinical precision, snuffing out burning green eyes with well placed shots. The unseen sharpshooters moved forwards - footsteps barely making a sound on the cold lunar rock. Without warning, Hive screeched and spilled out of their nest like a swarm of angry ants. The wire rifles thrummed once again, arc singeing the air and cutting down more of the monsters where they stood. As the creatures kept bolting forwards, Thrall and Acolytes and Knights - the booming of scorch cannons rent the air, obliterating a dozen thrall with a deafening explosion and a bright fireball, scattering their ashes into the air with the force of the blast to drift back down. The Hive ran suicidally forwards despite the barrage of wire rifle bolts and scorch cannon shots mowing them down, until a Knight and a wizard hiding in the tunnels relayed roars and groans that made them retreat, into ditches and tunnels and behind boulders. In the distance, four armed figures, cloaks flapping with their movement, enormous scorch cannons in their hands, hissed orders to underlings, cloaked and noncloaked alike. Fallen foot soldiers advanced, not in loose mobs like the ones that frequented Luna, but in organized packs. An unlucky group was taken by surprise by two thrall hiding behind a boulder. The bony creatures screeched and lunged for their prey. A dreg gurgled, throat torn out by long claws, collapsing before its brethren. The other Thrall pounced on a Vandal, stabbing it with long claws, teeth gnashing. The vandal snarled in anger, growls turning high pitched to fear and pain. The remnants of the pack retreated a few paces and grouped up, vandals with wire rifles and shock rifles in front, dregs and vandals wielding blades sizzling with Arc slightly behind them, waiting their chance. The thrall bolted forwards, but were cut down by the Fallen’s ranged weaponry. An injured thrall, twitching and writhing on the ground like a smashed cockroach, collapsed into a pile of sooty ash after a shock knife cut through its bony exoskeleton. Other small crews dealt with the Hive similarly, sustaining barely any losses and sending their wounded back, to be treated by a few Servitors and Splicers. After an order over the comms from their leader, the Fallen Captains and barons readied their scorch cannons and fired their unstable payloads onto the nest, sticking them to the lunar rock. The rounds grew brighter and hotter, until they each erupted in deafening explosions. Within, a tunnel collapsed, and Hive struggled to move past it. At more commanding shrieks and roars from deep within, another wave of Hive spilled out from the nest. This time, the Fallen were more ready. Dregs unhooked long shock grenades, cylindrical containers holding unstable Arc batteries, and pulled the pins on them, lobbing them through the air. They stuck to the ground and the sides of the nest, and exploded in bursts of crackling Arc energy. Lesser Hive caught in the explosions were burned and singed, and briefly immobilized. The grenades killed quite a few Hive, and the ones that survived were picked off by sharpshooters with ease. The Fallen continued their advance. Some crews were close enough to the nest that they engaged the Hive in close quarters combat. Then, a screech like nails on a chalkboard split the air. From a widening vortex of green Hive magic, an enormous clawed hand, dragging chains and covered in scars, reached through, and with a deafening roar an Ogre appeared amidst the Fallen. A devastating punch flattened half a dozen Fallen soldiers, and then the Ogre’s gaze atomized them. The Hive abomination swept its gaze from Fallen to Fallen, pulverizing any that passed beneath the beam of Void. However, at a fresh set of orders from their leader, Fallen foot soldiers retreated behind any cover they could find, while others sacrificed themselves, drawing the Ogre’s attention away from their comrades and superiors. Then the Captains opened fire with their scorch cannons. The Ogre bellowed in pain and anger as a fiery explosion scorched its hide, and turned towards the source of the attack. Another shot detonated, crippling one of its twisted, bony feet, making it stagger. The Ogre swept its gaze everywhere blindly, missing all but one unlucky vandal, the pain making it struggle to aim. Then a large figure appeared from transmat and impaled the wounded monster with a spear the size of a tree. The Ogre turned towards this new tormentor, preparing to unleash its gaze at near point blank range, but the crackling tip of the spear stabbed the massive eye with the intense heat of an arc-charged blade. The beast screamed, falling to the ground and twitching. The spear drove its point home, through the Ogre’s thick skull and into the lunar rock below it with a [i]crunch.[/i] The Ogre collapsed into a pile of ash, and the spear went to its owner’s side once more. The wielder roared to its loyal soldiers; “The beast has been vanquished! To me!” The Fallen army vocalized their assent and fell into a formation behind their leader. More Hive poured from nest entrances. The towering Kell at the head of the Devils rushed to meet them, followed by his scores of loyal warriors. The double bladed spear spun in a whirlwind of metal, driving back Hive and knocking them down. Then the Kell lunged forwards, hewing heads from bony shoulders and carving monsters into pieces with the spear’s lightning-charged blades. After slaying scores of Hive, the Kell fell back, and at clicks and roars from his Barons and Captains, the foot soldiers - dregs and vandals - surged to fill the gap he’d made. The Hive nest’s narrow entrance hole was too small for his massive bulk. Instead, he jogged towards a small rift in the ground, like the little gorge a stream might carve in the ground on Earth. The Kell entered the nest through a hidden larger nest entrance in the gorge, just barely squeezing his armored body through the opening. Above, his crew continued their advance. In the front, knives and blades cut down Hive that got too close, while sharpshooters and rifle-Fallen brought down the majority of the Hive from a distance. When a unit struggled, one of the towering Captains or Barons would draw their shock blades and drive back the relentless monsters long enough for fresh soldiers to replace the dead and injured. Because of Fallen’s constant advance, the Hive were constantly backpedaling, despite their greater aggression and numbers. Eventually the host reached the nest entrance. A group of Eliksni, sharpshooter vandals and dregs, stayed behind near the entrance so that they were not trapped inside, while the majority of the Devils moved into the nest. They tried to spread out as much as possible, so that they would not be trapped. Hive surged from everywhere - above, wedged into tiny cracks, below, and from countless other tunnels in the nest. The knife and sword wielders stayed in front to engage thralls, but only after those with guns swept the corners. Thrall and Acolytes that charged them, tried to ambush them, were mostly brought down before they could even get within range of the sword carriers, but as they descended deeper and deeper, resistance was more intense. Once a clanking, groaning Knight thundered towards the Devil soldiers, enormous blade in hand, and tore through five of them, injuring a sixth, before it was put down. When they came across chambers of brood and egg sacs, the Eliksni put them to the torch and muttered prayers to the Great Machine under their breath. [b]Continued in the comments[/b]