[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/246624086/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] Brenon and Powel sat in the field outside Blackbush, watching the plain before them. Brenon had pulled up some grass and was twirling the blades in his hand. Powel nudged the scout and pointed across the plain. Eight Sparrows were speeding around the edge of the forest, heading straight for them. The two men stood, waiting as the vehicles came closer. Lady Avery and two of her gunmen, along with Lord Daedalus and four of his. “I s’pose the rest are waitin’ in the trees,” Powel muttered. They both knew Avery had brought extra guards, just in case the plan went south. But if that happened, the likelihood of reinforcements arriving in time were slim. Brenon and Powel mounted their Sparrows and rode into the convoy. Together they cruised towards Blackbush and halted just outside the town. Eight of Lord Rotan’s gunmen walked out to meet them. “That’s all of them?” Avery asked Brenon. The scout shook his head, “Should be at least one more.” “Then there’s more with Rotan,” Avery deduced, “Powel, watch the Sparrows.” They all disembarked, and Powel stayed behind while the others moved on. When they were close to Rotan’s guards, one of them called, “Lord Rotan will see you now.” The two groups went down the street together. Civilians watched them pass in silence, fearing the presence of so many armed soldiers. Rotan stood with three men in front of the town hall. He spread his arms to greet them, “Avery! Daedalus! It‘s been awhile!” “You’re getting old, Rotan,” Avery remarked factually. Rotan laughed, “Me? Old? You’re a relic, Avery. An’ Daedalus. How about you take off that mask so we can count your wrinkles?” “I’m not that much older than you,” Daedalus grumbled, keeping his helmet on. “Alright,” Rotan carried on, “Come in. Let’s talk about this armistice of yours.” The three Warlords entered the building, leaving all their gunmen outside. A round table had been placed in the hall, with a wooden chair for each of them. They took their seats. “To the point,” Rotan began, “This truce’ll be to fight Natalia, won’t it?” Daedalus began to speak, but Avery cut him off, “That depends on wether or not you’re willing to help.” “Willing?” Rotan almost laughed again, “If the deal’s fair, I’d be glad for the help. That woman won’t give me peace. She’s already done enough damage.” “Like what?” Daedalus inquired. Rotan shrugged, “I had a shot at Cheshire, Zire, an’ Malta. But that devil came in; took the whole sector out from under my nose. Since then she’s been sendin’ raidin’ parties.” “Sounds like a pain,” Daedalus sympathized. “What has she been doing recently?” Avery interjected. “There haven’t been any attacks lately,” Rotan recalled, reclining in his seat, “I’d assume the Fallen are keepin’ her occupied now.” Daedalus nodded, “I’ve had the same problem.” “But what’ll I get out o’ this?” Rotan pressed, “What share of her sector? And the loot? I’m sure I’ll be doin’ all the heavy liftin’. I’d want at least a third, of course. And Fairmont.” “Don’t make-“ Daedalus began, but Avery held up a hand. “We’ll all share it,” she said, “And after, we’ll work together to fight off the Fallen.” “What?” Rotan grimaced, “Share? What is that supposed to mean? And the Fallen? What is this?” “The plan is to fight the Fallen together and protect our territory,” Avery stated. Rotan paused a moment, grinding his teeth, “Couldn’t o’ said that outright instead o’ makin’ me think we were after Natalia?” “We will be,” Avery said, “She just isn’t the end goal.” Rotan put his face in his hands and grouched, “Typical. Everythin’s always part of some scheme with you, Avery.” “Least it’s not a bad deal,” Daedalus pitched, “Workin’ together to get rid o’ our enemies.” Rotan lifted his gaze to Daedalus, “What deal did she make with you?” “Sadly,” Daedalus grunted, “My only gain is potentially dying of age.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rotan pondered under his breath. “Would you be willing to help if it means working together and sharing territory?” Avery invoked. “No!” Rotan snapped, “I’ll be fine on my own.” Avery nodded, unsurprised by his answer, “Are you sure you don’t want to think about it first? We won’t be your allies if you turn us down.” Rotan scowled, “You never were. If that’s all you had to say, you can get out.” “Very well, then,” Avery finished, rising from her seat and adjusting her cape, “Lord Daedalus, if you would.” • • • Brenon stood on the balls of his feet, ready to burst into motion at any second. The Warlords hadn’t been inside for long, but he knew he needed to be ready when the time came. He stood with Avery’s other two gunmen and all four of Daedalus’, facing all eleven of Rotan’s. They all watched each other intently, wary of a fight. But none of Rotan’s men were expecting one, and their boredom was becoming apparent. Brenon decided they would be put more at ease with a little conversation, so he put on a smile and spoke up, “So is someone else gonna break the ice, or am I gonna have to make a joke about all your mothers?” A few of the others snickered, and one of Rotan’s men jested, “That’s funny, I was just about to ask about yours. Does she miss me?” “I don’t think your own mother would miss you,” another of Rotan’s men retorted. “Real classy,” one of Daedalus’ criticized amicably, “I thought jokes that bad were reserved for ten-year-olds.” “Can you do better, mister high-and-mighty?” The first countered. “Nothin’ I’d dare teach to a ten-year-old,” another answered, holding back his laughter, “Your mothers can teach y’all some when you’re older-bwaha!” “Oh, is it a potty joke?” A third inquired in a high-pitched imitation of a child’s voice, eliciting more laughs. “This is the worst conversation I’ve ever-“ A gunshot cracked the air, and they all froze. There was no doubt it had come from the town hall. Brenon’s smile vanished and Rotan’s men spun in confusion. A second shot rang out, followed by a chorus of discharges. All of Rotan’s men crumpled to the ground, along with one of Daedalus’. Brenon and another of Avery’s guards wasted no time in going through the bodies, finishing off the groaning survivors with carefully-aimed bursts to their heads. “He’s still alive, might live,” someone commented, and Brenon turned to see Daedalus’ wounded man being tended to by another. “Get him back to the Sparrows,” the scout directed, and two of the others lifted their injured comrade, “One of you stay here.” Brenon led the remaining two to the town hall. One kicked the door open and rushed in. Brenon followed, taking in the scene. Rotan was sprawled on the floor beside his overturned chair, clutching at his bleeding chest. Avery stood over Rotan, and Daedalus was replacing his hand cannon in its holster. “You didn’t try very hard to sway him,” Daedalus noted, “Didn’t even explain the whole thing.” “I knew he wouldn’t join us,” Avery stated flatly, “He’d never give up his power and play nice, and he would’ve tried to kill us the second he felt threatened.” “All par-“ Rotan coughed, still holding on to life, “Part of your plan.” “Of course,” Avery affirmed with a sideways glance, “Brenon, come here.” Brenon obeyed, joining her over the dying Warlord. “Oh,” Rotan wheezed, “Hey, Brenon.” He made an effort to look at the scout as he spat, “So…you gonna put me down?” Brenon slowly drew his revolver, staring into Rotan’s hate-filled eyes. “You’re all-“ Rotan choked out with growing fury, “YOU’RE ALL JUST HER TOOLS!” The injured Warlord swiveled his head, “I was your tool, you hag! When we killed Chril! You got Hilton a-an’ didn’t fire a single bullet!” Rotan rolled onto his back to look at Brenon and Daedalus, “She’ll use you, too. Just like-“ Brenon pulled the trigger, and Rotan’s head fell back. They all looked down at the corpse for a short time. “He was a fool,” Avery said. “Just like Chril, huh?” Daedalus thought aloud, “And you’ll turn on me, too, Avery?” The Exo’s glowing eyes focused on the Warlord, “Only my enemies.” They stayed like that for a moment before Daedalus turned away. He moved for the exit as he huffed dryly, “I believe we have an announcement to make to the people of Blackbush.”