Gospel couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well, certainly not since before his deployment to Afghanistan as the U.S. Army was not known for making bunks comfortable.

Generally the rule was that you only slept in them when you weren’t taking RPG fire.

Apparently, this “rule” had somehow persisted into whatever century he’d been resurrected into and Tower housing had certainly not opted for soft, fluffy king beds; “Can’t have Guardians getting fat off luxuries, can we?” Gospel would joke. He still didn’t trust these “ponies”, but he’d be damned if they didn’t know how to make a bed right and the castle servants were actually good at their jobs… almost annoyingly so.

As if on cue, he heard the door open, followed by the sound of drapes being slid open and bright, morning sunlight hit his closed eyelids. Gospel groaned with irritation and rolled over, away from the light, but the earth pony maid didn’t give up.

“Apologies, Mister Gospel, but Princess Celestia has requested your presence in the dining hall. I am to inform you that this morning’s breakfast is pancakes with a fruit medley; a personal favorite of Her Majesty.”

Gospel groaned again, remembering the meal from the previous night and hoped that the pancakes weren’t made from daisies. He sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes. He looked out the window and saw the Mischief Maker in the courtyard. After a moment, he stretched and swung out of bed, noticing that the maid had a stack of folded clothes on her back that was balanced perfectly as she trotted over to him. With a light bounce, the clothes leapt off her back and onto the bed next to him.

“Your clothing and armor have been cleaned and polished, Sir.” She told him and he picked up the top article, sniffing it.

It had a light, flowery scent and – much to his astonishment – was completely stain-free, even of Cabal blood, and that stuff was as stubborn as the aliens it came from. He stood and moved to change out of his nightclothes, but paused when he realized the maid was still present and staring at him expectantly.

“Um, why are you still here?” He asked.

“I was told to guide you back to the dining hall once you were ready.” She replied.

“Okay, but why are you still in the room?” He pressed and she gave him a quizzical look. “Can you please step outside? I need to get dressed.”

“O-Oh, yes, of course.” She replied, blushing. “My apologies, Sir.”

He waited for the maid to leave, and then he changed into his battle gear. He looked over his coat – his Warlock robes, but he preferred to call them a coat – and noticed that whoever had cleaned it had also gone to the extra effort of repairing the field-weave; the stitches were almost indiscernible, and the patches appeared to have been chosen carefully to look as similar to the original cloth as possible. He wondered who might have done the repair work, but then he noticed an extra article of clothing.

It was the coat that he had seen in Rarity’s boutique, the one she had made for him, and there was a letter on top of it. He opened the letter and read its contents, written in Aveline’s fine handwriting.

Dear Mister Gospel,

I wanted to write this myself, but Aveline informed me that neither you nor your friends can read our script. I looked over your remarkable garment and I cleaned and repaired it as best I could. I am not sure what your… line of work entails, but I had to use a magic spell to remove some of those stains. Please do not tell me what created them, I would very much like to not know, thank you. As for the repairs, the material used to make your coat is, simply put, quite incredible! I have never seen anything like it before, Aveline tells me it is some kind of fabric called “field-weave”. It is so soft and supple, yet at the same time it is quite robust; I broke several of my best sewing needles trying to repair the damage!

Your ensemble aside, I know we got off on the wrong hoof yesterday and I wanted you to know there is no ill will between us. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to invite you over for lunch sometime as a show of friendship. I know several good restaurants in town and catering to your species’ diet will not be an issue, I assure you.

I hope you like the coat,

Rarity

P.S. If you and your friends ever need a place to stay, just know that the girls and I will be happy to welcome you; our doors are always open. Applejack

P.S.S. I snuck over while Rarity and AJ weren’t looking! You never got your cupcake yesterday, so just come on down to Sugarcube Corner and I’ll bake you another one! XOXO, Pinkie

Gospel couldn’t stop himself from feeling guilty about his behavior. So far the Equestrians had been nothing less than perfect hosts in the face of unexpected visitors and his response had been to treat them with distrust. He owed all of them – especially Rarity – an apology and he told himself that he would do so once they had handled the Fallen. There was a wispy sound as Scripture materialized in front of Gospel.

“Morning, Scripture.” Gospel said cheerfully.

“Whoa, are you… happy?!” Scripture asked in mock disbelief. “I never thought I’d see the day, Boss.”

“Bite me, shrimp.” Gospel retorted. “Get any good scans while I was asleep?”

“Nothing much; the microsatellites aren’t as good as the ones set up around the Inner Sol. However, I did pick up some weird energy spikes to the north. I didn’t get a very good reading and they were almost gone by the time I found them but…”

“But what?” Gospel inquired when the Ghost hesitated.

“Well… I mean, it was kind of faint… and I’m not exactly sure if it was…” Scripture said haltingly, as if he was working on giving bad news in a good way.

“Spit it out, Script, you know I don’t like it when you dance around things.” Gospel stated irritably and Scripture made a sound like a sigh.

“Fine. I’m not sure if they were phantom signals or not, they turned up late last night.” Scripture replied. “However, what I did get just happened to match known-”

Scripture was drowned out by the sound of a deep bass and the room – no, the entire castle – shook as though from an earthquake. Gospel ran to the window just in time to see a Fallen ketch appear in the sky and fly over to the castle. The Warlock didn’t hesitate; he grabbed his helmet from a table next to the door and rushed out, nearly tripping over the alarmed attending maid in the process.

“Mister Gospel, are you harmed?!” She exclaimed and he shook his head before slipping on the helmet. “What was that, an earthquake?”

“No.” He replied, his helmet’s HUD coming to life and showing the concerned maid through the helmet’s optical sensors. “It’s way worse than that.”

‘Gospel, are you awake?!’ came Samson’s urgent voice.

“Silly question there, big guy.” Gospel quipped in response. “And yes, I already know about the ketch. Hell, I bet the whole damned castle knows about it right now, if not the entire country.”

‘Rendezvous at the courtyard; they’re setting up grav lifts.’ Samson replied and then Gospel turned to the maid.

“I needed to get to the courtyard about three minutes ago, you know a shortcut?” He asked her and she nodded.

“This way, sir.” She said and led him into a secret passageway nearby.

As they ran, Gospel found himself impressed; this maid’s first question to him after the castle shook was whether or not he was safe and after that, she hadn’t shown any hesitation in leading him to a fast pathway to the castle courtyard.

“So, I didn’t catch your name.” He said nonchalantly as they exited out into a corridor on the first floor.

“I didn’t give it, Sir.” She replied. “It’s Clean Sweep.”

“Nice to meet you, Clean Sweep, I’m Gospel.” He told her. “Are you really just a maid?”

“Yes sir.” Clean Sweep replied. “And I’m kinda used to things like this; been an interesting couple of years, you know.”

“I was just curious, because most maids don’t act like bodyguards in emergencies.” Gospel said, impressed.

“Well, I’m guessing most maids where you come from don’t start taking self-defense courses from the Royal Guard after a changeling invasion, either.” She replied.

‘I can see how that might make you reconsider your job qualifications.’ Scripture said to Gospel.

“Right…” Gospel said as they came to the large double doors leading out and he turned to the mare. “Go and get somewhere safe, these guys aren’t really known for taking prisoners.”

“Yessir.” She replied. “Stay safe out there, Mister Gospel.”

With that she backed up, gave a respectful curtsey, and quickly departed for destination unknown within the castle walls. Gospel watched her leave, and then he pushed open the castle doors.

The Ghost took a read of her power levels and saw they were hovering around sixty percent. She gave a mechanical sigh; it would be weeks before she ever ran out of light, but chances were that Xarksis would simply let her power reserves empty. She didn’t blame him; she wouldn’t tell him anything, and he couldn’t really make her, so he was basically doing the closest thing he could to torture.

She was just about to slip into rest mode to conserve power when she felt it. Distant at first, but gradually growing closer; it was the Traveler, or at the very least something containing its Light. At the same time, there was an increase in activity aboard the ketch. The Ghost decided, instead, to ping the software worm she had slipped into the servitor serving as her jailor. She hadn’t told Xarksis, but the containment field holding her was really only keeping her in place, not locking down her functions.

“Soreks.” She cooed, but got no response. “Soreks, I know you’re listening; you don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

This time there was a brief wave of white noise – likely his version of a groan – before the servitor responded.

‘No, you may not “use the restroom”.’ Soreks-5 replied irritably. ‘You are mechanical; you do not have the capability to produce waste.’

“Oh come on, Soreks, I only did that once.” She said jokingly. “I was just wondering what was going on out there.”

‘That is not for you to know, Ghost.’ Soreks told her and she rolled her optic.

“Soreks, you and I both know that you can either tell me what I want to know or I can just take the information straight out of your memory banks.” She informed him.

Silence, and then more white noise.

‘Fine.’ Soreks growled. ‘We have entered the atmosphere of the nearby planet. It is my belief that Kell Xarksis intends to treat with the terrestrial leader.’

That caught the Ghost’s attention. It was unheard of for a Fallen leader to willingly engage in formal talks with another species. However, Kell Xarksis had already proven to be… rather unusual for a Fallen Kell. First was his decision to choose an alliance with the half-mad Exiles on the Moon, then his decision to keep a Ghost whole and intact aboard his ship. If Xarksis was now going to speak peacefully with another alien leader…

“Soreks, what aren’t you telling me?” She asked, but received silence. “Soreks, need I remind you-”

‘I am not hiding anything.’ The servitor interrupted quickly and the Ghost gave a sigh.

“You only have yourself to blame for what you’re about to experience.” She told him, and then she expanded, her spines almost touching the containment field imprisoning her, and she linked with the worm inside of the servitor’s programs.

She delved through only his recent memories, trying to find what he was hiding, and discovered that he was hastily trying to delete something from his memory banks. She initiated a lockdown program in the worm and he stopped, sending her an irritable clip of white noise in response. The Ghost reviewed the fragments of the data to see what was so important and discovered that it was an audio log.

“Sor… be ready… Baron Cal… bring… lift bay.” It was Xarksis, giving Soreks some kind of order. “They… will punish… cannot… Guardians.”

The Ghost stopped and Soreks chose that moment to try and finish destroying the file. It didn’t matter, she already knew he’d stored a backup in his reserve memory that she could access at anytime. The beauty of her hack was that she let Soreks think he had more control then he really did. What made her stop, however, was the mention of Guardians. She had sifted through much of Soreks’ memory while he wasn’t paying attention and knew enough that Xarksis wouldn’t mention Guardians unless they were present. Using the worm, she made Soreks remove the field holding her prisoner and she slipped into his chassis.

“Alright, big guy, here’s my plan.” She told the servitor.

‘I await with great trepidation…’ Soreks drawled in response.

“You are going to do exactly what Xarksis told you to do.” The Ghost continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

‘How does that involve you, machine-soul?’ Soreks asked.

“I suspect the Guardians will be nearby.” She replied, choosing her words carefully. “Just in case I wasn’t clear, this is a prison break.”

‘Superb, I suppose I can now await my imminent dismantling, then?’ Soreks said as the light on the door flashed and it opened, revealing two Vandal Kellsguard.

“No, no; just tell him I hit you and he should let you off scot-free.” The Ghost replied nonchalantly and she got white noise in response. The two Kellsguard indicated past the door and Soreks-5 hovered silently past, the Vandals none the wiser about the Ghost escaping right under their noses.

Gospel saw Samson and Aveline positioned behind a wall of burly earth pony guards with series of pavise shields arranged in a curved wall between them and the grav lift leading up to the hovering ketch. He hurried over to the other two Guardians and Samson grabbed a burst-fire pulse rifle out of a nearby crate, tossing it to Gospel.

The Warlock caught the weapon and checked the magazine before pulling the action, chambering a round. He positioned himself between two of the guardsponies and crouched slightly to leave only his gun and head visible.

“These are not normal Fallen battle tactics!” Aveline shouted. “Why are they not deploying skiffs?”

Gospel heard the sound of the doors opening and he looked up to see the Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Twilight Sparkle come outside, escorted by several pegasus and thestral guardsponies.

“Go back inside the castle, it’s not safe out here!” Samson shouted, waving them away, but the royal sisters didn’t acknowledge that they had heard him. Instead, they stared at the grav lift.

After a moment, the glowing pillar pulsed and a trio of Vandals stepped forward. Two of them held shock rifles, which they quickly aimed at the Guardians. The third, however, carried a banner with an unknown house’s insignia on it and wore armor that the Guardians had never seen before. It was not a Captain’s armor, but it was clearly of a higher station then that of the other Vandals. It stepped forward proudly and planted the banner on the ground with a loud thunk.

“Which of you is Kell?” The Vandal, a female, demanded in a raspy voice. Celestia cocked an eyebrow in question, but she did not speak. The Vandal tried again. “Which of you do four-legged ones kneel to?”

This time, Celestia responded.

“That would be my sister and I.” She stated. “Who are you to ask for us?”

The Vandal bowed rigidly, but respectfully.

“I am called Morra, of House Dragons.” She replied. “Kell of Dragons, Xarksis, requests your presence aboard his ketch.”

Celestia looked at Samson and the Titan shook his head. She looked back at the Vandal.

“I’m afraid I must refuse.” Celestia replied. “As it stands now, the House of Dragons has engaged in unprovoked hostilities against both my sister and a foreign diplomat on Equestrian soil. If your Kell wishes to speak with me, he must do so on my terms, not his.”

The Vandal paused, and then inclined her head and they could faintly hear her speaking, presumably communicating with another Fallen. After a moment of this, she looked back at Celestia again and bowed once more.

“His Majesty accepts your terms.” Morra stated, and then she picked up the banner and moved aside, with the Fallen honor guard taking position on either side of the grav lift and standing at a surprisingly sharp attention.

The grav lift pulsed again and again, each time depositing a pair of Vandals, who performed the same actions as the first two until there were two lines, each with six Fallen. The lift pulsed once more and this time a stooped Vandal with a staff, a large Baron, and what was unmistakably the Kell appeared; the latter two bearing shock swords in sheathes at their hips.

Gospel liked to compare Samson-12 to The Incredible Hulk – and the Exo certainly lived up to the comparison – but Kell Xarksis made both wrecking machines look like they needed to hit the gym. He was massive; standing at just over three meters – not counting the helmet – and the armor he wore did nothing to conceal his broad musculature.

Xarksis took a look at the shield wall and scoffed lightly before taking a step out of the pillar of light leading to the ketch. The Vandals immediately snapped a salute as the Kell and his entourage walked between them, with each pair making a sharp facing toward the front as they passed. Kell Xarksis stopped in front of the shield wall and glared down at the Guardians. The three Guardians stood, keeping their weapons trained on the Kell, but they didn’t back down.

They heard a soft step from behind them and without a word being said, the shield wall immediately dissolved. The guardsponies settled into two similar lines, facing inwards and Gospel could plainly see that they were terrified. Celestia approached the Kell – who towered above even her – and looked him straight in the eyes, not a hint of fear in her own. In fact, her face was an opaque mask tinged with anger and indignation; the Sun Princess was not pleased.

The Guardians wondered who they were should have been more afraid of – the giant alien king with incredible technology, or the regal pony princess with supposed godlike powers. When they tried to step between Celestia and Xarksis, the Sun Princess moved her wings to block and she looked at them, shaking her head. After that, she returned her gaze to Xarksis, but neither said anything; they just stared at each other. Gospel wasn’t sure he’d ever been in a situation where the pressure of pure power was so tangible.

“You do not cower in fear at my presence.” The Kell stated after a long minute of silence, his voice a surprisingly deep and rich baritone. “I am impressed; there are few who would be so bold as to call me out of my own ship and still have courage enough to face me within striking distance.”

“You could say I’ve had plenty of experience with this.” Celestia responded flatly. “I am Celestia, Princess of the Sun and co-ruler of the Equestrian Diarchy.” She indicated Luna to her right. “This is the other ruler of the Diarchy and my sister, Luna, Princess of the Moon. I presume you are the captain of this ship?”

“I am no mere ‘captain’, Princess Celestia, I am Kell Xarksis, ruler of all of the House of Dragons!” Xarksis proclaimed, almost boastfully, and then he indicated the slightly shorter Baron to his left. “This is my second-in-command and commander of my personal guard, Tolarum.” Xarksis then indicated the stooped Vandal to his right. “And the elder one here is my advisor, Varkin, of the House of Judgment.”

‘House of Judgment…?’ Scripture said over the comms. ‘The Vanguard doesn’t have any records on a “House of Judgment”.’

“There is much we do not understand about the Fallen, Scripture.” Aveline said quietly.

“How do you intend to answer for your House’s actions?” Celestia asked.

“By presenting a gift of the treacherous filth who is responsible of not just his crimes against you, but for dishonoring his House and humiliating his Kell.” Xarksis replied, and then waved at Morra.

She appeared to speak once more into her commlink and the grav lift pulsed, depositing a Servitor and a large Fallen dressed in the garb of a Dreg, but who obviously still had his arms; all of which had been bound. Two of the Vandal honorguard flanked him and pushed the large Fallen down the line towards Kell Xarksis and his entourage. There was angry hissing from each of the Vandals as the prisoner passed them and once he reached the front, Xarksis stepped aside and waved his arm at the prisoner. Gospel knew that this was the Baron who had attacked him and Luna, and clearly the Moon Princess recognized him as well. None of them noticed a flash of light from behind the Servitor.

“Well, t’would appear you are ‘Baron’ no longer, Caltor.” Luna stated with a sneer. Caltor did not reply; instead he glared at Luna with hatred burning in his eyes.

“He has been stripped of command and rank.” Tolarum informed them. “He is not even worthy of our lowest of titles.”

“I offer Caltor as an offering of peace.” Xarksis said. “However, I am still owed… satisfaction for his disloyalty.”

At this, the Vandals kicked Caltor to his knees, pulling his upper arms behind his head. Xarksis snatched the ex-baron’s lower arms in his own and pulled them taught. Slowly, to make the metal grind against the sheathes, he drew his shock swords and crossed them in front of Caltor’s neck as if to cut it off.

“Wul’th dal goh…” Xarksis murmured, staring balefully down at the large Fallen. “Fosch culm pah shod’ah.”

Caltor’s eyes went wide and he looked quickly to Celestia and the Guardians and then back at Xarksis.

“Cul’mo nah! Grich to yaph quoh!” Caltor pleaded, but Xarksis merely loomed over him.

“Tresh’al…” Xarksis replied, and then the shock swords flashed.

Gospel blinked and the next second, Caltor was howling in pain, his back arched and two glowing stumps where his lower arms used to be. Luna backed up a bit, startled and Twilight put a hoof to her mouth, horrified. Celestia did not flinch or turn her head away; her only outward display was the closing of her eyes briefly.

Wordlessly, Morra approached Xarksis and removed the banner from its pole, kneeling and presenting the cloth to the Kell. Xarksis placed Caltor’s severed arms on the banner and then wrapped them ceremoniously, ensuring that the odd design that was most certainly the House emblem was shown on top. After that, he motioned toward Luna and Morra rose, approached the Moon Princess, and presented her with the banner-wrapped arms. Luna looked at the arms with a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and disgust.

“Take them, Princess of the Moon.” Xarksis said assuredly. “The docking of one’s lower arms is a ritual of humiliation among my people, reserved for failure or those who show disloyalty to their House. By giving you his arms, I am bestowing upon you his debt and leaving his fate up to your whims, whatever they may be.”

Luna, unsettled, slowly took the banner-wrapped arms in her aura and Morra bowed before walking away from the Moon Princess. Xarksis motioned to the honorguard and they roughly pulled Caltor to his feet and shoved him in the direction of the armored guardsponies. They backed away fearfully and he fell to the ground, writhing and growling in agony. The guardsponies looked to Celestia and she smiled softly.

“Take him to the doctor and have his injuries treated; I intend to have Caltor stand trial for his crimes against Equestria.” She told them and they saluted and carried the injured Fallen into the castle. She watched them until the castle doors had closed and then she turned back to Xarksis. “You have my gratitude for turning Caltor over to our authority, but would I be mistaken in thinking that was only a part of your ultimate goal this day?”

“You are not mistaken; I intend to prevent… unnecessary conflict between our two peoples.” Xarksis replied. “It is not my desire to start yet another conflict when we can do so much more to benefit one another.”

“And how do we know you won’t turn on us?” Samson asked, and Xarksis settled his four-eyed gaze on the Exo in a manner of contempt.

“I was not addressing you, Titan.” He growled. “I have no interest in speaking with dogs of the Traveler.”

“But he makes a good point, Kell Xarksis.” Twilight spoke up, but wilted slightly when the massive Kell’s piercing gaze turned toward her.

“And you are…?” He inquired and suddenly Twilight wished she hadn’t said anything at all.

“T-Twilight Sp-Sparkle, Princess of Friendship…” She stammered, scared. However, Xarksis merely cocked his head in curiosity.

“Friendship?” He said slowly, as if tasting the word. “Your people have strange titles, Princess of the Sun.”

“I don’t think so, seeing as how I’m the one who gave it to her.” Celestia said, a smile touching at the edge of her mouth, and then she cleared her throat. “Now that we have settled our grievances, Kell Xarksis, I think it would be a good idea to sit down and discuss formal, peaceful relations. I am just as interested in avoiding a fight as you are.”

“Indeed, let us go aboard my ship so we may speak in private.” Xarksis said, gesturing to the grav lift but Celestia shook her head.

“No, Kell Xarksis, we shall do so on Equestrian soil, inside my castle.” Celestia replied, but when she noticed the Fallen glance at the Guardians, she added, “I am very well aware of the ongoing hostilities between your people and theirs and I will not tolerate any continuation of it here,” She shot a threatening look at the Guardians, “from either side. Equestria will play the neutral party in your affairs and that is all. Do you agree to this?”

Xarksis turned to the stooped Varkin, who growled something in the Fallen language, and then the Kell turned back to Celestia and nodded.

“The House of Dragons agrees to see Equestria as neutral ground and we shall not engage in further hostilities with the Guardians so long as we remain.” He stated. Celestia turned her gaze back to Samson. He looked at Aveline, who shrugged and then at Gospel, who looked away.

“Alright, we agree; as long as the House of Dragons doesn’t attack us, we won’t attack them.” Samson replied and Celestia smiled.

“Thank you for this compromise, I know it must be difficult for both of you.” She said, and then indicated the double doors leading into the castle. “Come, Kell Xarksis; we have much to-”

At that moment, there was a burst of flame in front of Celestia’s muzzle and both the Fallen and the Guardians readied their weapons. Xarksis did not reach for his swords, instead raising one hand in a clenched fist and none of the Fallen attacked. True to their word, the Guardians also held their fire. Celestia, for her part, was mildly surprised that a rolled up parchment had materialized. She unrolled the parchment, took a brief read, and then smiled and the parchment floated over to Twilight, who took it in her own aura.

“I believe this one is for you, Twilight.” Celestia said humorously.

“It’s from Cadance! Spike must have forwarded it to Princess Celestia because I didn’t come home last night.” Twilight said, and then she read it and her eyes widened. “N-No, that’s not possible! I mean, just how-?!”

“Is something the matter, Twilight?” Aveline asked, but the now excited Alicorn didn’t seem to hear her, instead she was giddily trotting on the spot and squealing. After a moment, Twilight stood on her hind hooves and Aveline got a close-up of Twilight’s excited muzzle through her helmet’s optics.

“I have to go to the Crystal Empire like, right now!” She practically screamed.

“Why right at this instant?” Luna asked. “Can it truly not wait? We have a very important guest at this time.”

Twilight didn’t respond, instead the magenta-aura encased parchment practically shoved itself into Luna’s muzzle. She took it with a look of mild irritation, read it, and then her own eyes widened and she hurried over to her sister and held out the parchment. This time Celestia gave it a more thorough read, but she gave off nothing more than mild surprise. Xarksis and his entourage merely stood on the steps, watching the whole thing happen and the Kell crossed his arms.

“Do I need to wait for you to be ready to speak with me, Princess Celestia?” Xarksis grumbled impatiently and Celestia turned to him, smiling.

“Not at all, Kell Xarksis,I have just received some… rather fascinating news from my niece is all.” Celestia replied and she nodded to Luna, who followed her while returning the letter to Twilight. “Apologies; my protégé will not be joining us, as she must attend to business elsewhere.”

Samson moved to follow them but Celestia looked at him and shook her head.

“I’m afraid my sister and I will be speaking with the Kell and his entourage in private, Samson-12, much as we did with your team.” She told him. “However, if it is not too much to ask, could I ask you to escort Twilight to the Crystal Empire? It would go a long way in securing good faith from us.”

Samson thought about it briefly before nodding.

“Alright, just be careful in there, your majesty.” He told Celestia and Xarksis gave a low, rumbling growl.

“The House of Dragons has given its word, Guardian; I will not suffer the dishonor of breaking it.” He told the Titan, and then he turned and entered the castle behind Celestia and Luna.

Varkin followed Xarksis wordlessly, but Tolarum lingered briefly and barked out something in the Fallen language before doing the same. The Fallen honorguard fell out of their columns and formed up around the grav lift, blocking it off. After a moment of watching the Fallen, Samson motioned for Fireteam Wisp to follow him to the Mischief Maker.

“So, where’s this Crystal Empire?” He asked Twilight as they boarded the ship.

“It’s about a day’s train-ride north of here.” She told him, still giddy.

“So probably about an hour or two as this thing flies.” Gospel stated nonchalantly.

They entered the cockpit of the Mischief Maker and Wedge swiveled in his seat to greet them. Fireteam Wisp and Twilight proceeded to take their own seat and Samson brought up the local Equestrian geographical map they had created. Twilight indicated an area in the north and Samson put in the coordinates. The engines ignited and they took off, wheeling around the moored ketch and flying quickly to the north.

The Ghost had settled on a counter inside the room containing the orb that held the Traveler’s Light, charging her power cells. When she had heard the ramp for the ship descend, she had quickly hidden herself from view, but when no Fallen stormed the ship, she came out of hiding. Not long after that, the ship lurched into motion and she was suddenly aware that they were flying somewhere.

‘Guess the Guardians are back.’ She thought. ‘I’ll just stay in here, out of sight until we get to the Tower.’

‘Are your power reserves charging successfully, Ghost?’ Queried the ever-so-polite engineering Frame, Biggs.

“Quite, thank you Biggs.” She responded. “How long until we arrive at the Tower?”

‘Indeterminate; we are currently on-course to a destination on Equus.’ He replied.

“Equus? Is that what they’re calling this planet?” The Ghost asked.

‘It is what the local terrestrials call it.’ Biggs told her.

The Ghost couldn’t help but wonder why the Guardians weren’t returning to the Tower. She slipped into the ship’s mainframe and retrieved the destination coordinates, as well as a satellite map of the area and some scans logged in the area the night before by one of the Guardians’ Ghosts. The area was a large greenzone that contained what appeared to be a city, which wouldn’t have seemed too out of the ordinary if it hadn’t been located in the middle of a snowy, mountainous region. In fact, you could clearly see where the snow ended and the city expanse began, as if the city had simply appeared in its current location overnight!

‘What kind of world is this?’ She thought as she reviewed the scans, but then something caught her attention and her metaphorical breath caught in her metaphorical throat. “Those energy signatures… they’re-!”

‘Hey Boss, we need to talk about those energy signatures I picked up earlier.’ Scripture said over the comm and the Guardians looked at Gospel.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot about that.” Gospel replied and his Ghost materialized. “What about them?”

“You got a scan on something last night?” Samson asked Scripture, who nodded.

“Yes, I did… and they matched a known energy signature from the Sol System.” Scripture replied almost fearfully and both Lance and Gauge materialized.

“Whoa whoa whoa, you picked up an energy source on this planet that has signatures matching something from home?!” Lance exclaimed and Gauge bobbed excitedly.

“Something from your world is on Equus…?” Twilight murmured.

“What is it, I’ve gotta know!” Gauge demanded, but then she stopped and turned an odd way, as if curious. “What’s wrong, Script? You don’t look happy.”

Scripture said nothing, instead he shot a beam of light to both Ghosts and they froze, as if in fear.

“Oh… oh shit.” Gauge deadpanned and Samson cocked an eyeplate at her; he’d never heard her swear like that before. Lance, however, was not so subtle.

“FUCK!” He swore loudly and Twilight winced at the foul language. Aveline gave her Ghost a surprised look.

“Is it something bad?” She asked and Lance lulled lazily in the air in a way Aveline had come to recognize as a sarcastic shrug.

“No, no, it’s all fucking peaches and cream out there!” He said angrily. “Unless of course you don’t like dying, then yeah, it’s pretty fucking bad.”

“Can we stop with the swearing, please?!” Twilight asked, irritated, but Lance rounded on her.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you fucking say, Princess.” Lance retorted. “I’ll stop fucking swearing as soon as we’re all fucking dead, which might happen pretty fucking soon!”

“Lance, calm down!” Aveline snapped and the Ghost jumped in surprise and looked at her. Aveline breathed to calm herself, and then asked. “What is wrong? I have never seen you act this way before.”

The Ghosts looked at each other, and it was Scripture who responded.

“The energy source? It matches known Vex signatures.” He said slowly and the Guardians looked at him in alarm. “And we’re… we’re heading right toward it.”

Author's Note

Grimoire Card acquired - Ghost Fragment: Kell Xarksis 2

Ghost Fragment: Kell Xarksis 2

*some time before the journey to Equus*

Onboard his ship, Xarksis sits upon his throne, watching the Dregs and Vandals work the consoles. Suddenly, a power surge causes the ship to tremble and the lights flicker briefly. The lesser Fallen look around, confused and slightly worried, but Xarksis merely gives a low growl and the Fallen return to their duties. After a few minutes, the hatch opens and Tolarum enters and approaches Xarksis, kneeling at the Kell’s feet.

Xarksis: “What news do you bring me, Tolarum?”

Tolarum: “Word from the Exiles, sire; they’re… celebrating.”

Xarksis shifts in his seat and leans forward, interested.

Xarksis: “Celebrating, you say? For what reason?”

Tolarum: “Our liaison with the House of Exile, Fritiks, reports that a team of Guardians have staged a raid on the depths of the Hellmouth."

Xarksis *sits back*: “So the Vanguard would challenge the World-breaker, Crota… quite bold. I do not see what this has to do with the Exiles’ revelry, however; if the Guardians invoke Crota’s ire, then we need to-”

Tolarum: “Fritiks told me that they succeeded, my Kell. The Spawn of the Taken King is no more.”

Xarksis freezes and his eyes grow wide. After a moment of silence, he blinks and his face once more becomes a mask of indifference. Baron Caltor steps up to Tolarum and crosses his arms.

Caltor: “Pathetic. Crota, brought low by the dogs of the Traveler? I thought the World-breaker would have been an adversary worthy of my sword, now I see I was mistaken.”

Xarksis: “Contact Fritiks and get him to stop the Exiles. They must marshal their forces and prepare; the Unspeakable One will not take this transgression lightly.”

Tolarum: “The Unspeakable One… you don’t mean…!?”

Xarksis *stands*: “Time is not on our side, Tolarum.”

Tolarum *rises and bows*: “Yes, with all due haste, Kell Xarksis.”

Caltor: “I do not fear the Unspeakable One; I shall gladly give Ory-”

Xarksis strikes Caltor with uncanny speed, sending the Baron to his knees.

Xarksis: “Do not speak the Taken King’s name aloud in my presence, Caltor. Crota was a foe with power unlike any we had ever seen; ancestors know what his sire is capable of. Only fools speak lightly of the Hive gods.”

Caltor *assumes a kneel*: “Apologies, my Kell; it is but my desire to bring honor to both you and House.”

Xarksis: “Your bravery is an admirable trait, Caltor, but you still have much yet to learn.”

Caltor: “Yes… my Kell.”