My Depiction of the Destiny Universe The low hum of the dropship traveling through slipspace eased Rythe’s mind. He checked over his auto rifle once more, as they’d be breaking Mars orbit within the minute. The guardian across from him broke the momentary silence; “Any intel about our opposition sarge?” The NCO turned his head to face the young Hunter. “First team’s gone dark ever since we broke Earth orbit, there’s no telling how many Cabal will be there when we hit.” The Sergant, a gruff well aged Titan who we presumed went by the name of Duncan, turned back to his datapad. The Hunter, now worried, began sharpening his bayonet to distract himself from the task at hand. Rythe didn’t have much experience himself either. If he ended up living through this mission that would make this his second real-combat encounter in the field. Rythe felt the savage jerk as the dropship jolted from slipspace into the surrounding debris of Mars. Both Guardian and Cabal ships alike peppered the surrounding area as far as one’s eyes could see, torn to pieces by skirmishes and the Cabal’s in-atmosphere Orbital Acceleration Canon. After initial contact, fleets were sent to the Guardians aid, only to be torn asunder upon exiting into normal space. Smaller craft however, could easily slip past the defenses and reach the ground. That’s what happened when those lucky enough to escape the fleet’s annihilation crashed upon Mars’ surface. The Cabal soon located and swamped the remaining survivors. Outnumbered seven to one, a couple Warlocks jury-rigged a transmitter and sent out a distress call to the tower. Within eleven minutes the signal vanished, just as the last few transports were entering slipspace. The faint reddish-orange hue of the planet seemed to contrast immensely with the thoughts racing through Rythe’s mind. The planet, steadily growing larger and larger by the second, then rattled the craft as a beast does its cage. He could feel the bulkhead’s heat as they began the steep descent. POW! PING! The dropship shook as a Cabal anti-aircraft rounds began to ricochet off the energy shields. “Hang on,” cried the warlock pilot as she evaded fire to the best of her ability. The dropship had to be stripped of most its weaponry to accommodate for the cram-packed amount of troops. KA-THUNK! One of the engines had just received a fatal blow, critically handicapping the craft. The ship began to pitch drastically in the direction of the blown engine. “I can see the landing zone,” stated the co-pilot, “they’re still kicking down there.” Rythe moved his head to get a view out the cockpit. Sure enough, he could faintly make out gunfire in the distance. There was a loud explosion as the smoking engine burst into flames. The dropship then shifted almost instantly 30 degrees to the right before snapping back with a thud. The pilot had purposely hit a sand dune to stabilize the vessel. There was a crack as the craft then struck the rocky surface, preforming a spin before ultimately coming to a silent halt. “Everyone alright?” The sergeant’s question was soon followed by a thick cough. “Yeah.” “Same here.” “I think so.” Responses sounded off one after another confirming a safe landing. “Okay, let’s move people,” sounded off a titan corporal as he hit the release for the landing ramp. “Base camp‘ll need all the help they can g- A cabal slug let off a loud SZACK as it flew straight through his neck. “MOVE,” shouted the sergeant! Shots pinged off the ship striking Guardians one after another, dropping into the now blood soaked sand. Rythe grabbed his VANQUISHER VIII auto rifle and sprinted out of the dropship as fast as he could. At the door he picked up a corpse and held it outstretched in front of him, acting it as some sort of meatshield. The sickening shush of hot slugs penetrating the dead Guardians armor echoed in Rythe’s mind, but he didn’t care at the moment. The only thing he was focused on right now was living. Tossing the bullet hole-ridden body aside, Rythe dove behind a sand dune. The slaps of Cabal rounds striking the earth behind him was deafening, even with the sound dampeners of his padded MONITOR TYPE 2 helmet. Other Guardians that had survived the crash began pouring over the natural barricade, including the sergeant and that young Hunter from earlier. The sergeant then raised his hand to his earpiece as he received a call. “What do you mean surrounded,” he barked into his comm. He then proceeded to peek over the other side of the sandy trench. “Aw hell! Romero! Flatts! Get me some fire on those boagies behind us! The rest of you, cover their rear!” Two titans wielding machine guns dug into the rear of the trench. “Alpha team, get your heads down!” Soon as the NCO barked orders into the comm, the two titans opened up behind us. Cabal yells could be heard loud and clear from behind, but Rythe was too focused on the army ahead. Marching forward ever so steadily was a whole Cabal battalion. There must have been at least five hundred of them, minimum. Rythe squeezed off short bursts from his rifle, doing his best to conserve his ammo. The enemy was in standard formation, The Phalanx’s with their massive shields up front, base Legionary troops in back. Spread in-between were the human-sized Psions, dwarfed in comparison to their eight-foot-tall counterparts. Rythe and the young Hunter were doing their best to thin the ranks ahead of them. One of the nearby Hunters dropped as a round penetrated his skull, his sniper rifle falling with him. Rythe crawled along the sand and dragged both the gun and corpse nearby. He then passed the rifle to the young Hunter. “You know how to use one of these?” He instinctly took the gun and nodded his head. Rythe tossed him a few more clips of ammo he scavenged off the corpse and primed a grenade. He tossed it over the mound and seconds later the earth before him shook violently. Rythe turned his head to see what caused the explosion. Two rockets flew past his vison slamming into the Cabal formations, scattering limbs and armor fragments across the battlefield. Two more dropships had landed behind them, providing covering the Guardians still trapped behind the sand dune. Two squads of Titans accompanied by a couple Warlocks poured out from the ships, armed to the tooth with rocket launchers and fusion rifles. Both groups began a charge across the middle ground the two titans in Rythe’s group had cleared earlier. Receiving very minimal casualties upon arriving at the frontline. “Who’s in charge here,” ordered a Warlock lieutenant. An artillery round struck theside of the dune, barely missing the sergeant. “I am, sir,” he said as he threw up a quick salute. The Cabal line had finally halted its advance and began to regroup its forces. The lieutenant turned to face the sergeant. “Is this all that’s left of your platoon sergeant?” “Sir, yes sir,” he said inbetween bursts of gunfire. “That’s a shame,” the Warlock officer answered, “nevertheless we need to secure this position for the other parties. Then our next step is to take out that damn cannon.” Another artillery blast shelled the area, sending sand, rock, and rubble everywhere. “I’ve got two bombers in atmosphere awaiting orders. If we can get a designation here, they could wipe the floor with these troops.” “Duly noted,” acknowledged the sergeant, “You two!” He pointed to Rythe and the young Hunter beside him. “Think you can plant a beacon out there?” The two looked nervously at each other before Rythe spoke up. “Possibly, I could grab a Phalanx shield and provide cover until we reach the target area, protecting him while he plants the beacon.” “Sounds good enough,” nodded the lieutenant. “Here.” He pulled from his satchel a long metallic probe and handed it to the Hunter. Rythe and the Hunter gathered at the edge of the dune. A titan dodging enemy fire slid a shield down the ground of the trench. Rythe equipped the massive hunk of metal. This thing was massive, about as big as he was, but that beside the point. This should provide ample protection for the two of them. Rythe turned to the young Hunter. “You ready?” He nodded. The two vaulted over the dune, Rythe in front. It took all his strength to brace the indestructible shield against the oncoming shower of Cabal slugs. Eventually the pair reached the destination. Besides the shield Ryth was holding, there was no cover to be found, and they were a good distance ahead of their allies behind them. The Hunter pulled out the beacon and planted it firmly into the sand. He slid up the primer on the beacon and began inputting the coordinates into the metal sliver. Rythe’s strength was depleting, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold the shield. “Done,” the Hunter yelled as he popped shut the beacons activation switch. Sure enough, as soon as the beacon went active, two bombers came curving around a nearby mountain The bombers were closing in fast, and it would be suicide to try to run back to the trench in time. “Get down,” Rythe yelled. He dropped the shield and spread his arms outstretched. A purple ward covered the two, just as the payload was dropped from the aircraft. Explosions scattered all around them, leaving a deafening ring inside the protective bubble. The Cabal force was in full retreat, funneling into the nearby bunkers behind them. Guardian’s cheers echoed through the battlefield as they celebrated their victory. The ward around Rythe and the Hunter then dissipated, leaving the two in awe at what they’d accomplished. While the enemy had indeed pulled back, that cannon still had to be disposed of before any major reinforcements could arrive. The Martian campaign had only just begun.