"Why are we saving these guys again?" Fault sounded impatient. "We're not saving them. We're meeting them. This is a rendezvous." Ricochet grumbled in reply. The [i]clak-CLACK![/i] of his sliding the pump on his shotgun easily audible over the transmission. "In the center of a Covenant base?" Fox quipped, sounding at ease but nonplussed. "...the -blam!-'s a Covenant..." Ricochet muttered. "Fallen. My mistake---in the middle of a Fallen base?" She amended quickly. "And don't swear at me. Unlike you, unleashing wanton destruction takes a bit of focus for me. I'm charging another Fusion Grenade. There is a line of Dregs rushing us, right flank. Ricochet?" "I'll take care of it." He pushed off from their cover---what was left of what might have been an ancient airplane---and his heavy thunking steps carried him through mud off to meet the charge. "He's so handy." Fox remarked, tipping her head toward Fault with her hands still held out before her, gingerly cupping a roiling orb of yellow starfire which was only growing in intensity. The ground shook as another series of heavy Arc rounds failed to even reach their cover, and tore up the ground on the other side of the barrier. "You were saying?" "Who are we saving here? Why is it that whenever Ric has us do something, it's like 110% getting shot at and negative 5% knowing the -blam!- why. And if these -blam!-ers are so necessary, why the hell aren't they trashing these Fa---" He broke off as a pair of Vandals, stealthed and with arc swords flickering, bravely vaulted the barrier. In his short pause, he dove to the left to avoid a double handed thrust which sunk both of the Vandal's blades into the metal---and as he rolled, pulled his feet under him and planted in the mud to steady himself, both Hand Cannons had already come up. He fired three shots from each. By the fourth cumulatively, the Vandal no longer had any arms with which to hold a blade. The fifth was into its left leg as it shrieked in pain and horror. The sixth came as he stood back up, fired into the underside of its chin as it fell toward him. He sidestepped to let it fall. Fox wasn't done quite as quickly. Likely of her own choice. The Vandal which went for her dashed as well, but she drifted almost casually aside. Stepped into it to nudge beneath its arms in a push that was more a suggestion than a shove----and then as it made to recover from the confusingly gentle evasion and coaxing, she took one hand away from the growing orb of hellfire to flick it in the direction of her new (and very temporary) foe. The sudden wave of pure force which pinned it against the metal shattered its blades, and showered it with the peppering of resulting shrapnel. It was [i]not[/i] already dead when she raised her other hand to force that orb of Solar energy upward and into its mask. Melting through it, and then melting what was behind it. And melting the neck beneath it. For whatever reason, the corpse didn't stop thrashing until she'd burned clear down its throat and into its abdomen. "Their anatomy is strange." Fox whispered curiously, drawing the orb back between her hands and turning to place her back against their cover again. Sitting cross legged as she had been before, finishing her charging. "I'm not sure if it makes them more or less fun to kill." "You're -blam!-ed up, lady." Fault replied, reloading. "...like I was saying though. The -blam!- are we doing here?" [i]"This is Punk. We're coming up. You still out there?"[/i] The transmission crackled with static, distorted by distance. [i]"Damnit, he's always late."[/i] "We're here. Uhhhh..." Ricochet began, sounding slightly out of breath. By the sounds coming from wherever he'd run off to, it was probably because he'd been punching things to the surprise of no one at all. [i]"Whiskey. We'll be Whiskey team, this time. Zee says 'sup. And -blam!- you."[/i] 'Punk' let out a short laugh over the transmission. [i]"I may have improvised the translation a bit. His equipment's busted so... guess that's up to me."[/i] "Awful proud to be second string, aren't we Punk?" Ricochet remarked, a grin on his voice. [i]"Listen bitch. You called [b]me[/b] for help. Don't forget that."[/i] 'Punk' replied, not missing a beat. "Oh, I like this one." Fox intoned pleasantly. "I bet." Ricochet rumbled sourly. [i]"Like I was saying. We're on our way up. You're gonna like this. Tee-ell-dee-are is... lots to shoot. Can't say I expected to find anything. Thought you'd just lost your shit finally. I mean, the Hive are a Moon problem. Not a here problem."[/i] "And now they're going to be a here problem?" Fault guessed aloud. [i]"Kiddo, they're about to be an [b]everyone[/b] problem."[/i] Punk replied grimly. "Don't call me Kiddo." Fault fired back immediately. Fox huffed out a short laugh. "Something funny?" Ricochet, the heavy sound of his boots returning finally. "Oh, not you lot. Your curious familiarity with one another, despite being recently brought back from death, has all but lost its novelty. No. I was just marveling at the fact that I will very likely need more grenades. I [i]like[/i] grenades." Her smile was on her tone. Silence lingered for a few moments---silence beneath the sound of Fallen gunfire and explosions, but silence. [i]"...Haha alright, who the hell is she?"[/i] "Long story. We're moving up to meet you half way. She'll tell you on the way back." Ricochet was sliding in beside them both at this point. His right shoulder was still crackling. His AR was nowhere to be found. He was carrying a Vandal's blade. [i]"You're gonna need some rockets. We're gonna need some rockets. Shriekers."[/i] Punk warned. Fox hurled the Fusion Grenade she'd been charging over her shoulder, over their cover. It detonated a moment later, with a light that briefly bleached the area white. The screams of dying Fallen were almost drowned out by the thunder. Almost. Fault looked at her, dropped his shoulders and sighed. Then looked at Ricochet, who shrugged and offered an open palm. He wasn't only missing his AR. He was missing ALL of his weapons. They were gone. Fault sighed. "...I gotchu man. We'll be there soon." Flipping his left Hand Cannon around, offering it handle first to Ricochet. "Use it to actually shoot things, dumbass. If you lose it, I'm going to---" "I'll deal with him if he loses it." Fox interrupted pleasantly. Ricochet took the weapon, and sighed. "Fine. ETA five minutes. Mind the bump."