He wishes to plant a great banner over it, so that all may see. Metallic flecks shimmer, and he sees a long and empty road. “This is the most vascular rock I’ve ever scanned.” Keep those spitfires ready.” She turns to Osiris. Sagira breaks the Cabal perimeter to scan the protrusion. Osiris steps among them without their notice and lowers his hands. Slug Rifles lay prostrated before the idol. Frontal plating blighted by Hive barnacle growths. They are fixated-bulged eyes rabid and screaming of rancor. A soulfire pitch blisters through their turgid pressure suits. Their massive bodies form a bulwark of trembling flesh.
Osiris floats down to the acrid pools on feather-Light Sagira follows close behind. “You’re right, and I hate saying that.” A moment passes as the tiny Ghost directs long-range sensors to the stone. “What is that stone’s constitution?” he asks. “Finally.” Through the cracks he sees them the remaining ring of Cabal kneel in a tightly wrapped circle. Ten leave: nine unsteady forms in dull red, one vivid blue. The escape latch on the frontal pod dome bursts open and slams against the pod wall. “They’re on the move!” Sagira leers over the edge of their perch. There are no Cabal skirmishes against the Scorn, no metallurgists patching Phalanx shields with molten slag, or Psion lookouts tracing firing lines. His eyes open to the nebulous drift of the Shore. He is extinguished among their lightyears. The stars watch, all the weight of jet-black space upon him. “Patience is a virtue, Sagira.” Osiris closes his eyes to the Reef sky and waits for signals to guess at the Darkness’s plans. “They’re still just huddled around that rock.” The only exception: Sagira’s repeated affirmations. Sagira and her Guardian survey the scene, perched on Fallen ruins high above the Boil. A royal blue banner of Cabal make lay cast in squalid bubbling mud. I don’t want the Cabal Empire to know we’re tapping their communications.”Ī horde of Cabal crowd into a crude shelter, assembled from several decommissioned drop pods. “We’ll hit them after the offering is made. “Caiatl sends an emissary to receive their tribute.” “This message here,” Osiris says and points to the on-screen readout of Sagira’s scans. “One of the response signals is offering Caiatl tribute from somewhere near Sorik’s Cut. If Caiatl is stirring up the Legion, the Vanguard will want to know their plans.”
She’s calling the Legion home… or, no… back to her bosom? She wants them to capture Calus to prove their loyalty, but it sounds like the Leviathan is missing.” “There are responses from Nessus, the Reef, the EDZ.
“How many Cabal leaders still vie for dominion atop Ghaul’s grave? Let them grind each other into dust.” Some pretty heavy encryption at work, but… there’s a repeated phrase. “From?” Osiris absentmindedly pushes a sack of candy corn aside with his foot and leans forward. Hang on.” Sagira boosts the jumpship’s comm receiver. “Huh.” Sagira patches a strand of Light into the jumpship’s control deck as they tumble through the black-drop, stars twinkling out beyond reach.
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