Art by:  Yuhanoone

LORE PAGE:

**JOURNAL ENTRY #7**

It has been a week since I've been "revived" by my Ghost, All I know is my name and the armor I woke up in is from "Hakke" and this SMG that I don't really like the feel of. Not much to go on..

"This is the place Lieutenant." Said my ghost Fairchild through my helmet radio. "Copy." I said, annoyed that he calls me that instead of my name. I would ask him later about that...

The place, (if it could even be called that) seemed to be a small overgrown town with once what used to be a square with a fountain that is now a crumbled mass of stone surrounded by wooden stalls and tarp lined tents. Walking through, I seem to be getting more attention drawn to me with the word "Guardian" whispered amongst the "townsfolk".

"There, that weapon vendor. Talk to him" Chimed my ghost as he floated ahead to the stall. As I walked up to the vendor, I take a look at the stock he has. weapons of poor quality littered the table which was merely a wooden door on two saw horses.

"Anything you like?" Asked the vendor, a ratty looking man who most likely stole this equipment to sell back to the townsfolk for a cheap profit. "Yeah, I need a weapon that my ghost tells me is here." I said
"well, all of these are the finest weapons in the Dead Zone!" I knew he was lying from the fact that some of them had broken parts and have never been cleaned thoroughly.

"We aren't interested on what's on the table, We want what's in that blue box behind you" Fairchild said, scanning the box from the side. "Not for sale to YOU lightbulb, that one's too expensive for you anyways. Now SHOO!" Turning back to me he glances at my Omolon SMG in my hand and points at it.

"I'll give you whatever you want from the table for THAT!" He bargains, clearly it being in much better condition than his stock. "It's either the gun from the box, or we will take our leave." I said firmly "No dice, now buy something or take your stupid ball with you and leave!" He barked, grabbing Fairchild and pitching him at my chest.

I was about to give him a piece of my mind for laying his greasy hands on Fairchild, but then an unmistakable crashing sound came from above...

"FALLEN SAVS!" Shouted one of the merchants behind me, pointing upwards to a rapidly approaching drop ship. They didn't waste any time getting into defensive positions with what little cover they had nearby and weapons that barley held together, I turned to the weapon merchant expecting him to help, I was unsurprised to see him run into the nearest building to hide.

"Figures... Get ready Lieutenant! They're not the talkative type!" barked Fiarchild, Vasnishing into my tactical pouch. As the ship halted right above me, it dropped a small platoon of scavengers. "I count one Captain, one Servitor and 5 dregs!" Fairchild radioed.

The Captain charged towards me as soon as he landed as I was the first person he laid his eyes on, firing my Omolon sub machine gun as much as I could. Shooting wildly and missing most of my shots, only busting his shield. I had to reload..

The gun didn't feel right, it's weight, the grip, the sights, the magazine release, It ALL felt.... wrong. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to stop him as he body checked me right through the weapon vendor's stall mid-reload, My gun went flying away from me. Breaking the flimsy wood structure easily, the merchant's weapons broke as soon as they hit the ground into piles of junk. Even with the light, the whole ordeal hurt like hell and I found myself on my back in the dirt.

Turns out, Exos CAN get the "wind" knocked out of them... Fun. "GET UP!" Ordered my ghost, like an angry drill instructor snapping me out of confusion as the captain walked through the debris. Two swords in hand laughing at my soon-to-be demise.

I quickly look around for the nearest gun with only moments to spare. Thankfully, an old rifle with a non functional holographic sight was close enough to roll to on my right, sticking half-out of the blue box we saw earlier. Without hesitation I rolled away just as the Captain stabbed the ground where once I was, however it wasn't as graceful as I'd hoped.. His sword got my waist pretty good.

I stifled a pained yell as hard as I could. Grabbing the rifle in my right hand and a hand full of dirt in the other, I chucked it right at his face. Bulls-eye! his shield was still down so 2 of his left eyes were exposed enough to get dirt right into them. A flurry of alien expletives roared angrily from him. A cheap tactic, but it was for life of death.

The dirt bought me a few seconds, Better not waste them. I shouldered the rifle, took aim, and fired. Even with a non-functional sight at this range, I couldn't miss. A good burst landed center mass perfectly, tearing through him with ease.

The gun felt... Oddly right this time. It's hard to explain but... The grip felt natural, the weight was balanced ergonomically, and the recoil pattern was.. familiar?

I wasn't able to think about it for too long as Fairchild praised me and to "Go mop up the rest of them!" Feeling more confident with my new gun, I charged through the debris and spotted 3 dregs searching through boxes for items. I guess looting was more important to them than securing the area.

I got the jump on them as I fired at them, taking two down before they even realized what happened. I aimed at the third, however my mag was empty. The Dreg charged at me with his spear, but what happened next was almost... Instinctual.

I darted left to avoid his spear kicking the side of his knee as hard as I could breaking it, that brought him down easily considering how thin they are. I whack the back of his head with the butt stock of my gun, the light from his eyes vanished instantly.

The fight was over but the battle wasn't finished, there were still 3 more to go. I sprinted through the stalls and drapes, reloading my rifle without even looking. Like before, the weapon just felt right.. Like I've used it before even though I've never seen it since I was "revived". I sprinted past the stalls to find two Dregs and a Servitor, without hesitation (and a full magazine) It didn't take long for them to be taken out.

After the ordeal and making sure that was the last of them, the "townsfolk" gathered to discuss what happened. I should have guessed it would involve me.

"What are we going to do!"

"They keep coming for us and we lose more people each time!"

"We can't keep living like this!"

"Why aren't we heading to the last city! We'll die here!" Argued the civilians.

**BANG!**
A loud gunshot echoed through the decrepit town, cutting anymore discussion to a halt. An older grizzled man with an unkempt beard holding a handcannon straight up, barrel smoking.

He spoke with a loud authoritative voice; "ENOUGH! I agree we need to move to the last city, but it's too dangerous of a hike to make it safely!"

"So we are just going to sit here and wait for them to pick us off one by one!?" A civilian Protested.

"No, we just didn't have the escort we needed until now!" Said the grizzled man, pointing as me as the small crowd turns to me."She took them all on her own and we didn't lose anybody! Clearly she can handle herself in a fight! I hate to ask, but will you help us get to the Last City Ma'am?"

"What do you say Lieutenant? Should we help them?" Radioed Fairchild, knowing what my answer would be anyway.

I give a nod of approval to the man, the crowd seeming like they have discovered hope for the first time in their lives and couldn't thank me enough..... Except for one guy, The weapons dealer whose stall I was smashed through.

"Hey wait a minute! What about that gun she stole from my stand!" He shouted, pointing at the rifle in my hands. "She needs to PAY for that!"

Fiarchild popped out of my tactical pouch, about to chew this guy a new one. However, the Grizzled man stomps over right to his face and jabs his finger into his chest. "And she USED that gun to save our lives while you were HIDING. For all I care, SHE'S EARNED IT! Now pack it up everyone! We leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow!" The grizzled man walked off to his abode. Leaving the dealer, Fairchild, and I alone.

"I like the cut of that man's jib." Said Fairchild as smugly as a floating ball of non-reactive armor can be to the dealer storming off.

Later that day I sat by a campfire one of the townsfolk lit. I figured now would be the best time to ask..

"By the way, why do you call me Lieutenant instead of my name?" I asked my ghost.

"That's the rank you have that's on your shoulder" Said Fairchild. "Now, guradians are not supposed to find out who they were in their past, Vangurad rule. But in this case it should be pretty obvious on what you used to be"

"Would that explain the muscle memory with this rifle?" I asked, gesturing to the rifle on my lap.

Fairchild gave me a nod. "That's why we came here, because I can make that gun deadlier."