PROLOGUE

"I will not stand idly by as you bicker, even while half the City burns!".

The words boomed out, silenced the cacophony of disparate voices that had taken hold in the Consensus chamber. They were deep and gruff, the throat they had issued forth from made rough by years of breathing in gunsmoke and swallowing blood. The words rang in the silence, edged in steel that was not only a product of the man who spoke them.

It was said that Lord Saladin never removed his helmet. While no one could prove this, he had certainly never been seen without it. This was no exception. Even with his face hidden behind armor, every Representative present felt as if his raking gaze was boring into them.

When no reply seemed forthcoming, the golden giant continued.

"You sit here in your fortress, while flames still lick the homes of our citizens, even the very Walls that the first Guardians built. Hive abominations, servants of the Darkness itself, still stalk our streets. Guardians are fighting, dying, outside this room. I left the men and women of my order leaderless to come here, only to find this Consensus nothing but a pack of dregs".

He took a rasping breath, his helmet serving to hide the pain he felt as each inhalation tore at his lungs.

"You are not fit to bear even the title of Representative".

The thirteen members of the accord were struck silent. Their faces were bleached of color, palms sweaty, goose-bumps raised on their arms. The acrid stench of fear, of cold sweat and sour breath, filled the air.

One, trying to disguise her quavering voice with bravado, managed to speak after a few moments.

"How dare you. The resolve of this Consensus is above question, especially by the likes of you, Vanguard". Her eyes swept over the faces of her fellow Representatives, searching desperately for some measure of support.

"Let us not forget, Saladin, why we have a Consensus at all. If your predecessors had possessed the wit to-".

Before she could speak further, Saladin's gauntleted hand closed around her neck and hoisted her, with a yelp, up into the air. He had moved with speed that seemed impossible in his bulky armor, crossing the room in the blink of an eye.

The Representative's eyes widened, clawing at the Titan's hand, trying to break his iron grip around her throat.

He spoke slowly, his voice harsh and low, a knife sliding into an enemy's ribcage.

"I will be given the respect owed to one of my position", he said, bringing the choking woman in closer. Held at his eye level, she was more than a foot above the ground, her legs kicking at the air.

"How dare I?", he asked pulling her closer still until her nose was nearly pressed against the face of his helmet. Flecks of spittle spattered his armor as she wheezed and gurgled, wet mewls escaping her lips as she tried to call out for help.

He squeezed tighter. Now even gasping was beyond her. She couldn't make a noise.

"I stood on our walls with Lord Shaxx as they burned around us. Even as the Fallen guns pounded the wall to rubble, I fought until the enemy dead were piled around me. I led the counter-charge when the wall fell and the Fallen spilled into the City. I watched Guardians die that day, cut apart by vandal blades or blown apart by captains' guns, disintegrated by wire rifles. When the enemy was at our gates then you did not hesitate, did not mewl and whine; you took action. You allowed the Guardians to do what they do best. Fight".

The woman's head lolled back, her face pale and bloodless. She had stopped kicking, her muscles spasming as her brain began to shut down, neurons misfiring. Her eyes were fixed on a point in the middle distance.

Saladin trained his gaze back on her, almost forgetting that the worm still squirmed in his grip. A sneer twisted his face, unseen by the members of the Consensus.

He released his hand, letting her drop to the cold floor, boneless and limp. The Representative gasped in a deep breath, before collapsing into a fit of hacking coughs. She lay prone on the floor for some minutes, wretching, her chest heaving as air found its way back into her lungs.

It was a long time before another Representative managed to gather the courage to speak. When he did so, an Awoken, young by the standards of his race, he did not address Saladin directly. None in the chamber could bear to look on him.

Instead, he addressed the Director in a weak voice.

"What is the status of the fire control units in the affected districts?" he stammered.

The Director, the artificial intelligence that managed the City's droid population and other subsystems too complex for humans to control, spoke in a voice of inhuman cool.

"Units A1 through S9 mobilized in districts 1 and 5. Fire 57% contained. Estimated time to 100% containment; ninety-seven minutes".

The words painted a grim picture. Nearly the entire fire control force had been mobilized, and it would take another hour and a half before the fires had stopped. Assuming another Hive assault wasn't on the way.

The Awoken spoke again. "Damage?".

The Director was silent for a moment. While it had access to vast reserves of processing power, much of its attention was focused on the nearly nineteen hundred droids involved in combat the fires raging in the northern districts.

"In affected districts, estimated 45% of infrastructure destroyed or otherwise rendered unusable. Additional 13% requiring ten to twelve months for repair and reconstruction to original condition. Minimal damage to remaining 42% of structures".

"Casualties?".

"Civilian or Guardian?".

The Awoken thought for a moment. He did not want to upset Saladin further, but was unsure if asking about the civilians first would set him off.

"Civilian casualties, please", spoke Lord Saladin. The Awoken's words died on his lips, and he decided to hold his peace.

"In affected districts, estimated 70% casualties". The Consensus, collectively, swore under its breath. More than two million people dead. Maybe it wasn't that bad, they said to themselves. Estimates were estimates. But as they looked out of the great chamber windows, out over the flaming city, Hive pods still falling occasionally from the sky to mar the earth, they knew the gravity of the situation.

Lord Saladin turned his back on the Consensus and, with a roll of his shoulders, stalked toward the door. He pushed the great steel doors apart with effortless ease, leaving the august body to its deliberations. He had said his piece. They would listen to him. They had to.