A thick, purple mist blew about the dimly lit room, nearly obscuring it. The Baron sat on a bed, taking deep breaths of the fresh, life-giving ether that coated the room. The room was silent, save for the deeper and deeper breaths emanating from the resting Fallen, and the periodic deep, robotic sounds that came from the Servitor to his left. It was rare for a Fallen to be able to remove their helmet and life support systems, having migrated to the toxic Earth centuries ago. But here, in his own tiny slice of the world, Kazik was able to enjoy not only the comfort of an atmosphere similar to his "homeworld," but also the impossibly rare silence which he loved.

[i]Peace at last[/i], Kazik thought. [i]I scoff at any who claim that [b]quiet[/b] is not a form of art.[/i]

It was not meant to last, however. The miniature Servitor seemingly piped up, turning its attention to the airlock. The outside door opened, and there was a pause. Kazik sighed as he awaited what could only be his next order. There was a pause, a leak of detoxifying gas in the middle chamber, and finally, a hiss as the inner door opened. In stepped a frame, simple in its purpose. Kazik knew this frame all too well. This was the soulless creature which the Vanguards often deployed to him when they were too lazy or too afraid to contact him on their own.

"Eyes up, Eliksni." Kazik raised his eyes from his hands, and realized that he had been mistaken. Perhaps he had been too tired, or too careless, or too angry to pay proper attention, but this was not a frame. In stepped a creature unfamiliar to him: a short, yet undeniably powerful human of dark complexion. She carried herself with great pride and great strength, yet the wisdom in her eye only provided one possibility as to her identity, and the robes which she wore only served to confirm.

"Ikora Rey, Warlock Vanguard of the Tower. You're younger than I might have expected," Kazik said in deep, vibrating tones. Having adopted them once already into adulthood, the Earth tongues still posed a minor challenge to him, and the accent of his history shone through like light through glass.

"I don't  have time for pleasantries, and neither do you. You have an assignment."

"But of course."

"Report to the hangar, section two, docking bay thirteen. An IPF-D77 group shuttle will be waiting for you." Kazik paused. Typically, he was only called forth to deliver information, or perhaps to investigate a Fallen House on his own. However, one word stood out to Kazik when he heard the Vanguard's comment.

"Group?" The Warlock sighed.

"Yes, Kazik, group. You'll be a member of a group of Guardians investigating some... issues we've been having of late. Issues with Fallen. We might need your help analyzing their tactics and whatnot. Now grab your equipment and get going. And for the love of God," she took a moment to look about the room for a moment, "turn on some lights." As the woman left the airlock with a hiss, Kazik took his last deep inhale of fresh Ether. The servitor let out an electronic groan, and disappeared in a purple wave towards Kazik, entering a sort of existential limbo inside of Kazik's equipment. The Fallen Baron stood up and walked to a locker, alive with cyan light. As he opened it, he noted four objects. One was familiar enough, but the three remaining he looked upon at once with distain and delight. They were dusty and a bit stuck, signs of a great age without use. A shock pistol, which he placed behind his hip. A shock rifle, which he slung over his left shoulder. Finally, a wire rifle, which he slung over the other. Returning to the first, most familiar object. Kazik paused. While this was the most familiar, and most used of his tools, something felt strange about putting it on in this way. Usually, it only served the purpose of providing life support. Well, that and not terrifying the Guardians which saw him. Today however, it was a piece of armor. Something to protect him from death, and a symbol of fear which his enemies would remember. Donning the helmet with the black stripes, Kazik gathered himself.

Stepping to the airlock, he grabbed something from a hook on the wall: a tattered black cloth with a white symbol on it. Something for his enemies to remember, and something to remind Kazik of his origins. He stepped into the inner chamber as he wrapped the cloth around the back of his armor, and the door shut behind him.

[i]Hiss[/i]

As he was cleansed of any residual ether or otherwise foreign gases, Kazik sighed, saying a silent goodbye to the comfort of his home. The outmost door opened, and he stepped out.

[i]I suppose this had to happen at some point. Onwards.[/i]

[centre]*			*			*[/centre]

Kazik stepped up to the ship to which he was assigned and observed the already present.

"Kazik, of House Sin. I am here to help you, help which you will most certainly need, yes?" The Fallen took a pause and looked about inquisitively, still analyzing the other creatures.