#pratal mox

[lasersquad]

[fan-da-engraver]

Tiny ADVENT   ...... and bonus Elena and Mox

[etherealvoidechoes]

“As you can see, a slight tweak to the process and there is less of a chace of the chip breaking during extraction. An additional bonus is there is less disorientation and nausea during and after the extraction.”

“Heh, I see you and Rojo have been hard at work, Doctor. Less recovery time and gets them ready for ‘Marking’ faster. Betos will be pleased with this.”

- Tygan informing Mox of some new medical advancements for the clan he’s been stationed at for some time.

----

Finally remembering to post this sketch. Something else to add onto that backlog of wanting to color things.

Hope everyone’s week has been swell. Small break from writing but hope to get something done soon.

[witharsenicsauce]

A Wedding in Black (XCOM, Moxrider)

“I thought I’d find you up here.”

Pratal Mox looked up with a smile. He recognized that voice, but after all who else would come looking for him when he disappeared from a party?

“I needed some air.”

“Too crowded?”

He grunted. “The Commander loves her...shindigs...a bit too much.”

Elena sat down beside him, pulling down her hood so her short hair could ruffle in the breeze. It was late May, and the evening was warm and smelled of sweetness. It almost calmed his nerves. Almost.

“The view is beautiful.” She said as they stared out over the vacant city, a soft red glow on the skyline where the sun had just set.

“The rooftops give a view nearly unlike any other.” He looked at Elena and she smiled at him. There was no view quite as beautiful as she was.

“Do you know what day it is?” Mox asked her.

Elena’s lip twitched. “Wednesday?”

He sighed.

“Of course I know.” She met his eyes. “Three years ago today, was the day we met face to face.”

“Not as enemies, but…” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “As friends.”

“Feeling sentimental?” Elena asked.

“I often reminisce on that day.” He looked away, avoiding her gaze. “...It was, as of yet, the best I’d had.”

“Except when the Lady Assassin took you captive.”

“Yes well...that was a fluke.”

Elena chuckled and felt Mox shift beside her, letting go of her hand. “Pratal?”

“Elena, after this last mission...I’ve been thinking.”

Oh no. That was never a good sign. “We did well. Hardly any injuries.”

“Yes...But you and I both came close. That blast could have claimed us.”

“And yet it didn’t.” She swallowed in order to steady her voice. 

“But it still got me thinking. About us.” He laid his hands in his lap, fiddling with his coat pocket. “I’m afraid that one day, one of us might not come back.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Elena spat. “Nothing will happen to us. I love you, and that should be enough.”

“I love you too, Elena, and the more I think about the idea of us being seperated…” He took a deep breath. “The more I want us to be together. Really, together .”

Elena blinked. “...What are you saying?”

Mox pulled his hand from his coat pocket, and held a glittering ring in his fingers. “Elena, will you be my wife? Will you marry me?”

Elena let loose a sob, clutching a hand over her mouth as she let flow the tears of joy and relief.

“Elena?!”

She grabbed Mox by the lapels and kissed him, and he struggled to keep from dropping the ring off the roof. She pulled away as quickly as she’d come and held out her hand.

“Does this answer your question?”

Mox beamed as he pulled off her glove and slid the ring onto her finger, the interlocking gold bands glittering in the faint streetlights. He kissed her hand and pressed it to his cheek.

“Thank you…”

“Of course! Here you had me worried you were breaking up with me!” Elena laughed and kissed him again. “Married...it feels strange to say.”

“As it will feel strange to call you my fiancée.” Mox smiled. “But it does feel right.”

. .

“Like hell you are!” Volk threw his mug of ale down. Elena held her ground though, she’d expected this.

“I’m not asking for your blessing, Volk.” She accentuated every word. “I’m telling you what’s happening.”

“It’s not happening, Outrider. Not on my watch.” He picked up his mug. It was empty. “Not with him.”

“I love him.”

“What are you, a fucking teenager?” Volk refilled his mug spilling a bit of the brandy. “He’s one of them. The enemy.”

“He and the Skirmishers have done more than enough to prove themselves.” Elena protested. “He’s as much an ally to you as XCOM is.”

“FUCK XCOM.” Volk stood up on unsteady legs. “Fuck the whole lot of ‘em, they’ve gotten into that head of yours and got you thinking-”

“Ah yes, how dare a woman think in your presence.” Elena snarked.

“That’s not what I meant, Outrider. I knew that Commander lady was batshit when I first saw her, but I went along with her crazy-ass scheme. And I did it for the Reapers, Outrider.”

Elena stayed silent.

“I knew joining up with those hybrids was a bad idea, but I kept my mouth shut. And now look what it’s led to.” He jabbed at her with his pointer finger. “I won’t have you fucking him on my watch.”

“It won’t be on your watch.” Elena smiled, but it looked more like a scowl. “We like our privacy.”

“Outrider!” He grabbed his mug of ale and by the time he looked back, Elena was halfway to the door. “I didn’t dismiss you!”

“I’m not taking orders from you any longer, Volk. Especially when you’re drunk.” She looked back once. “...I was going to invite you to the wedding.”

“There won’t be a wedding, Outrider.”

“Yes, there will.” Then she pulled up her hood, flipped him the bird, and stormed out the door.

. .

The church was old, half toppled and all but abandoned by ADVENT. Betos and about five or six other Skirmishers were clearing rubble away from the altar, brushing dust and pebbles off the seats. A few of Elena’s Reaper brothers and sisters had arrived, including two volunteered to hunt something for the later wedding feast. Mox looked around at the the chapel and smiled. “It’s beautiful.”

“Huh.” Bradford nodded slightly. “Well it does have a weird charm to it.”

“And no one patrols here.” Mox added. “Now all that’s needed is Elena…”

“The Commander wanted to escort her personally.” Bradford sat down one one of the old pews. “Solid oak. This must’ve been hella expensive pre-ADVENT. And you get the venue for free.”

Mox sat beside Bradford and looked up at the various stained glass windows, all surprisingly still intact, showing the various saints and angels of the old faiths. 

“Nervous?”

Mox hesitated. “No. Simply...contemplating.” He smiled. “In ADVENT, I would never have had this chance. They did not allow for such...compassion. For love. Now…” He clasped his hands in his lap. “All I can dream of is my life with her.”

“You’re one lucky guy.” Bradford patted him on the back. “And you’re gonna make her really happy, I can promise you that.”

. .

When Commander Senuna opened the door, Elena still found herself taken aback by the sight of her, even though it had been nearly three years of seeing her everyday. But with her icy white hair and insistence on dressing in either very light pastels or pure white, the Commander seemed to glow in the dark, even more so now that she was beaming at Elena.

“There’s the blushing bride!” Senuna grabbed Elena by the hand and pulled her into the spacious quarters. “So I got the clothes you requested, and a skirt just in case. Are you sure you want the slacks?”

“I’m sure.” Elena said.

“Well it’s your wedding. I also got permission from the Resistance Council to officiate; they said it’s legal as long as we send them the right paperwork.”

“Good.” Elena grabbed the pile of black clothes from the bed. “Is there a...more private place I can change?”

“Bathroom is over there.” Senuna pointed to it. “Though If you want I can just look away.”

“Thanks but no.” She took her clothes and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

As Elena stripped completely naked, it hit her how...unorthodox this all was. There hadn’t been a wedding in this torn-up facsimile of their society for...a very long time. Romance was short lived here, and people simply fucked and moved on. Even her “friendship” with Mox had surprised her with its longevity. She’d expected them to metaphorically part ways after they’d first slept together but...He stayed. And so did she.

And now she was going to stay with him forever, she thought as she buttoned up her collar. It fit perfectly, which she thanked her lucky stars for. This had been a rushed job after all, but it looked so beautiful. Her top was draped in layers of black cloth with white lace outlining each layer, buttoning at the neck. The sleeves were white, a good contrast to the black blouse and leggings she donned as well. It fit her like a glove.

Elena stepped out and Commander Senuna clasped her hands. “Oh, you look beautiful!” She sniffled. “Now, makeup? Hair?”

“A little.” Elena consented. “Some lipstick and eye shadow would be fine.”

“Oh, that’ll be perfect!” Senuna went to her dresser and grabbed a little clutch-bag, and Elena sat down on the Commander’s large, luxurious bed. She saw the Commander look through the different colors, pulling out two lipsticks. “Which one?”

“...The one in your left hand. The cherry.”

“Oh.” Senuna looked surprised. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. It’s a special occasion.”

Senuna smiled. “It is!” She knelt in front of Elena and began using a small brush to paint the red color onto her lips.

There was a frantic knock at the door. “Busy!” The Commander shouted.

The knocking continued accompanied by the voice of Lily Shen. “It’s urgent!”

Senuna growled. “One moment.” She flung the door open, and Elena looked over at Shen who stood, panting, in the doorway.

“Volk’s here.”

Senuna blinked. “So? He’s always welcome on the Avenger.”

“He’s also drunk. And angry.”

The Commander pursed her lips. “And let me guess.”

“He’s looking for Outrider.” Shen waved at Elena. “Hi. You look really pretty. Congrats on the big day!”

“If Volk doesn’t ruin it…” Elena sighed.

Senuna turned to Shen. “Is he violent?”

“He flipped a table and punched the barman.”

“Hm.” Senuna rubbed her chin. “...Try and distract him as long as you can. Give him more beer if you must.”

“Is that safe?”

“For us, maybe. I’m going to try and sneak our black-veiled bride past you two. I’ll let you know when we’re clear of the area, after that you can drop everything and run. Or call backup.”

“What if he comes at me?”

“Take a weapon. Try and aim for the leg.”

“Gotcha.” Shen nodded and waved at Elena. “Good luck!”

“And you.”

Senuna closed and locked the door, kneeling in front of Elena again and dipping into a soft pink eye shadow with a fluffy brush. “I’m sorry. We won’t let Volk get in the way.”

Elena nodded, but a heavy sorrow sat in the pit of her stomach. She thought back to her years as a teenager when she had looked up to this man, and couldn’t help but feel let down…

Senuna finally took a black lace headband, adorned with black roses, and pressed it into Elena’s hair. “Look at you. You already look like a bride.” . .

As they ran from the Avenger, sharp heels clicking against broken cement, Senuna reached down and ran her hand across a field of overgrown flowers, ripping them out as she went. Elena had taken out her earpiece, but she could still practically hear Shen calling for backup when she realized Volk held his liquor better than she thought.

They reached the old Orthodox chapel and finally slowed their pace, panting. Elena turned to Senuna and asked “I think that run smeared the makeup.”

“Actually it’s still perfect!” Senuna winked. “A good primer and some setting spray can really do the trick.” She held out the handful of flowers. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Your bouquet, silly.” The Commander laughed. “A bride has to have a bouquet.”

Elena took it from her slowly. There was no rhyme or reason to the flowers. A lavender here, a chrysanthemum there, some roses, Queen-Anne’s-Lace, delphinium…

She smiled. “Very diverse.”

“Yes.” Senuna said, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Fitting.”

“Yes.” Elena pressed the bouquet to her chest and took a breath. “I’m ready.”

“Let’s marry you.” Senuna took Elena by the arm and threw open the chapel doors, which creaked loudly as though to announce their presence.

Elena was...shocked. While not a large crowd, a good dozen of her Reaper brothers and sisters were seated in the pews, waiting for her. Waiting to see her be married to someone they had thought of as an enemy.

And speaking of, Betos was there as well, and about six or so other Skirmishers. And to her shock, and she passed down the aisle, they smiled warmly at her.

She lifted her head, and before she knew it, she was face to face with him.

. .

Volk was hot on the trail. Outrider was getting sloppy.

He clicked his pistol in his hand, nothing in his mind but bad ideas and liquid courage. A small part of him hoped the little Asian girl was okay, he’d decked her pretty hard after all.

Volk saw a trail of flower petals down the road and scoffed. “I told you, Outrider. Whatever happens next, you deserve it for jumping ship.”

. .

“We gather today to celebrate something not often remembered in the battlefield.” Senuna said, standing over the couple who held each other’s hands before her. “Today, we remember love, and by the union of two souls, we recognize that their love is eternal.”

Senuna paused for dramatic effect, but really she was craning her ears for any nearby sounds that could indicate Volk’s approach. She heard rustling all around the church, but with a wave of relief, it turned into a light breeze.

She continued. “You are all here today to witness these two pledge themselves in marriage to each other, that they shall stand by each other in good times and in bad, and remain ever faithful to their love and commitment to one another. As partners, on the battlefield and in life.”

Senuna swore she saw Betos wipe a tear away.

“Tonight, you all bear witness to the union of Lieutenant Elena Dragunova, and Sergeant Pratal Mox.”

The whole church was transfixed by the two, but their eyes were on each other alone. Elena met the golden gaze of her lover and felt her eyes grow misty, her cheeks beginning to hurt from how wide she smiled.

Mox lifted a hand to her cheek. “You’re crying.” He whispered.

She nodded. “I’m very, very happy.”

. .

This was it. This was his shot, pun intended.

Volk peaked around the church door and scanned the room. He cursed under his breath. 12, maybe 13 of his own Reapers were sitting in the audience, watching this happen. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought, but with a lucky shot maybe he could still nail the Monster-Groom in the head. And then…

And…

And then Elena would give this up. And things would go...back to normal.

He blinked, his gun arm dangling. Everyone would see him from here. Every one of those Reapers would see him murder Pratal Mox on a day they all seemed to deem sacrosanct.

Maybe he was finally sobering up, but it finally hit him just how bad an idea this was. What did he expect from Elena? To come back to her old post after witnessing the murder of her lover? He wanted things to return to their basal state, with her, his sister, practically his daughter, as his second in command once again.

He bit back bile. This was jealousy, nothing more. And it had nearly cost them everything.

Volk looked back into the church hall. In the dim light of the candles, he saw Elena’s eyes shine as she smiled up at Mox. Not once had he ever seen her smile like that.

. .

“Sergeant Pratal Mox, do you take Elena to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death do you part?”

“I do.” Mox said, his voice trembling. Elena could see tears in his eyes.

“Lieutenant Elena Dragunova, do you take Pratal to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death do you part?”

Elena nodded. “I do.”

“Then under the authority of the Resistance Council, and the blessing of your peers, I declare this couple to be wed!” Senuna clapped. “You may now-”

She didn’t have time to finish. The two collided like magnets, Mox grabbing Elena by the waist and Elena wrapping her arms around his neck. They grasped at each other as though they would be washed away should either let go. The crowd cheered and whistled and there they stayed, lost in their kiss of union.

Volk turned away from the door, taking a deep breath of the warm spring air. He owed Elena an apology tomorrow, and he considered even getting the two a wedding gift. For a moment he thought about sticking around, but the sober part of his brain reminded him that that was a bad idea. He had spent the better part of the evening threatening them, after all.

He began making his way back to the ship, intending to check up on Shen and give her a hearty apology as well.

. .

Elena had no idea where Misha and Tomas had managed to find a moose, but she welcomed the smell of cooking venison in comparison to the easily burnt Chryssalid she was used to. 

The church graveyard was lit up with candles and bonfires in celebration, with the Skirmishers and Reapers dancing and singing side by side, eating at the same table, drinking from the same cups…

“In all my years, I never could have dreamed of such harmony.” Mox said beside her. Elena pressed her hand to his open palm and moved in a circle, mimicking his slow movements. The sound of the flute and drums carried them in dance.

“I could. In a distant dream.” Elena said. “But now, it’s real…”

From ahead of them, she heard her sisters Ludy and Slava sing, strongly, the lyrics of an old folk song she recognized. She smiled and mouthed the words along with them.

Oj, ružice rumena, što si se rano razvila? Oj, ružice rumena, što si se rano razvila? Rano si se razvila, što si mi glavu spustila? Rano si se razvila, što si mi glavu spustila?

The tune sped up, and Elena felt her husband grab her waist and pull her close into a dance more akin to the waltz. She spun away as he lifted his arm over her head, and he took her hand and pulled her back into his embrace.

Dragi mi je otiš'o, otiš'o mi je daleko. Dragi mi je otiš'o, otiš'o mi je daleko.

Mox took Elena by the waist and dipped her, and as she came back up, he kissed her forehead softly. She scoffed playfully and brought his head down towards hers, embracing him in a kiss.

“Pratal.” She whispered. “I want to go somewhere...private.”

“It’s a bit early to leave.” He raised a brow. “People will wonder where we are.”

“It’s no concern of theirs.” She nibbled his ear and whispered “Let us have our wedding night.”

. .

Za tri gore visoke, za tri vode duboke. Neće mi se vratiti, za dve, za tri godine.

Elena’s short hair ruffled in the breeze as she laid her head against Mox’s bare chest. He snored quietly, his chest rising and falling in a gentle sway that was beginning to rock her to sleep. They were bare under the trees and the open sky, covered from the waist down only by Mox’s coat. On the falling wind, the music from the party drifted over them, the warm spring air tickling Elena’s naked body. She took a deep breath in.

Oj, ružice rumena, što si se rano razvila?

“‘Till death do us part.” She whispered, but with it she was steadfast in her conviction. There would be no death to part them.

Titles did not matter. Wars did not matter. Human or alien, it somewhere in between, none of it mattered.

He loved her, and she loved him, and that was enough.

. . . . . . . . (Song: Oj, Ružice Rumena, Serbian Folk Song.

Since Moxrider is basically canon now, I figured it’s time to tie the knot~

Edit: Fixed a bunch of spelling mistakes. Get an editor kids.

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

[greyjoys-fr]

*griffin mcelroy voice* yeah baybee (PratalMox, my pride and joy and also FUCK those Wildclaw breed changes really are expensive huh?)

EDIT I JUST REALIZED THIS IS THE ONE WHERE I EDITED A GUN IN HIS HAND IM KEEPING IT BUT IM GOJNNA DIE

[ask-the-elders-chosen]

She felt as though she was drowning and he was the only solid thing in this world...

[justxcomthings]

[image source]

JXT: Straight-Up Executing Dazed ADVENT

[commanderguixi]

With thanks to https://freddyandothersxcom2ccb.tumblr.com/ for letting me use their Mox screenshot to bring you guys, this shitpost

Moxrider version:

[crazy-tea-lover]

Mox and Elena: from fighting each other to fighting back to back

[magicalcrusaderfruit]

So yeah, trying Xcom 2 again...heavily modded.

[one-that-had-to]

[xcomresistanceradio]

Lost and Abandoned Pt. 2

Skirmisher

 The atmosphere inside the Skyranger was one of tense silence. The two soldiers that remained in the hold of the aircraft were silent, preparing themselves mentally for whatever might happen down on the ground. They were heading to the meet the second contact, a Skirmisher named Pratal Mox.

Jane Kelly was more than a little apprehensive about having to escort Pratal Mox to the meeting point. Kelly had been fighting ADVENT her whole life. How was she supposed to trust one of them? Even if he had defected and joined a resistance cell.

Jane tried to remember what the Commander had told her. She pictured the woman’s calm voice in her head. Anyone who resists the elders is someone we must learn to trust, the Commander had said, her hand firmly resting on Jane’s shoulder. The ranger sighed and leaned her head back against her seat. She shouldn’t get worked up about a simple escort mission.

“You OK?” Jane looked over at her partner for the mission, a rookie named Michael Bennett. Michael was overwhelmingly kind; you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. He even looked kind. Soft brown eyes inlaid in a kinder, cinnamon brown face. His chiselled jaw and muscular build should have stood in stark contrast to the kindness he displayed but instead those two features came together. Michael looked like the kind of man that would run into a burning building to rescue children and puppies. Even the Commander doted on the rookie.

“Yeah. Just nervous.” Jane said, trying for a smile. As the Skyranger shuddered to a halt and the red lights flashed on, Michael put a comforting hand on Jane’s shoulder.

“We’ll be fine. I promise.” He said, making his way over to the open door and grabbing one of the steel cables that served as their way down. Jane followed suit and slid down the rope to the ground, shotgun at the ready. Michael was standing a little away from her, checking his data pad for the coordinates that should take them straight to the extraction point.

The two soldiers moved steadily forward, aiming their weapons forwards, on guard for anything. The first thing they noticed was the ADVENT convoy laying on the ground, fire flickering in its dying engines.

“Looks like there’s trouble ahead.” Central said over the radio. “The rendezvous may have been compromised. Stay focused, check for—”. Suddenly, an explosion rattled the street from behind the corner of a building. “Contact! Get down!”

Black smoke rose in plumes and from it, came an orange clad ADVENT trooper. It ran towards them, and suddenly jerked to a halt. Its arms flailed as a hook emerged from its chest and it was pulled back into the smoke cloud. Michael and Jane stared at each other, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and ran towards the smoke, guns at the ready.

As they rounded the corner of the building, they saw the ADVENT trooper. Standing over it, removing their helmet to reveal a grooved, alien face, was another ADVENT soldier. Or so it seemed. Jane looked over at Michael.

“Is that him?” She mouthed. He shook his head, uncertain.

“I’m guessing that’s our man. Well, our contact anyway.” Central said. Jane and Michael stayed back as the Skirmisher knelt down and lifted the head of the trooper.

“Kracsad.” Pratal Mox spat the word like an insult. “ADVENT… Puppet.” He looked straight into the eyes of the trooper.

“Vox Tala For Ten.” He said, and then, as quick as a cobra, he jammed the blades attached to his wrist guard into the head of the trooper, straight up through the chin. Michael flinched and looked away and Jane watched as the Skirmisher’s eyes began to flicker strangely. “They were sent here to hunt… To purge the Drak-ten—the lost.” He said. Mox finally released the hold he had on the soldier, letting it drop to the ground. He turned to look over his shoulder at the XCOM soldiers.

“Our meeting point is still secure.” He announced. Michael looked down at the ADVENT trooper. Before he could speak, Mox replied to his dismayed stare.

“She is free of the imposter gods. I would give anything if all my kind could say the same. Even sit down with these… Reapers.” He said. Mox placed his helmet back onto his head and walked between the two soldiers. “Now we must go.”

Jane and Michael followed the Skirmisher closely. Jane stayed slightly back, her doubts about trusting anything or anyone made by ADVENT causing her to remain mistrustful of the former death squad captain.

As the three soldiers made their way down an abandoned shipyard, Mox and Central conversed over the radio.

“The rendezvous with Outrider is just further ahead. Proceed through this district as quickly as possible. Something tells me that this city has a few more surprises left for us.” Central said. Mox huffed and shook his head.

“Surprises are the least of our worries. It is these Reapers of yours that are of true concern.”

Mox suddenly stopped and raised a fist. Dashing forwards, he hid behind the corner of one of the many buildings at the shipyard. Michael and Jane followed his lead and saw, in the distance, two more of those orange clad ADVENT troopers. They hadn’t seen the rebels yet and were standing around, seemingly waiting for something to happen. Jane itched to pull the trigger on one of them…

“Don’t remember seeing these things before…” Central said.

“You were not meant to.” Mox admitted. “Purifiers were created to contain the Drak-ten, the lost. We must eliminate this patrol quickly, before others arrive.” He turned to Jane and motioned for her to shoot.

The ranger happily obliged, jumping out of cover and pulling the trigger on her shotgun. The gunshot rattled the remaining windows on the buildings and the Purifier, caught off guard and without cover, fell to the ground, the bullets having struck him in the neck. The other purifier spun around and brandished the large flamethrower it had as a weapon. It dashed off to the right, towards the cover of one of the large warehouses to the right. Michael, however, was faster. He jumped up and pulled the trigger on his rifle. The purifier cried out, stumbled, and hobbled to cover, holding his hand over the growing wound in his side.

Mox wasted no time, extending his arm towards the ledge of one of the buildings, directly opposite the purifier. A grappling hook erupted from the wrist guard and latched itself into the crumbling brickwork. Mox was pulled upwards, towards the ledge and he landed somewhat gracefully. Mox reached for his bullpup and, before the purifier had time to react had pulled the trigger.

The first shots glanced off of the brick wall, inches from the purifiers head. The second shot went through the purifiers skull. It fell unceremoniously to the ground with a metal thunk. Mox turned to face his escorts.

“This patrol had been liberated. May their lives not be lost in vain. We must push forwards and complete our mission!” He said, jumping down from the ledge of the building. Jane and Michael followed the Skirmisher through the rest of the dock, scanning for any other ADVENT troops. Jane had to admit, her doubts about the Skirmisher were starting to fade.

Mox, suddenly, sprinted up ahead to crouch behind an alien pod. Jane, sensing something was afoot followed closely behind, crouching next to him. Michael stayed slightly behind, hiding behind a set of crates.

“Holy shit…” Jane whispered, as she finally saw what Mox had been looking at.

It wasn’t a patrol. It was an army! A massive fuel truck, surrounded by two dozen purifiers, all burning what looked like people, normal people, to smouldering crisps. Jane shook with a mix of rage and fear, as an ADVENT officer surveyed the carnage being caused.

Central was saying something over the radio but Jane wasn’t listening. She watched as the purifiers burned down another person. But when Jane looked closer she realized… they weren’t people. At least, they weren’t people anymore. Mox suddenly stood, blocking Jane’s view and approached the patrol.

“Yes. One we do not have time to face.” She heard him say and watched as he raised his bullpup and fired. The bullets struck one the purifiers, causing the fuel tank on his back to rupture. He fell against the large truck and…

“Get down!” Michael cried, tackling Jane to the ground, shielding her from the blast. The sound that followed was deafening! Jane had been protected from the worst of the blast by her partner. Michael’s ears rang and his neck felt blisteringly hot. He gasped and lifted himself off the ground. His vision was mercifully clear and he hadn’t lost too much balance either. Jane sprang up and stared at the devastation caused.

Where the fuel truck had once been, there was now a smouldering black patch on the road. The windows of all the buildings had shattered from the sound impact and there wasn’t a trace of the purifiers left. Jane threw up her hands and turned to Mox.

“Great! You killed the purifiers! But that was also our extraction point!” She cried, pointing to the black crater in the street.

“I fear that is not the worst of it.” The voice of Dr. Tygan announced over the radio. “Detecting multiple biological signatures on route to your location.” Tygan’s voice was tense.

“The lost.” Mox said. “The sounds of combat excite them. They are drawn to it.” Jane whirled on the Skirmisher and glared daggers at him.

“And you just blew up a fuel truck?!”

“There was no other choice!” Mox shouted back. “Central, find us an alternate exit; we will deal with the lost.” Jane spun around to face the large roads that connected them to the rest of the city. In the distance, she saw the lost running towards, mouths gaping and arms flailing. She looked to Mox for guidance but he seemed as overwhelmed as her. Suddenly, Michael grabbed both of them by the shoulders, spinning them around. He pointed to a nearby stack of shipping crates, piled high into the air.

“Get to high ground!” Michael said, running towards the crates. He grabbed onto the railing on the side and began to climb up, nimble as a firefighter. Mox used his grappling hook to quickly get up to the position. Jane clambered up the side like Michael had. The moment Jane was up on the crate, Michael pointed at the large avenue that was packed full of the lost.

“Jane, you take the West avenue. Mox, keep your eyes on the courtyard. Nothing gets close enough to climb up here got it? I’ll watch the East avenue.” Michael commanded the other two soldiers with all the skill of a seasoned veteran. Jane, who had taken the rookie for nothing more than that, a rookie, followed the commands with an air of delighted surprise.

As the three soldiers perched atop the shipping crate, the air was thick with suspense. Jane listened as the sounds of the lost grew ever closer. Their moans and growls were hair-raising and only grew more appalling the louder they got.

Finally, the lost appeared around the edges of the shipping crates and Jane opened fire. Her shotgun bucked in her hands as she shot. The lost were fast though, and soon enough were crowding the courtyard, clambering at the sides of the crates. Suddenly, one was on top of the crate with them, only to be quickly shot down by Mox. The lost flew off of the edge of the roof, landing with a sickening, dull thud.

“Drak-Lar.” Mox said, voice laced with disgust. “Dashers. They are not as docile as the rest of their kind.” Jane nodded and prepared to fire another shot.

Michael was methodically shooting down each lost he could see. Jane could only wonder how a rookie like him was so strategic, so adept in combat and such a good shot! Most rookies couldn’t shoot their own foot, much less a target. Michael kept on though, stopping to reload only once. As he reloaded, Jane took his place, gunning down any lost who got too close.

The group of soldiers seemed almost untouchable, up there on that crate. No lost got close enough to even clamber up the sides of the crates. But the soldiers were tiring, and Central still hadn’t found an alternate route. The lost drew ever closer. One made it up to where the soldiers were holding position. Jane drew in a deep breath and slashed at the lost with her sword. Finally, Central’s voice rattled over the radio.

“We’ve found a new route that should get you to the rendezvous point. The lost are still converging on the area though so make it fast!”

“That won’t be a problem.” Mox said. Michael was the first to jump down from the crates, moving forwards and shooting lost at every step. Jane was close behind, followed by Mox. The three soldiers, covered in dust, alien blood and sweat all entered the extraction zone and breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“Outrider and the first team should be waiting for you up ahead. I know this wasn’t the easiest op but I have to believe it will have been worth it in the end.” Central sighed. The relief in his voice was tangible. Mox, who was already climbing the ladder up to the railroad track sighed almost inaudibly to himself.

“That depends on the Reapers.” Mox said. The three soldiers made their way over the railroad, towards the rendezvous point, unaware of the fact that they were being watched by something far worse than the lost.

[witharsenicsauce]

For those of you wondering how Mox got Elena’s ring size in A Wedding in Black, well...

[blastedking]

I just really like Mox. 

[ask-the-elders-chosen]

[ Found my Moxrider poster hanging on one of the walls ;) ]