#(this is why he lives in the eliksni quarter)

[ahamkara-apologist]

Laughing at the concept of Marcie valiently trying to defend her brother from being called 'creepy' or 'weird' when the reality of the situation is that he genuinely is just like that. He's not creepy because he's autistic, he's creepy and him being autistic doesn't help that fact

[the-light-finds-its-way]

A Wish, Kel Tas Ne

The Awoken Warlock's heart weighed heavy within his chest. Walking past his siblings, all chittering and conversing, scuttling around with four arms instead of two, Velliks glanced upon his own form.

No claws. Two arms. Entirely Awoken, not Eliksni.

The man sighed heavily, frowning as he bit his lower lip, and shook the dismay away. Velliks located his Kell, then approached, bowing.

Misraaks turned around and looked upon the captain. "Velliks. You are brave as always. What may I do for you?"

Velliks lowered his shoulders, dropping his gaze. "I... I'd like some guidance, if you're willing, Kel-ne."

The Kell smiled warmly, and nodded. "Of course, Velliks, kir ma sha. Speak your heart, and I will give it Light."

Nodding, Velliks inhaled deeply, thinking for a long moment. Searching for the words to express his mind, he spoke. "I'm... not like everyone here. I haven't been. I never was." The Warlock shook his head, tensing. "You call me captain, and granted me my name as one of you, but I am Awoken walking amongst Eliksni. I mimick your habits, and your movements. Zavala believes me strange because I chitter as I speak, and I crawl around as much as I walk. He sees an Awoken. Everyone does. I see an Awoken... But... I wish I didn't have to..."

"Hmm..." Misraaks chirped gently for a moment, pondering in silence otherwise. Then, he looked upon Velliks, and motioned for him to follow. "We should not speak this matter to the House. They would be afraid, and rightly so."

Velliks stood, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You will know soon," the Kell promised. He began walking away from the rabble of all.

Quickly, the Warlock followed, rushing to his Kell's side as they made way for the outskirts of the Eliksni Quarter.

Misraaks halted, and turned to see Velliks once more. "Have you heard the tales of the Ahamkara?"

Velliks shook his head, puzzled. "...No. I don't believe I have," he replied.

"It is hard to regale one in the stories of what was and no longer is. But still the tragedies of these wish-masters is known by all who lived their wrath." Misraaks glanced to the infinite sky above. "Centuries ago, Guardians made contact with the Ahamkara. Wish Dragons. These creatures were capable of granting anything one sought regardless of what it was. However, the price was grave. That wish would be forced to drive its maker to the bitter end, in that whatever the wisher received, they'd have no choice but to submit to it entirely. If a Guardian asked for power, they'd find themself forced to obtain power by any and all means necessary including that of everyone else. They'd kill, they'd slaughter, and they would not stop until put down. If someone wished for riches, they, too, would seek their fortune at the cost of all, never stopping even if the universe were drained of all its wealth, the very promise torturing its maker to forever hunger for more. But... the wishes were granted nonetheless. Whatever was sought became theirs. And it could not be taken away.

"Guardians feared the power of the Ahamkara, and watched as all whose desires were granted tore apart the universe. The Vanguard began a mission to slay all these wish-masters for the safety of Humanity. Dead Dragons could no longer twist their promises to those whom they granted their will. And since this elimination, none have wished. There are no Ahamkara to speak desires upon. Or so the legends say..."

Shaking his head, Velliks sighed. "Why does it matter, then? What bearing do the Ahamkara have if they no longer exist?"

"I have traveled far, across many systems in this galaxy, and I have seen boundless infinities. I've heard whispers spoken through the mouths of things which cannot be seen. Those voices are waiting. Calling." Misraaks looked Velliks in the eyes sincerely. "I am certain that the Ahamkara have not all been killed. There are few, and they live. Hidden. Waiting.

"It is true an Ahamkara will force the wisher to follow their will eternally, however Guardians would free those bound by promise when the Ahamkara who granted the wish was slain. The dead cannot enact a living will. If you can find one, you can make a wish to become Eliksni. And if you gather your fireteam, you can kill it once your wish is granted. You'll be free as the very self you desire to become."

There, Velliks's mouth fell agape, his shoulders falling as he grew entirely silent for many moments. "But... Who could I even trust to do this?! Who would be willing to go against the Vanguard law to help me?! Where would I even begin to look for an Ahamkara?!"

Misraaks grinned. "The law-breaking part is simple. My partner, Anthem-99, has been dubbed 'The Lawless Vanguard' for a reason. All the same, Magnuskel is a good man willing to give aid to all in need. He is powerful, and it would not surprise me if his might alone could tear apart an Ahamkara. Both their allies are many, and with the Titan and Hunter, you will find an army ready to follow you forth as you make your wish. As for finding one, listen to the stars. Travel in the direction of voices, and seek their sources. If you hear words from something unseen, and they reach not your ears but your mind, you will know. You will find them. Let their whispers guide you. But do not go alone. An Eliksni is nothing without his House to stand by him."

Velliks immediately bowed to Misraaks. "Kel tas ne, thank you. Truly. Thank you."

Nodding, the Kell grasped Velliks's shoulder, gripping it firmly. "You are Velliks, kir ma sha. Brave and strong. You are our captain. And I am certain your unrelenting prowess will serve you well in the battle to come. Light guide you, hatchling." Misraaks smiled, releasing the Warlock, then walked away toward the House once more.

And Velliks's heart lifted, filling him with hope. Standing up, the captain smiled, chirping gently.

A wish... He would make a wish, and become Eliksni.

[thvndersnow]

THEO VESH ;;

name ; theo vesh species ; second-gen awoken, earthborn pronouns ; he/him/his gender ; trans man sexuality ; gay class/subclass ; icecracker titan ghost: strange (he/him)

phys. description ; 4'10 1/2" with dark, purple-blue skin covered in white freckles. hair is moon-white and curled, cut short and shaved into an undercut. wears gold facial and ear piercings (pictured). theo is of a muscular build typical for a titan despite his short stature, but he tends to hold on to fat around his hips and thighs. out of armor, he dresses in darker, "alt"-style street clothes. his eyes have black sceleras, and his irises/pupils resemble a pair of moons that change phase alongside the actual moon when he's on earth.

light abilities ; while theo is technically an arc-based striker titan, his arc light manifests by drawing energy in rather than expelling energy out, resulting in the creation of ice crystals and snow. this similar in ways to stasis in appearance, but his light does not form perfect crystals in the way stasis does. while not technically light abilities, theo has inherited an unrefined precognitive ability that only activates in his dreams from his awoken heritage. he is not trained on how to use it and is often very bad at interpreting and utilizing these dreams -- they really only serve to freak him out.

personality ; theo deals with heavy anxieties, a phobia towards hive, and trauma from his time in the arcology. he loves fiercely and loudly, especially people within what he considers his family, and he looks up to his twin sister like she is the sun. while he can be petty, and easy to anger, he is of the ultimate belief that mutual cooperation and support of one another is the only way to beat back the darkness, and so he tries his hand at altruism and diplomacy whenever possible - which is why his views towards the eliksni and cabal tend to be more favorable than those other guardians might have.

brief history ; theo was rezzed in the arcology on titan two hours before the start of the Red War. for the next year, he was trapped, scrabbling lightless through the dark with only his ghost, strange, for company. when the traveler was freed and his light was returned to him in an explosive burst of arc he was finally found and extracted, living and learning under sloane until another titan was able to bring him to the last city, where he re-found and reunited with his twin sister, julia.

theo's time in the arcology left him skittish and fearful, especially in regards to hive. he still wakes up panicking, and has a hard time being around hive nests.

generally, i say theo was a part of the events of shadowkeep, witch queen, and the vow of the disciple raid, as well as season of the dawn with his twin sister julia, and acted as a liaison to the eliksni quarter in season of the splicer. he is also the one who cleansed the thorn into lumina, which acts as his signature weapon.

@lepiidopterophobia is his main savathun, and orchestrated a lot of events in the arcology specifically aimed at honing him into a stronger lightbearer; despite his protests, she sees him as one of her brood. i will not be doing a similar relationship dynamic with other savathuns.

tags ; gen tag | hc tag | aesthetics/musings tag | ic tag | gen ship tag

[pawnshopsouls]

Souls and Wishes

Bonely turned the glowing blue marble in his hand, the warmth and light of it bleeding through the glove he wore to handle it. Pure Clerci energy, the condensed Aether of his brother, a Soul Stone. It hurt just to look at it honestly, but Stan couldn't pull his eyes away.

It was his brother's Soul Stone, a physical object made from 98% of his spirit trapped inside a little, glassy marble. It wasn't much to look at, but it packed a wallop when anything undead or corrupt was in range. Thank goodness for the gloves or he'd have been a pile of ashes right then and there.

The broad man turned the soul stone in his hand, its glow reflecting in his somber eyes. What a thing to see - a soul stone and the body it belongs to hanging around with powers that weren't even his. Damn that ghost... But even now he couldn't hate them. Chauncey had resurrected Sal after his brother failed to come when he needed him most...

Sure, he'd tried to reconnect, tried to bring that 98% to the last 2%, but Salem was a different guy now... well, not totally different, but he ran in different circles and the pawnbroker's efforts only weirded out the man, the guardian, his brother had become.

But Salem was still affected by it - disabled in ways nobody else could understand... it was why he needed Ether, why he'd been in trouble with the pirate kell Yyventriz, why he was still drinking ether from that baby servitor he always kept in the Eliksni Quarter.

Bonely sighed hard and clenched the marble in his hand. He didn't want his brother living like that, living a half-life when he could be living a full one. But how? He didn't know how to break or release a soul stone. He didn't know how to get all that Aether back into his brother where it belonged.

He looked out of his window at the dawning sky, the light simmering off the clouds, illuminating them like streaks of mother-of-pearl. A thought came to him. He didn't like it... but what choice did he have?

"A'right," he said quietly, "A'right..."

Setting the shining marble in its case, Bonely closed it, its polished ebony lid hiding the light within. "A'right," he said again, standing from his table. "I guess it's time I had a talk with a dragon..."

With that, he grabbed his jacket and matching fedora and stepped out into the street, an easy-to-spot sight in a crowd of hoods and turbans.

[titanicfreija]

Small Talk

As she ventured through the exit hallway (reinforced to protect from falling Guardians) and into the City, she let her feet take her left and towards the Eliksni quarter.

"Speaking of Thomas being smart," she said, as though there hadn't been a full minute of silence, "You say you're mad that he doesn't want to be a Warlock, that he's mad that he's a Warlock. You get mad at him for being a Warlock, though, way more than he ever does. He struggles with his light in his feet, and you give him shit about it. He buries himself in research, in essays, you give him shit for it. He finally does go out in the field, and you give him shit for every shot that doesn't hit the head of its target, badly placed rifts-- you have given him more shit about being a Warlock than he has. You don't want him to be a Warlock, that's not what you want out of him, and you've blamed it on that identity crisis thing. I'm not even certain you didn't give it to him. If he was actually good at any of it, I'd say you did." She paused and smiled a little. "I'm inclined to agree, though, he'd be happier as a Titan."

"Vapidity is not happiness."

Freija only laughed, and she waited to see if he would continue without her.

Patience was hard, however, and she couldn't stop herself. "And you won't help him Warlock, either. Won't help him take notes, won't do displays. You can, I know you can. Whatever's wrong has nothing to do with his inability to Warlock, or how he feels about it, or how you feel about it."

Rex didn't respond, and she guessed she finally scared him off.

Between going home to nothing and visiting the Eliksni Quarter, Freija knew which she preferred, and so she continued into the City.

"I hate the use of nouns as verbs. Languages are complicated enough without breaking the simplest of rules."

"I can fumblefuck my way through reading six languages-- there are no rules. There's hardly guidelines. From the very foundation of representative symbols, anything after pictograms or whatever, those have been completely backwards and sideways and everyone will Language as they will."

"I speak in a language beyond words-- you're all stupid."

Freija chuckled. "Sunny mentioned that, but then she says she forgets words, so I'm not sure how that works."

"She pretends she's human far too often. In addition to having what you would refer to as a short memory. Her capacity to contain information is massive, but her ability to draw on much at a time is very limited. Thus, will she preoccupy herself with current thoughts, events, or activities, and her language centers are bogged with what I can only assume are attempts to understand you."

Freija ignored the dig. He could call her stupid all he wanted if it made him feel better, she knew where her intelligence lived. "You like Sunny, if you know her that well off hand. She says you go back as far as the Tower foundations. I guess that's why you don't use her name much, you still say "Your Ghost" more than her name."

"I call Sunny friend," Rex conceded. "And indeed, I am unaccustomed to her name. She waited a millennium to finally take one up."

"Did you name yourself?"

"I did."

"Any good inspiration or did you just wake up knowing your name?" Freija asked.

"I doubt I woke up knowing, but I do not readily recall information from so long ago unless pertinent."

Freija nodded, forgetting he couldn't see her, and she frowned with thought as she 'dropped' a few glimmer cubes as she fiddled with her comms again, quickly sauntering off before anyone could try and be noble.

"So what's wrong? With Thomas? And you? What... what would you have him do? He seems to think you'd like him better if he embraced being a Warlock, but he's not paying attention. You don't want him to be a Warlock either. What is it?"

Rex didn't answer yet again, and Freija tried to let it go. "Did you want to be the one with the guns?" she offered. "Jealous you're not a Guardian yourself?"

"Why would I want that?" Rex snorted. "Made of meat, squishy and weak, prone to being blown up at only slight provocation...."

"Excuse you, tanks are more than slight."

"And you have exploded simply because of an inundation with solar energy."

"That's 'cos I died and my own couldn't stifle it anymore, I've seen that one," Freija objected. "I use that one," she added, and the corners of her lips twitched up. "But it's a shitload of fun. I wouldn't want your job, so of course I don't see why you'd want it. I dunno, would you be happier if he was a stupid ape like me?"

"You are hardly so evolved as an ape," Rex snipped, but the tone told Freija she hit a nerve way harder than she meant to, and she politely quieted back down, now worried she really would scare him off.

The silence lasted until they reached the Eliksni Quarter where Eido was holding lessons at the podium, with a pretty obvious schedule written in something like chalk on a slate of pavement nearby. Another Eliksni stood in what looked like an office built into the old Spider Tank, sorting out memory cards with a shank.

Several children came to see the Guardian-- none came close, but many sets of eyes blinked from shadows and walls as they peeked around cover and watched the Lightbearer in silent awe. The biggest ones still only stood as high as Freija's shoulder fully drawn up.

To 'play', she slipped behind cover and slithered through the rubble, placing a few cubes of glimmer in with the detritus, before she clambered out of the other side and moved to the stairs around the side of The Empty Tank, where she tucked individual cubes along the railing and into cracks on the wall. Further up, she climbed over the ruined walls and helped pull the tarps into place to better secure them on the sides. Dropping in and out of the children's sights, she enjoyed the scramble when she popped back into view and the rustling noises as they followed her.

"What are you doing?"

"Playing," she replied simply, and she hopped down to Spider's collection, and around another set of empty buildings, into a ruin, and to the garden.

A few Eliksni chattered at her, a few drew away, but Freija simply bent to help pull weeds from the dirt without further complications.

She also buried a few cubes at a corner, just for the sake of it.

"Why the glimmer?"

"They need it, I don't, but they don't like taking gifts outright. I think there was rules around exchanges and gifts in space, culture thing, so taking gifts might be a thing they feel is wrong or puts them in a position of debt or pressure to repay or whatever."

Rex fell silent once more, and Freija had to let go of the idea that he was a responsive conversational partner. She could see why Sunny liked him-- Sunny liked to fight, and from the sound of it, Rex was always looking for one. She thought Rex was the source of the discordance, but it was way more reasonable to think that Thomas had gotten to be retaliatory in his way, too, rebelling against him just because. She certainly wanted to-- something about his attitude made her want to piss him off.

"When was the last time you came into the City for real?" Freija asked. "With or without Thomas?"

No answer.

"To whom are you speaking, Guardian?" asked Eido cheerfully. "Hello!" she added. "I'm happy to see you here."

"I'm talking to... a friend of a friend, I guess? A friend of two friends."

Eido bobbed with her happy nod. "Ah! Outreach for connections to make more friends. A joyous task, to be sure. I'm sorry for interrupting!"

"You're fine, he's a little slow to talk, anyway. I think it's been a minute since he's been out," she said.

Eido only seemed confused, lowering her head before she cocked it to a side and swayed, as if examining something invisible, then swiveling her gaze to examine the area. "Is he here?" she asked nervously.

Freija wondered briefly if Eido worried more about Freija losing her mind or invisible threats and she wondered which would be worse for a few seconds. "He's a Ghost," she explained. "He's my roommate's Ghost," she specified.

Eido stood tall and rocked back with realization. "Ohhhh! How interesting. Do Guardians often make friends with Ghosts not their own?"

Freija shrugged. "He's friend-of-friend for a reason, but I'm hardly a full dataset. I've known Ghosts to take polls, I can ask mine to take one for you?"

Eido's beady eyes grew twice their size and shone like stars. "Would you do that?!" she squeaked.

Freija reflected her happy sway. "Sure thing. Sunny'll be happy to help."

[fiirecracker]

he’s trembling, whether from cold or exertion, and leah feels her very soul cry out. 

he’s too old for this, she thinks, and rests her cheek against his shoulder. he’s been through too much, seen too much. europa is cold and desolate. he’s just an old man. how could the guardians leave him here? how could they allow him to stay, knowing as much about him as they do?

“yeah,” says the girl after a moment. she shifts his weight a little (one hand under his primary arms, the other throwing his— what happened to his right arm? new plan, then. shift to the otherside, careful to keep him standing, and throw his left arm over her shoulder.) and finally begins moving towards the… “why the fuck does it look like a gas station?”

it isn’t, of course. best guess, a radio station of some kind? a relay point? leah isn’t too familiar with golden age buildings to give it much thought. she doesn’t care, either. it looks like a fucking gas station, so she’s just going to call it a gas station. variks will live with it.

shouldering the weight of the elderly eliksni, leah begins to move towards the doors. to her utmost relief, they’re automatic; opening when the pair get close enough. mismatched eyes scan across the interior. cold, metal. the insolation is fine, but when the door keeps opening and closing, what can you expect? no wonder he’s trembling. no wonder he’s wheezing. 

he can’t keep going in these conditions.

gently, carefully, leah moves within the building. she heads towards the back, where the warmth seems to drift. his quarters, maybe? she finds a chair, eases him gently down. she removes the cloak from her own shoulders, drapes it carefully over his. one hand presses against the curve of his jaw.

“you're okay,” she says again. “sit, old man. let me get you some ether. blankets. i... once that's done, once you're feeling better, i'm gunna beat your fucking ass. you know that, yeah? i'm gunna kick your fuckin' scrawny ass all the way back to the tangled shore. but not yet. not now.”

That voice.

It's her. After all this time, she's come back. Despite it all, she has found him again. Even after he left, abandoned her after all she had done for him, not even leaving as much as a notice to where he went. He couldn't have, for his own safety, but he regrets saying nothing all this time.

By the time he could reach out, he no longer knew where to begin.

There is a part of him that wants to weep, just hearing the girl speak to him. To know she is alive, and that he has not lost the only person left who cared enough to want him around. He wants to, out of sheer relief that she has seen one sunrise after another to bring her back to him. He never considered himself much for family, but Leah...

Leah is family. Variks loves her too much for it to not be so. A grand-daughter, as it were.

His eyes slowly open, and he shakes as he leans his weight into hers. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have, but he knows the only wrath he has to face from the girl is her words.

And Variks can handle words just fine.

"Leah," his vocal synth crackles with emotion, and he clears his throat to fix it. Behind his helm, his jaw quivers in that way it does when one is trying to withhold what they feel. "Variks-..."

"I would like to sit."

[jellidile]

Learn to listen

Queen Mara is busy, and deeply entrenched with a variety of issues. Dealing with Variks is not one she cares about. But perhaps... This could become a learning experience for Petra? (Literally just wanted to write Loche going a little feral and thats what I did. But also enjoy Mara chillin)

“Petra.” Queen Mara began, as she looked over documents she had been given today, “what do you think of Variks?” 

    “Variks, my queen? Why, that insolent creature should rot in the prison of elders for what he did!” Mara grimaced as she turned to Petra, 

    “Enough, do not speak of him as though he were nothing more than a bug. Speak of him with some respect, he held an incredible responsibility for a long time, and did his due diligence.”     “But, Queen Mara-”

    “He- All of his people are intelligent beings Petra, and we’ve set the standard for them to be humiliated time and time again. They lost their whole planet, and we have lost much of our Reef… We are more alike than different now.” Mara watched as Petra held her next thought and nodded.

The current fact was that the Vanguard wanted Variks to live on earth within their Eliksni Quarter. Mithrax, the leader of the district, asked for the scribe on the basis of saving what history Variks still remembered. Zavala thought he had helped enough and this exile could continue on earth. But Mara knew very well that it was Loche most of all who simply wanted to have his lover closer to home. And truly Mara was so busy with every other problem her people were now facing, that she would have agreed to a compromise of keeping Variks under lock and key on earth. If only Loche hadn’t weaseled his way into the proceedings.

That too was unfair to say. Loche had been the main actor of the Vanguard’s will when it came to the Eramis incident. Loche had helped Mara a few times too even though the Warlock had never truly saw eye to eye with her. Loche had been a deciding factor in a variety of world ending issues and so had rightfully earned his place. Mara just didn’t like how angry he always seemed to be.

    “Queen Mara,” Petra began again, “do you ask about Variks because of the talks you’re in with the Vanguard? We haven’t had one for Spider…” 

    “Spider got to earth before we could locate him. Variks is still on Europa. But I care for your opinion of him as I deliberate what to concede on.” Mara sighed again to herself. In all honesty, she really didn’t care anymore. What Variks had done was insignificant compared to quite literally everything else but Petra-

    “I say we concede nothing. He can educate the House of Light from a cell.” Perhaps Mara could see if a guardian could change Petra’s mind. Instill a bit of patience in her. 

The next talk Mara had was an informal one. Zavala, Mithrax, and Loche were all milling about. Mithrax and Loche spoke to each other in Eliksni as Zavala every now and then interjected in english. Petra whispered back to Mara, 

    “My queen, why did you want me here?”     “I thought you would enjoy being present for this. Given that Variks was under your command when he left the prison.” Petra flushed. Mara hadn’t meant anything by the comment, but clearly she had to look back at the reports and read between a few lines now,

    “Well, how about we begin some discussion?” The guardians and Kell nodded. 

Talk was slow. Zavala didn’t want Variks to be a prisoner in any way, Mithrax was inclined to agree with Zavala and Mara didn’t wants Variks to feel as though he’d gotten away from her wrath (Though she had a feeling the scribe would object to that sentiment.). Most shocking was how silent Loche had been. The exo had barely said a word throughout the entire conversation and it was beginning to distract Mara. Enough that when Zavala tentatively brought up how pointless it would be to make an example of Variks, Petra butted in instead,

    “Pointless? Queen Mara could be seen as forgetful, and besides that embarrassment should be the last she has to suffer because of the traitorous-” Mara saw where this was going, 

    “No-good-”

    “Petra, enough-”

    “Back stabbing, vulturous, Fallen!” No sooner did the words leave the Wrath’s mouth did the room turn icy. Mithrax straightened his back and grumbled, Zavala stared incredulously and Loche? Loche’s eyes flickered red as he glared at Petra. Arc crackled off him and crystals of darkness crept up his arms. Petra paused as she stared back at Loche, and Mara hoped that her Wrath would remember the God-slayer in front of her,

    “You’re just biased because of your relationship with Variks and Mithrax, Loche. They chose to run back to Skolas.” Unfortunately she did not. Bolts of arc surged off Loche as Zavala held his shoulder, 

    “As if you were any different! You hang off of Mara’s every word, and the second she came back, suddenly Petra Venj was no leader! Simply used and pushed around by bumbling guardians, pulled too thin! She couldn’t even fathom how anyone wouldn’t want to stay in a prison for the rest of their life!” No longer was there any trace of purple light on Loche, red seeped through his eyes and mouth as he strained against Zavala. Mithrax grabbed the guardians other shoulder, his voice was grave, but calm,

    “I ask that you rethink your opinions of Eliksni, Petra Venj. We are a fractured people, torn between old tradition and a new way of life. The houses are a last hope of stability for us and Variks-”

    “Variks chose to betray Mara, and Uldren died because of it!” Loche hissed, 

    “Uldren died because he was just as obsessed as you are. So don’t you go giving me a reason to defy orders. Petra.” His voice dripped with venom and suddenly Petra seemed all at once to understand what she had antagonized. Her eyes widened as she stared back at Loche, and the hurt manifested its way onto her face. Mara finally decided to step in, 

    “I believe that is enough.” She placed a firm hand on Petra’s chest and the woman looked so suddenly ashamed, 

    “I- I am sorry queen Mara. I forget myself.” Loche breathed heavily as his gaze stayed locked on. He was more like a machine in this moment than ever before. Straining against Zavala and Mithrax who’s firm resistance against him was all that stood between the guardian and threatened Petra with her very life. Mara hummed regaining control of the room, 

    “I believe we’ve all talked quite enough today. But from what I’ve heard I believe I’ll have a proposal by the time we hold our next official meeting, one where Variks can defend his own name.” Loche’s eyes flickered, and Mithrax perked up. 

    “Perhaps he can remain in a rather large and comfortable cell,” Zavala opened his mouth to interrupt, but Mara continued,

    “like the entirety of your Eliksni quarter? He would not be allowed to leave unless incredibly necessary of course…” Loche all at once stood up straight. The crystal on his arms fizzled away as his arc dulled back into its regular pulses. Zavala nodded, as he released his grip on Loche, 

    “I think that can be arranged… Thank you for the suggestion.” 

Hours later, Mara was looking through reports about what was left of the Reef when Petra walked up to her. She still seemed shaken by the revelation, 

    “So Loche was the one to-” 

    “He was.” Mara wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive the killing of her brother completely. But she was pragmatic enough to know when such an action was needed. It would always hurt her to know she’d made her brother that way. Petra couldn’t find any words, so Mara helped, 

    “You mourn the loss of love you never got to realize. Loche mourns the love that he is fighting not to lose.” Petra sat finally and she nodded, 

    “I… I acted rashly today. I have gravely offended you.” Mara smiled, 

    “And what did you learn in doing so?”     “My Queen? I- I do not know.”     “I think you learned that there is more to a creature than their misdeeds. Variks was always loyal, and truthfully, I believe he still is even though he left the prison. Loche is more than the stoic guardian you have always known. I think, Petra, you’ve learned to have patience with people. Know them fully before you push them too far.” Petra smiled and bowed her head, 

    “Thank you Queen Mara.”

    “Of course, but don’t ever let it happen again. Or I will let Loche have his way with you. I have never seen him that angry, and I’m curious what that much Light poured into a person can do.” Petra shuddered as she stood and bowed, 

    “Yes, Queen Mara. I’ll be off now, some… Cosairs have business to discuss with me.”

[phthalology]

“Why are you still here?” Jenev asks one day after the Eliksni quarter has nearly burned down.

The Drifter sits balanced on the railing beside the prototype bank. “Pleasure of your company.”

“Seriously.” She vaults up beside him. “I know you want Orin back. But I also know you want to live through whatever’s coming. And I think Savathûn’s coming.”

“You want to leave?” He looks at her with an unusual level of seriousness, then digs his canine tooth into his lip, nervous.

“No,” she says, and watches his expression reverse back to wolfish ease. “I want to see what happens. They say Savathûn’s song is infiltrating us, becoming more subtle. Maybe that’s true. And I want to protect Earth. It’s the only one we’ve got.”

“The thing is, Savathûn insists she’s a liar. You might need a liar to catch one. But, at the same time, I think she’s calling her own bluff and trying to make it a tall tale. Not hiding her truth nearly far enough under the lies.”

“So that’s why you’re sticking around? To see a lesser liar at work?” Jenev teases.

He laughs. “No.”

“I didn’t think so. You aren’t hiding your long con that far either.”

“How’s that, sister?”

“You won’t leave until the Earth is charred. Afterward, yeah. You won’t turn around and save what looks like it can’t be saved. But you’ll sidle up real close to the edge of the ending, because you’re curious. Like me.”

“A liar and an engineer. You remember what Savathûn’s Song was the first time we heard that name. Her batteries, those crystals what packaged Guardian souls up in a neat little lattice. I could use one of those. Hey, maybe that’s the universal end game. If the Traveler and the Winnower want an answer to their question of what lasts, what lives when the other thing don’t, those unused batteries might be the closest we ever really get to preserving ourselves.”

“It’s not a question of what lasts. It’s a question of who wins. Who’s right.”

“That’s what I said,” says the Drifter.

Jenev runs her hand through her short-cropped hair, trying to remember books and conversations that didn’t matter to her as much as a pine needle bed or the icy spray from a waterfall. “And if you hear that song, I might as well hear it, too.”

Is that loyalty or laziness? She doesn’t know. But she trusts her instincts for feeling out the lesser liar. And feels a heaviness in her chest when she thinks of staying with him for an end of the world he always expected to see.

[paracausal-hunter]

Out of the Mouths of Babes

-This short story takes place closer to current times, just after finding out about the lucent hive. I felt that this didn't give away too much from my main story so it was okay to post out of order. Enjoy! And if you'd prefer reading it over there, I now have an AO3 account! Read on A03 -

I’d been home from the Throne World long enough to give the Vanguard a debriefing on our latest mission. We’d discovered lightbearing Hive. We’d had to crush Ghosts to survive, and the act of killing them has left me reeling.

I leave my fireteam at our room in the barracks and wander, letting my feet take me where they will, as I’m lost in thought. Porkchop and Gary quietly float with me and keep me company, two small lights drifting after a hooded Hunter.

I soon find that my wanderings have taken me to the Eliksni quarter and as I start to look around I hear the sound of Eliksni children playing. I follow the sound to a small park where a small group of younglings are playing a game. It looks like a game I see the Human children playing, the goal being to be the only one atop the hill and proclaiming themselves King.  

I quietly make my way to the shade of a nearby building and sit leaning against the cool concrete to watch them as My Ghosts put themselves Away. One of the children is larger than the rest and pushes and shoves his friends off the little rise they’re on but he’s only one and they are many. The drag him off the hill and scramble to be the ‘Kell of the Hill’ before their friends can claim the title.

I close my eyes and listen to their happy scrambles and chittering jeers in Eliksni. The children themselves and Pumpkin were teaching me to speak it, and while I understand more than I can speak I can still hold most of a conversation in Eliksni.

Listening to the children takes some of the edge off my raw emotions and I’m quietly observing them when I hear someone walking up to me. I turn my head and find Misraaks approaching me. As I make to get up, he motions for me to stay and joins me on the ground.

“To what do we owe the honor of your presence friend Vylos?” He asks me in Eliksni using the name the children gave me, his eyes also watching the children.

“I don’t know if it’s an honor friend Misraaks. I don’t feel very honorable right now.” I sigh and hug my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them.

Misraaks considers me for a moment, his head tilted to the side. “What is wrong Vylos? Come, tell your friend, I will help you through this thing you struggle with.”

I’m silent for a long while, a smaller child who’s wearing a little tattered hood with a scarf that drapes down suspiciously like a cloak is declaring herself Kell of the Hill before I speak in a monotone.

“You know that the hive have ghosts now, it’s weighing on me that I’ve had to kill them.” I close my eyes and lower my face to rest my forehead on my arms, squeezing my eyes hard to stop the tears that threaten to fall. “I killed them Misraaks. I killed a little light.”

Misraaks is quiet as he sits next to me, many times bigger than myself and he makes very little sound when he wants to. He switches languages as he asks quietly, “Why did you kill them? Did you do it out of malice?” He lets me shake my head before continuing. “The light bearers would have killed you had you not taken the small ones life yes?”

I nod into my arms, still unable to speak or look at him.

“They would have then gone on to take your light and make more of them. After that it’shard to say what they would have done but it’s safe to say that they would have likely threatened the lives of many, yes?” I hear his armor creak as he leans closer to me placing one of his large hands on my back in a comforting gesture.

I look up at him and nod, I swipe at the tears and I can tell the moisture is starting to take the makeup I use to hide my facial markings off.

“Then I think friend, that troubling as it may be, you have still saved lives this day, and you should let yourself rest with that knowledge.” Misraaks tone is firm and warm, he tends to wear his helmet most of the time, so I can’t be sure, but I think he’s smiling at me.

Looking down at the ground in front of me I respond, “Can it be that easy? Could I have saved them? Convinced them not to revive their light bearers? Am I no better than the enemies I’ve fought against my whole life?”

Misraaks pats my shoulder, “The life of being hunted by light bearers is one that is fraught with many hard questions, we asked many of the same questions you ask yourself.” He tells me before withdrawing his hand. He sits back and lets his eyes settle on the children once more. “I think that you did the best you could in the moment. You were trying to protect all of us from a long-time enemy, and that is the most honorable thing you could do.”

I give him a deep sigh, “I guess.”

“May I ask why you came here while troubled?” He asks.

I nod at the children, “Watching them always makes me feel better. House Light children being able to play in the shade of the Traveler without fear of having to run and hide makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, there is hope for a peaceful future. That maybe Guardians can safekeep all those who wish to walk in the light, not just those who look like us.” I glance up at him and see the little jolt of surprise before he softens again.

“Then let us see what they have to say on the matter.” He calls out to the children in Eliksni, “Younglings, come here please, our friend Vylos needs your opinion on a matter.”

I look on in surprise as the children all stop the game and scramble over to us, apparently, I’d been sneaky when I’d sat to watch them as when they spot me they shriek my Eliksni name and swarm around me. One is bold enough to sit next to me and cling to my arm, covering themselves in my furry Lightkin cloak. Unsurprisingly, it’s the small one with the hood.

“The mighty Vylos needs our help?” The small one with the hood asks, I remember her name is Koraaks, she is always following me when I’m around. The other children sit close to me, and I sit up and cross my legs giving them all a smile.

Misraaks nods, “The Guardian is troubled, I wonder of you children could listen to her and help her?”

The children’s little faces look at me hopefully, little Koraaks hugs my arm tight and demands in her little voice. “Friend Vylos tell us what is wrong! We will fix! We are wise!” The other children agree fervently, the taller one pounds his chest with both of this right fists for emphasis.

I give them a genuine smile before lifting the arm that Koraaks is holding and scooping her into my lap where she settles in and lets me place my arms around her.

“I am sad. I had to do a bad thing to do a good thing and it troubles me deeply.” I tell them softly.

“What kind of bad thing?” A child on my left asks me.

I rest my cheek on Koraaks’ little head and give her a hug before answering, “I had to end the life of someone who would normally be one of my allies.”

The children still, but creep closer after a moment, all are listening with rapt attention. Koraaks looks up at me and I lean back to looks down at her. “How come you had to kill them?”

I look away, unable to meet her eyes. “They were helping the enemy hurt people. I didn’t see another way to stop them.”

Little Koraaks squirms in my lap and faces me, she reaches up her hands and turns my face to hers. She frames my face as she looks deeply into my eyes. I let her see exactly how I feel as I let my walls drop for her. She searches my world-weary face and nods solemnly.

“Friend Vylos protected the House from danger. Friend Vylos is great warrior, would never kill friend unless it she had to to protect us.” She says this so matter-of-factly that the other children nod and reach forward to touch me, each one a comforting pat.

“An ally who helps the enemy hurt other allies is an enemy.” She continues with conviction.

I smile at her and glance at Misraaks who has been quiet through this, he’s nodding at her words too. “I don’t think it’s as easy as that little one.” I tell her.

She takes her hands from my face and puts them on her hips. “Of course it is, warriors protect their house from danger. It is so.” She looks at her friends and they nod and repeat “It is so.”

She continues, “Vylos is warrior. Vylos protects us, it is so.”

The younglings echo her and suddenly I’m crying for another reason entirely. I gather her into my arms and give her a tight hug. “Thank you children.” I snuffle and repeat myself in Eliksni “Thank you.”

The children come forward and cover me with their arms in one big hug, I’m surprised when I feel the weight of Misraaks’ big arms join them. I snuffle and look up at him as he lets us go. If these children of a people who are so used to making tough decision after tough decision simply to survive say it’s as simple as that, maybe it is.

“Thank you friend Misraaks, I needed this more than you know.” The children step back and look to their leader as he starts to stand. He looks down at me, his posture soft.

“The sight of a Guardian taking comfort from the children of my house is one that I will cherish for all my days. We trust you friend Morgana, your path is not an easy one to walk, but we are here for you to help you along the way, you need only ask.” He motions at the hill the children were playing on a moment ago.

“Tell me children, who is Kell of the Hill?” He asks smoothly.

The children perk up and each proclaims that they are Kell of the Hill. They all scramble away, the only one who hesitates is little Koraaks who looks back at me. “Will you play with us today friend Vylos?”

I smile at her as I stand up and dust off my cloak, “I don’t know friend Koraaks, my pride might get hurt when you shove me off the hill to my doom.”

She gives me a toothy grin and pulls me to join the tussle on the hill. I spend the evening letting the children push me around and only get to be Kell of the Hill a couple times before I’m quickly brought tumbling down into the dirt surrounded by House Lights future. Misraaks watches us for a time until he is called away by duty.

Maybe, just maybe, it really was as simple as they say. Maybe the Ghosts had made their decisions, I’d still try and see if we could talk them out of their decisions, but I know one thing for sure.

I am a Guardian of the Last City and her peoples. I will kill anything and anyone who threatens those who cannot protect themselves. My job isn’t always safe or fun, but someone has to do it. Luckily, my fireteam is up for the challenge.

[bonesingerofyme-loc]

Let’s discuss Eliksni

This current season, Season of the Splicer, has a focus on Mithrax and the House of Light and Eliksni in particular as a species. Following with the landmark alliance between Caitl’s leftover Imperial Cabal and the Vanguard, now Mithrax has founded the House of Light and reached out a hand of peace to the Last City.

To this end, he has offered his services to the Tower and the Vanguard and in return, Ikora offered the House of Light resettlement within the City limits, under the Traveler.

This is the start of how incredibly poorly thought out everyone has acted in this season.

Ikora offered shelter to the House of Light without Consensus approval - hell, without even consulting with Zavala. She invited aliens into the Last City unilaterally, which, yeah, no shit that’s going to cause friction. 

Mithrax, in the first mission, when we chat with him, Osiris and Lakshmi in the Fallen Quarter, states that he will keep his House here and away from the rest of the City. We then have quite a few lorecards from weapons and whatnot detailing Eliksni out and about, alone, in the greater City. So was that a lie, Mithrax?

I get what the angle is here. I really do.

But allegory is fucking stupid.

There is nothing remotely similar between the Fallen/Human relations in the Destiny universe and hostile relations between nations or peoples on Earth IRL.

I think it’s all too easy for a reader to forget that Eliksni are alien. No matter how different a person’s culture might be on Earth, they are still human. They are still exactly the same as anyone else. You can look at them and see yourself. Their internal existence is, at least if you’re not going full solipsist, the same as your own. And you can bet on that because they’re human. We all grew up on the same planet. We all ate the same things, shat under the same stars, watched the same moon come up at night. It doesn’t matter from which corner of the globe you’re from or the divergence of phenotype, we’re all still human, closer than close. 

Eliksni (and Cabal, and Hive, etc) are alien. They are fundamentally different in a way that two cultural groups on Earth can never, ever be. Their brain chemistry is nowhere remotely comparable, assuming they even have brains in the way we’d describe it. There is no way to bridge the species gap about internal lives and existence - they are intrinsically other. They share none of the same, most  fundamental experiences of being that humans do, just as we do not for them. 

This isn’t to say that an alien can’t be empathized with or treated fairly, what I’m saying is that you cannot, in any way, compare an alien to a human, especially in how a person would relate or react to them.

Take a horrible war on Earth. From any time period. You’re going to have belligerents on both sides, deep-seated dislike and hatred of each other. But these things can pass and there are always, always those who are against it on either side. And they fade away. The scars can remain, at times, but these differences are driven by cultural rivalries and those cultures can fade away or move together. And over time can be lost in the collective visage of humanity, which does not bear a brand on it’s sleeve of ancient allegiance to one or another.

Do you know what cannot ever change? Biology. An alien will always be alien, no matter how close you associate with them or how long. There will always be a deep, fundamental disconnect in some major areas that cannot be crossed because you cannot be them and they cannot be you. 

And this is fine - a human should be human and an eliksni should be eliksni, or insert whatever favorite alien you have there. 

What gets me, though, is when writers treat ‘race’ and ‘species’ as interchangeable. It’s why I tend to take issue with using ‘race’ when referring to fantasy species, especially when there is no interbreeding possible. Dwarves and elves can get a little loosy-goosy there. 

You have these lorecards about Eliksni getting hate crime’d by the human population in the Last City or being shunned or prejudiced against and the r/dtg subreddit is all up in arms about the evil civilians and it’s like look - they’re aliens.

The fuck else did you expect?

This isn’t a case of accepting some human refugees in, this is a group of aliens that for seven hundred years have been the bogeyman for very real and very literal reasons. 

Humans have positive experiences with other humans all throughout life.

Humanity has not had a single positive experience with aliens since we learned alien life exists. I’m excluding the Traveler here, frankly, because it’s a cosmic god. 

For the seven hundred or so years that alien life has been a reality for the human race, they have been devoured, hunted to extinction, brutally sacrificed, used as torture fodder, used to feed eldritch gods and other, lovely, lovely things. 

Is it any surprise that the first time alien faces are seen in the Last City it’s met with hostility? There are zero positive experiences with aliens for all of humanity. The only ones who have had some are Guardians. The face of an alien means death or worse. The face of a human can mean that but again - we know so many humans in our lives, of all stripes. Here though, an alien, any alien, any face that is not comfortably human, means death. Something that the entire population of the Last City was very forcibly and violently reminded of just recently with Ghaul’s invasion and the subsequent slaughters that happened. Did we forget the citizens thrown to the warbeasts to be devoured?

The eliksni of House Light don’t deserve the hostility, of course. But it’s not surprising and really, it’s not the fault of the civilians. The fault is squarely on the shoulders of Ikora for deciding this incredibly poorly thought out move unilaterally and Mithrax for not recognizing that this was going to happen.

Because it goes both ways. Fallen haven’t had a single positive experience with aliens in all their existence, either, remember. For them, any alien, including humans, meant death. The thing with Saint-14 being a demon? Excellent! Perfect in showcasing this dynamic! But the stupidity is in recognizing this and then just going ‘lmao nah just give them free range in the Tower which is infested with Guardians, which they’re going to be terrified of.’ This is the purest of idiocy, a complete failure of leadership on all sides and is really quite insensitive to the needs of both species. 

So is the solution permanent segregation of species? No, but it’s definitely not just letting Fallen wander at whim and go to fucking ramen shops. This is seven hundred years of human-side bias and god-knows how long for eliksni to overcome. 

Aliens aren’t human. It bothers me when they’re treated that way because it’s lazy. This is a unique and fascinating angle in a story, one that is uniquely science fiction. Treating it as just a clumsy allegory for human relations is a waste of text (and also, ironically, a bit insulting to what the allegory is about. Unless you’re cool with implying that some people are as inhuman and inscrutable as literal bug aliens which is a yikes from me, dawg).

Maybe the salient point that Bungie is trying to make this season is that Ikora and Mithrax are complete knobheads and worthless leaders, but I’m gonna hazard that’s not the case.

[i-do-trash-fanfictions]

20 Fluff/Relationship Prompts—mayhaps 13 or 20 for your guardian and crow??

I chose to do number 13. Thanks for the ask!

Num. 13: "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts." "I'll stay for as long as you need."

It was later that night that Thera was sitting alone in her room. Her Ghost lay on his nest on her nightstand, not saying anything, just staring at her. He honestly wasn't sure what to say. What could he say that he hasn't told her already on the walk back.

Thera's mind was still on the thoughts of what had transpired only a few hours ago. She knew it was over but she couldn't help but think what could have happened. How so many more people and Eliksni could have died. How they could have lost the City, just like they had in the Red War.

Why would Lakshmi do this? She wondered. But more so she asked herself why Osiris did what he had done. The old man and her weren't the closest but she still cared for him like a friend. He reminded her a lot of Sora. She found herself thinking about what Sora would do about all of this.

She spent a few more minutes in her thoughts before the door to her room opened and a figure stood in the doorway. She took one look and knew it was Crow. He was dripping wet from the rain that had moved in an hour after the Eliksni quarters had been deemed safe.

He stepped inside, removed his hood, and laid his mask on the table. In his hand, he was holding a bag that contained two take-out containers. He and Thera stared at each other for a second. Crow took note of the clearly evident tear streaks that stained her cheeks.

He laid the containers on the table and moved to the tiny kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was make coffee just the way she liked it. He then returned to sit beside her on the bed. Immediately his arm was wrapped around her waist in comfort, and Thera sunk into his warm embrace.

She tried not to cry again.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" He began by asking.

She shook her head no.

"Well, I brought some Chinese food. Your favorite. And I made sure they didn't forget the fortune cookies this time."

Thera gave him a small smile.

"How is Trildir?" He had to know. He was just as much friends with the House Light resident as Thera was.

Her smile disappeared as Thera stood up to grab the take-out food. She gave Crow one and sat back down.

As they began to eat she said, "Her leg got amputated. Amanda will make her a prosthetic as soon as she can."

"What of Sora and Rilis?" He asked.

"Staying with Trildir's sister. They'll have to until Trildir can get used to moving around with the prosthetic. I offered to help babysit. I know Tyris is the House’s main errand-runner so she won’t be able to watch the two all the time.”

Crow nodded. “I’ll help too.”

The two ate in silence for a while.

“You don’t believe it’s your fault do you?” Crow finally acknowledged the elephant in the room. He knew how Thera thought and he knew that she had been here, thoughts running rampant, ever since she returned from the Eliksni quarters. She had kept her composure there, but he knew the second she had returned to her room she had broken down over the lives she could not save, human and Eliksni alike.

“I should have protected them better.” She whispered. “If I had just been there I could have stopped anything from happening. No one would be dead. What was I doing while Lakshmi was opening that stupid portal, gathering the Eliksni for their banishment? I was flying through the EDZ for no reason at all, messing around. All while I should have been here protecting-”

“Thera you’re allowed to have fun. You couldn’t have known-” Crow began.

“No, I couldn’t have known, but I’m a Guardian! I’m supposed to protect the Last City! I’m supposed to be here, ready to stop anything that might harm the citizens. And where was I when I was needed to guard those Eliksni? I was out doing barrel rolls!” She began to cry, her face buried in her hands.

“Thera, look at me.” Crow lowered her hands to stare her in the eyes. “It was not your fault.”

“But-”

“It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. Yes, you are a Guardian. One of the best I’ve ever met. But you have to understand, you’re not just a protector. You’re not just the Young Wolf. You’re Thera, an awoken woman who loves going to cat cafes and flying in ship races. Not everything in your life has to be work. You don’t have to always be on guard duty, or on missions or out scouting. Sometimes you can just simply be Thera. What happened out there was Lakshmi’s doing, not yours. She’s the one to blame. Just because you weren’t here doesn’t mean it was your fault. What matters is that you were here the second Mithraks called for your help. What matters is you fought as many Vex as you could and shut down that portal.”

Thera nodded.

“Can you stay?” She asked after a moment. “Please. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts for any longer.”

“I’ll stay for as long as you need,” Crow responded with a kiss to her forehead.

They ended up picking a movie, sipping their coffee, wrapped in a blanket and each other’s embrace. They fell asleep together, and didn’t wake until the dark clouds moved on and the noon sun burned in the sky.

[pyrewriter]

Short Medical leave

Previous Chapter   Next Chapter(coming soon)   Chapter Guide

Eliksni name pronunciation: Sovrreik (Sov-rr-ike) 

 Uncle was ecstatic to see that we had not only made it through the night but managed to save all those that would have otherwise been left to their fate. The Dregs who assisted me in the trench were to be promoted for valiance as well as their display of loyalty and ability. Similarly to how my brother and I these Dregs would skip the rank of Wretch but they would not yet be vandals, moving directly to Marauders was a significant honor nonetheless. Ogethres had been thinking of rewarding them and my report gave him more than enough to use as justification. The fellow Vandal would not become a Captain but would be honored for their role in assisting defend the wounded. 

Deliberately I did not mention the Wretch who had earlier attempted to strike a defeated Risen's tiny machine. During the flight back in the Skiffs of a morning crew they approached me and expressed their regret, I scolded them but felt that was enough. There was no sign of deception in their words ,if there was they could not hide it from me, so reporting would be demeaning. I left them with wisdom uncle once told me once "An enemy defeated, be watched, but left well alone".

Uncle sent me to the infirmary just to be sure that I was not internally injured from prolonged combat. The medical staff asked me to lay down so they could properly examine me but when I tried my body refused to relax fully. While I was checked over I couldn't help but chuckle at the hilarity of how I most likely looked like one the old stone likenesses of humans often found in city remnants. Once the medical machines came up as normal the medics told me to avoid combat for a while just to make sure I wasn't on the brink of collapsing. 

Normally I would have simply thanked them for their care and advice before charging headlong into the next mission but I decided to listen to our medical experts for once. Fortunately there was always more than enough work that needed to be done, with my engineering skills I favored more hand on jobs. Sometimes younger Dregs that had heard of or seen my work in the field would murmur in curious clicks whenever I would dive for maintenance on submerged areas of our home. I always thought it sobering for the younger in the guild and humbling for myself as it kept me from discounting the effort of others or believing myself greater because of my station.

Brykis had similar sentiments but if one were to ask him he would tell them that he simply didn't like the thought of his brother being left out. I would often find him helping process collected salvage or teaching fresh Vandals how to use and maintain their equipment. Father Pyrrhaks was always busy with political squabbles as our uncle Ogethres trusted few others with such delicate responsibilities but they rather enjoyed more menial tasks. Often in luling times both Ogethres and Pyrrhaks would wear simple robes and chat casually or help with small unofficial tasks around the coast. 

A few days into our off time ,before Brykis or myself had even fully woken, our door opened, uncle's unhelmed face greeted us with a smile. "Come, relax today, little responsibility, Pyrrhaks join soon" he said nodding for us to follow him once we were dressed. During our medically required break, uncle seemed to realize just how long it had been since all five of us had been present at one time at the coast with little to keep us busy. Brother left first after wrapping himself in more relaxed cloth than our usual armor, I was still feeding on my morning Ether from Sekos-4 after wrapping myself. When I followed Brykis father was already with them so I was last but with all of us gathered now uncle revealed his intent.

"Long time since had much free-time, wanted to spend with family" he clicked with almost excited vigor, I smiled beneath my wraps and chuckled slightly. In my many years of life I had heard many recounts of the ferocity of Arkons, their amazing strength, how Risen struggled with an all but unguarded priest reclaimed from the Prison of Elders. All these stories are true yet they never tell of their lives off the battlefield or how they were as leaders. Sometimes I wondered if they were anything like uncle but from what I know of the times before House Dusk I doubted it. 

Following Ogethres we waved and warmly said hello to those we passed as we walked, the casual nature of our guild on full display. I've heard from wandering gangs and our usual traders that we are strange because of our lax attitude with a thriving gathering of Eliksni so close to the Great Machine. Whenever they remarked on such things I always compared us to when our people first met humanity, perhaps weak at a glance behind our walls but every maw hides teeth. Often such words would get me sideways looks and in truth I couldn't blame them, it was a human saying.

Uncle had walked us down near one the end of the wall that bordered our home where it met the waters edge. It was a rather quiet area while still having line of sight across everything to the opposite end of the wall. There were a small number of Dregs and Vandals milling about moving aquatic animals of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors that they had caught. Ogethres called with a loud clack that got the attention of a more round looking Captain who raised an arm in greeting before lumbering over to us. 

"Greetings my Arkon, how been, long time no talk" she clicked with a flemish voice.

Ogethres waved a hand "Been well, busy and well, apologies for little talk, much happened" he chuckled "should know, you part of that". 

"Bahg, so much movement, difficult move so much so quickly, thankful for you, Ogethres my Arkon" the Captain replied with clear gratitude in her voice. Bowing her head she turned with a wave for us to follow as she showed us a spot among other workers casually chatting or humming tunes. "Four sets, as requested, told other to treat same as any" the Captain listed, adding with a chuckle under her breath "Hehe, can't stop all though" she joked 

"Your effort enough, thank you friend, Great Machine bless" Ogethres told them with a low chitter and a hand over his heart. Pyrrhaks, Brykis, and myself bowed our heads slightly and rasped in thanks for the Captains effort to coalesce as well as allowing us to use their equipment for recreation. The Captain echoed the blessing before heading off to direct idle dregs to what needed to be cleaned or stuffed with coolant. "Come, let us 'fish' as it is called" uncle stated as he strode across the sand toward a set of poles with string dangling from them. I recognized such poles from movies I had stored in Sekos-4. 

All four of us were absolutely terrible at using the poles which led one of us ,often uncle, getting a sharp metal hook caught on themselves. Despite this however we continued to learn both through trial and error as well as tips from fellow Eliksni around us fishing around us. Once everyone was able to get their hooks into the water with relative consistency we were fishing as a family, it felt nice, a calm that I hadn't known for quite some time. We caught a fair amount of aquatic life but nothing astonishing, patience, luck, and knowledge were what made one good at catching water dwelling creatures.

Time felt like it slipped by while we sat enjoying the presence of each other and before we realized it the sun was setting over the horizon. We had managed to spend an entire day sitting in the sand with poles in hand to help feed hatchlings and sprog. Thankfully nothing that couldn't be handled by those uncle left in charge appeared during our time on the edge of the wall. While the rest of my family went off to rest or double check the feeds for anything that slipped through I went to fulfill my nightly duties. Slipping into my work harness I chuckled at myself ,it was a completely peaceful day for our guild, still I worked through the night consuming only enough Ether to not deprive myself. 

The next morning I found myself being woken by an engineering Dreg, apparently I had blacked out with my legs dangling from an access hatch. Laughing at their description of how they found me ,"Similar Arkon threw you during accession, right in hole", I thanked the Dreg before heading to my quarter. Luckily I had been awoken before most others so no one knew that I never made it back after they bedded down. Brykis did wonder what I was doing up so soon as I fumbled around trying to get my standard armor on. 

"On Ether crew, morning deploy" I told him, it was no lie, I did sign on to be escort for an Ether extraction at the earliest signs of day. 

He shook his head while rubbing a set of eyes with one hand "Doctor told no exertion, you against better judge?" he asked pointedly.

"Extracted before, same spot, quiet, go stretch legs, take light load" I reassured him grabbing only my dagger "Worry much, brother". Taking a moment to pay tribute to Esyra before leaving I set off to meet the other members of what would be my crew in the hangar to be told the details of our mission. During the brief I learned we were taking our Prime Servitor ,Sovrreik, which explained the larger than normal present crew. Ogethres thought it best to keep them within the safety of the ketch ever since the Risen had discovered our underground compound before. 

I found it odd that we were taking the prime servitor but before I could raise the question as to why we were taking such an important figure I got my answer. "Risen damage collection servitors, as see, taking extra guard, collected sector before, near coast, safe, pack light" the leading Captain clicked tossing aside a data pad. Most were fairly new Vandals but they had enough experience with combat that I was unconcerned about any wildlife we may encounter. Boarding our Skiffs and hovering as we waited for Sovrreik.

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[elaraves]

The Assignment

Elara sat in a cushioned seat across from a large curved wooden desk. The warm lights were dim this morning, the newly returned sunlight glaring down through the wide windows that overlooked the Last City. A few were opened fully, allowing the summer breeze to faintly catch the few mini windchimes and other hanging decor. The desk in front of her was just as cluttered with books and transcripts as the last time her appearance was requested here. To her left against the wall, a variety of artifacts also remained cared for. A stick of incense slowly burned away beside them, the familiar faint smell of dark berries filling the air.

“Thank you for coming,” a familiar voice welcomed Elara from her side.

Elara turned to face her superior, Ikora Rey. She entered from her side room behind one of her many impressive walls of tomes and text, and placed a few sheets of parchment down on her desk. She gave a faint smile when she faced Elara, but it quickly subsided, a grim look unintentionally returning to her. Elara could tell there was something bothering her immediately.

She sat down in her own chair and laced her fingers together atop her desk as she affixed her attention on Elara.

“Do you know why I called you here?” she asked.

Elara’s brow furrowed with apologetic concern as she shook her head. She had no idea what this was about, but knew it had to be important based on the energy she was picking up, other than being called privately.

“There has been an.. unfolding of events,” Ikora answered carefully.

Elara’s eyes widened slightly as she held her breath in worry, but she remained silent for Ikora to speak.

“I’m sure you’re aware of Saint’s search for Osiris after the Vex invasion in the Eliksni quarters?” she continued.

Elara nodded her head. She was down there in the old Botza Ruins helping House Light recover from the assault when Ikora summoned her. It was unbelievable how much rubble and debris was still being removed. The refugees also needed extra hands rebuilding living quarters, along with other equipment, to make living in an old bombed out center easier. She found it a little ironic, given that they were capable of growing multiple arms, but regardless she was more than willing to assist where she could. Many of the inhabitants had gotten used to her company now, something that she had worked hard to achieve. She always wanted to show them that she was a friend. It helped knowing some of the basics of their language. Velask was a word she’d gotten too used to saying.

“Well he followed his trail to the Dreaming City, where Crow met with him, and they found.. him… or so they thought.”

Elara paused, she didn’t like how she said “him”.

Ikora turned her attention to the parchment she set on the desk between them and pushed it further out to meet Elara.

“You filed a private report on Osiris weeks prior that was dismissed,” Ikora calmly recited to her as she gestured at the paper, “Would you mind explaining that to me?”

Elara’s face twisted in defensive confusion. Was this about her report? For doing what she thought was right?

“What do you mean?” she retorted.

“You’re not in trouble, I just have questions. Can you tell me why you filed it?” Ikora calmly responded.

Elara took a breath and a moment to recollect herself and her thoughts.

“He was spending a lot of time pouring over the records after you gave him full access, an almost unhealthy amount,” Elara began, “I’d occasionally start conversation in passing and.. there just seemed something different about him. I shrugged it off as… Sagira’s passing.”

The both of them collectively held a moment of uneasy silence at the mention of their mutual friend’s fate.

“Then he stopped me to ask about the Red War… about how the Traveler was caged by Ghaul…. I shared my story and observations. I was close enough and looked over at his research and found many texts of accounts of early Guardians during the Dark Ages, theories on how the Traveler came into being and gave its power to the Ghosts, with a few recovered from Future War Cult on their Vex tech and a diagram of the device that stunned Zavala’s Ghost… I offhandedly joked with him, asking if he was trying to make his own Ghosts…”

Elara shifted a bit in her seat and looked away from Ikora for a moment.

“He laughed it off, but there was a sliver of a moment… his eyes.. there was a flicker in them. A look of hungry power behind a mask..”

Elara looked back to Ikora, who still watched her intently.

“I made the report that night.. Something just didn’t sit well with me. I thought if anything, if it was still mourning, the report would force him to talk with someone about it but… nothing came of it.”

Ikora took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, before speaking.

“I want to apologize for that.. you were right,” she said.

“What do you mean? What happened?” Elara interrupted, “Is everyone ok?!”

“Osiris wasn’t… Osiris,” Ikora answered.

Elara stopped to turn that sentence over in her head.

“Again.. what do you mean?”

“We were deceived for a time. I was made aware by Saint that Savathun, the Witch Queen, disguised herself as him.”

A shiver went down Elara’s spine. To think their enemy was among them this entire time, working in the background while offering “council”. Elara had read of such deceptions in a few of the fantasy novels she occasionally divulged in during her free time, but she never expected to actually be faced with it, let alone speak with them.

“She was contained by Mara Sov, who she made a mutual agreement with. If the Queen removes her worm, she agrees to return the real Osiris to us and work to remove the curse Quria left on the Dreaming City.”

“And we agreed to this?” Elara said slightly bitterly, “We can trust that she’ll keep her word, that Osiris is still-”

She didn’t finish her sentence. She couldn’t bear to say it, and the hurt in Ikora’s eyes made her feel even worse. Instead, she called out to her Ghost, who apperated beside her moments later.

“Can you inform Misraaks and Vikrhys that I will be departing on business for some time,” she asked him.

He nodded with his entire shell to her, before disappearing from sight again.

“What are you planning?” Ikora questioned her.

“I’m going to offer my help to the Reefborn,” Elara answered, “I might not like it, but if it’s our best shot at getting him back and stopping the curse cycle too, then I’ll do what I can. That and I want to keep an eye on things and make sure there’s no deceit.”

“So we’re in agreement then?”

“Wait.. were you going to assign me to this?”

Ikora smiled faintly and nodded. “I want more people there I can trust, and clearly you have the eye for it already.”

Elara smiled back, it felt nice to be entrusted with such an important endeavor.

“I only ask that you handle this with discretion. I know it will take no time for word to spread of these recent events, but I want to make sure nothing prevents our and the Reef’s success.”

Elara nodded and stood from her seat. “You have my word. Besides, I need to catch up with Crow and Petra separately. I can only imagine how the first meetings have gone so far. They probably spooked him already.”

A single chuckle escaped Ikora’s lips as she rolled her eyes. “Thank you, friend,” she smiled in relief.

Elara nodded and turned, walking back towards and through the sliding door from which she came.

[thenameisel]

Origin Stories Part Three: Stumble and Fall

"Thank you for sharing." Elliott said over coms. There was a pause. Then as if not wanting to accept that the story had ended, he continued. "Say. Did you find anything interesting at the Truck Stop?" 

Boop chuckled and leaned forward in the cockpit. A black gloved hand tapped a weird figure on the dash. Something Pip had decided was a 'Bobble Head'. Shaped like a moose, it's comically oversized head bounced back and forth. When they had found it, all those years ago, the plastic’s color had faded and spring rusted away. With a little care it looked almost good as new. Turns out Boop was halfway decent with a paintbrush. 

"I'll have to show you sometime. Old world figure. Think you'd like it."

"So, guess it's my turn?"

"Nah. Take a nap. I could use some quiet myself. We should be fresh for landing anyway." 

"Thats fair." There was mild disappointment in Elliott's voice. "Poke me if anything comes up."

"Will do." Boop muted the channel, and reached back into the thick black fur lined hood, causing Pip to release an angry sounding series of beeps. "Stop that. I want to recline. I can't do that with you there!" 

"Oh fine." Pip grumbled as he was removed from the hood, but the lights flowing across his eye was a slow content parade of color. He resettled in Boop's arms once the Hunter had leaned the seat back, and the two settled in for some nice reflective quiet. 

---------------------

"Arrival in fifteen minutes." 

Elliott jerked awake, the scraps of some dream involving Hive fading quickly from memory. He rubbed his face and shook his head, trying to remove the fog of sleep. Caush hovered steadily at his shoulder. 

"Pip's chosen landing zone is an estimated twelve minutes, twenty second sparrow ride from the target. Should give us an element of surprise. I would have picked a location further out, to reduce the chances of the ships being spotted, but calculations show the distance is… adequate." 

Caush was rambling again. Elliott squeezed his way out of the small cockpit and into the only slightly larger space behind the pilot’s seat. He had to stoop quite a bit. 

"It's an industrial area, lots of cover. Target is holed up in a shipping warehouse. We unfortunately don't have recent info on the area, but I've prepared multiple calculations on the most likely scenarios."

Their ship wasn't appointed great for long trips away from the tower, but the two of them wouldn't trade it for the shiniest exotic. It was a junker Caush had discovered many years ago, long before finding Elliott. Keeping the ship's location secret the Ghost had waited till his Titan's first Dawning to reveal its location. Together the two had worked many long hours fixing it up. To them it was worth the world. It could seat four between the cockpit and a wide bench behind in a space not big enough to call a cabin. However, there was plenty of storage hidden in the walls and floor. And while the ship did boast some decent communications and recon equipment, it completely lacked any form of living luxuries. But they made do. 

Fighting with a latch that probably should be replaced, Elliott opened one cabinet and stored his empty thermos, and retrieved a second one. He cracked it open, and smiled in relief at escaping steam. He always brought multiple. 

"Pip passed on that Boop said to be ready for a fight. In a confined area." Caush sounded miffed. "As if I hadn't already considered that possibility. What do they think I am? Some kind of Battle Frame?" 

"I'm sure it wasn't meant that way." Elliott opened another cabinet, this one was in much better shape. He started pulling out ammo packs, holding each one up for Caush to store in a flurry of sparks. "Now. What do you think we should take?"

Caush's solitary eye was a flurry of color as he ran calculations again. Potential threats, the target's location, all known data was sifted through till he was satisfied with the outcome. 

"Take that absurd auto rifle of yours. The spread will be useful in close quarters. That new scout we found might come in handy, If we need the range. And, of course, the machine gun."

"Sounds good to me."

Elliott pulled the suggested gear from various cabinets, giving Caush the machine gun to hold on to. The scout went across his back, the auto he'd keep at the ready. 

"Brace for landing." Caush said, and Elliott widened his stance. Not that he needed too, Caush was an impeccable pilot and there wasn't even the slightest bump as the ship was set down. 

The two disembarked just in time to see Boop summoning a black sparrow that was as sleek and silent as the Hunter's jumpship. Elliott did the same, his own being in better shape then his ship, as it was quite a bit newer. It had been gifted to him by the first Guardian he had ever met. A Titan by the name of McKay. 

Their Ghosts dematerialized and they took off In silence. Well, almost silence, as Caush gave regular updates to the both of them as they traveled. They had done countless ops together, they knew their roles. 

As they got close to the location, Boop picked up speed, and Elliott slowed, letting the distance widen between them. He watched as his friend took a hard left and vanished down a side street. Elliott did not follow. He’d approach the obvious way. Draw attention to himself, while the Hunter snuck in to cause chaos from behind. 

“Large building with blue trim. Up on the left.” Caush said, and while his voice was calm and steady, there was a slight hint of anticipation to it. “Adjusting calculations.”

“How close are your predictions so far?”

“Too soon to tell. Estimated thirty minutes of engagement remaining to make an accurate calculation. But 99.8 percent. Prior data suggested the building’s trim was green.”

Elliot laughed and shook his head, Caush loved his data. The Titan accepted the roles in their relationship. His Ghost did the thinking, he punched things.

Reaching the building Caush had pointed out, he cut the sparrow's engine and jumped off, letting it glide to a halt without him. He hit the ground running towards a gaping hole in the wall where an entrance might have once been. It looked suspiciously like something large had forced it's way in. He had to watch his footing as he went, for a series of evenly spaced potholes, like small impact craters, dotted the already heaved and cracked asphalt.

"Well, that's familiar eh?" He joked, not slowing his pace.

"Updating calculations. It was an unfortunate possibly."

"We'll handle it. Update Boop."

"Already done. Not answering me, but that's expected."

Suddenly he was through the gaping hole, sunblind in the dark interior. He ducked to the right, to put his back against a wall, auto rifle at the ready. Keeping the potholes in mind he threw his shoulder forward, forcing his Light into a glittering barricade in front of him. Elliott waited the breathless heartbeats as his eyes adjusted, listening expectantly for the sounds of wire rifles. 

But nothing came. All was silent. 

"Huh." 

"This is quite outside my calculations. I'm not detecting any lifeforms." 

"None?" 

"Nothing."

"Ok then. Let's take a look around." 

Elliott stepped forward through his barricade, auto rifle up. Still there was no movement. No sound. 

The interior of the warehouse had been modified into Eliksni style housing, a true maze of ramshackle walls and fabric. Elliott slowly worked his way through twisting halls, noting the signs of a hasty exit. Debris of all sorts strewn about the alcoves. Articles of clothing, household items, technology scraps and things he couldn't name. 

"Odd. Very much outside of expected parameters." Caush's observations were made from the safety of non material space. No way he would risk exposure in such an unknown situation. "Signs of quick vacation. Estimated time, three days ago."

Eventually Elliott came to a large open area that was roughly in the center of the building. Here the concrete floor gave way to wood and salvaged carpets, and a good chunk of the ceiling was gone, letting light in and illuminating the area. A central square? Gathering place?

Curious he stepped into the space, eyes sweeping left and right, looking for trouble. It was quiet.

Suddenly, something small pinged off his helmet. His auto rifle came up instinctively, looking for the source. A thumbnail sized pebble rolled to a stop in front of him. 

Scanning the environment again quickly, something caught his eye. Up. A silhouette was outlined against the sky waving hands in an almost frantic chopping motion. Boop.

“Caush?” He started, but he didn't need his Ghost to tell him this had most likely been a trap. Boop wouldn't have let him walk blind into something unless… suddenly he remembered the radio silence.

The darkness to his left shifted. Then his right. Far to many sets of sickly yellow-green eyes started appearing all around him as the forms lumbered forward from the dark. Elliott glanced back the way he came and saw more. Totally surrounded. A slightly manic grin came to his face. Of all the enemies of humanity, Hive was his favorite to fight. Why they were here and not Eliksni, he didn’t know or care.

Caush started rambling away inside his head, listing positions and numbers, possible cover locations and anything else he thought might benefit the Titan. Elliott leveled his auto rifle at the largest group, and pulled the trigger.

PAFF.PAFF.PAFF. The auto rifle chuffed, kicking back violently in Elliott's hands. PAFF.PAFF.PAFF. With each firing four barrels went off in unison, creating an unavoidable hail of death not unlike a shotgun scatter, but with the reach and predictability of an auto rifle. 

In the heartbeats between trigger pulls, he was dimly aware of the crack of Boop's sniper.  

Hive Thralls fell in droves from bullets and Elliott's Arc covered fist. Knights slowed their charge to a standstill at his onslaught. But when an Ogre lumbered out of the shadows it was Elliott who gave ground. He did so willingly, needing the space. If he didn't thin the masses soon he would be overwhelmed. Out in the center of the open area his mind touched Caush's. No words were exchanged, just impressions. They were ready. 

Elliott jumped, utilizing Light to gain extra height. His body exploded in a fury of Arc energy. Fists together, eyes blazing, he plummeted towards the Ogre, alight in a maelstrom of lightning. 

One good slam should clear out enough to turn the tide. 

Boop screamed his name, voice filled with panic.

As Elliott hit the ground and broke through the false wood floor he understood why. 

It had been a trap after all.

[kenikitty]

'Oumuamua

A pair of young assistant engineers tore down the expanded-metal catwalks deep in the heart of the Yuri Gagarin. Exodus Red, their home and matron for the long, dark journey into the desolate void of space, warped and shuddered with the spacetime around it. Crew numbers seven-two-five and three-one-three, Robin Tyne and their best friend Basil Fyr, screamed in agony and fear as their nervous systems were rent by pulses of energy from the anomaly off the starboard bow.

“Where to?” asked Robin urgently.

“No idea. Haven’t been this far outside my maintenance station. Look for a map.” Basil looked as if a weight slipped off his shoulders.

Robin felt the same way after a few more minutes of running aftward, as the all-encompassing pain came to a lull. Out of breath, the two decided to stop once they’d reached this unfamiliar territory, as their position manager hadn’t let them this far out of their stations before.

Nodding sharply, Robin pulled an airlock ajar and slipped through the thin door into what seemed to be Radhika Adhikary’s quarters, judging by the sign above the door that read “First Officer”. They’d only seen the lady a few times, but the grandeur of the space seemed fitting for a person of such importance. The shriek of a what Robin assumed to be a terrified colonist, probably fresh from cryostasis, resonated through the structural girders of the ship. They heard a wet smack followed by the staccato crunch of bone against bone, followed by the lights in the room automatically turning on.

“Whoa. Talk about shiny,” quipped Basil, managing to crack a smile despite the situation. Robin hadn’t even noticed him entering the room.

“Yeah, whatever Baze, listen, just- just don’t look at the wall to the left of us. I think I found Adhikary, and it’s… kinda messy,” they stammered.

“That wasn’t a colonist.”

“Nope. I don’t even want to know how she ended up on the wall.”

“Look at all these things from Earth, Robin! Looks like I wasn’t the only one who had a keepsake or two from the lives we left behind!” exclaimed Basil, clutching at the pouch around his neck.

“Didn’t General Lanshu tell us no personal effects were allowed for crew?” asked Robin quizzically.

“Where do you think Adhikary got her personal museum?” replied Basil, as he started to rummage through a filing cabinet with newfound intent.

“What the hell are you doing?! Aren’t we trying to, y’know, run?”

“She took something of mine before we boarded, I want it back.”

A moment later, he held aloft a small leather-bound journal, a glowing datapad, and what seemed to be a coin carved of verdant synthetic jade. “Let’s get outta here.”

“You find the map, Baze?” asked Robin as the two hurried along the catwalks aftward.

“Yeah, here—”

Robin instinctively grabbed a strut and held on for dear life as the gravity switched. Aft became up, and fore became down, as their best friend was jerked downward by an unseen force. A shrill scream, then everything went back to normal. The two fell onto the catwalk- just as quickly, the gravity reverted to its original orientation.

Basil hadn’t been so lucky.

“Landing shuttle, sixty meters, portside!” screamed Fyr. A look back confirmed his fears; his left leg was twisted at a nauseating angle. Blood seeped from under his jumpsuit as the rest of the seed ship seemed to twist in and out of reality. “Get out of here, go!”

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m leaving your ass to be torn into little Basil-bits on this fucking ship!” Robin replied angrily, extending a hand for him to grasp and attempting to wrench him from the invisible grasp of the force that held him in place.

The poor boy’s leg stretched past a point they could not see, and the long corridor of the Ship that Dared to Dream stretched even more toward infinity. Surely, Robin thought, this was just their brain playing tricks, trying to comprehend something that could not be. Shaking their head, Robin tore their eyes away from the illusory infinite, lest they be compelled to gaze more into its abyss. Looking down to their hands, still seemingly clasped around Basil’s, nothing was left. In his place was the leather pouch, the journal, and that verdant coin. He’d let go.

Robin solemnly turned away from their friend, hoping his end quick and painless.

They tucked the memories into the hardcase bag on their hip and soldiered on toward the external airlock.

Once they reached the door to the escape shuttle, they allowed themself a brief respite to cope with their loss, a few silent sobs racking their body as grief began to pool painfully in their chest, like the painful, tingling warmth returning to a frostnipped hand.

They opened the airlock's external hatch without so much as donning a pressure suit. The shuttle was nowhere to be found.

Flung out of the door with the remainder of the ship’s atmosphere, the autotether on the back of their jumpsuit engaged, firing a tiny harpoon into the Gagarin’s hull. They hit the end of the tether with a jolt, their tears vaporizing as they grasped at their throat, desperate for air.

Everything went black. No, blacker than black- as if everything melted away leaving nothing but a husk of its former self. The shuttle was already gone, and Robin had exposed themself directly to the anomaly. As their final breath was sucked out of their lungs by the unfeeling vacuum, and their blood began to boil, Robin wondered if they’d see Basil again.

At that moment, Robin left their physical form, and felt unknown hands shaping them into something else. Something not-quite-Light but not-quite-Dark. Something born of the collision between the two energies that caused the anomaly.

So, this is death, Robin thought.

Opening their eyes, they realized that they were still tethered to the exterior of the Gagarin. There was no oxygen for thousands of miles, and no pressure either. They quickly blacked out and died for the second time, but not before the glint of a viewport caught their eye.

They didn’t recognize their reflection.

--------------------------------------------

A Ghost chirped quietly to itself as it meandered across the gap between Mars and the sparse, sprawling expanse of the asteroid belt. A tattered husk of an old colony ship. She knew her motive- find “The One”. Bravery, sacrifice, death, whatever. She didn’t buy it. Her mother may have been the Traveler, but all she cared about was finding someone to talk to. It was so lonely out here in the deep black, and the Light can only reach so far… She felt the Deep leaching into her core, and it felt oddly calming.

“Let’s seeee… All forty thousand of the original colonists, all dead as doornails in their stasis pods? How exciting!~”

She began her arduous task of sifting through the dead, just like she’d done with- how many other colony ships was it now? Thirteen? Yeah, that seemed about right. At least this one made it off the ground instead of rusting away in that reeking Fallen nest they called a Cosmodrome.

Look where it got them.

“Might as well poke around and see what happened to this hunk of junk.”

She read through all the ship’s logs over the course of twenty-three years. Yawn. Still nobody interesting to chat with. Last time she tried to talk to an Eliksni, it nearly ate her! Stupid pirate-bugs with their stupid teeth and their stupid guns and their stupid ships…

Traveler’s lucky she has entire civilizations willing to kill each other for her… Wish I had civilizations willing to kill each o-

Could it be?

Someone to talk to, after all these years?

A true worthy conversationalist, willing to discuss the natures of the cosmos with none other than me?

I sure hope my Risen likes to talk!

She felt a growing Light in her core- almost radiant, in fact. It kinda hurt.

“Ow. Ow, ow ow! Fuck, OW! WHY DOES IT HURT WHAT OW FUCK SHIT BY THE FUCKING TRAVELER THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO HURT”

Startled awake and sucking in a few ragged breaths of air, an Awoken was roused from the peaceful slumber of death by the chirp of a flitting drone. They felt the urge to swat at it. Reaching up to feel their face, their gloved fingers bumped into a silvered glass visor. Something was around their neck, but they couldn’t tell what it was- they looked up and it blocked their vision. Panicking, the undead spacefarer writhed and squirmed with the tattered fabric until they managed to wrench their cloak free of their neck, casting it into the silent abyss of space.

“Uh.” Is all they managed to say before they tried to take off their helmet.

“Wait! You’ll- “

The little drone, bless its mechanical heart, tried to stop them, but it was too late. They had already died their first death.

[that-other-him]

[Deep Dive] (Destiny Warlords AU)

Winter ghosted down the corridor, artificial muscles running silently and breathing protocols suspended. Under her own power she was pretty sure she’d be in trouble already, but when she’d mentioned to Charlemagne what she was intending to do, a new data package was the immediate response. She could only guess the Warminds were capable of isolating things like this direct from the minds of Exos like her; whoever’s skill she was borrowing was slightly taller, based on how she’d stubbed a toe already as she misjudged her stride for the third time, but it was still leagues ahead of her own capabilities.

She’d made her way out of her own quarters in the border tower and down two floors to where the lance troops had set up their barracks. She avoided the cameras, because their tech specialist Breaker-1 had snuck into her network the day they arrived. Based on the schedule she’d nabbed from the techie’s own PC using the same path, it was Ashford’s turn on watch, and he was both unaugmented and adverse to changing his rounds unexpectedly. She may not have been able to see his watchpost, but she could see the cigarette smoke spiralling up from it. Perfect.

The soldiers had been... bearable, mostly. The two hollows made her skin crawl and Mercy-9 had made it her hobby to torment Winter in whatever way she could. Most of it she could block with the click of a button; but Winter still had no idea how the Lance soldier had gotten into her hab last month. Waking up with those red eyes watching her, the soldier’s pistol already in hand... the stuff of nightmares, literally.

But believe it or not, the soldiers were not why she was slipping unseen into the barracks in the middle of the night. At least, not these soldiers. Over the last week, Lance troops had begun mobilising en masse, with no warning or notice sent to the last city. Nothing against the truce... yet. But it could only mean trouble, and the normal methods at stealing information from Ra’s network had turned up naught. If Ra was planning something, a surprise would cost innocent lives, without question.

Which had led Winter to the latest of her bad ideas. Working with the city and the Lance over the course of this season, she’d been experimenting and improving her immersive hacking week by week, literally riding inside the heads of the fireteam to best assist. The splicing tech Niv-Mizex had donated to her had improved the process even further, although the requisitioned dose of SIVA she’d needed to bond the Eliksni tech to her own system still crawled across her neck and spine, the sensation fundamentally different and yet uncomfortably similar to being connected to Rexie before the Lance had taken her.

Still, Winter was letting herself get distracted in the worst place possible. She pulled her thoughts back to the present, opening the last door and slipping inside the barracks.

She wasn’t expecting the red eyes staring at her from the darkness again.

For a moment her heart was pounding, her body preparing to turn and flee and hope she made it to safer ground... but it took her brain a moment to catch up with her eyes and realise that the eyes weren’t fixed on her. They weren’t even moving.

Six soldiers, six bunks (which already seemed a little off to Winter even if having a separate dorm for the single woman on the squad would be called inefficient) but Shiver-19 was instead sitting on a plain wooden chair at the end of the room, clothed, eyes open and ready for orders save for the fact he was still, apparently, asleep. Winter crept forward, ready for some kind of trick, but nothing happened. That gave Winter a shiver of her own; calling them Hollow or drained was one thing, but it was unnerving seeing just how little human habits and affectations seemed to remain.

A quick check confirmed the other soldiers were present and asleep, save for Ashford, who a subroutine told her was still on post, and on his third cigarette. She’d planned on using Alaska-23 for this just because he scared her slightly more than Shiver, but the difference in position made the latter Exo an actually better choice for this operation. She passed her network interface over his head, identifying the sleeping subroutines and closing the exit clauses, keeping him asleep until she was finished.

It felt beyond bizarre, interacting with the threads inside another Exo’s head. It wasn’t just invasive, it was something she’d have called impossible until Niv-Mizex and his apprentices had taught her how. Vex principles, somehow uniquely compatible with Exo cognitive constructs. Surface level, comparatively; the sleep protocol was right there for the taking and the thread she’d plucked didn’t actually interact with any part of the individual’s mind.

Certainly not in the way she was about to.

A crawling down her spine and this time she couldn’t say if it was the nanites or not. Invasive? Certainly. Inciting reprisal? Only if she got caught. A violation of the truce?

Well, that depended on what she found.

Pulling in a manual breath to steady her nerves, Winter pressed the palm of her splicing interface to the other Exo’s own network interface, and dropped her consciousness inside the sleeping Exo’s unconscious mind.

~

It felt a lot like dreaming, and a little too much like dying. In a more real sense, it was like falling through water, surroundings rising up around her at a sedate pace until the ground seemed to reach up to her feet from below. What she saw seemed to twist and writhe on the corners of her vision, her mind struggling to process the information it was being fed.

She was in a cavernous, unending space populated by floating blocks, all in shades of grey. She checked her hands in case it was a visual processing issue, but she still had colour; colour just had no native place inside Shiver’s mind. There was a rough path ahead of her, one of several spider-like arms reaching out from the densest swarm of the blocks, where a spire of light stretched up before fading away. Well, at least she had a clear target.

The going was slow, the air like syrup and Winter not willing to take any risks. She didn’t have the light to bring her back if something happened to her, and while the effects of having your consciousness decompiled while inside someone else’s head weren’t exactly documented, her mind fed her plentiful images of the possibilities. So she took short hops, judging the safest route, and inching her way inwards. This was taking place within fractions of seconds back in the real world after all, and the only threat in here was her own misplaced footwork.

At least, that had been her assumption. Then a block the size of a single story house slammed down like a meteor and obliterated the space she’d been preparing to leap to.

Winter fell back, scrambling on her hands to get some space. That shouldn’t have been possible.

Y O U S H O U L D N O T B E H E R E

Winter clutched her head against the icepick that felt like it had just been thrust into it. All the research had said it was impossible for Shiver to be able to interact with her here! This was supposed to be raw data and protocols. An exo didn’t have enough processing power to have manifest protectors in this space, their antivirus defences were completely circumnavigated by the splicing process, and the idea of a conscious mind, even a dreaming one, detecting outside changes to its code was ridiculous. It would imply a mind completely free of dreams, of creativity, of anything resembling a soul.

G E T O U T O F M Y H E A D

A spar of the platform the size of a nightstick vibrated, then broke off and rocketed past Winter’s head with enough force to embed itself in concrete.

She wondered with a sinking feeling how long it had been since the man who had been Shiver-0 had ceased to exist, and if anyone had even noticed.

No distractions. Winter pushed forward, sacrificing caution for speed. Shiver didn’t seem able to sense her exact location, or affect her directly, which was the only reason she was still alive. Instead it was a game of mousetrap, the other exo moving and removing the blocks in hopes of catching her before she could scurry back out of reach. She was also beginning to worry that she didn’t have as much time as she’d thought: Was it getting darker in here, or was the pressure just getting to her?

Y O U C A N N O T H I D E F O R E V E R

Winter scrambled over a block which had tried to take her out at the knees and realised with relief that she had made it. A wide space like a snowflake with swarms of motes of light representing the data repositories. She didn’t have time to go rooting around, and the ground beneath her was already making disturbing cracking sounds, so she didn’t waste any time. Pushing forward, she reached into the central data nexus, bridging it with her interface and pulling herself to safety just as the ground curled in around her like an immense, grasping claw.

~

It took a moment to adjust to having a body again, the mere act of taking a breath immensely reassuring. She checked her surroundings, just in case, but nothing had changed (Besides the cigarette smoke having petered out). The splicing interface had begun to glow softly, the massive extra data load forcing its internal systems to push themselves to keep the stolen data intact, but as long as she moved quickly that shouldn’t be a problem.

Shiver was his own problem. She couldn’t assume he wouldn’t know what had happened but if she killed him, it would mean a whole heap of trouble. A compromise then- She took the simple loop she’d made to keep him sleeping and sealed it shut, an eternal loop with no exit condition. A Splicer or a warmind would be able to break it fairly easily, but the Lance had neither. Let the other soldiers wonder, but Breaker-1 wouldn’t have a chance of pinning it on her.

The trip back to her hab was tense, but as silent as the grave. She wasted no time, opening a call to the warmind as soon as the upload had started, pacing back and forth in the tiny space, skipping over the details of the explanation, until a blinking light in her view stopped her in her tracks.

The Spear’s drained representative, Emissary-13, wanted to talk.