Destiny, Episode IV: A Fireteam Rises
Previous Episode: Episode III, A Titan Rises
Next Episode: Episode V, Restoration
The Tower, the Last City, Earth
Day 007
Amanda Holliday looked up from her tablet to glance at the Warlock standing patiently before her, hands flat against his sides. The first time she had seen the man, he had been flying the Arcadia that had lost engine two during its final landing approach. To Koga's credit, he had managed to land the thing safely, but it was far from the prettiest Holliday had ever seen, and it certainly wasn't the cleanest. It had taken the better part of a day for the Frames to finish cleaning up the debris.
Koga was an interesting looking man, to be sure, with somewhat longer greying hair. It made him look like some kind of sage-and as far as Holliday knew, he might well have been, once upon a time. By comparison, Holliday was far more rough-and-tumble. Her blonde hair was darkened in black patches by oil and grease, as was pretty much every corner of her body. Holliday had a sleeve tattoo running down her right arm, a momento from her time on the frontier. She preferred it to her other keep-sake, the cybernetic prosthetic below her right leg.
"Morning, Guardian." She said, smiling at the Warlock. "What can I do you for?"
"I was hoping for an update on my ship." Koga asked. He glanced over at the hangar deck below. "I am sorry about my arrival. I cannot say I'm much of a pilot. Holliday laughed before hopping off of the crate she had been sitting on. Despite how loud things were, the Warlock could hear the clink of her prosthetic smacking the metal floor.
"C'mere, let me show ya!" She beckoned Koga over, tapping on the tablet as a top-down diagram of Koga's ship appeared. Most of the image was colored green, but there was a deep red splotch near the rear of the craft that couldn't be ignored. As soon as he got close, Holliday began pointing with her pinky at each green spot. "We dealt with all of the hull plating damage from your, uh, 'landing'." She gave the Warlock a dirty look for a second before continuing. "We also fixed the issues with the flight systems, so you shouldn't deal with any more random burn-outs." Koga nodded, following along as best as he could.
"Is the red something not repaired yet?" He asked, frowning.
"Uh, in a manner of speaking." Holliday replied. "That's where your NLS drive is supposed to be. Basically, it's a warp drive, and without it you'd be going nowhere fast. I'd replace it with one we have in stock, but they're meant for Tower designs, not these old Golden Age craft." She took a step away from the Warlock, and slung her tablet underneath her arm. "Unless you can get me one, I'm afraid there's not much I can do. Sorry, Guardian."
"No need to apologize." Koga said, nodding appreciatively. "Thank you for your time." With that, he gave a little bow, turned, and walked away. As he rounded the corner and started heading for the elevators, Kita fizzled into existence in a flash. The Ghost floated along with him as he walked down the hallway.
"What now?" He asked. Koga shrugged.
"Back to the room, I suppose." The Warlock answered. "There is more to read still." Since he had gotten to the Tower, Koga had been given a steady stream of reading material from a woman named Ikora Rey. A tall, imposing woman, Ikora was the representative of the Warlocks on the Vanguard, and took especial care of her initiates so that they'd be able to comprehend the strange path they were to walk. The problem was that most of these records were incomplete, but that wasn't too surprising given how total the Collapse was. What he was left with was mainly recent history, and even that had gaps occasionally. Still, it was enough to get one's footing. "What will you do?"
"I dunno." Kita admitted, before floating ahead of him to the elevator door. "Play Solitare?"
+ + + + + + +
Lisset was on her fifth lap around the track when Dal flew over to her, keeping level with her as she ran. Ever since she had arrived at the Tower, the ex-Corsair had done her best to try to revive the routine that she had kept what felt like only days ago. Calisthenics, breakfast, shooting practice, shower, in that order. It wasn't hard to get back into the swing of things, but there had been some things to get used to. For starters, Earth's gravity was a lot heavier than the artificial one any Reef outpost, making her feel sluggish with every movement. The atmosphere wasn't simulated, either, meaning that it had a fresh taste and smell to it, something that could change at the drop of a hat, far different from the stale standard of her home. Most importantly, however, was the color of the sky. In the Reef, the debris and gasses made the entire world a deep shade of purple, majestic and mysterious. At the Tower, however, everything was so blue, free and beautiful. To see the Sun so clearly in the morning was something that always stopped her heart, if only for a moment.
"Another message from Cayde." Her Ghost intoned. "That's the third since you've arrived."
"I don't want to answer it." Lisset replied, in-between pants as she kept jogging.
"And that's the third time you've ignored it." Dal sighed. "You know he'll keep doing this until you give in, right?"
"I know." Lisset said, slowing to a stop as she crossed her sixth lap. "He'll be waiting a very long time then." Cayde-6 was the Hunter representative on the Vanguard, and the man was just a touch insufferable. He had been one of the best, before he had been given the command role, and the Exo had resented it ever since. He was more than a little of a braggart and a scoundrel, and while he had his charm, he was also too quick with a joke for her liking. They had met, once, when she had arrived at the Tower. The man had gotten her new equipment and referred Lisset to the Shipwright for some basic maintenance on her Galliot, but apart from that he had treated her like some kind of rookie.
She glanced at her Ghost, which hovered disappointedly next to her. "What?" She pressed, irritated.
"You know you can't avoid him forever." Dal chided. "Like it or not, you're a Guardian now. You are needed, and Cayde is the man to talk to to start using them." He paused, his single eye staring at her intensely. "Unless you enjoy being cooped up in the Tower forever." Lisset frowned, and tried to come up with some smarmy response. Nothing came to mind: Dal, as much as she didn't want to admit it, was right. She was getting tired of being up here, doing her routine and then sitting on her hands for hours. The people of the City weren't her people, and the Tower wasn't her home, but she couldn't ignore the itch to go out and explore anymore, to make use of the strange powers she felt flowing through her.
Sighing defeated, Lisset looked down at the floor. "Alright, alright, fine." She said, looking back up and crossing her arms. "Let Cayde know I'll meet with him today-after I finish my routine." Dal made a beep as he did his thing, sending almost instantly a message to the Vanguard.
"I'll let him know." Dal replied, his tone subtly pleased. "If it's any consolation, he treats all new Hunters this way."
= = = = = = =
Basilisk-15 swung his Psi Umbra pulse rifle from the target he had finished engaging, and let his sights rest on the hologram of a Vandal. With a squeeze of the trigger, the weapon bucked, three rounds exiting the barrel like a triple-crack of lightning. The Vandal target faded away as the bullets impacted, and with it the dark firing range was lit up a peaceful green. A buzzer resounded in the Titan's ears, and he lowered his weapon, pulling out the spent magazine and letting it be dematerialized by Boudica as it fell.
"How'd I do?" Basilisk asked, slapping his weapon to the back of his armor. The magnetic lock system clicked quietly as it automatically activated, the weapon now stuck until he needed it.
"Thirteen of fifteen targets engaged successfully." Boudica answered, impressed. "Of that thirteen, nine were headshots. You're getting better." The Exo shook his head as he stepped away from the firing line.
"Nah, I'm just getting back to where I was." He said. "Centuries of being dead doesn't do any favors to your shooting."
"Regardless," she replied, "you've made steps in the right direction." It wasn't as if Basilisk had much better to do every day than go on the range. He had arrived only two days prior, newly Risen, to the Tower, and since then he had been trying to relearn so many skills. He was green all over again, and he hated it. He couldn't afford to be some fresh, unlearned warrior. No one could. "Get some rest: you have a meeting with Commander Zavala in an hour, remember." The Titan made the Exo equivalent of a frown, shaking his head. Zavala was the Titan representative on the Vanguard, and he effectively organized all Guardian combat operations. The man had a stare that could cut through walls, and when Basilisk had met him that first night in the Tower, the glance he had gotten had cut deeper than any bullet.
It had been a simple glance, but it said everything. It was a look of uncertainty, of a lack of trust. To Zavala, Basilisk was a wild card, someone who couldn't be trusted yet, who had to be tested. It was the look that haunted his waking thoughts as the Exo worked himself ragged. This second time he would meet the Commander, he had no intention of leaving the conversation without the Awoken man thinking of Basilisk as anything other than a soldier.
To a degree, Basilisk wasn't sure why he the war was driving him so. Yes, he was a Guardian now, and yes, there was an entire species at stake-or three, depending on how you divided the Awoken and Exos from the Humans-that needed good men and women on the front lines. But there was something else pressing on him, something that said that he needed to fight again. Perhaps he had made an oath once, before he had died on Venus. Perhaps he couldn't stand the idea of seeing his home gone.
"I'll be fine, Boudica." The Exo dismissed her suggestion with a wave of the hand. "I don't need to rest."
"That wasn't a request." Boudica replied, sternly. "Don't think I don't know an obsession forming when I see one. If you want to get out there, you can't do it exhausted." Exhausted wasn't quite the right word, but it got the point across. Exo bodies were extremely powerful and precise, but they couldn't recharge by eating or by sleeping as a biological could. Instead, they had to shut down and recharge, a process suspiciously similar to sleeping if one ignored that the Exo was never completely unconscious, and going on for too long without it would cause things to slowly grind to a halt.
Basilisk let out a terse "breath", and let his stubbornness flow away. Flesh or metal, some things couldn't be trained out of a mind. When he opened his eyes, he spoke as calmly as an ancient war machine could. "Understood." He muttered, before heading out the door.
- - - - - - -
Apartments in the Tower were a somewhat complicated business. The Tower was old, though exactly how old seemed to change according to who you asked. Still, whenever it had been built, it had been designed during a time when people favored the spartan style. There were two types of rooms available for the Guardians to use, and they were partitioned out carefully. The larger rooms, with multiple bedrooms and large living spaces, were reserved for organized, permanent Fireteams, while the smaller ones were left for individual Guardians. Aside from the logistics of it, the room assignments was a subtle encouragement by the Vanguard.
Koga's room was archetypical for the smaller design, and that design fit more the mark of a broom closet than it did a "room". The architects had clearly taken into account the needs of a Guardian when designing it. There was a bathroom, for personal hygiene and appearance's sake partitioned off by a curtain, a bed, and a coffee table. There was no kitchen, as there was a cafeteria on the level that any Guardian could access, and there was no real living space, as a Guardian was expected to socialize on the Tower deck or be out on the frontier. There wasn't a dresser, either, as a Ghost could carry all the clothes and armor a man could need. It wasn't pretty, and it certainly wasn't spacious, but it was home, more or less. It would have felt like a prison cell if it wasn't for the room's one redeeming factor: a window facing out to the heart of the City, and the Traveler hanging silently above. Koga would be lying if he said that the view wasn't anything less than breathtaking.
As Koga walked into the room, the door opening automatically as it detected him, his armor disappeared in a flash of blue light, replaced automatically by a sleeved shirt and pants. It was civilian wear, simple and plain, but the Warlock had felt drawn to its lack of complexity. In it, he felt almost normal, like it was the Golden Age and he was just another man again. Kita hovering silently by the window shattered that illusion. "So, what do you want to do?" The Ghost asked.
The Warlock plopped onto his bed, which creaked disconcertingly as he landed on it. "I think I will continue where I left off in the book I was reading." He replied as he made himself comfortable. "The author was explaining how to channel Void Light into a ball or orb via concentration." As he leaned back, a book labelled Inanus in Lumine materialized in his hands. The thing was very old, perhaps written centuries ago, and it had been dogeared a thousand times over by equally as many new Warlocks in the same position as Koga.
Reading seemed to draw Koga into another world, and he barely noticed the time fly by until Kita made a loud beep and started talking, seemingly to himself. "Yes, this is Koga's Ghost." He said, suddenly. Koga looked up from his book, surprised, as the Ghost continued. "No, we're not busy." A pause. Koga put the book down on his bed and got up, his bare feet clapping against the metal floor.
"What is going on, Kita?" Koga asked, confused.
The Ghost spun to face him and whispered "it's Commander Zavala!" Without a beat, he returned to the conversation, saying "yes, we'll be there shortly." With that, the Ghost beeped again, and then in a flash Koga's clothes were replaced with simple blue Code Fire robes, a simple armlet known as a "Bond" resting just below his left shoulder. The armor wasn't as heavy as a Titan's or a Hunter's, but it was flowing and flexible, relying on the Light of it's wearer to protect rather than actual plating. It suited Koga just fine, but at the moment all he was suited for was some answers.
"Zavala?" He repeated, surprised.
"Yes, and he wants to meet with us, ASAP." Kita replied, before vanishing inside the robes. With things properly out of his control, all Koga could do was walk out the door, leaving his room, and his book, behind.
+ + + + + + +
Lisset walked down the stairs into the Hall of Guardians, a long corridor that led to a circular meeting hall adorned with trophies from battles long past. The Hall proper was the territory of one Lord Shaxx, a surly Titan who refused to take off his helmet, even inside the Tower. The man ran the Crucible, which held live-fire training exercises every hour on the hour, and seemed to fill the room with his towering presence. Across from him was his Frame, Arcite 99-40, who had a tendency to belittle anyone who walked in front of him in a jumpy, synthetic voice. The two of them watched quietly as the Hunter walked, sizing her up as she went.
Another row of stairs led her into the Vanguard section, and straight into the line of sight of Cayde-6. The Exo wore what looked like a leather jacket underneath his long black cloak, patches dotting the frayed fabric. The Exo himself had a strange "horn" poking up from the center of his forehead, and it made the hood of his cloak rise up to make room for it. His "skin" was colored oddly, a light blue to match his eyes, with a grey skull-plate. By contrast, Lisset was far simpler in appearance, with dark blue hair (a natural color-perks of being an Awoken) and gold eyes. She had a series of white dot tattoos across her forehead, something she had gotten when she had joined the Corsairs to commemorate her accomplishment. Her armor was far less roguish, a simple brown-colored Tracker pattern and a white scarf about her neck that Dal had picked up somewhere. Regardless, Lisset felt more like the professional than her "mentor", though she had to admit she was a bit biased.
Next Episode: Episode V, Restoration
The Tower, the Last City, Earth
Day 007
Amanda Holliday looked up from her tablet to glance at the Warlock standing patiently before her, hands flat against his sides. The first time she had seen the man, he had been flying the Arcadia that had lost engine two during its final landing approach. To Koga's credit, he had managed to land the thing safely, but it was far from the prettiest Holliday had ever seen, and it certainly wasn't the cleanest. It had taken the better part of a day for the Frames to finish cleaning up the debris.
Koga was an interesting looking man, to be sure, with somewhat longer greying hair. It made him look like some kind of sage-and as far as Holliday knew, he might well have been, once upon a time. By comparison, Holliday was far more rough-and-tumble. Her blonde hair was darkened in black patches by oil and grease, as was pretty much every corner of her body. Holliday had a sleeve tattoo running down her right arm, a momento from her time on the frontier. She preferred it to her other keep-sake, the cybernetic prosthetic below her right leg.
"Morning, Guardian." She said, smiling at the Warlock. "What can I do you for?"
"I was hoping for an update on my ship." Koga asked. He glanced over at the hangar deck below. "I am sorry about my arrival. I cannot say I'm much of a pilot. Holliday laughed before hopping off of the crate she had been sitting on. Despite how loud things were, the Warlock could hear the clink of her prosthetic smacking the metal floor.
"C'mere, let me show ya!" She beckoned Koga over, tapping on the tablet as a top-down diagram of Koga's ship appeared. Most of the image was colored green, but there was a deep red splotch near the rear of the craft that couldn't be ignored. As soon as he got close, Holliday began pointing with her pinky at each green spot. "We dealt with all of the hull plating damage from your, uh, 'landing'." She gave the Warlock a dirty look for a second before continuing. "We also fixed the issues with the flight systems, so you shouldn't deal with any more random burn-outs." Koga nodded, following along as best as he could.
"Is the red something not repaired yet?" He asked, frowning.
"Uh, in a manner of speaking." Holliday replied. "That's where your NLS drive is supposed to be. Basically, it's a warp drive, and without it you'd be going nowhere fast. I'd replace it with one we have in stock, but they're meant for Tower designs, not these old Golden Age craft." She took a step away from the Warlock, and slung her tablet underneath her arm. "Unless you can get me one, I'm afraid there's not much I can do. Sorry, Guardian."
"No need to apologize." Koga said, nodding appreciatively. "Thank you for your time." With that, he gave a little bow, turned, and walked away. As he rounded the corner and started heading for the elevators, Kita fizzled into existence in a flash. The Ghost floated along with him as he walked down the hallway.
"What now?" He asked. Koga shrugged.
"Back to the room, I suppose." The Warlock answered. "There is more to read still." Since he had gotten to the Tower, Koga had been given a steady stream of reading material from a woman named Ikora Rey. A tall, imposing woman, Ikora was the representative of the Warlocks on the Vanguard, and took especial care of her initiates so that they'd be able to comprehend the strange path they were to walk. The problem was that most of these records were incomplete, but that wasn't too surprising given how total the Collapse was. What he was left with was mainly recent history, and even that had gaps occasionally. Still, it was enough to get one's footing. "What will you do?"
"I dunno." Kita admitted, before floating ahead of him to the elevator door. "Play Solitare?"
+ + + + + + +
Lisset was on her fifth lap around the track when Dal flew over to her, keeping level with her as she ran. Ever since she had arrived at the Tower, the ex-Corsair had done her best to try to revive the routine that she had kept what felt like only days ago. Calisthenics, breakfast, shooting practice, shower, in that order. It wasn't hard to get back into the swing of things, but there had been some things to get used to. For starters, Earth's gravity was a lot heavier than the artificial one any Reef outpost, making her feel sluggish with every movement. The atmosphere wasn't simulated, either, meaning that it had a fresh taste and smell to it, something that could change at the drop of a hat, far different from the stale standard of her home. Most importantly, however, was the color of the sky. In the Reef, the debris and gasses made the entire world a deep shade of purple, majestic and mysterious. At the Tower, however, everything was so blue, free and beautiful. To see the Sun so clearly in the morning was something that always stopped her heart, if only for a moment.
"Another message from Cayde." Her Ghost intoned. "That's the third since you've arrived."
"I don't want to answer it." Lisset replied, in-between pants as she kept jogging.
"And that's the third time you've ignored it." Dal sighed. "You know he'll keep doing this until you give in, right?"
"I know." Lisset said, slowing to a stop as she crossed her sixth lap. "He'll be waiting a very long time then." Cayde-6 was the Hunter representative on the Vanguard, and the man was just a touch insufferable. He had been one of the best, before he had been given the command role, and the Exo had resented it ever since. He was more than a little of a braggart and a scoundrel, and while he had his charm, he was also too quick with a joke for her liking. They had met, once, when she had arrived at the Tower. The man had gotten her new equipment and referred Lisset to the Shipwright for some basic maintenance on her Galliot, but apart from that he had treated her like some kind of rookie.
She glanced at her Ghost, which hovered disappointedly next to her. "What?" She pressed, irritated.
"You know you can't avoid him forever." Dal chided. "Like it or not, you're a Guardian now. You are needed, and Cayde is the man to talk to to start using them." He paused, his single eye staring at her intensely. "Unless you enjoy being cooped up in the Tower forever." Lisset frowned, and tried to come up with some smarmy response. Nothing came to mind: Dal, as much as she didn't want to admit it, was right. She was getting tired of being up here, doing her routine and then sitting on her hands for hours. The people of the City weren't her people, and the Tower wasn't her home, but she couldn't ignore the itch to go out and explore anymore, to make use of the strange powers she felt flowing through her.
Sighing defeated, Lisset looked down at the floor. "Alright, alright, fine." She said, looking back up and crossing her arms. "Let Cayde know I'll meet with him today-after I finish my routine." Dal made a beep as he did his thing, sending almost instantly a message to the Vanguard.
"I'll let him know." Dal replied, his tone subtly pleased. "If it's any consolation, he treats all new Hunters this way."
= = = = = = =
Basilisk-15 swung his Psi Umbra pulse rifle from the target he had finished engaging, and let his sights rest on the hologram of a Vandal. With a squeeze of the trigger, the weapon bucked, three rounds exiting the barrel like a triple-crack of lightning. The Vandal target faded away as the bullets impacted, and with it the dark firing range was lit up a peaceful green. A buzzer resounded in the Titan's ears, and he lowered his weapon, pulling out the spent magazine and letting it be dematerialized by Boudica as it fell.
"How'd I do?" Basilisk asked, slapping his weapon to the back of his armor. The magnetic lock system clicked quietly as it automatically activated, the weapon now stuck until he needed it.
"Thirteen of fifteen targets engaged successfully." Boudica answered, impressed. "Of that thirteen, nine were headshots. You're getting better." The Exo shook his head as he stepped away from the firing line.
"Nah, I'm just getting back to where I was." He said. "Centuries of being dead doesn't do any favors to your shooting."
"Regardless," she replied, "you've made steps in the right direction." It wasn't as if Basilisk had much better to do every day than go on the range. He had arrived only two days prior, newly Risen, to the Tower, and since then he had been trying to relearn so many skills. He was green all over again, and he hated it. He couldn't afford to be some fresh, unlearned warrior. No one could. "Get some rest: you have a meeting with Commander Zavala in an hour, remember." The Titan made the Exo equivalent of a frown, shaking his head. Zavala was the Titan representative on the Vanguard, and he effectively organized all Guardian combat operations. The man had a stare that could cut through walls, and when Basilisk had met him that first night in the Tower, the glance he had gotten had cut deeper than any bullet.
It had been a simple glance, but it said everything. It was a look of uncertainty, of a lack of trust. To Zavala, Basilisk was a wild card, someone who couldn't be trusted yet, who had to be tested. It was the look that haunted his waking thoughts as the Exo worked himself ragged. This second time he would meet the Commander, he had no intention of leaving the conversation without the Awoken man thinking of Basilisk as anything other than a soldier.
To a degree, Basilisk wasn't sure why he the war was driving him so. Yes, he was a Guardian now, and yes, there was an entire species at stake-or three, depending on how you divided the Awoken and Exos from the Humans-that needed good men and women on the front lines. But there was something else pressing on him, something that said that he needed to fight again. Perhaps he had made an oath once, before he had died on Venus. Perhaps he couldn't stand the idea of seeing his home gone.
"I'll be fine, Boudica." The Exo dismissed her suggestion with a wave of the hand. "I don't need to rest."
"That wasn't a request." Boudica replied, sternly. "Don't think I don't know an obsession forming when I see one. If you want to get out there, you can't do it exhausted." Exhausted wasn't quite the right word, but it got the point across. Exo bodies were extremely powerful and precise, but they couldn't recharge by eating or by sleeping as a biological could. Instead, they had to shut down and recharge, a process suspiciously similar to sleeping if one ignored that the Exo was never completely unconscious, and going on for too long without it would cause things to slowly grind to a halt.
Basilisk let out a terse "breath", and let his stubbornness flow away. Flesh or metal, some things couldn't be trained out of a mind. When he opened his eyes, he spoke as calmly as an ancient war machine could. "Understood." He muttered, before heading out the door.
- - - - - - -
Apartments in the Tower were a somewhat complicated business. The Tower was old, though exactly how old seemed to change according to who you asked. Still, whenever it had been built, it had been designed during a time when people favored the spartan style. There were two types of rooms available for the Guardians to use, and they were partitioned out carefully. The larger rooms, with multiple bedrooms and large living spaces, were reserved for organized, permanent Fireteams, while the smaller ones were left for individual Guardians. Aside from the logistics of it, the room assignments was a subtle encouragement by the Vanguard.
Koga's room was archetypical for the smaller design, and that design fit more the mark of a broom closet than it did a "room". The architects had clearly taken into account the needs of a Guardian when designing it. There was a bathroom, for personal hygiene and appearance's sake partitioned off by a curtain, a bed, and a coffee table. There was no kitchen, as there was a cafeteria on the level that any Guardian could access, and there was no real living space, as a Guardian was expected to socialize on the Tower deck or be out on the frontier. There wasn't a dresser, either, as a Ghost could carry all the clothes and armor a man could need. It wasn't pretty, and it certainly wasn't spacious, but it was home, more or less. It would have felt like a prison cell if it wasn't for the room's one redeeming factor: a window facing out to the heart of the City, and the Traveler hanging silently above. Koga would be lying if he said that the view wasn't anything less than breathtaking.
As Koga walked into the room, the door opening automatically as it detected him, his armor disappeared in a flash of blue light, replaced automatically by a sleeved shirt and pants. It was civilian wear, simple and plain, but the Warlock had felt drawn to its lack of complexity. In it, he felt almost normal, like it was the Golden Age and he was just another man again. Kita hovering silently by the window shattered that illusion. "So, what do you want to do?" The Ghost asked.
The Warlock plopped onto his bed, which creaked disconcertingly as he landed on it. "I think I will continue where I left off in the book I was reading." He replied as he made himself comfortable. "The author was explaining how to channel Void Light into a ball or orb via concentration." As he leaned back, a book labelled Inanus in Lumine materialized in his hands. The thing was very old, perhaps written centuries ago, and it had been dogeared a thousand times over by equally as many new Warlocks in the same position as Koga.
Reading seemed to draw Koga into another world, and he barely noticed the time fly by until Kita made a loud beep and started talking, seemingly to himself. "Yes, this is Koga's Ghost." He said, suddenly. Koga looked up from his book, surprised, as the Ghost continued. "No, we're not busy." A pause. Koga put the book down on his bed and got up, his bare feet clapping against the metal floor.
"What is going on, Kita?" Koga asked, confused.
The Ghost spun to face him and whispered "it's Commander Zavala!" Without a beat, he returned to the conversation, saying "yes, we'll be there shortly." With that, the Ghost beeped again, and then in a flash Koga's clothes were replaced with simple blue Code Fire robes, a simple armlet known as a "Bond" resting just below his left shoulder. The armor wasn't as heavy as a Titan's or a Hunter's, but it was flowing and flexible, relying on the Light of it's wearer to protect rather than actual plating. It suited Koga just fine, but at the moment all he was suited for was some answers.
"Zavala?" He repeated, surprised.
"Yes, and he wants to meet with us, ASAP." Kita replied, before vanishing inside the robes. With things properly out of his control, all Koga could do was walk out the door, leaving his room, and his book, behind.
+ + + + + + +
Lisset walked down the stairs into the Hall of Guardians, a long corridor that led to a circular meeting hall adorned with trophies from battles long past. The Hall proper was the territory of one Lord Shaxx, a surly Titan who refused to take off his helmet, even inside the Tower. The man ran the Crucible, which held live-fire training exercises every hour on the hour, and seemed to fill the room with his towering presence. Across from him was his Frame, Arcite 99-40, who had a tendency to belittle anyone who walked in front of him in a jumpy, synthetic voice. The two of them watched quietly as the Hunter walked, sizing her up as she went.
Another row of stairs led her into the Vanguard section, and straight into the line of sight of Cayde-6. The Exo wore what looked like a leather jacket underneath his long black cloak, patches dotting the frayed fabric. The Exo himself had a strange "horn" poking up from the center of his forehead, and it made the hood of his cloak rise up to make room for it. His "skin" was colored oddly, a light blue to match his eyes, with a grey skull-plate. By contrast, Lisset was far simpler in appearance, with dark blue hair (a natural color-perks of being an Awoken) and gold eyes. She had a series of white dot tattoos across her forehead, something she had gotten when she had joined the Corsairs to commemorate her accomplishment. Her armor was far less roguish, a simple brown-colored Tracker pattern and a white scarf about her neck that Dal had picked up somewhere. Regardless, Lisset felt more like the professional than her "mentor", though she had to admit she was a bit biased.
Cayde looked up from whatever had drawn his attention and waved her over. "Over here, Hunter!" He called loudly. Lisset cringed as all eyes in the room turned on her-he was doing this on purpose. Stiffly, she walked over to Cayde, who crossed his arms as she approached. "So, her majesty finally graces us with her presence." He started, sarcastically. "Look, I know the transition to being a Guardian is rough, but I would have thought you Reef-types would be big on being polite."
Lisset glowered at him. "You sent for me?" She asked. The sooner this conversation was over, the better.
"Yeah. Three days ago." Cayde scolded. The Exo sighed, and shook his head. "Alright, alright, I've been on your case enough for today. Here's the deal: I called for you because it's about time that you get out there." Lisset noticibly straightened, her attention caught in a single phrase. "Now, you're not the only new Guardian here. We've had two others show up this week, and Zavala wants all of you to group up. I'm more of a 'lone wolf' myself, but the guy's as stubborn as the Wall he always talks about."
Lisset glanced around; aside from the three of the Vanguard, she was the only Guardian there. "So, where are they?" Cayde shrugged.
"They oughta be here any minute now." He replied. "In the meantime, let me give you a few pointers about being in a Fireteam."
"I've done combat operations before." Lisset muttered.
"Yeah, and that's all well and good, but I'm going to guess none of those combat ops saw you forming a gun out of star-stuff and shooting some dregs with it." Cayde countered. "I get you were a Corsair, but being a Guardian is a lot different. First and foremost, death isn't always the end. Your Ghost can bring you back over 'n' over again, as long as it can tap into the Light."
Lisset paused. "Are you saying I'm immortal?" Cayde bobbed his head, mulling over the words to say.
"Yes and no. You can die, but you can be brought back." He answered. "It'll make more sense when you actually get out there, but I wouldn't make a habit of it, especially since you actually can feel pain."
Cayde's hand absentmindedly went to his head as if he had hair to scratch, but all he ended up doing was running his fingers over his metal skull. "The next thing is that you're incredibly powerful now. More than you realize. You learn to roll with it eventually, but it starts with you learning to stop thinking conventionally." He began to pantomime some actions as he spoke, turning and shifting about where he stood. "Say there's a Captain behind a big shipping container. A regular joe would try to flank around it and try to shoot, but us Guardians could, say, jump above the container and shoot down, or blow past the corner before getting him with a throwing knife."
He chuckled at that, and his hand went down to his waist, where two long and elegant-looking knives were hung. "Point is, you're a Guardian now. Once you start thinking like one, nothing short of a supernova can stop you."
= = = = = = =
There was a reason why Exos avoided going into a rest cycle whenever possible. Some said that how they were made had bent their ability to dream so that all they ever saw was nightmare. Others believed that it was the decades upon decades of tireless warfare led to their unconscious fantasies only being about killing. Others still held that it was the wiping process that swept away memory in order to prevent the Exo from simply going insane from it all, done over and over again, made it so that every nightmare was a terrifying mix of the new and the forgotten old. Basilisk thought all three were right.
He stood on a grassy knoll, a low wind at his back that made him feel cold and warm all over. It was an impossible sensation, one that he hadn't felt for a very, very long time. Against the horizon was a Tower, not like the one he had been on when he was awake, but not too different either. It stretched up like a spire, its design strange and warped by the logic of the dream. As Basilisk looked at it, the once bright skies began to darken, becoming a deep black that belied no stars or light at all. The low wind was gone, and everything sounded like growling static.
Then marched the army. They marched, hundreds strong, towards him, their footsteps synchronized to the millisecond. Some of them were human, some were Exo. Their faces ringed some bell in Basilisk's head, but he couldn't place them to anything solid. All he had was the horrible feeling that he recognized them all, from somewhere. They stood between him and the Tower, between him and his goal. A directive entered his mind, an order that came from no-one and from no-where: reach the Deep Stone Crypt. Return to your womb.
Basilisk did not remember fighting through the army. He didn't remember caving in a woman's face with his fist as he moved, her cry silenced in a sickening crunch. He didn't remember ripping off an Exo's arm and bashing it to death with it. He didn't remember picking up the weapon from the ground and firing into the horde as they came, unrelenting. All he remembered was them tearing him apart, servo by servo, wire by wire, as the Tower's shadow loomed over him.
Basilisk woke with a start, breathing fast and hard as his eyes scrambled to focus. He jerked and spasmed as if he was having a seizure, and for a moment he could swear he felt pain, somehow. Boudica rushed over to him, scanning her Guardian with a beam of blue light. "Basilisk, what's wrong?" She shouted, frenzied. After a moment, the shaking stopped, and the Titan could feel control of his body return to him.
"It's nothing." He replied, dismissing her concerns a bit too quickly to be convincing. "Sometimes you have a crossed wire when you wake up from charging."
"A crossed wire makes you hyperventilate?" She pressed, floating closer to Basilisk's face. "Tell me the truth. This isn't normal." The Exo scoffed, getting to his feet.
"Normal?" He repeated, sighing. "I don't think either of us can say what normal is. And it is nothing, Boudica. Just a bad dream."
Boudica looked for a second like she was going to ask another question, but the Ghost simply beeped and stayed quiet. She wasn't happy, but in truth there wasn't much that Basilisk could say. He had never had a dream like this before, not any that he could remember, and to try to relay to anyone what he had seen would only create more problems than it could ever solve. Basilisk gave a comforting pat to the side of Boudica's shell. "I'll be fine, Boudica, don't worry." He said. "I appreciate your concern, but right now we've got to worry about meeting with the Commander. How much time do we have?"
"Enough." The Ghost replied, her voice still somewhat tense. What had happened today would probably eat away at her for a while. All Basilisk could hope was that he didn't have it again. "Stand still, please." The Exo clacked his feet together, and raised his arms out into a "T" pose, and in a flash of blue light the simple PT gear that he had been wearing-and for the record, Basilisk wasn't sure why he needed to wear it, seeing as an Exo really didn't need to be too bothered about being seen "naked"-with the light brown Scoutmail plate being placed over him. Across his waist was a simple white sash, a gift from the Vick for everything that had happened on Venus. It was a frayed old thing, but it was the thought that counted. As for a helmet, Basilisk had decided not to put it on, meaning that everyone could see his tan-colored skull, the paint worn and weathered. The armor felt surprisingly light for the amount of armor that he was actually wearing; a testament to both his own strength, the polymers used in the suit, and whatever behind-the-scenes load-bearing tech aboard. An Exo in an Exo-suit was something that tickled Basilisk's sense of irony.
"All set?" Boudica asked, hovering in front of him. She glanced up and down at him, like a mother inspecting her son before taking him to some school dance.
"I'm all good here." Basilisk replied. He extended his hand, and she floated towards it, before vanishing into the suit with a fizzle.
"Let's not keep the Commander waiting, then." Boudica chimed, and with that the Titan opened the door and stepped out, heading for the elevators.
- - - - - - -
Koga walked down the stairs into the Hall of Guardians, and took a second to get his bearings. Ikora turned her head the instant he reached the final step, smiling in that strange way she did. Sometimes it felt like the Warlock mentor could sense him walking into the room, no matter how loud it was. Across the table from her was the Commander himself, always wearing that bulky armor of his. The Awoken man was engrossed with something, and his lips were moving as if he was muttering to himself. Between the two was Cayde, who was in the process of finishing a chat with another Hunter, an Awoken woman Koga had never seen before. The two of them glanced over at him, staring at him as if he was some kind of oddity.
Despite almost all eyes in the room being turned to him, Koga walked straight and evenly, moving around the side of the table with no one standing there. He glanced over his left shoulder to look at the two Hunters, and at the long flowing banners hanging from the ceiling behind them. Each one was representative of the three Guardian orders, ornate and looking quite old. It was only appropriate for the symbol of the Warlocks to be two triangles superimposed over each other-a complex symbol for the complex Guardian. As he walked up to Zavala, the Titan glanced up at Koga, his eyes narrowing as he examined the new arrival.
"I assume you are Koga, the Warlock?" He said, his voice slow. He seemed to carefully measure each word before saying it, drawing his speech out into a near-monotone cadence. Koga nodded, staying quiet for now. "How has your tenure in the Tower been thus far, Guardian?"
"Studious." Koga replied after a moment of thought. He had a feeling that Ikora was smiling quietly behind him, but he wasn't about to turn around and look. "I have been trying to understand this new world of ours." Zavala gave a tight smile at that.
"Yes, I can remember being newly Risen." He muttered softly. His face hardened, and as he spoke, his voice boomed and echoed across the room, a voice to match his position. "Now, Miss Holliday has informed me that your ship lacks a NLS drive, and that will not do. There is a war on, Warlock, one that demands the attention of any who can fight it." He raised a hand, pointing at every corner of the room slowly. "This Tower may be a home for study, but it is also another piece of the Wall. Should this fall, and the Guardians that call this home fail, so will the City. Do you understand?" Again, Koga nodded. "I am sending you back to the Cosmodrome. There is a strong chance that a spare drive is there."
"You're sending us alone?" Kita suddenly interrupted, appearing with a flash. Zavala turned to look at the Ghost, and gave a slight bow of the head.
"Ah, this must be your Ghost." Zavala said. "To answer your question, no, I will not be sending your keep alone. Two other new Guardians have arrived at the Tower this week, and I want you to operate alongside them as a Fireteam." The Commander paused, and glanced over at Cayde-6, who did his best to look innocent.
"Speaking of-" the veteran Hunter put his arm around the Awoken woman and quickly pushed her forward-"this would be one of them." The new Hunter glowered at Cayde, but composed herself and walked forward to stand at the opposite side of the table as Koga. She gave a low bow to each of them in turn, which Koga returned.
"Lisset, of the Queen's Corsairs." The woman said, proudly. Zavala raised an eyebrow at her, and behind her Cayde quietly groaned and put a palm to his face. "Now, of the Guardian Order of Hunters." She amended, quickly. Zavala lowered the errant eyebrow, but an air of light exasperation seemed to flit across his face-something about Lisset seemed to remind the old Titan of something, and from the sour look it hadn't been something pleasant.
"Koga, of the Guardian Order of Warlocks." Koga mimicked, smiling. "It will be a pleasure to work with you." The Hunter didn't return the smile, but she gave a quick nod of agreement.
"Our third should be arriving any moment now." The Commander noted, folding his arms behind his back. Koga cleared his throat and resigned himself for a long wait, but only a few seconds later the sound of footsteps echoed across the hall. "Titan, to me!" Zavala suddenly barked, his voice echoing loudly. Koga spun in place to stare at the new arrival, and saw a hurried-looking Exo step forward. The Titan stopped in place before Zavala, and gave a snappy salute. Zavala returned the gesture, then pointed at the Guardian with an open hand. "Guardians, meet Titan Basilisk-15, your new fireteam lead."
Koga had never seen an Exo looked shell-shocked before, but the way Basilisk's spine straightened like a rod was unmistakable. After a second, he relaxed some and regained his composure, but he still seemed stunned somewhat. If the Titan had been expecting something from meeting Zavala, it certainly had not been that. "Fireteam lead, sir?" He repeated, his voice still sounding vaguely surprised.
"I've had my Ghost monitor your actions since you arrived in the Tower." The Commander started. "Your drive is commendable, and you have the making of a leader. When I see potential, I put it to use." Zavala leaned forward just ever-so-slightly. "Don't make me regret my decision."
Then marched the army. They marched, hundreds strong, towards him, their footsteps synchronized to the millisecond. Some of them were human, some were Exo. Their faces ringed some bell in Basilisk's head, but he couldn't place them to anything solid. All he had was the horrible feeling that he recognized them all, from somewhere. They stood between him and the Tower, between him and his goal. A directive entered his mind, an order that came from no-one and from no-where: reach the Deep Stone Crypt. Return to your womb.
Basilisk did not remember fighting through the army. He didn't remember caving in a woman's face with his fist as he moved, her cry silenced in a sickening crunch. He didn't remember ripping off an Exo's arm and bashing it to death with it. He didn't remember picking up the weapon from the ground and firing into the horde as they came, unrelenting. All he remembered was them tearing him apart, servo by servo, wire by wire, as the Tower's shadow loomed over him.
Basilisk woke with a start, breathing fast and hard as his eyes scrambled to focus. He jerked and spasmed as if he was having a seizure, and for a moment he could swear he felt pain, somehow. Boudica rushed over to him, scanning her Guardian with a beam of blue light. "Basilisk, what's wrong?" She shouted, frenzied. After a moment, the shaking stopped, and the Titan could feel control of his body return to him.
"It's nothing." He replied, dismissing her concerns a bit too quickly to be convincing. "Sometimes you have a crossed wire when you wake up from charging."
"A crossed wire makes you hyperventilate?" She pressed, floating closer to Basilisk's face. "Tell me the truth. This isn't normal." The Exo scoffed, getting to his feet.
"Normal?" He repeated, sighing. "I don't think either of us can say what normal is. And it is nothing, Boudica. Just a bad dream."
Boudica looked for a second like she was going to ask another question, but the Ghost simply beeped and stayed quiet. She wasn't happy, but in truth there wasn't much that Basilisk could say. He had never had a dream like this before, not any that he could remember, and to try to relay to anyone what he had seen would only create more problems than it could ever solve. Basilisk gave a comforting pat to the side of Boudica's shell. "I'll be fine, Boudica, don't worry." He said. "I appreciate your concern, but right now we've got to worry about meeting with the Commander. How much time do we have?"
"Enough." The Ghost replied, her voice still somewhat tense. What had happened today would probably eat away at her for a while. All Basilisk could hope was that he didn't have it again. "Stand still, please." The Exo clacked his feet together, and raised his arms out into a "T" pose, and in a flash of blue light the simple PT gear that he had been wearing-and for the record, Basilisk wasn't sure why he needed to wear it, seeing as an Exo really didn't need to be too bothered about being seen "naked"-with the light brown Scoutmail plate being placed over him. Across his waist was a simple white sash, a gift from the Vick for everything that had happened on Venus. It was a frayed old thing, but it was the thought that counted. As for a helmet, Basilisk had decided not to put it on, meaning that everyone could see his tan-colored skull, the paint worn and weathered. The armor felt surprisingly light for the amount of armor that he was actually wearing; a testament to both his own strength, the polymers used in the suit, and whatever behind-the-scenes load-bearing tech aboard. An Exo in an Exo-suit was something that tickled Basilisk's sense of irony.
"All set?" Boudica asked, hovering in front of him. She glanced up and down at him, like a mother inspecting her son before taking him to some school dance.
"I'm all good here." Basilisk replied. He extended his hand, and she floated towards it, before vanishing into the suit with a fizzle.
"Let's not keep the Commander waiting, then." Boudica chimed, and with that the Titan opened the door and stepped out, heading for the elevators.
- - - - - - -
Koga walked down the stairs into the Hall of Guardians, and took a second to get his bearings. Ikora turned her head the instant he reached the final step, smiling in that strange way she did. Sometimes it felt like the Warlock mentor could sense him walking into the room, no matter how loud it was. Across the table from her was the Commander himself, always wearing that bulky armor of his. The Awoken man was engrossed with something, and his lips were moving as if he was muttering to himself. Between the two was Cayde, who was in the process of finishing a chat with another Hunter, an Awoken woman Koga had never seen before. The two of them glanced over at him, staring at him as if he was some kind of oddity.
Despite almost all eyes in the room being turned to him, Koga walked straight and evenly, moving around the side of the table with no one standing there. He glanced over his left shoulder to look at the two Hunters, and at the long flowing banners hanging from the ceiling behind them. Each one was representative of the three Guardian orders, ornate and looking quite old. It was only appropriate for the symbol of the Warlocks to be two triangles superimposed over each other-a complex symbol for the complex Guardian. As he walked up to Zavala, the Titan glanced up at Koga, his eyes narrowing as he examined the new arrival.
"I assume you are Koga, the Warlock?" He said, his voice slow. He seemed to carefully measure each word before saying it, drawing his speech out into a near-monotone cadence. Koga nodded, staying quiet for now. "How has your tenure in the Tower been thus far, Guardian?"
"Studious." Koga replied after a moment of thought. He had a feeling that Ikora was smiling quietly behind him, but he wasn't about to turn around and look. "I have been trying to understand this new world of ours." Zavala gave a tight smile at that.
"Yes, I can remember being newly Risen." He muttered softly. His face hardened, and as he spoke, his voice boomed and echoed across the room, a voice to match his position. "Now, Miss Holliday has informed me that your ship lacks a NLS drive, and that will not do. There is a war on, Warlock, one that demands the attention of any who can fight it." He raised a hand, pointing at every corner of the room slowly. "This Tower may be a home for study, but it is also another piece of the Wall. Should this fall, and the Guardians that call this home fail, so will the City. Do you understand?" Again, Koga nodded. "I am sending you back to the Cosmodrome. There is a strong chance that a spare drive is there."
"You're sending us alone?" Kita suddenly interrupted, appearing with a flash. Zavala turned to look at the Ghost, and gave a slight bow of the head.
"Ah, this must be your Ghost." Zavala said. "To answer your question, no, I will not be sending your keep alone. Two other new Guardians have arrived at the Tower this week, and I want you to operate alongside them as a Fireteam." The Commander paused, and glanced over at Cayde-6, who did his best to look innocent.
"Speaking of-" the veteran Hunter put his arm around the Awoken woman and quickly pushed her forward-"this would be one of them." The new Hunter glowered at Cayde, but composed herself and walked forward to stand at the opposite side of the table as Koga. She gave a low bow to each of them in turn, which Koga returned.
"Lisset, of the Queen's Corsairs." The woman said, proudly. Zavala raised an eyebrow at her, and behind her Cayde quietly groaned and put a palm to his face. "Now, of the Guardian Order of Hunters." She amended, quickly. Zavala lowered the errant eyebrow, but an air of light exasperation seemed to flit across his face-something about Lisset seemed to remind the old Titan of something, and from the sour look it hadn't been something pleasant.
"Koga, of the Guardian Order of Warlocks." Koga mimicked, smiling. "It will be a pleasure to work with you." The Hunter didn't return the smile, but she gave a quick nod of agreement.
"Our third should be arriving any moment now." The Commander noted, folding his arms behind his back. Koga cleared his throat and resigned himself for a long wait, but only a few seconds later the sound of footsteps echoed across the hall. "Titan, to me!" Zavala suddenly barked, his voice echoing loudly. Koga spun in place to stare at the new arrival, and saw a hurried-looking Exo step forward. The Titan stopped in place before Zavala, and gave a snappy salute. Zavala returned the gesture, then pointed at the Guardian with an open hand. "Guardians, meet Titan Basilisk-15, your new fireteam lead."
Koga had never seen an Exo looked shell-shocked before, but the way Basilisk's spine straightened like a rod was unmistakable. After a second, he relaxed some and regained his composure, but he still seemed stunned somewhat. If the Titan had been expecting something from meeting Zavala, it certainly had not been that. "Fireteam lead, sir?" He repeated, his voice still sounding vaguely surprised.
"I've had my Ghost monitor your actions since you arrived in the Tower." The Commander started. "Your drive is commendable, and you have the making of a leader. When I see potential, I put it to use." Zavala leaned forward just ever-so-slightly. "Don't make me regret my decision."
"You won't, Commander." Basilisk replied, unmoved. Once the man had his composure back, it seemed like he had always had it. Zavala leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.
"With that, this briefing is over." He said, opening them slowly. "The actual mission planning and execution now falls to you. Good luck, and come home safe." Koga gave a respectful bow, as did Lisset, but Basilisk simply saluted, turned on his heels, and started walking.
"Let's go." The Exo said as he moved for the stairs. "We can't keep the war waiting."
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