Destiny, Episode XIV: Chamber of Night

Previous Episode: Episode XIII, Shrines of Oryx
Next Episode: Episode XV, The Summoning Pits

The Tower, the Last City, Earth
Day 034

            The Paladins hurried up the steps inside the Speaker’s Observatory, the ancient scholar waiting for them at the top. They had received the order only a few minutes before, and none of them were about to keep the Speaker waiting during an emergency. Koga was the first to crest the stairs, heart pounding in his chest. “You sent for us, Speaker?” He panted as he caught his breath. A dead sprint from his room to the Speaker’s Observatory wasn’t exactly a quick jaunt.

            “Yes, I did.” The scholar said, his voice grim. “You are amongst the City’s best, and I am calling on you now to face a great threat. Nothing is more important now.” The Speaker paused for effect, and to let the Guardians finish recovering from their run, before continuing. “I, and other scholars like me, believe that the Hive are engaging of a ritual that is draining the Traveler of Light. Whatever power they wield must be understood, and destroyed.”

            “How is that possible?” Basilisk asked, shocked. “They’re nowhere near the City.” The Speaker regarded the Titan for a moment.

            “That is why we are afraid.” He replied. “If they possess the power to siphon energy away from the Traveler, any hope of us waking it will be lost. The light of civilization will go out, and the Darkness will consume as all.”

            “I will not let that happen.” Koga interrupted, his voice firm. “This is my home now – I am not allowing it to burn.” The Speaker raised an arm, pointing to the Traveler illuminated in the night sky, the Moon hanging in the distance above it.

            “Then go, Guardians.” The scholar ordered, his voice trembling softly. “Save the Traveler.” Koga bowed slightly, while Lisset did her usual curtsey. Basilisk, meanwhile, saluted as smart as ever, and together the three hurried down the steps, their minds racing.

            “I can’t believe what they’re doing is even possible!” Basilisk whispered as the fireteam hurried out of the Orrery and towards the Hangar on the other side of the Tower.

            “The Hive don’t exactly play by the rules.” Lisset noted, her eyes narrowing. A month ago, Koga doubted that she would have cared any to the fate of the Traveler or the City it protected. Now, this was as much her home as it was Koga’s or Basilisk’s, and she was as determined to defend it as any Guardian. “Let’s get going – there’s no time to be lost.” Their Ghosts had already sent for their ships, and as the trio ran across the Tower Plaza, they felt the cold of transmat sweep over them before coming to in the seats of their jumpships.

            “Setting a course for Luna.” Koga thought aloud, punching in the coordinates. As his Arcadia streaked for the heavens, Lisset’s Galliot and Basilisk’s Regulus followed close behind. As soon as they broke atmosphere, their NLS drives were prepped and charged, and together they tore through space towards their target. Whatever dark art was being performed on the Moon, the Paladins had little intent to let it continue any longer than it had to. There was too much at stake to do anything less.

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            They touched down where they had before, on the rise leading to the auxiliary entrance to the Hellmouth. They weren’t alone; three other Guardians were waiting for them. As soon as Basilisk touched the ground, a Hunter turned and approached. “Is that who I think it is?” A voice called over comms from the other fireteam.

            “Depends. Who’re you looking for?” The Titan replied. Suddenly, the Hunter let out a whoop and grabbed Basilisk’s hand, shaking it vigorously.

            “I’ll be damned, it is you!” The Hunter said, grinning ear to ear in his helmet. He glanced back at his comrades and waved them over. “Nomads, come say hello to a friend of mine!” The Titan and Warlock behind the stranger got to their feet and ambled over, one eye still turned towards the entrance to the Hellmouth. The Hunter refused to let go of Basilisk’s hand, but his attention had returned to the increasingly confused Exo. “You remember me, right? Vick, from Venus? The guy that pulled your ass from the proverbial fire?” Recognition flashed like a thunderbolt through Basilisk’s mind, and as Lisset and Koga made their landing, the Titan waved them over.

            “It’s good to see you again.” Basilisk said earnestly. Lisset cocked an eyebrow as she approached the two.

“Friend of yours, Bas?” She said, folding her arms around her scout rifle.

“Paladins, meet the man who brought me to the Tower.” Vick let go of the Titan’s hand and did an exaggerated bow, the kind of thing that would put Lisset to shame.

            “Hunter Vick, leader of Fireteam Nomad, at your service.” Vick gestured to the others. “The erstwhile Titan is Fria, and our surprisingly quiet Warlock is Solomon-12. Good people, both of them.” The two awkwardly waved, not really about to dive into the social encounter in the middle of the warzone. Basilisk pointed at his friends in turn as he spoke.

            “Our Hunter is Lisset, and our Warlock is Koga.” Basilisk explained. “I’m Titan Basilisk-15.” With the pleasantries over, the two fireteams regarded the Hellmouth from a distance. “What brought you guys out here?” The Titan asked.

            “The Speaker sent out a signal to all fireteams to scramble to the Moon.” Vick explained. “We’ve been sending out sensor pulses trying to find this ritual of theirs, but it’s been difficult. The entire damn rock is wormed with chambers and passageways, and it could be going on in any one of them.”

            “I’m guessing you haven’t had any luck, then?” Lisset probed. Vick shook his head.

            “Quite the opposite. We think we’ve found the right room, but there’s a problem.” The Hunter dropped to a knee and started to draw in the lunar dust, tracing a rough outline of the Hellmouth. “The issue is that the Hive have fortified every way inside, and we’ve looked at them all. The Temple of Crota, here, and that one little side route at Archer’s Line are all locked up tighter than Rahool’s storehouse.” Basilisk grimaced, looking at the map. There were undoubtedly other Guardians probing the Hive’s defenses, but they didn’t have time for one to find a hole. They’d have to make the breach themselves.

            “The Temple. Just how defended is it?” Basilisk asked. Vick looked up at him, aghast.

            “Heavily. They’ve got some Ogres there to try to keep us out.” He explained. “Surely you’re not thinking of assaulting that way? It’d be suicide!”

            “Suicide or not, I’m willing to bet that the Hive are trusting those Ogres to hold the line.” Basilisk replied. “If you can put some pressure on the doorway over here, you should be able to keep the reinforcements in the wrong section of the fortress long enough for us to push through.” Vick paused for a moment, mulling the idea over in his head.

            “Alright, we can do that.” The Hunter stood back up, and pulled his long sniper rifle off from his back. “Best of luck out there, Paladins.”

            “You too, Nomads.” Basilisk replied. He turned to face his teammates, pacing over to them. “Alright, get your Sparrows. We’re heading to the Temple of Crota.” There was no time to ask questions why, and the Guardians quickly summoned their transport, the hovering craft fizzling into existence beneath their legs. Without a word, they shot off across the lunar plains, their engines kicking up dust as they hurried to the Anchor of Light.

            The House of Exiles once dominated the Anchor, but as the Paladins rode down through the ruins of the ancient colony, nothing came out to attack. “The attack on the Hellmouth must have cost the Exiles dearly.” Koga muttered.

            “They must have been desperate to try it.” Kita replied. “I doubt they’ll be much of a threat to anyone anymore.”

            “I don’t think we’re that lucky.” Lisset cut in. “Watch the shadows, they might still be here.” If they were, they were staying absolutely out of sight. There wasn’t even the faintest sign that any living Fallen were around, just the occasional piece of debris or equipment that the Exiles had abandoned, their operators either long gone or dead somewhere in the Hellmouth beneath their feet.

            The path to the Temple was broken terrain, and the Guardians were forced to dismount. Carefully, they paced forward, the warning of the Ogres defending the entrance fresh in their mind. Any crag could hide a Thrall, any rock a Knight, but as they slowly moved on their motion trackers remained clear.

            “I’m picking up a garbled signal.” Kita suddenly said. “It could be the Speaker – I’m trying to clear it up now.”

            “I’m not picking up anything.” Dal noted.

            “Neither am I.” Boudica added. “Odd. It seems directed at you specifically, Kita.”

            “I’ve noticed.” The Ghost replied. “Koga, if you can move to the clearing by the entrance, I might be able to clear it up so you can hear. It’s nothing but white noise now.”

            “What’s going on?” Basilisk interrupted over comms.

            “I do not know.” Koga answered. “It seems that I am receiving a directed transmission, unknown source.”

            “We don’t exactly have a lot of time here.” Lisset said. “How long do you think it’ll take to sort this out?” Koga shrugged.

            “I cannot say.” The Warlock replied. “Go ahead without me, I will catch up with you.” Lisset and Basilisk glanced at each other, unsure.

            “Okay, but make it quick.” Basilisk finally said, brushing past Koga, rifle in hand. “We need to hurry.” Koga nodded, and moved down the hill behind the Titan, Lisset moving quickly past them both to take point as they approached the massive gate doors, still open from when the Paladins had approached not so long ago. Koga took some comfort in that the body of the fallen Guardian had been retrieved, but there was still a person-sized indentation in the dust where the Titan had died his second death. It was a grim reminder of how dangerous their enemy was, and of their own mortality.

            “Any luck yet, Ghost?” Koga asked, his fingers gripped around his hand cannon. His eyes were watching every shadow, survival resting alone on his ability to see a threat, but there was nothing.

            “I think I have it.” Kita replied. “Patching it in now – I still don’t have an ID on the sender.” The Ghost flashed into existence beside his Guardian, his shell open and glowing with a blue light as Kita searched for the signal. There was a static hiss as the signal finally reached Koga’s ears, broken and confused. As if a storm had passed, the static faded, and suddenly the Warlock could hear a voice.

            “You’re interesting,” the voice said. “Not entirely interesting, but you have promise.” The person on the other end of the communications channel was female, and there was a strange tinge to her voice that went beyond the distortion of the connection. A Ghost? An Exo? Something else entirely? Koga couldn’t say at all.

            “Who is this?” Koga asked, looking around to see if he couldn’t spy the source. It was a search in vain – he still stood alone before the gates to the Temple of Crota.

            “Guardian, I know what you’re about to do.” The voice started. Koga wasn’t sure if she couldn’t hear him, or if she had simply dodged the question entirely. “It’s brave, but there are enemies out here that you would not believe.”

            “Out where?” Koga asked again. There was a long pause, as if the person on the other end was tempted to answer.

            “Go down and face the Hive,” the voice continued, “and if you live, come find me.” With that, the static returned. Kita did his best to restore the connection, but after a moment he sighed, defeated. The Ghost closed his shell and floated closer to the Warlock.

            “The channel is gone.” He said. “All I got were some broken coordinates, and a date: Venus, northern hemisphere; the old Ishtar region. The time listed is two days from now exactly.” Before Koga could reply, there was a deep guttural roar that echoed out from the Hellmouth. The two turned to face the source, and the Warlock’s heart fell into his stomach. The sound could mean only one thing: his friends had kicked the hornet’s nest. “What do we do now?” Ghost murmured, nervous. Koga turned to look at his Ghost, and gripped his revolver tighter.

            “We go down.”

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            Basilisk ducked as a stream of Ogre eye beams lanced out from the warbeast’s head. “Koga, where the hell are you?” The Titan shouted into comms as he fired a quick burst from his pulse rifle at the abomination. They had pushed forward just a bit too far, down beyond the entrance to the Temple that they had explored not so long ago, and had found massive spires stretching up and down from abysses that spewed green gas. Hive Seeders, ready for war and aimed straight at the Earth.

             “I am on the way!” Koga’s voice crackled over comms suddenly. Basilisk sighed in relief – if the Paladins were going to break through the Hive line, they’d do it together. Not like Basilisk was going to say that out loud, though. He was going to let the Warlock sweat a little under those floofy robes of his.

            “About damn time!” The Exo barked. “Lisset, status?”

            “Pinned down, but still okay!” She replied. A Hive blade swung down at her out of the corner of her eye, and the Hunter swiftly slipped out of the way, spinning to face the offending Knight, shotgun in hand. The warrior of the Darkness had maybe a fraction of a second to reconsider its life decisions before being blown away at point blank. Lisset grinned toothily under her helmet as she pumped the weapon, priming it for the next shot. Adrenaline was flowing through her veins at a feverish pace, and the entire world seemed to twist and turn about her. Perhaps that was why she suddenly pulled out a grenade and rounded her cover, sprinting straight at the Ogre.

            “Lisset, what are you doing?” Basilisk shouted, but the Hunter wasn’t hearing. She was in a world of her own, holding the explosives tight in her hand. The Ogre regarded her approach with curiosity at first, then rage. The massive warbeast raised its hands up to smash the ground and crush Lisset underneath, but as its fists hit the ground, there was no Guardian there. With a flash of light, she reappeared right behind the Ogre, having phased right through the abomination in the blink of an eye. Before the monster could turn, micro-explosions detonated all across its body, and the beast fell to the ground, burning away. The Hunter bounded back to her earlier cover, dodging shots from boomers and shredders alike. Basilisk stared at her, agape. “What did you-how did you-“ Lisset grinned.

            “A new trick I picked up.” She replied. “It’s called blinking.”

            “Did you learn that from Cayde-6?” Koga asked, rushing to take cover beside her. Lisset rolled her eyes at that, but slowly nodded.

            “I still think he’s annoying, but the man knows his stuff.” Lisset answered. “In any case, the Ogre’s dead.”

            “I saw that. Push through them, Paladins!” Basilisk rounded his cover, his pulse rifle blazing in his hands. With the abomination dead, the core of the Hive defense had shattered, and the remaining Acolytes and Thrall were little match for three determined Guardians. Within seconds, the room was clear, and the path to the next chamber was open.

            “Boudica, how far are we from the ritual?” The Titan asked, slapping a new magazine into his rifle.

            “According to Fireteam Nomad’s data, not too far.” The Ghost replied. “It’s quite close to the World’s Grave, actually.” Koga frowned.

            “I doubt that is a coincidence.” The Warlock muttered. “At least it is familiar territory.”

            “Yes, but very much still hostile territory.” Dal interrupted. “I’m detecting more contacts ahead – I would advise continuing before more approach.” They didn’t need any further encouragement, and together the Guardians moved on.

            The next chamber was quite similar to the previous one, though on one single plane rather than a slow spiral up to the Temple. As with the last, a Hive Seeder sat in the center, pipes running up from its hull down to the floor. Lisset could only assume that it was being fueled, though she was somewhat surprised to see that the Hive would have to do something as grounded as that for their craft. After seeing a Tombship cut through reality, it was hard to juxtapose that with a refueling pipe.

There were some Hive guarding the Seeder, but it was very clear that they weren’t expecting company. A Knight, presumably the small pack’s leader, pointed at the Paladins in alarm and began shouting in its arcane tongue, and before long a half dozen Thrall rushed out towards the Guardians, supported by Acolytes. The Thrall didn’t last very long, but they weren’t meant to. By the time the last Thrall fell, a half-dozen more Knights had appeared, flanked by twice as many Acolytes, and a Wizard taking control from the rear.

“We’ve got company!” Basilisk shouted. He clenched his jaw in frustration – either the Nomads weren’t keeping the Hive’s attention, or Koga’s distraction had taken up too much time. Either way, the warriors of the Darkness were flooding in the direction of Fireteam Paladin. “Push through them!”

“Easier said than done!” Lisset yelled back, dodging a cruel slash from a Knight’s blade. Basilisk let his Light flow into his hands, and rushed forward. If they were to break the Hive’s defenses, it would have to be done quickly, and there were few powers the Titan knew of capable of instant devastation greater than a single Fist of Havoc. Leaping up into the center of the Hive, bolts of burning void energy dissipated against his shield as he brought his linked fists down. The ground trembled as his Light exploded into arc waves, disintegrating everything near where he had come down.

The remaining Hive scrambled backwards to reform the line, the Wizard injured but still alive, and now incredibly angry. Bolts of blue arc energy lanced out from its hands, aimed straight at the Titan. His stamina drained, most of those shots had little trouble hitting Basilisk, and he barely ducked behind cover alive.

“Basilisk!” Koga shouted in alarm. “Keep the Wizard away from him!” His hand cannon roared in his hand, and the Wizard’s ritual shield flashed with every round’s impact, a desperate attempt to draw the thing’s attention away from the wounded Exo. This deep into the Hive fortress, it was hard to say whether or not a Guardian could be brought back should they fall – it was a question that the Warlock did not wish to answer.

It was Lisset who finished the deal, her scout rifle finally piercing through the floating commander’s defenses and punching right through its robes. Shrieking in agony and hatred, the Wizard died a quick death. She hurried over to Basilisk, who got out from behind his low cover.

“Bas, are you okay?” She asked. The Titan slowly nodded.

“I’ve had worse.” He replied, his voice more subdued thanks to the injury. He looked down at his scorched armor where a few arc bolts had pierced his shield of Light and had fused the plate, and burned the wearer. “I’ll need to talk to Zavala about repairing the damage, but my injuries will recover quickly enough.” His grip on his pulse rifle tightened, taking the pain out on the weapon. Why Exos could feel pain, Basilisk could not say, but it was there all the same.

“We have to keep moving.” Koga said, grimacing underneath his robes. “The ritual is not too far away.” Basilisk nodded, and straightened his back, trying to reassume the steady, sturdy appearance that he wore every time he went out into the field.

“Then lead the way, Warlock.” Basilisk barked. Koga nodded, readied his revolver, and started to walk.

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            The Hive, of course, did everything they could to try to stop the Paladins in their tracks. However, their response was stunted, panicked, and confused. The Nomads reported nothing to their fellow Guardians about their progress, but Basilisk could only assume that his earlier fears of their assault faltering must have been mistaken. The other fireteam was heading deep into the Hellmouth, towards the ritual chamber, and it was forcing the Hive to split their attention between the two. It was a mistake that Basilisk was going to make them regret every footfall deeper he took into the Hellmouth.

            They passed through the many chambers of the fortress, past where they had found the World’s Grave not so long ago. Knights, Acolytes, Thralls, and those strange Shrieker turrets all attempted to stop their progress, and all died for their attempts. Finally, the three Guardians found themselves standing outside a great brass door at the end of a short stairway heading down, unmistakably human and Fallen bones lying discarded on every step as a warning to those who would attempt to enter. From the other side of the door, the Guardians could hear faint chanting, slow and steady refrains of a song entirely sung in the arcane tongue of the Hive. Something dark awaited them on the other side – they could feel it in their bones.

            “Here it is.” Dal whispered. There was a very real fear in his voice, Lisset noted silently. “The darkest of all the Hive’s chambers.” No one had to say the thought all of them shared the moment the Ghost spoke – so far.

The walls groaned as the door slid open, revealing a large circular room broken up by tall pillars reaching from the ceiling to the floor.  The room was tiered, with its highest point on the left and its lowest on the right, and a great platform in the center. Levitating above it was a massive object, a knife-like thing colored faintly white covered in pulsating, glooming black. Around it hovered three Witches, their robes colored darker than any the three Guardians had seen before, tending the ritual.

“Clear the room, Paladins.” Basilisk growled, readying a grenade. For whatever reason, the Wizards had ignored the arrival of the fireteam. That behavior ended rapidly once a flashbang exploded in the center of their circle. For all of their intimidating robes and their role in the ritual, the three witches died quickly at the hands of the Guardians, leaving them alone with the object of the dark ceremony.

“What is that?” Koga thought aloud, staring intently at the thing. The dark surrounding it seemed to obscure the object, and trying to stare at the thing beneath felt to the Warlock like trying to grasp at a cloud – whenever one thought they had it, it slipped free.

“I’m detecting Hive reinforcements.” Boudica interrupted, her voice slightly alarmed. “A lot of them.”

“Where’s Nomad?” Basilisk asked, slapping a new magazine into his rifle.

 There was a pause as the Ghost tried to find an answer.

            “Several floors above us.” She replied. “They are still moving towards us, but they are too far away to arrive before the Hive.”

            “We’re on our own.” Lisset said, readying her shotgun. “What do we do about this thing?” She gestured with a shoulder in the direction of the strange object. With a flash, her Ghost apparated into existence, and floated towards a strange Hive device located in the room’s highest tier.

            “I’ll try to sort that out.” Dal announced. “Keep them back until I can find a way to end the ritual for good.”

            There was little time to coordinate a defense. An angry roar echoed throughout the Hellmouth, as if every Hive at once shouted a war-cry and began making their way towards the Paladins. The Thrall were, of course, the first to arrive, rushing forward like a wave from the many access doors leading into the chamber. Grenades worked best against them, but it was like using pebbles to stop the tide. It came down to emptying magazine after magazine, shot after shot, into the horde to lower their numbers down to the point where knife and fist and Light were able to finish the job. When the last Thrall fell, and the first of the Acolytes and Knights arrived, the armor of all three Guardians were coated grey in Thrall dust.

            The Acolytes did their best to support the Knights as the latter rushed forward, hoping to reach the console that Dal was busy scanning and interacting with. Koga was not sure if their behavior was so directed because of the importance of what the Ghost was looking at, or if it was because the Ghost was outside a Guardian’s armor at all, but either way it made their assault predictable. Lisset cut the bulk of the oncoming Knights down with her Bladedance, her knife arcing blue and slicing through even the thickest chitin with a single slash.

            There was a final roar, monstrous and tortured, coming from a massive door at the front of the room, where the ground was the lowest. It was not identical to the one that the Guardians had heard earlier, when they had been hunting for Oryx’s Shrine, but it was similar enough for them to know what they were dealing with. As the remaining Hive clustered around the door, shredder bolts lancing towards them like purple knives, the doors opened to reveal a massive Ogre, its eyebeam firing a storm of violet void energy at the Guardians who dared to desecrate the ritual.

            “Hit that thing!” Basilisk barked, his rocket launcher transmatting into his hands. Lisset and Koga did the same, their heavy machine guns taking form fully loaded and ready for war. Together, the three opened fire, unleashing death and fire straight at the last Hive rushing towards them. The Ogre, to its credit, pushed through the onslaught far better than any of its comrades did, ignoring every chunk of withered flesh blown away by the volley of high caliber fire or the explosions of a rocket slamming into its chest, but eventually it fell, burning away like the blight it was. The roars stopped, and the motion tracker became empty. The Guardians were alone.

            “Is that it?” Koga asked, panting heavily as the adrenaline flowed out of his system.

            “No additional Hive forces detected.” Boudica replied. “It seems that we have broken them for now.” She flashed into reality, and floated to Dal’s side. “Any luck, Dal?” There was a pause, and the Ghost stared at her comrade in concern. “Dal?”

            “I know what this is.” Dal replied, horrified and fascinated all at once. “It’s a shard of the Traveler!” The blackness that was consuming the object all at once burned away, and a bright light unlike anything that the Guardians had ever seen shined from the knife-like shard. When it faded, a perfect alabaster thing remained, hovering over the ritual platform. “There was a theory made by a Warlock named Ulan-Tan, a very long time ago.” Dal explained quickly. “He believed that all Light was connected. We just found the truth.” The shard began to shimmer, and within a few seconds it faded away, gone from the Hellmouth.

            “Where’d it go?” Basilisk asked, surprised.

            “I do not know.” Koga answered. “Perhaps it has returned to the Traveler. All I know is that the Hive do not have it any longer.”

            “So the Hive were siphoning Light from the Traveler using this shard?” Kita thought aloud. “It’s fascinating, but there are supposed to be enemies on Venus worse than this? Great.”

            “Venus?” Lisset repeated, looking over at Koga. “Who said anything about Venus?” Koga held up a hand.

            “I will explain when we return to the Tower.” The Warlock replied, grimacing. “A stranger is calling me to the Ishtar Sink, and I intend to discover why.”