A war machine designed for protection was why she was created, to serve as an ageless defender of those more fragile and apt to mortality than herself. Now she is returned to purpose to rectify her failure in death, to restore peace and bring light to where the darkness wills...

The Cryptarch arched a supercilious brow at the pair before him, "Could either of you remind me why you want me to read this aloud?"

The cloaked figure absently poked her knife in the direction of her puzzle-like companion, "because I am not a fan of Little Light's voice here."

"Hey, now", the light of its sensor aperture dimmed and its pearlescent parts flexed in frustration.

"I didn't give you that nickname", her thoughts reminded her of the strange weapon still slung across her back. "That was - whatever her name was."

The Ghost weaved between a passing fire team of Guardians that approached the bank of storage kiosks that sat before the Cryptarch's decoding station, "That wasn't why I was protesting to begin with."

"Sorry, I'm just not a fan because when you're not scanning ancient technology you're either telling me something is on its way to kill me or something is about to explode or both."

"Oh, I'm sorry for annoy-"

"I have better things to do than partake in a vanity project, Guardian. I've a backlog of engrams to decrypt and findings to catalogue."

"Master Rahool, every Cryptarch interprets history but, honestly, how often do they get to make it? This recording is important and not just for posterity", he pleaded.

"As you know, I am an Exo and I've lost so much I've experienced but I'm making new memories now. I've plumbed the depths of the Hive's Lunar catacombs, stormed a Cabal Firebase, witnessed the Vex worship in the Black garden, and breached Fallen strongholds all the while my Ghost has scanned and recorded these encounters. But for all his efforts it is my thoughts he cannot capture. With The Taken here, a wholly new threat, we need every scrap of data on them and for everyone to know how they live, think, and fight. We cannot be caught unawares and I refuse to let not just the Last City be captured but any further inch of our space."

The Cryptarch turned to the floating intelligence, "Are you recording this?"

"Indubitably", the Ghost bobbed with its response.

"So you'll do it?", she punctuated her question by quickly sheathing her hunting knife

With a sigh the old Cryptarch pinched the bridge of his nose.

A war machine designed for protection was why she was created, to serve as an ageless defender of those more fragile and apt to mortality than herself. Now she is returned to purpose to rectify her failure in death, to restore peace and bring light to where the darkness wills itself purchase. In this New Age a terrible threat has crossed paths with The Awoken and left a grievous wound in The Rings of Saturn...