Destiny: The Vault Of Glass

Chapter One: Discover, Part I


The room was dark, shrouded in shadows that felt heavy and oppressive, more like walls than the simple of absence of light that it should be. Of course, darkness carried heavier implications now than ever before. The blackness was kept at bay by the small ball of fiery light that hovered unaided in mid-air. The miniature sun illuminated the table that sat below it, and the various scrolls, data pads and ancient tomes that lay scattered on the wooden surface. A lone Human Warlock pored over the faded and yellowed scroll that was unrolled on the table before him. Several pieces had been torn out, or simply dissolved with age, and the Warlock's Ghost had replaced them with shimmering holographic projections.

The Human scratched the harsh stubble on his cheek absently, as he consulted the aged text on the table. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes moved rapidly along each line, scouring the document for the information he sorely needed. It seemed hopeless, the scroll seemed to actively be hiding what he needed, mocking him with it's vague hints and convoluted allegations. It was almost all conjecture, mere hypotheses by the early 22nd century scientists, made only after the first tentative steps on Venus' surface.

With sudden force, the human thrust the scroll away. The paper cracked, and the steady projections from the Ghost snapped off, relieving the room of its soft blue hue. The Human sat down heavily in the chair behind him with an irritated, weary sigh.

His companion, a fellow warlock and female Exo, looked up from the book she had been studying. She was sat cross legged, hovering a few feet above the floor, the hem of her robes dangling to the dusty floor.

"Patience Darien," she said, her voice coarsened by the robotic voice box, "We will find what need in time."

"I've had nothing but patience for almost three years Deja," the human replied, "And what have I been rewarded for my determination?"

Deja unfolded her legs and landed lightly on the floor with a tiny puff of dust. She laid a hand on the human's shoulder.

"I know," she said softly, "But this is of the utmost importance, we cannot let the ill-informed of the past dampen our resolve."

Darien sighed deeply again, and pulled himself from his chair.

"You're right, of course," he said, "But right now I need some air, and to release some tension."

"What will you do?" Deja asked, titling her head a fraction to one side.

"Tf Ikoa comes calling, tell her I'm partolling the Cosmodrone," Darien said, picking up his scout rifle from the alcove by the door, and slotting in a new magazine, "Just give me a few hours where I don't have to decipher ancient, nonsensical scripture."

If she were capable, Deja would have smiled, and internally she cursed this emotionless form she had been born into.

"I will remain here and continue to decipher this "nonsensicalscripture."

Darien eyed her curiously, his helmet in one hand, his rifle in the other.

"Was that a joke Deja?" Darien asked, feigning surprise," I didn't think you were capable."

"I try," Deja remarked dryly.

Darien slung the rifle onto his back, and pulled his helmet down over his face, where it sealed itself with a pneumatic hiss.

"Give me an hour or two," he said, his voice muffled by the helmet, "I'll try to be back on time."

He pulled the door open, and the watery morning sunlight burst into the room, along with the sounds of the tower. They could hear Ships, soaring into and away from the Guardian's safe haven, and the sound of raised voices as someone argued with Master Rahool drifted over the general noise.

Darien summoned his Ghost, and in a moment he had disappeared, his particles whisked away to his ship which hung in Orbit above the Earth's surface. Deja stood in the door, just listening to the sounds of the Tower above and City below. To think that a portion of this world's survival now rested on her shoulders. It was a heavy burden for anyone to carry.

She stepped back and closed the door, cutting off the sounds and lights of the city abruptly, and throwing the room back into complete darkness. Her Ghost materialised at her shoulder, casting a small pool of light into the room. The walls were thrown into sudden relief, and Deja saw her bookshelves that stretched far beyond the reaches of the Ghost small flash light. She didn't want to think about how long she'd been in here; Darien had said it was three years, but she suspected it was far longer.

She too had grown weary of their search at points, but she had forced herself through the monotony. Now though, now she felt like they were on the brink of something, finding something huge that may finally alleviate them of their search. She paused, realising that she had not thought of her future beyond the confines of this library. What was she to do when the search was finally over? Retire to the city for a few weeks? Explore the Galaxy? Or throw herself into the next piece of history she had to uncover. Truth be told, Deja had never been much of a fighter, relishing nothing from the fields of battle, and outright refusing to partake in Lord Shaxx's Crucible. She had never really seen the point, and much preferred her studies.

"Knowledge is power after all," she muttered to herself, hanging a small ball of Void Light in the air, bathing the room in a pleasant purple glow.

"I do wish you wouldn't do that," her Ghost said disapprovingly, gliding silently around the table.

"Why," Deja said, as she settled her self on a cushion of Void Light.

"To use Void Light is little better than the unholy acts of the Hive Wizards," Ghost replied.

"Unholy?" Deja repeated, "You speak as if we are a covenant Ghost, and we Guardians the Crusaders."

Ghost did not reply, he simply flew away to inspect a Fallen artefact that sat atop the bookshelves, and Deja returned to files she had spread across her lap. She shuffled them, looking for the right place to renew her search, when she came across a strange item. It was unfamiliar, a folded rectangle of paper, which was sealed at the points there the folds met. How odd.

"Ghost, what is this?" she enquired, holding the mystery object up for the little AI to examine.

"I believe," Ghost said slowly, his back end spinning as he scanned, "Its what's called an 'envelope.' Anecdotal records suggest it is an ancient human way of communicating physical messages."

"How bizzare," Deja said, lifting the 'envelope' to the light, "Look Ghost, there's something inside."

"Well, why don't you open it?"

Deja pulled at the sealant, and the substance that once held the envelope shut broke apart with minimal force.

The object that was inside fell into Deja's upturned palm. It was a little book, barely larger than Deja's hand. Bound in red leather, the cover may have once had gold-leaf engraving, but like so many of the tomes Deja had studied, it had been rubbed off so as to now be illegible.

She opened the book gently, mindful that the old leather could crumble at any point. The pages were stained and yellowed by age, but the writing, interestingly, had not faded.

"Research Journal: Dr Charles Edwards- Arch-scholar of New London University," she read, tracing the words delicately with one finger.

She skimmed the proceeding paragraphs. Nothing useful, mainly details of the indigenous Venus plant and wild-life. She was about to toss the small red book aside when a sentence fragment caught her eye.

She backtracked, one hand tapping absently where her bottom lip would be. Yes, there it was.

"January 15/2252.

So far, attempts at opening the door have been unsuccessful, as it has not responded to any outside stimuli. Neither explosives nor out heaviest ordnance can leave a mark, and our Engineer could make neither head nor tail of the gateway. There may be some from of key we may need to find, or perhaps earn to get the door to open..."

"February 29/2252.

The gate remains closed, but I fear we may not get the chance to attempt to open the door again. Last night, automaton guardians appeared at the door, shelling our encampment and killing a good portion of our body guard. Us that survived have retreated to a safe distance, and luckily the automatons seem to be staying put. They seem to want to keep us away fro that gate, lest we open it perchance?"

"July 02/2252.

I have spent these last few months studying the automaton guardians. They appear to have lapsed in a dormant state, but, as one of the few of us left discovered at great cost, they will awaken if we approach the gate at all. I hypothesise that opening the gate has more than a little to do with th giant rings on the ground. The guardians mainly group themselves around these rings, and seemed dedicated to protecting only those.

In whatever case though, I know I wish to leave this God-forsaken planet. It will take several years for the ship that will evacuate me to arrive and we have already been ordered into a cryogenic sleep by the Commander. I just hope we can stay safe until then."

Deja frowned, or she made the nearest approximation she could. How had sh- no, how had they all over looked something so blindingly obvious. Indeed, many Guardians regularly passed through area detailed in this journal whilst on patrol. Yet she was to believe that no-one had investigated? Then she realised. The Speaker had ordered the area off limits to the Guardians, even to the Warlocks, and no-one had questioned him.

"And when one doesn't ask questions," Deja murmured, "One remains ignorant."

She picked up a data pad with one hand, the other still resting on the small red-leather journal. She placed it in a small hovering pedestal of void light, and scrolled trough the reams of data, remembering a file she had barely glanced at months previously. At the time it had seemed irrelevant, but now...

There, a field report from an early Warlock reconnaissance team. She tapped the screen to open it, and the glowing lights of her eyes moved rapidly from side to side as she scanned the text.

Yes, they had noted similar findings, the rings, or as the Warlocks called them, the sync plates were integral. How had no-one discovered this before? Then she noticed the security clearance that had been needed to access the file. GLASSLAND level access required. Speaker's eyes only, or at least, it had been, before the file's lifespan expired and it was archived. How very odd. But incredibly important. Deja stood, not noting the stacks of paper that spilled to the floor.

Ghost tutted and zoomed down to clear the mess that Deja had created. Her mouth moved silently as she read the pad before her, carefully this time, making sure not miss anything. Suddenly, she wheeled around.

"Ghost," she called triumphantly, "Get Darien back here now, he needs to see this."

"Transmitting," Ghost replied, "Done. He'll be here in approximately 30 seconds."

Deja began to pace the room, her robes billowing out behind her. The fatigue from earlier was gone, replaced by an almost childlike excitement. This, this could be her big discovery that cements her legacy, but she just had to be absolutely sure she was right.

At that moment, Darien burst through the double doors, his rifle hanging from one shoulder.

"What is it?" Darien demanded, "What's happened?"

Not trusting her own voice, Deja passed over the data tablet, the section she had found now highlighted in red. Darien's brow furrowed, but the expression was swiftly succeeded by a grin as he read on.

He turned back to Deja, an unsure smile plastered across his face.

"What you've found here is... Ground breaking," he said, gesturing towards the tablet, "But I do not understand how no souls have ever discovered this recount."

"Do not worry yourself with that," Deja said impatiently, "We must inform Ikora at once of what we've discovered. We must tell her we know how to open the Vault of Glass."

"You're sure?" Ikora asked, making no effort to hide the doubt in her voice. Deja and Darien stood in the hall of the Vanguards, which seemed naturally bright and garish after so many years spent in the dark. The hall was nearly empty, save for a single human mechanic working one one of the many Frames that the Tower used.

"Of course," Deja said, waving a hand, "We spent 3 years studying it. I am beyond doubt."

Deja thought it best not to mention how recently they had actually made this discovery, and how the three years spent poring over ancient texts were essentially wasted.

Ikora still looked unsure.

"You say these 'sync plates' are the key?"

"Yes," Darien answered, stepping forward, "The Guardians must hold these plates to raise the Spire, which will, in turn, open the gate."

"And that's it?" Ikora asked, folding her arms, "It's that simple?"

"Unfortunately, no," Darien admitted, "Attempting to capture a sync plate will bring out the Vex who guard the gateway, and these Vex may be more powerful that any we've seen before."

"Only the very best will be worthy of surviving the Vault of Glass, Lady Ikora," Deja added, "I humbly suggest that you put a great deal of thought into whom you pick."

"Yes, thank you Warlock," Ikora replied, a little testily, "You've both done well, I will relay your findings to the Vanguards and we will decide the course of action from there. You're both dismissed."

The two Warlock's stood motionless for a few seconds, before they both came to their senses and began to walk away.

"What now?" Darien asked, eyeing Deja out of the corner of his eye. She shrugged and shook her head, an unusually candid gesture for her.

"How about I show you the city?" Darien asked, clapping Deja in the shoulder, and spreading his other arm wide.

"I- I think I'd like that," Deja replied.

Ikora watched the pair walk away, before looking down and rearranging some on the books on the table before her.

"You really believe them?" came a sceptical voice from the shadows behind her.

"Yes Cayde, I do," Ikora said flatly, "and I don't appreciate you eavesdropping on me from the shadows. I would expect such behaviour from Dreg, not a Vanguard."

Cayde made a dissenting noise at the back of his throat, but didn't argue further.

"It's all very well and good knowing how to get into the Vault, but then what?" he said after a long pause, "I don't want to risk any of my Hunter's lives without intel."

"On that we can agree Cayde," Ikora said, "but to Raid the Vault of Glass could wipe out the Vex entirely, or at least deal a catastrophic blow."

"So it's the 'greater good' bullshit again?" Cayde tutted, folding his arms and leaning against the lip of the table.

"I don't like it either," Ikora conceded, "But if we do take the very, very best, then I would hope they are able to adapt on the field."

Cayde grunted but didn't answer. Ikora stood, and gathered a few of the books under her arm.

"I will consult Commander Zavala and Lord Shaxx on candidates. I advise you start looking extra hard at your roster Cayde, we need the best you have."

Cayde stared at Ikora's back as she walked away, her boots sounding a rhythmic rap-rap on the polished stone floor.

"The very best," he repeated.

In truth, Cayde knew he would resent these Hunters who went onto conquer the Vault of Glass. It had long been one of his dreams, and now he was delegating that dream to his mentees. But such was the price of being a Vanguard.

"The best," he whispered, then he looked up at the flag which hung above his station, and if he could, he would have smiled, "We're a bit overcrowded in that category."


So, this is where I'm going to try make things interesting. I'm going to need six members of the fireteam who'll take on the VOG, and I'd like you to submit some OC characters for me.

What I'll need

(this can be C+P'd for convenience).

Name:

Species:

Gender:

Class & Subclass:

Appearance (both physical and armour):

Preferred Primary weapon class: (e.g. Pulse, Scout or Auto rifle or hand cannon [Duel wielding of HCs is allowed])

Extra stuff (Personality, backstory etc.):

Keep it simple guys if you could, a few lines of each a best, and a paragraph or so for the last section. I'll update as quickly as the OC submissions will allow.

Thanks :)