... contact initiated . negotiating with host . assessing firewalls . fault line marking initiated . running siege protocols . manufacturing breach . accessing . manufacturing authorisation . accepted . zeropointlevel access . searching security logs . d12122312t1204ltowerwestunit19 . replay file . interrogation subject1 . designation GH"Diz" . voicefile ready . initiate playback ...
"Where do I begin?"
... identify . designation GT "Zavala" . tag identity "Z" ...
"Depends what you want to talk about. Is Cayde here?"
... identify . designation GH "Diz" (subject1) . tag identity "D" ...
Z : "Two guardians are dead. Four crewmembers of the cargo ship Dawn Hush. An unauthorised combat mission carried out on Mars. And you Diz, there every time. Awol from duty. Ignoring comms. Then you reappear this morning, in the tower. Breaking into Executor Hideos quarters. I need an explanation, guardian."
... hold playback . analysing background noise . accessing building schematics . analysing acoustics . rendering acoustic model . filtering . result 97% probability . 6 individuals present . 2 seated . 4 on perimeter . accessing security traffic logs . identifying . temptag identities U1,U2,U3,U4 . resume playback ...
D : "That's funny, Zavala. When did I ever get what I needed from you? Never mind what I wanted. If it helps you sleep tonight I didn't kill the crew of that ship. They were long dead when I found them. So was that warlock, Lyssa. That was her name, wasn't it?"
Z : "Yes. That was her name."
D : "As for the other warlock on Mars, Tarrat I think he called himself. Didn't give me much choice, to be fair. Technically it would have to be classed as a suicide. Can I speak to Cayde?"
... hold playback . voice stress analysis . pulling files for comparison . running . result (88 percent certainty subject believes statement to be true) . continue background process . resume playback ...
Z : "Jokes, guardian? What do you think is happening here?"
D : "I don't know Zavala. Either everything's funny, or nothing is. Option one has more appeal. I'm not awol. I'm running an op, under orders, but other guardians keep trying to kill me. Now here I am, being interrogated like a criminal. You have to laugh, don't you? Well. Maybe not you."
Z : "Who gave you this mission? Running unsanctioned ops from my tower?"
D : "You know I won't tell you that. How can I trust you now, Commander? How can I trust anyone here? It wasn't Cayde though if that's what you're thinking. Where is he, anyway? I would have thought he would have come to see me, at least. I mea- "
Z : "Quiet. No more games, Diz. You are the only suspect in these crimes. I need to know what's going on and you're going to tell me. Truth, guardian. Why won't your ghost submit to a memory read?"
D : "He's always been stubborn. Plus ... I told him not to."
... hold playback . voice stress analysation . pulling files for comparison . running . results inconclusive . continue background process . resume playback ...
Z : "You told him not to? Then how do you intend to prove your innocence?"
D : "Oh, well... I don't, I suppose. I intend to escape."
...background noise . identify . laughter(?) . U3(?)...
Z : "You are in the heart of the tower. Your weapons and ship have been confiscated. I have 4 titans in this room who will be watching your every move. You're going nowhere, Diz."
... analysing . 62% likelihood untrue . query? . situational logic error . analysing ...
D : "We'll see. Look Commander, I don't have all day. Places to be and all that. Do you want to know what happened or not? I'll tell you what I can if it puts a smile on that big angry face of yours. Might be a little hard to believe, though."
Z : "Try me."
D : "Fair enough. But I know you. And you won't like what you hear. That ship, The Dawn Hush, had gone dark. I went to find out why."
Z : "At whose request?"
D : "Really? I've told you already, you'll get what I can give. I've long exhausted the little trust I had in the Consensus. I ran the op at the request of a friend, to repay a favour. That will have to do for now. I'd rather speak to Caybe but...? No. Well. Back to it. The ship was drifting, damaged. Hard to find with no comms signals, floating in the asteroid belt. Like I said, the crew and the guardian were already dead when I went aboard. No-one else was there."
C : "If you didn't kill them then who did?"
D : "I don't know. Not yet. There wasn't much to work with in the way of clues."
... 98% likelihood truth ...
C : "You didn't find anything?"
D : "I didn't say that. I said there wasn't much."
C : "Then what was there, Diz?"
D : "Only the music, Zavala. Only the music."
... hold playback ...
Have you listened to it? I told you there was only a voicefile. Yes. Then you know I'm telling you the truth. The Dawn Hush? Why do you need me to tell you about the ship? You know more about it than I do. Alright. Alright. No. No, of course I don't want that. You don't have to do that. Yes, I understand. I will. I know. Everything. Everything I know.
Go back.
This is The Dawn Hush, two weeks before.
This is where it begins.
Here, adrift between the stars. There are secrets here. A tale among the bodies.
The ship turns slowly on its axis, powerless, spinning in the black. Once it was a cargo ship headed to the reef, alive with light and motion and crew. Now it is little more than salvage.
Now it is a tomb.
Sunlight glints on its surfaces, shadows moving over the shaped metal, across the hull shielding and wings for atmosphere. Across the faction markings of Dead Orbit. Tiny fragments of dust and debris spark in the light around it. Look closer. There is damage here. Scarring from weapons fire.
Time passes. The scene changes.
A new player. Another ship, smaller, sleek and dark it slips through the debris field. This one is called The Blade Itself. A guardians ship, though few in the tower know its name. It closes the distance in the blink of an eye and pulls alongside the larger vessel. The docking port lights come alive.
Now there is movement at the connection between them. Inside the extended umbilical, a guardian and her ghost.
This is Diz.
A hunter, plainly clothed in dark red and black. She advances, crouched and alert. Where she pauses your eyes can lose her for a second, that dull cloak and hood fading against the background. They conceal a simple trick, nanofilaments distorting the light, blurring her edges. She is moving again, a languidity to this motion, a misleading nonchalance. It is another feint, of course. A learned skill to put opponents off guard, buying that vital instant. Her smooth gait has always been deceptively quick, belying her intent. Like a whip, paused in the upswing, ready to crack. There is a pistol in her right hand. It is one of a kind.
She has been ordered to this place but she does not know why or what she will find.
There is a story here.
This is where it begins.
"Anything?"
... I told you, nothing. No life signs. No heat signatures. No movement. Minimal internal power, likely emergency life support running from a battery backup. The ships dead, Diz ...
"Maybe. But caution is our watchword tonight, ghost. When did we ever do something as stupid as running a blind op in enemy territory? And there is something very wrong about all of this, don't you think?"
... I'm not disputing that. But there is a marked difference between caution and paranoia. Also, as you pointed out, the Cabal own this area. We are on the clock. The longer we stay the greater our risk of being spotted. We were lucky to slip through their perimeter as it was. And it's 13.56."
"I...wait, what?"
... you said "tonight". It is demonstrably not, on Standard time ...
"Okay. As always, thankyou for your input. Crack the seal on the next airlock. Anytime today will be fine."
Her ghost rose and sped to the next junction, a brief light in the dark of the corridors. Diz watched the stabbing, rotating flashes of blue between her companion and airlocks interface. The light flashed around them, reflecting on the black and grey steel of the hull. She edged forward, sighting her weapon on the opening.
But...why me?
Her own words, just a day before.
Any one of a hundred guardians could take this mission. Or even better a fireteam. Anyone who knows me knows I've never had any interest in faction affairs. I've never taken allegiance with any of them. I've never even ran a bounty for them. I don't like them. They really, really don't like me.
Exactly, she was told.
Her ghost was speaking again, a voice she knew as well as her own.
...those docking panels were carrying some damage. The Blade has taken a few scratches in the link up. Miss Holliday will not be happy...
"Ah, Amanda. She's the perfect woman, you know. Have I told you that, ghost?"
... 23 times. Not including this time ...
"Well, its true. I think I'm in love with her."
... No, you don't and you're not. And even if you were, she hates you...
"It hurts me to hear you say that ghost. Hurts deep."
... No. It doesn't. Which is one of the myriad of reasons why you are nearly universally disliked. You don't care about other people. Other guardians. Or the tower, the traveller. Nothing the rest of us do ...
"You wouldn't have anyone else though, would you ghost?"
... I would, actually. Almost anyone else ...
"Ghost."
... In fact, our time together has made me look on my decades alone with a certain fondness. I think - ...
"Ghost, enough. I get it. Next corridor."
The ship was still rotating as they moved through the dark. In the silence Diz stepped from floor to wall, wall to roof.
... the artificial gravity systems have lost their horizon lock ...
"Yes. Spotted that, oddly enough. Can you use the thrusters on The Blade to stabilise it?"
...I should be able too. Calculating. We should be steady in 30 seconds...
"What's the next area?"
... cargo bay. Opening now...
She stepped to the floor, exhaled, watched the door slide back down the sight of her weapon.
This time there was light ahead, the blood red of emergency lights pulsing through thin metallic smoke. She knew that taste in air. Residue from fusion fire. Burnt flesh and bone. Memories rising from the dark.
you murdered us
"What did you say?"
...I didn't say anything Diz. Are you alright?...
No. Not here.
...what did you hear?...
"Nothing. It was nothing. Let's move."
...Diz?...
"I said I'm fine. Go. On the clock, remember?"
...Diz...
"We can talk about it later. Move."
They passed through the entryway into the cargo hold, her ghost rising to view the room, Diz tight to the wall. She could make out shapes now in the half light. Crates and equipment. Damaged panels and fixtures.
Bodies.
...three of the crew. Scanning. They don't appear to have been killed by direct weapons fire. Two by flying debris, the other from indirect void burn. There's a console here that still has some functionality. Accessing ...
As the ghost worked, the guardians eyes fell on the corpses. Still and cold. One twisted in pain. A single eye, dry and pale, stared back. The other had been burnt from its socket. Nothing now, she thought, just meat. Just shapes on a floor. Keep moving. Don't look back.
The lights flickered around them.
That eye.
What did it see?
...got something...
Diz snapped back to the scene, pulling her gaze away from the dead.
Focus, guardian.
...some manifest detail. They were transporting two high value packages, unmarked storage. The first was three metres long but the other specs are lost or corrupted. The second was much smaller, a half metre cube. They were both loaded on Venus. No destination logged. The information cell is present and clean, there just hasn't been anything inputted. Definitely Dead Orbit, I recognise some of the coding language. Can't get anything else from here. All the hard connections to other areas have been cut. There was clearly an intense firefight. The weapons scarring and debris patterns would suggest it started - ...
"Here."
Diz had crossed the room and climbed on top of one of the containers. She perched over an opening in the case, peering inside as her ghost approached. Except for the heavily padded interior panels it was hollow. Collapsed alongside, torn apart by weapon fire, was a dead Frame.
"Unmarked. 3 metres long. And open. This could be our first package from Venus. But I don't see anything that matches the description of the second."
...no, it definitely isn't here. Neither are the contents of that, whatever they were. As for the Frame, ID tags on the chassis flag it as Dead Orbit, standard medical unit, relatively common on crewed vessels like this one. The neural cortex is too heavily damaged to extract anything coherent. The next area on the way to the bridge is the mess hall. This way...
They advanced again. The ghosts pale light illuminated the exit.
...well, this isn't good...
The alloy door, framing and section of wall around the lock had been torn away. The main body of debris lay on the other side, buckled and broken beyond recognition.
"Glorious. This gets better by the second. It looks like a ketch went through it."
...admittedly, the scene indicates, physically at least, rather formidable opponents. No need to worry yet though...
"Yet?"
...indeed. All we have observed so far are simply points of evidence, individual facets which could have any number of meanings. We require more data to see a pattern. One point does stand out though...
"Well? Don't keep me in suspense."
...there is no evidence of use of any type of weapon other than those which would have normally been aboard. If this was cabal, vex, hive or fallen then they were unarmed. Which is frankly absurd. The medical Frame was also destroyed by projectile fire consistent with that of the sidearms carried by the crew...
"They destroyed their own Frame?"
...I didn't say that. I said their weapons were used...
A narrow gangway led on to the mess hall. As before, the walls were streaked with fusion burns and the ragged marks of projectile fire. Diz felt herself drawn forward, a familiar grip in her chest, pulling her into the black, another edge, another fall, down to the inevitable end.
It doesn't have to be this way. More voices, rising from memory. In another time, in another place, these steps are through golden fields under sun.
Hold on.
They passed through.
...Diz...
Like the cargo hold there were signs of fighting. A little light, a little smoke. Trails of blood on the floor led to another body.
...It's a guardian Diz. One of us...
In the far doorway, on her back. An Awoken. A warlock.
A guardian.
In a second they were by the body, Diz crouched, ghost above.
...we're too late. There's no light here. Her face, Diz...
"I know."
The warlocks helmet lay broken across the floor, hammered away by the same blows which had caved in her skull. What remained of a metal orb nestled in the blood and shattered bone.
...that's her ghost...
"I see it. I see it. This is wrong, all of this. Vex, Cabal, Hive, Fallen. Nothing fits. To beat a lone guardian to death with their own ghost. Kill the crew. Then... leave? Without a trace? What was so valuable in those two packages? And if it was so valuable why wasn't it better guarded? And why leave this scene behind? Leave the cargo, the weapons, the bodies. Why not take them? Why not take the ship? It's senseless."
...I can't get anything from her ghost, not here anyway. The best I can do is an ID. Lyssa Arret, warlock in good standing with both Dead Orbit and the Vanguard. Accessing her records...
"Lyssa? I know that name. Have we met her before?"
...Yes we have. A Hakke testing event at the tower. You were drunk. It was an acutely embarrassing night, even by your standards...
"Ah. Nobodys perfect, ghost."
...Indeed. Her file makes interesting reading. She was intelligent, extremely so for a biological. Specialized in communications encryption. The last two years she has been with the same fireteam, two other warlocks, all Dead Orbit. Abdel Tarrat and Petr Song. The three of them have been close since they fought together at Twilight Gap, in fact I've seen them in the tower together. I have their research files, they were open access on the Vanguard network. Their focus had been the Vex, in particular transfer gate technology. Operating on Venus...
"Had been?"
...they had been filing weekly reports without fail since their first day on the project. But nothing for last week. And the file from the previous week was erased before anyone had viewed it...
"Alright. It still doesn't make any sense but at least we have some pieces. Keep talking. The other two, Tarrat and Song. Where do we find them?"
As her ghost spoke, covering the history and movements of the two warlocks, Diz holstered her pistol and walked the room.
Blood on the floor at the entrance, barely visible through the weapon damage. Nothing on the grooves and burns though, so the blood came first. Droplets leading back to the exit, then returning to the centre of the room. An overturned table, cups and plates scattered.
On the floor amongst them a tiny light caught her eye. A red dot on the side of a plain grey cube, only a few inches square.
"Ghost?"
...yes?...
"This has power."
...yes. It's only a music player for the social area Diz. It isn't connected to anything else. I already checked it, there's nothing in the memory file but music. No voice or data files...
"It's paused..."
She held the device in her palm.
"Play."
The device activated, filling the room with music.
...we've heard this piece once before. Do you recognise it?...
"Yes. Yes, I do. Stop."
The music ceased, silence rushing back.
"Can you tell when it was paused?"
...why would that matter?...
"Can you?"
...there is an internal chronometer. It was paused . . . 12.08. Same day the ship went quiet."
Diz slid the cube into a pocket, re-drew her weapon.
"Alright. What's left?"
...only the cockpit. If we are going to get anything from the systems that are left it will be there...
They passed the bodies of guardian and ghost.
...we need to take them with us...
"We will."
The next door had also been smashed through. It lay half inside the frame, hammered out of shape by a series of blows. Behind it, sat against the wall, was the body of the last crewmember. His head hung forward, exposing a fatal impact wound on the rear of his skull. Higher on the wall a bloody mark showed the likely cause.
...looks like he tried to hold the door against whatever was coming through. And was crushed when it did...
"Brave. But stupid."
...what else could he do?...
"In my experience there's always something. Who killed these people, ghost? Why."
...it seems increasingly unlikely that any alien races were involved. There is no tangible evidence of any of their involvement...
"Another faction?"
...petty bickering between factions, yes. But murder? The faction wars are over ...
"Some wars have no end. Or so I've heard."
Her ghost floated to the main console. The interface had been shattered, screens torn away. Blue light stabbed out, probing the wreckage.
...accessing what remains of the ships mainframe. Everything with an external connection has been wiped. Everything without appears to have suffered at least some degree of physical damage. There is very little left to work with. Attempting data reconstruction...
"If they were trying to conceal their crimes this was a laughable attempt. Why not destroy the ship entirely? Or take it?"
...attracting the cabal would have been a risk. Perhaps their own vessel was better equipped? And destroying the ship would certainly have brought unwanted attention...
"Maybe. Got anything yet?"
...incredibly, yes. Parts of the local memory storage weren't as fractured as I had first thought. I'm getting some data from the ships internal monitoring. 4 crew and a medical frame were recorded on departure from Venus...
"No guardian?"
...no. No record of her anywhere on the ship when they departed. But that doesn't mean she wasn't here. Soon after departure there are a number of course corrections that aren't logged with the Vanguard. A lot of basic day to day information but nothing of interest. Looks like they were cutting as close to the Cabal lines as possible...
"That only makes sense if you are more concerned about running into your own people than you are the enemy."
...I concur. When they reach this asteroid field the data becomes dramatically less coherent. There appears to have been a central system incursion from an external source. The propulsion is cut first, then everything else except life support...
"I thought Dead Orbit said their nav encryption was uncrackable?"
...well, someone cracked it. They tore through the security like it wasn't even there. An external contact was established at 12.01.01. The ship reported a loss of executive control at 12.01.01. Whatever happened was almost instantaneous. Wait. This is what we are looking for. Another ship approaches them less than a minute later. I can't get an ID. It comes up on the external sensors and immediately closes to docking distance...
"Were they fired on?"
...not at this point. The vex have the kind of processing power necessary for this. And the ship did come from Venus...
"No. Not the vex. Nothing else fits. What next?"
...an exterior airlock is breached, attached to the cargo bay. The crew already know because they have opened the weapons locker and are there waiting. Very patchy information from here on. There is weapons fire. Airlock door is sealed. 2 life signs in the mess area, I can't identify them. Then one in the mess and one in the cockpit. Then 2 in the mess and one in the cockpit. Then one and one again. Then just one. Then all monitoring goes down...
"Okay. At least we have something to work with. Let's recap. The warlocks, all Dead Orbit, are studying the Vex on Venus. They report something which is immediately removed from the public feed. This ship leaves Venus with two packages, the contents of which are being concealed. They plot a course through extremely dangerous territory. Risky but sensible if you want to avoid the Vanguard. Then their systems are overrun by an exterior source and they lose control of the ship. Whoever is responsible has off the chart processing power and knew they were here. Another ship appears. They are boarded via the cargo bay. Whoever boarded them kills 3 of the crew and forces our warlock and the remaining crew member back into the mess area. Without using any weapons that weren't already on board."
...Lyssa Arret was no novice. She was a smart, capable veteran. Thousands of confirmed combat kills...
"I know. We are missing something here. A lot of somethings. How long did she have in the mess before the door gave way?"
...14 seconds. Minus whatever time it took to get the last crewman into the cockpit and seal it...
"So, very little. Maybe 10 seconds. She's wounded. She's trapped. She's overmatched. She knows she is likely to be killed. And she uses the time to listen to a few seconds of a song?"
...12.09. Timewise it does match up. Why she would do this however is beyond me...
"She must have known anything she left behind would likely be taken or destroyed. So how do you leave a clue? When you can't leave anything behind?"
...you can't...
"She wasn't stupid. You said it yourself. Very intelligent. She wouldn't waste the last seconds of her life. Anything she done would have been for a reason."
...all the comms systems were down. Unless she cut words into the wall there was no way for her to contact anyone. If you mean the song was the message...
"I do. It could be a private code for something. Or it could mean ... someone else."
...you mean him...
"Yes. Him. But this is getting us nowhere. Let's keep going. The door is breached. She fights, she loses. Whoever killed her makes sure neither her or her ghost will be coming back. They take out the next door and the last of the crew. Then start destroying the ships systems. When they are done, they leave with the smaller of the packages in the hold, and the contents of the other. Plus this ship was fired on at some point. Logically it would have had to have been then, as there is no record before. But why cripple an empty ship?"
...no idea. So far, that's as close to the truth as we can get...
"It doesn't feel very close."
...no. It doesn't...
Diz sat with her back to the console, looking past the crewmans body, past the broken door. Her eyes rested on her fellow guardian.
No coming back this time, friend.
We all have the same fate. The only thing that seperates us is time.
She tapped the barrel of her pistol on the steel grating of the floor. Breathed deeply, eyes closed.
"I still don't understand why they would leave all this. There is a lot here we don't understand but that is utterly illogical. The only reason I can see to do it would be . . . would . . ."
...Diz?...
"The only reason would be to see who came looking. Leave it and let the Cabal do your dirty work for you. Why cripple an empty ship..."
The silence hung heavy in the room. That smell, of blood and fire.
you shot me in the back
"Ghost. Get The Blade ready. We are leaving. Right now."
...We are? Alright, but ... Diz. Diz, somethings wrong. The external airlocks have sealed themselves...
"When? How? I thought there was no power."
...there wasn't. They came online when I first accessed the mainframe from the cockpit. The process was masked from me. Flawlessly. A trap in what was left of the software. And I fell for it. Oh no. Not just the doors...
"What now?"
...a distress beacon was activated at the same time. It's already been going off for minutes...
"The Cabal..."
...yes, the Cabal. I've linked up with The Blade and her long range scanning is already picking up two ships, closing on our position. Eta is . . . 2 minutes, if we're lucky ...
"Too close. Too little time. How long to cut through those doors?"
...with the materials we have here? At least an hour...
"What about this ship? Can we get it moving again?"
...in the time we have? Not a chance...
Me, walking into a trap. How depressing.
"Okay, options?"
...death?...
"Not ideal. More options?"
...I have to be honest here Diz, that was all I had. I'm sorry. This is my fault. I missed the trap in the coding...
"Don't blame yourself, ghost. I'll do that for you. This is totally your fault. But if we live there's a good chance I'll be so relived I'll forgive you."
...the Cabal are in range to begin docking manouvers. They'll be onboard in less than a minute...
"Well then. At least we can have a little fun. I was getting bored anyway."
She stretched her neck, cocked here weapon, a thin smile on her lips. She felt relaxed for the first time since she had come aboard.
...they are docking...
A dull metallic sound echoed through the ship, followed by a second.
"Just remember you called me paranoid."
...this is it Diz. They're breaching the inner seals. 30 seconds...
"How many?"
...23 over the two ships. 14 legionaries, 4 phalanx, 2 psions, 2 centurions. And a Collossus...
"Glorious."
...Diz. Should we, perhaps, do something?...
"I'm thinking. Don't pressure me."
...they are inside, moving through the cargo hold. 20 seconds...
"Ghost."
...15 seconds...
They could hear voices now, coming closer.
"Ghost?"
...yes?...
"Can I get some music?"
...really, Diz? Really? 5 seconds, watch the door...
"Don't worry."
...3...
"I've got an idea."
...1...
... resume playback ...
Z : Well, what was the music?
D : I forget.
Z : You ... forget?
D : It must be my age.
Z : Of course. It's certainly an interesting story, guardian, I'll give you that. So how did you escape?
D : We all have our little secrets Commander. I'll keep that one to myself, for now.
Z : More lies, Diz? Unfortunate, but of little relevance. The ship is gone. Nothing there but debris. You stopped answering comms after this. Why?
D : I was ordered into an ambush. Set up to die. And you want to know why I wouldn't answer a call?
Z : I want to know everything, guardian. I need to know. And you won't leave here until I do. Eventually I will get the truth. The next time the Vanguard flagged you was a week later on Mars, two kilometres outside the exclusion zone. Talk.
D : It's funny, Zavala. 10 years you've been telling me to shut up. Now all you want to do is chat.
Z : The warlock, Tarrat. Tell me what happened.
D : What happened? He's dead. His ghost is dead. He was a fool and he deserve -
... foreground noise . ? . identify . immediate mic proximity . Z movement - (blunt force impact?) - D movement . analyse echo pattern . physical strike . ? ...
Z : I don't care what you thought of him. I don't care if you're in my custody. You speak about a lost fellow guardian like that again, Diz, and you'll never leave this room alive. Now tell me about Mars.
... holdplayback ...
Go back again.
Observe.
An artificial satellite, one of thousands in upper mars orbit. Inactive, as it has been for centuries. A dark metal oval, cold and lifeless, unseen against the night sky. Until a signal is recieved. Watch now. Fresh power revives long dormant systems. A heartbeat. Processing / communication / navigation / manuevering / defense. A mind comes to life. Eyes and ears and intent.
This is no longer just debris.
This is an Asset.
It is moving.
The hull shimmers as the cloaking systems engage, tiny compression thrusters fire in barely detectable bursts. The most advanced interplanetary ships in the system could pass metres by and never know it was there. This is Golden Age technology. It has been brought out of retirement for a purpose.
Here. The Asset is slowing, new systems spooling up, scanning the surface of the planet below.
Now. It has found it's target and focuses. Closer.
Through the clouds, leaving the cold and dark behind.
Past the mountain peaks, into the red valleys winding between the ruins.
Among the dunes, half buried by sand.
Shadows in the dust. An abandoned outpost.
On the top floor of one of the broken buildings, a guardian and their ghost. They work in silence, components of miniature stealth drive laid out on the floor around them. It would be big enough for a sparrow and rider, if they can make it work. Enough to help them stay hidden for a while longer. This is the warlock, Abdel Tarrat. His red cloak is filthy, his eyes tired. A damaged fusion rifle lies in the corner, his hand cannon still strapped by his side.
100 metres away, moving through cover, are another guardian and ghost. This is Diz. They have been looking for Tarrat. He is not yet aware of them. A dust storm is picking up, filling the air, blocking the sun, eating away at what remains of the ruins. The pair begin to climb in the faltering light, then move from roof to roof until they are directly above their target. They watch him through a shattered skylight.
Listen.
"I'm rapidly coming to regret this decision. Look at him. He'd be big for a titan never mind a warlock. He could squash me if I get too close. Like a bug. A tiny, tiny bug."
... you know what they say Diz, the bigger they are...
"The harder they pummel you into the ground?"
...well, yes, I believe Cayde did say that. But I was of course referring to the old human phrase. The bigger they are the harder they fall...
"Hmm. Not so sure about that. It's a bit general for my liking. What about mass? Inertia? Local gravity and angle of descent?"
...perhaps we should focus on the job at hand. We are only here to talk to him after all. Although his disappearance and subsequent behaviour are decidedly suspiscious...
"True. But it doesn't prove anything. Talk to him first. We just have to be ready."
...I am simply uncomfortable with giving away clear advantages in any potential combat situation. We have both read his record. Aggressive. Experienced. Crucible legend in his younger days. In a fair fight I cannot predict an outcome with any degree of certainty...
"I'll never lose a fair fight ghost. Because I'll never fight fair."
...that, at least, is a certainty...
Below them Tarrat threw a piece of equipment in frustration. He crouched, head in hands. They could hear his raised voice, the docile reply of his ghost.
"As good a time as any I suppose. Don't waste any more power masking us once I drop in."
...of course. I also have The Blade standing by in case this all goes horribly wrong...
"Your confidence is inspiring. Let's say hi, shall we?"
She dropped through the gap in the skylight.
you betrayed us
Tarrat froze as she landed. His ghost had cloaked almost instantly, leaving only a swirl of dust. Silently, he rose, keeping his back to her.
"I knew they would send someone after me." he spoke, his voice deep and steady, "But you? Very strange, very strange."
He turned, hands at his sides. Diz saw the glint of a barrel beneath the cloak as he gazed down on her, casting his shadow across the room.
"Who would send someone after you?" she smiled as she spoke but she was watching his eyes, his posture, the twitch of his fingers. By gods he's a big one.
"No games hunter. I don't play. Why are you here? Friends do not sneak so close. Assassins do. But you are talking not shooting. So talk. Or leave."
...he wasn't ready for us. He is trying to buy time. In his defence, it's the smart move. He knows nothing about us, or our intentions. If we are hostile he has no idea of his chances i 1. Let's play along and learn what we can...
"Will do. Hi. I'm Diz. And you, despite your size, were not easy to find. If I didn't know better I would have said you were hiding from something. Tucked away in these ruins, surrounded by Vex. But why would you be in hiding?"
"Last chance, little hunter."
"Impatient one, aren't you? Aren't we all friends here? So, here's a story for you. I found a ship called The Dawn Hush. It had, among other things, a dead warlock on it. Lyssa Arret. A friend of yours, I believe. Close friend. Last seen with you. Think you could help me find out what happened?"
Tarrat nodded slowly, a wry smile on his lips.
"No. Now get out."
"I'm sorry Abdel, but thats not going to cut it. The 4 crew were murdered as well as your friend. You said no games. I'm not playing."
The warlock moved, turning towards the table at the window. Diz tensed, hand moving to her side but he only leaned on the table, looking out across the sand.
"I know you." he said, "I've seen you in the tower, once or twice. Caydes Coward. That's what they call you, you know? What we call you, real guardians. Caydes Coward. No allegiance. No combat record. No-one has ever been on an op with you. Nothing but scouting missions."
...he is just wasting time, building his super. His ghost is trying to mask it but the energy levels are rising. Approximately 2 minutes...
"I know."
"What do you do for Cayde, little hunter? Where do you go, coward? I wonder. Have you ever heard us call you that?"
"No, can't say I have. Have you heard that ghost?"
...Yes...
"Oh. What, really?"
...all the time. It's embarrassing...
"Ah. Well I like it. I do. It's catchy."
"You're a funny one, hunter. And maybe brave, to come alone. Or maybe stupid. I don't have to tell you anything."
...I've tried to contact his ghost with no success, they are just feeding me static. Concerningly, there was a trojan code embedded in the signal, created to corrupt my defensive systems. I might have fell for it if I hadn't tried it myself once. I can play along for now. Lets push him harder. Use what we know...
"I understand." Diz moved as she spoke, off to the warlocks left, putting his weapon on the far side and the sun out of her eyes. "I'm not sure you do though. I'm not here to fight, Tarrat. I want to find out who killed these people. Who killed your friend. What happened on Venus? What was in those containers? Give me something."
The warlock sighed, gave one last glance to the sun then met her gaze.
"We all make mistakes." his voice was quieter now, dulled with pain of memory, "Often they look like victories until it's too late. We achieved what many thought was impossible. Controlling the vex gates, bending them to our will. But it cost my brother his mind. Then my sister her life. She was murdered, a million miles away from me. Alone. It shouldn't have been like that. Have you ever seen an avalanche, hunter? Not much to see, at the start, unless you know what to look for. I'm afraid. You would be too if you understood. Dead orbit is right. We have always been right. There is no survival here, not in this system. We have to flee. But not this way. This is madness."
...cryptic nonsense. We know all this already. He won't give us anything. His ghost has backed off. Nova bomb in 30 seconds. He's going to use it...
"That's a sad story. But you aren't telling me anything, Tarrat. If you are in trouble I can help you. It doesn't have to be this way. Who is after you?"
"You're wrong, little hunter. It has always been this way. The collapse was only the beginning. The whirlwind is coming."
...any second Diz. Take him out now. Diz. Take him out n - .. - ... - - ...
The sound and picture are lost to interference.
Twenty thousand miles above, the eye unfocuses.
The satellite goes dark.
In time, it will return to its original position.
Inert. Inactive. Invisible.
This is no longer an Asset.
This is only debris.
... resume play back ...
Z : Then we find you here, Diz. Today. In Hideos quarters. What were you doing in there? Have you lost your mind?
D : Well. That's a solid question actually, Commander. But how would I know if I had?
... file ends . exiting systems . running tabula rasa protocols . executing . exit complete ...
Every guardian knows this room.
Down the stairs and out of the sun of the courtyard. Past Eris and Shaxx. You see the light ahead.
It is quiter here.
As you enter the room itself you stop, just a moment to take it in. Men and women, Frames and guardians still come and go but there is greater purpose. This is the nerve centre of the Vanguard. You see the mountains through the glass at the far end, over Zavalas shoulder. He is talking with a maintenance Frame, looking in to a power outage in the lower levels. Ikora is here, head down, focussed on the report in her hand. Opposite her Cayde speaks in hushed tones with another hunter. He raises his eyes to nod to you, briefly, then he is back to work. From every wall you see monitors and comms systems feed the stream of information.
Everything we have, every life that remains of our race, owes it's survival to decisions made in this room. Made by these Guardians.
Someone is coming. You hear the sound of running feet coming closer. Others hear it too. A hush falls on the room, eyes turning as the runner enters, brushing past you. It is a titan, breathing heavily. He only stops when he reaches Zavala's side. Ikora raises an eyebrow. Cayde smiles, curious.
The titan speaks and in the silence you hear every word. Everyone does.
"The prisoner, sir. The hunter."
You know what comes next.
"She's escaped."