"So, Damask looks down his scope and he says: "Oh, that's the Captain? I thought that was the farmer's wife!"
Adama roared with laughter at his retelling and pounded the bar table. Cayde joined his laughter, slapping the Hunter's back and then Damask's. On Damask's other side, the Titan Zeke snorted into his beer. Damask grinned and shrugged, shaking his head of wavy black hair. He was soft spoken compared to his fireteam mates, but good humored all the same. Good humored for a Warlock, anyways.
"What can I say?" Damask shrugged. "She was a force to be reckoned with. She made quite an impression."
"Yeah!" Adama grinned, poking a finger on the tabletop for emphasis. "She about made an impression in Zeke's cranium when she caught him skulking around the windowsill where the pies were cooling!"
"I was just keeping the flies away!" Zeke protested. His sparkling hazel eyes and lopsided grin belied his excuse. "Anyways, nevermind me! She was gonna skin Damask if her daughter looked at him one more time!" He nudged Damask with a beefy fist. "Poor Damask had to hide behind a hay bale every time that girl found an excuse to come by!"
The friends erupted into gales of laughter again. Damask's narrow face flushed. He had a perpetually youthful look to him, with dark soulful eyes that never failed to attract attention. That attention always seemed to surprise him — even though it didn't always stop him from taking advantage of it. The Warlock had left a rather impressive string of broken hearts in his wake.
Adama laughed, wiping his eyes.
"This wasn't so much of a mission as it was a vidscreen comedy! That little skirmish with the Fallen on the edge of the fields was the only action we saw all week. Unless you want to count stepping in cow pies and helping the goodwife wrangle chickens."
"Don't look at me!" Cayde said, knocking back a shot of synesthete. "Zavala was the one who was convinced there was an attack imminent."
"It sure wasn't this farm they were after," Adama sighed, shaking his head. "This was about the most backwater establishment you could find and still be within the bounds of the Gap. Not even a Dead Orbit scrounger would be interested in it! If the Fallen are planning something, they're planning it for somewhere else. The ones we did encounter only came by to see what three Guardians were so interested in. Ha! Joke was on them!"
"Well, you done good," Cayde said. "You got ol' Zeke off his behind and exercisin' something other than his appetite."
Zeke raised a bushy eyebrow as he devoured a basket of steaming fried fish. Adama cackled and excused himself to go to the can and place another order at the bar.
Cayde sat back in his creaky wooden chair, stretching his legs out and crossing his boots at the heel, his hands behind his head. Damn, but it felt good to get out among people who understood him! His bad mood from before had long since evaporated from good drinks and good company.
Dolan's Place was alive and kicking. The hole-in-the wall bar was literally just that, a little tavern nestled within a section of the City's Wall on the eastern boundary. It was exactly the atmosphere Cayde was craving aside from the wide-open wilds: no nonsense, greasy food, potent synesthete, and filled with Guardians and citizenry who didn't expect him to act like a Vanguard at all hours. Most of the patrons were Titans who'd drawn Wall duty, but occasionally City security and nearby vendors showed up.
The owner and sole bartender was a wiry Exo named Fianna. Legend had it she'd bought the joint off of old Dolan years ago when he'd made his fortune in the mines and decided to retire. The name had remained despite the business changing hands. Fianna wasn't much for ceremony. Besides, everyone already knew it as Dolan's. Why fight a good thing?
The already lively atmosphere had gone up a couple of notches at Cayde's arrival. Everyone was surprised to see him outside the Tower. Fortunately for him, what happened at Dolan's stayed at Dolan's.
He looked around cheerfully, taking in the warbling jukebox and the vidscreens tuned to programming no one was really paying any attention to, the low-slung lamps and the equally low-slung necklines of the female members of the waitstaff. Fianna sure knew how to find a good-looking gal to serve her drinks. Good looking guys too, for that matter. Fianna appreciated a beautiful staff, be they man, woman, or Exo. Off to the side of the table, their Ghosts hovered, chirping and buzzing away in the Ghost language. His Ghost looked about as happy as she could be, blue eye bright and fins bristling with all the excitement. Yep, it was good to be back.
Adama reappeared and wove through the crowd with a server at his side. They bantered while they dodged an overzealous Titan arm-wrestling competition that spilled beyond the confines of its groaning table. The handsome young man set the drinks and Cayde's synesthete in front of them with practiced ease. Damask murmured his thanks, his dark eyes lingering on the server for a little longer than necessary. His face was going red again. Cayde raised a brow plate. Not more than two hours back in the City and Damask was already making eyes. Come to think of it, most of those broken hearts the Warlock left behind happened right after missions. He would be willing to bet Damask wouldn't be spending tonight alone. If that server didn't fall for him, there was surely a line of hopefuls stretching out the door that would wait for their turn.
"Tell me about this lecture of yours, Cayde," Adama said, taking his seat and snatching up his beer. "I still can't believe Zavala or Ikora let you out of their sight. Mighty trusting of them to let you prowl alone."
"I'm not alone," Cayde sighed. "They put as good a watchdog on me as any."
"Little princess over there doesn't seem to be too strict about your choice of overnight accommodations." Adama nodded toward Cayde's Ghost.
"Oh, it wasn't her they charged," Cayde said, drawing out the reveal. He anticipated their reactions were going to be worth a laugh or two. "You'll never guess who. Not in a million years."
"What? You manage to get Holliday to come along?"
Cayde grunted, spinning his synesthete glass around on the tabletop. Adama liked to tease him about the shipwright. The guys were looking for things that weren't there. Although lately, every time he and Holliday met, he always left feeling that she had wrapped him up in his own cloak and spun him around like a top. Of course, he wouldn't ever tell that to Adama.
"Nah. That would be too kind. Guess!"
Adama, Zeke, and Damask exchanged glances. Adama shrugged.
"Rahool." Cayde dropped the name like a ton of bricks. He looked around the table with satisfaction at the results.
"The Cryptarch?" Adama spluttered. He looked like he would believe tales of a tap-dancing Thrall over what he'd just heard. Damask shook his head pityingly. Zeke chortled through a mouthful of fish, pointing at Cayde like the very idea of Rahool accompanying him on this trip was the funniest joke in the world. Cayde supposed it kind of was. But funnier to someone other than himself right now.
"The Master Cryptarch is babysitting Cayde-6?" Adama cried, waving his hands in the air and nearly smacking a couple of passerby in the face. "You ditched him first thing, right?"
"Eventually."
His friend's looks were dubious.
"What? I had to make sure he was all settled in at the College. After all, they put me in charge of watching him."
"Smart." Damask nodded. A knowing smile tugged on the corners of his lips. "Ikora's learning."
"Learning?" Cayde echoed. "What're you talkin' about?"
"No better way to keep Cayde at a task he doesn't want than to butter him up and make him think he's the only one for the job." Zeke grinned at Damask.
"The only one for…hey, wait a minute! You guys have got it all wrong!" Cayde protested. "I just stayed at the College 'cause I had to play along a little bit. That's the only way I could get any freedom to come and see you sad sacks tonight!"
"Uh huh," Adama snorted, taking a long drink of beer.
"I was wondering why you weren't in the field with us two minutes after Adama sent that message," Damask said.
"I told you, I was busy!"
"Rahool isn't gonna come barging in here and drag you back to the ship, is he?" Zeke grinned.
"Pfft! No way!" Cayde snorted. "Rahool's allergic to a place like this! Besides, I left him at a hotel. He's busy with those Cryptarchy exams and probably has forgotten all about me by now."
"Too bad," Adama grinned. "I'd pay good glimmer to see that confrontation."
"You wouldn't laugh if you knew what it was like," Cayde grumbled. "I can't take two steps without him immediately becoming suspicious."
"I can't imagine why," Zeke said sweetly. "Our buddy Cayde is just as meek and mild as a Resting Ghost on a hot afternoon. Never puts a foot out of line."
Damask and Adama chuckled. Cayde answered with a not so polite gesture. It only made them laugh harder.
"What I really don't understand is why Ikora and Zavala sent you to give the lecture on staying within the Walls," Damask said after their mirth had calmed down and they had wet their palates with their drinks.
"I'd call it a joke," Adama said, "But I think Ikora really wants it done. I saw the event announcement on City news coming back into the Walls."
"Oh, she's definitely mocking me," Cayde said, toying with his glass again. "I'm sure she and Zavala figure I'll eat crow throughout the speech, gettin' folks all fired up to do their civic duty and whatnot."
"And what's Rahool's role in all this?" Zeke asked.
"The Cryptarch? He's the failsafe in case I decide puttin' up with lectures on captivity is tolerable. He ruins my fun so I don't look forward to anything but reports and requisitions in the Tower from here on out."
"That's a heck of a conspiracy you've got going on there," Adama mused.
"Wonder if Ikora's evil scheme will work?" Zeke grinned.
"You know what you're going to talk about?" Damask asked.
Cayde shot him a dirty look. The Warlock couldn't have known that Rahool had needled him on that very point. That didn't make the question any less exasperating.
"Near enough," Cayde said. "I've got some notes scribbled down. It can't be that hard. Just go in, say my piece, and be done. Folks can do with it what they will."
"How inspiring." Damask's tone was dry.
"Why'd you take the job if you don't really want to do it?" Zeke asked. He actually sounded sincere, for once not ribbing Cayde. "They could have found someone else eventually."
"I had to take what means of escape I could get," Cayde said. "I'll put up with this mess if it means a few hours outta that Tower."
"It's the Vanguard Dare all over again," Adama mused.
"Nah. That's different." Cayde looked Adama square in the eyes. "You know that. The Vanguard Dare really is duty. This is just…I dunno." He shrugged and took another drink of the synesthete. The mood went introspective around the table.
"This is just you looking for a good time," Adama said. "They keep you busy up there with distractions, and keep you away from the real work. It's not right." That was perhaps more ribbing, but it was also his way of apologizing to Cayde for poking fun at the Dare.
"Do you have to go right back to the Tower after the speech?" Damask asked.
"You betcha. At least, if ol' Rahool has his say."
"Why don't you set him on a jumpship back to the Tower and join us?" Zeke asked. "We're planning on a sweep of a couple other farms."
"I piloted one of the Tower transports to the College," Cayde said. "Rahool would be stranded. Not that that's my problem, or anything."
"So commission another pilot," Adama suggested. "I bet there's a Security Frame that could handle the transport. I could ask around here."
"Let's not worry about that right now," Cayde said, raising a hand to get the attention of Damask's server friend. "I don't wanna talk about work anymore. The night is young! C'mon, tell me more about this comedy of errors I sent you on…"