Don't look so shocked
Don't judge so harsh
You don't know
You are only spying
Everyone knows it's going to hurt
But at least we'll get hurt trying

Firewood – Regina Spektor

Morning, Twelve days after the attack; The Farm, European Dead Zone, Earth

Azra followed Veera back from the cove towards civilization. Perhaps that word needed mental quotes. 'Society' was not the idea that came to Azra's head when she looked at the Farm. Everything was so… temporary. The tables were all foldable, the road was just a dusty path worn through the grass, and there were crates and lanterns scattered everywhere. When Azra closed her eyes she could practically taste the heady desperation in the air, the sharp tang of determination, the drowning feeling of loss upon loss upon loss-

She shook herself free from the sensations and jogged to catch up with her Warlock companion. Veera didn't need to shoulder her way through the throngs of people; they parted before her like water before a ship. Azra trailed in the wake, shrugging under the uncomfortably curious eyes of passers-by.

The two made their way inside the rickety old barn and up the stairs. Someone had set up a nest of sorts in the loft- nothing fancy, just a pallet for a bed and a few tables cluttered with equipment. The view from the window was nice.

A woman was currently seated at one of the tables. There was not a whiff of Light about her, though she wore what Azra would classify as Hunter garb. Her brown hair was pulled back under a hood. Though her face was clean, there was dried mud in the creases in her boots and gloves, evidence of travel or work. Really the only thing that was missing was a cape. The stranger was fiddling with some old radio, but she stopped and stood as the two Guardians took their last few steps up the creaky stairs. "I'm all set here-" she began. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the two of them. "Who's this?"

"This," Veera said (a bit too imperiously), "Is Azra Jax. We spoke of her earlier. Azra," the Warlock nudged the Hunter with an elbow, "This is Suraya Hawthorne. She is the leader of the Farm."

The Mortal sized up the new Guardian, making no attempt to hide her skepticism. Azra had to admit her glare was pretty sharp. "Where's my comms link?" Hawthorne asked.

Azra scratched the back of her neck in a nervous gesture. "Oh. Uh. I no longer have it?"

Hawthorne rolled her eyes. "Great. What'd you do, drop it in the ocean?"

"… Technically?" Azra said. Spark had been holding it, and she had kind of dropped him into the ocean-

The Ghost appeared as if summoned by her thoughts. "Ignore that," he dismissed, "She's just being confusing. We just came back from a trip to the Last City- we left the comms device with the Resistance there."

"Felt like they'd have more use of it," Azra mumbled, self-conscious.

Hawthorne eyed the small machine with suspicion but took his explanation nonetheless. "Fine. Let's go. Daylight's wasting." She brushed past the two Guardians and grabbed a beat-up sniper rifle that was leaning against the wall. The Guardians looked at each other, shrugged, and followed her as she clomped down the stairs.

If Veera in the crowds was a ship parting the waters, Hawthorne was a needle pulling a thread. She moved through the throngs in that self-assured Cityperson manner. It left Veera and Azra hurrying to keep up.

People became more sparse as they approached the Farm's small airfield, allowing the two Guardians to finally draw even with the Mortal. She began immediately with a debrief. "I don't know if you want to bring a Lightless Guardian on this mission," Suraya began casually. "Devrim has the signal booster we need but he's holed up in some pretty hostile territory."

"I can handle hostile territory," Azra said. "And if he can survive-"

"Devrim is more than used to it. He didn't just get all of his powers taken away. Since, you know, he never had any to begin with," Suraya said coolly. "Even then, he's hiding in a fortified location. Fighting through both the Cabal and the Fallen to get to him? Might not be so easy. That's why we're sending the immortal Warlock in."

Veera shook her head. "You miss the point," she said wryly. "Azra has regained the Light."

"You, too?" Suraya asked, sizing the Hunter up again.

"That's not the point," Azra muttered. She'd survived the City even without her Light. The EDZ would be a piece of cake in comparison. She twirled a Solar knife between her fingers and noted the way the Human's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well," Hawthorne said lightly, "That changes things."

Twelve days after the attack; Trostland, European Dead Zone, Earth

The plan was to sneak through the enemy forces without raising too many alarms, find Devrim Kay, pick up the signal booster he had scavenged, and deliver it to Suraya Hawthorne, who was taking the short way around to the top of the salt mines. A simple enough mission on the face of it-

Or it would have been, had the Cabal not recently finished their fleetbase. They apparently objected to the Fallen presence in Trostland. There was already a minor firefight occurring when Azra and Veera transmatted down, and unfortunately neither the Cabal nor the Fallen were so invested in their own fight as to ignore two humans walking through.

So the two Guardians shrugged and did what Guardians do: blow up and/or shoot everything until it stops moving. Ask questions later.

When the dust settled, Veera finally got a chance to take stock of the situation. It was a beautiful day. Wispy clouds huddled on the horizon but none dared edge on the sun's glory. The sky was a washed-out blue. Leaves rustled in the breeze and old buildings and walls cast sharp-edged shadows on the street.

Trostland had seen better days. There were Golden-Age structures, even pre-Golden-Age ones, but they were in obvious disrepair. The Dark Age structures- barricades, mostly, some scaffolding and hasty shelters- were in even worse shape.

Veera took a minute to soak it all in. The sparse trees cast dappled shade. Crumbling stone and rusted metal were the main building blocks of this place, dotted with sickly-looking grass that wove between cracks in the pavement. In certain places nature was taking over completely, walls knocked over and floors grown over with shrubs while trees spread their branches where the roofs used to be.

She noted to herself that the bodies of Cabal and Fallen didn't seem out-of-place. If anything, they added to the décor. This seemed like the kind of street you'd find dead combatants on. Likewise, her companion did not draw eyes. Her gear was still tattered, salt-stained and dirty, but this was a tattered world.

She did draw ears, however. She was seated on the top of a low wall, swearing profusely as she fiddled with her sidearm.

"Do I stand out?" Veera asked, spreading her arms.

Azra took a second to look up from her work. Her eyes swept up and down Veera's attire. "You're purple," was all she said. Veera frowned and looked down at her robes. It was true that it was not the most natural hue, but she liked the purple. Surely yellow or red would stand out more?

"It's a loss," Azra announced. Her Ghost hovered low and took the gun from her hands. "I liked that sidearm." She seemed more upset at the loss of her weapon than she had at the loss of her Light.

"Do you have another?" Veera asked.

In response, Azra slung a shotgun across her back and scowled. She stomped over to the dead Captain, rooted around, and pulled out a Shock Pistol.

"It is just a gun," Veera soothed.

"It had dragonfly spec," Azra moaned. "Where am I gonna find another sidearm with dragonfly spec in these times?" She checked the magazine on the Fallen gun and grimaced.

A new voice spoke on the comms. It was a moderate baritone, accented and humorous. "If it's City-made weaponry you're after, you might just be in luck."

Azra spun and cast about for its source. Veera looked around with a more casual air. One friendly Human did not seem like much of a threat. She noticed the glitter of a gun's scope in the upper window of a building a few hundred meters away.

Azra had caught it too. She relaxed and swore. "Damn. You had us."

"Ah, I'd never fire upon friendly Guardians." There was a teasing air to the words.

"I assume you are this 'Devrim' we were told to find?" Veera asked. "I am eager to be moving."

"That would be me," Devrim confirmed. "Come on up and we'll see about the signal booster… and your sidearm. I scavenged a few interesting pieces off of some downed Guardians near Gheleon's Watch."

Azra had not been to this part of the European Dead Zone in years. It had always been a 'nothing living goes here' sort of Dead, rather than the 'going here is asking for death' variety of Dead. There just wasn't much of interest besides the Shard. Some old crumbling structures, broken roads; clearly a residential district with nothing worth looting.

Veera led the way towards their contact's chosen nest. He'd set up in an old church. It was in better shape than the buildings around it. The wooden structures inside had long since rotted away, but the outer stone walls stood firm. It wouldn't forever; already lichen crusted the rock and ivy plants snaked their way up the sides and over the roof. Young trees tested the foundations with their roots.

But for now it stood. There were even a few stained-glass windows intact, which Azra couldn't help but stop and marvel at. There was something to admire in the existence of something so beautiful and so fragile in the wilds. Entire cities had been laid to ruin in the Collapse, but these paper-thin panes had somehow survived their trials.

Veera dragged her onwards, up a ramp of gravel and dirt and on to a half-eaten upper floor. A quite well-established sniper's nest greeted them. A small cot in the corner, various bits of tech scattered on tables and the tops of supply crates. It had a bit of a ramshackle feel to it, but everything seemed functional.

The sniper himself was like his gear: old, but in good repair. He was trim and fit-looking, despite the gray working through his hair and the crow's feet showing around his eyes. He turned and leaned against the wall as the two Guardians made their way up. His grip on his rifle spoke of decades of experience.

"I saw the show you two put on there," he said in greeting. "Quite impressive."

Veera blushed, because of course she did. (You'd think a literal god-slayer wouldn't be so easy to flatter.)

"Devrim Kay the Eighth," the man introduced himself. "Former City Militia."

"I am Veera," the Warlock said, "Suraya Hawthorne told us about you."

"Likewise," the Militiaman said. "It is good to put a face to all the stories. I'm glad to have you on our side. Especially in these times."

Azra pulled off her helmet so the marksman could see her features. "Azra Jax," she said. "And that's Spark." She gestured to where her Ghost was busy taking pictures of the windows.

"Oh, no need for introductions there," Devrim said slyly. "It's quite an honor to meet a hero of Twilight Gap."

Twilight Gap seemed too close these days, despite the temporal distance. "The word 'hero' might be pushing it," Azra dismissed.

"I consider myself somewhat of an amateur historian," Devrim explained. "I've always been fascinated with The Gap. Your name does tend to come up. I'd simply love to ask you some questions-"

A Skiff scuttling by overhead cut him off. The three of them crouched in silence until it trundled on out of earshot.

"Another time, perhaps," Devrim said, seeming to collect himself.

"I don't know what I could tell you that a history book couldn't," Azra offered in apology. "I wasn't even three yet, then. I helped run tactical for bits but for most of the battle I was very ground-level."

"On the contrary, it's those smaller, more human moments I find where the real history lies," Devrim said. "Perhaps some time I will make you a cup of tea and you can give me your take."

"It's called tea," Andal explained. "Just sip it- it's hot."

Azra did so, screwing her face up at the unexpectedly bitter flavor. But there were things underneath it, motes of spices and subtler tones of flavors she had no names for, that turned the bitterness into something… more.

"Here, I can put some sugar in-" Andal offered, reaching for the mug.

Azra clutched it possessively. "No. It's good."

"…I'd like that," Azra said.

The militiaman shook off his reverie. "But for now, there's business to get down to. Suraya warned me you'd be coming through to pick up the signal booster." He turned to rummage through a crate in the corner. Azra took the opportunity to scope out the sightlines from his window. It had a commanding view of the plaza and the ravine.

"Are you quite done?" Devrim asked, humor tinging his voice. Azra had gotten a little carried away, halfway out the window and only one foot on the ground.

Azra nearly hit her head on the windowframe in her haste to get back inside. Now it was her turn to blush. If Veera was too easy to flatter, it seemed Azra was too easy to embarrass. "Good perch," she said, hoping brevity would cover her awkwardness.

Devrim seemed to be taking it in stride. "Thank you. I believe this might suit your needs?" He held out a small handgun, keeping it down and carefully pointed away from their feet despite the fact that it was obviously unloaded.

Last Hope

Remember what you fight for.

Azra took it and let Spark give it a thorough going-over. It did indeed have dragonfly spec, even if it was a three-burst model instead of the single-shot she usually preferred. He'd cleaned it but Spark could detect traces of its former owner's blood on the casing.

It's a hell of a lot better than a Shock Pistol, Spark reminded her. Azra did her best to school the thoughtful frown from her features. "This… will do. Thank you."

"You can thank me by getting this comms relay set up. Time is of the essence, I'm afraid."

Veera took the cue to go. "Thank you for your help. We will be back."

"You know," Azra said casually, "Unless we die. Or you die."

She got a hard elbow in the ribs from Veera, but it was worth it. Devrim winked and turned back to his window. Veera and Azra left down the ramp.

TYPE: LIVE COMBAT FEED
PARTIES: Three [3]. One [1] Guardian-type, Class Hunter, designate Azra Jax [aj]; One [1] Guardian-type, Class Warlock, designate Veera [v]; One [1] Ghost-type, designate Spark [s]
ASSOCIATIONS: European Dead Zone [Earth]; Hawthorne, Suraya; Jax, Azra; Last City [Earth]; Veera
/AUDIO UNAVAILABLE/
/TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS.../

[aj:01]: Me and Hawthorne aren't going to get along.

[v:01]: You have given up already?

[aj:02]: It's just an observation.

[v:02]: Resignation.

[aj:03]: A warning. I can already tell she's gonna get under my skin.

[v:03]: I would have thought you two would get along. You both have that…

[aj:04]: Don't look at me like that. We have what?

[v:04]: Well, that 'screw society' vibe, if you will forgive my language.

[s:01]: 'Screw' is a curse word?

[aj:05]: Maybe she meant 'society'.

[v:05]: You are getting away from the point. Which you brought up, I might remind you.

[aj:06]: Well, yeah. It's just that she's got a chip on her shoulder the size of Everest-

[v:06]: Well… she may not be wrong for having it.

[aj:07]: Hm.

[v:07]: But that is what I speak of. You have made your complaints about the City well-known. She has many of your same complaints. I would think out of everyone, you two would see eye-to-eye.

[aj:08]: But my pants aren't fancy.

[v:08]: … What?

[aj:09]: She thinks I have fancy pants.

[v:09]: You have shock-absorbing kneepads-

[aj:10]: Not literally!

[v:10]: Then what in Oryx's name are you on about?

[aj:11]: She already thinks she's better than me. She's seen I'm a Guardian and she thinks she knows everything about me.

[v:11]: Many Guardians have egos. You still fight alongside them.

[aj:12]: Yeah, but we don't get along.

[v:12]: You do not need to be her friend. We just need to cooperate.

[v:13]: The fate of Humanity is at stake.

[aj:13]: Fine, I'll stow it. Just be warned.

[aj:14]: Eventually one of us is going to get pissed at the other and it'll all be downhill from there.

Twelve days after the attack; The Salt Mines; Trostland, European Dead Zone, Earth

The open air was nice after the salt mines. Azra still had a slight dislike of caves, even after all of the years since the Vault. The two Guardians made their hasty way towards the summit. They'd scared the Fallen off for the time being, but neither was confident the aliens wouldn't return.

Hawthorne was happy to see them, or at least happy to see the signal booster. Veera stayed close, watching as the mortal booted up the system. Azra walked towards the dropoff and considered the view. It had taken them a few hours to fight their way through the mines and now they were getting into 'late afternoon' territory. The sun turned every reflective surface to gilt. The Arc storms from the Shard flickered in the distance. Azra figured come nightfall the sight would be very eerie.

Thoughts of the future turned her mood sour again. So, we set up the comms network, she mused. What next? Consolidate the evacuation efforts, of course. Then?

We hope the Vanguard gets in touch, Spark replied.

We can't sit around waiting for them. It's been almost two weeks.

That's not a lot.

It's been enough. Every day the Cabal get stronger and our chances narrow. I don't want to look up one day and realize we've been digging our own graves while waiting for someone to tell us what to do.

What should we do, then?

Azra was at a complete loss. Behind her, Veera and Suraya muttered to each other. Veera would certainly want to retake the City, but it was not something she could do alone. Azra didn't know Hawthorne well enough to bet on her intentions, but she hadn't seemed too enthusiastic so far at the mention of reclamation efforts.

And Azra- she was no leader. And she could fight until the sun died in the sky, but without a real plan forward she'd be accomplish nothing. And without the Vanguard, who would lead the way forward? Azra tried to imagine herself in a command position and was hit with an incredible pang of loneliness.

And then surprise. It seemed Hawthorne had finally gotten the network up. That was Zavala's voice coming out of the comms device.

"Guardians: The City is lost. If there is any light left in the system, we rally on Titan. Be brave."

She turned and stared at Veera, stunned. The Warlock looked elated. "Guess that solves our dilemma," Spark said aloud.

Veera's Ghost spun in excitement. "Zavala's alive! If we leave now, we-"

"You are NOT going to Titan." Hawthorne slammed her hand down on the comms panel. Azra jumped a little bit. She hadn't been watching the Human woman. Suraya was angry. "We've got refugees coming in, the Red Legion on one side, the Fallen on the other-"

"But we have our powers back!" Ghost interrupted. "And if we're going to retake the City-"

"Your City is gone," Suraya spat.

That stung. Spark remarked in that Veera looked hurt.

Well, if Hawthorne wanted to take the kid gloves off and get down to the harsh realities, Azra could play along. She hadn't realized she'd been moving towards Hawthorne until she was in the woman's face, nearly growling.

"You honestly think you can hold the Farm forever?" She was gratified to see surprise in Hawthorne's eyes- Suraya hadn't considered her aggressive. Azra tried to keep her voice cool. "You've got civilians, a bunch of Lightless Guardians, and a bare handful of Militia who can handle themselves in a firefight. You think you can keep the Red Legion at bay long-term, when the whole force of the City and its walls couldn't?"

Hawthorne looked ready to argue back, but Azra gave her no opportunity. "Face the facts, Suraya. You're living in the middle of a Dead Zone. The only reason you're all still alive is because the Red Legion hasn't really paid attention to you yet. They're focused on the Traveler. As soon as they get that figured out, you're all finished. They're not gonna just let bygones be bygones and allow you to continue existing. They'll bring their bombers, and warships, and their tanks, and they will roll right over you. You can run and hide all you want, but if we don't act now, Humanity's done for. Even if both of us stay. There was a reason we built walls."

Now was Hawthorne's turn to look stunned. Perhaps you could have said that in a kinder tone of voice, Spark murmured. She started it, Azra sniped back.

Oh, she knew she would regret this tomorrow when she had a full night's sleep (or whatever passed for one these days). So Azra pinched the bridge of my nose and let it go. "Here's what we'll do. Veera, you go to Titan. Set up the comms there so we can communicate. I'll hang back here and keep the Dead Zone from falling to shambles. Once you figure out the situation there, we can make better plans."

"You can't just leave," Hawthorne protested. "The people here need you."

"They may need me now," Veera said, sounding fearfully regretful, "but next week they will need Commander Zavala. And we will need the Speaker and the Traveler. The Light is a potent tool. We cannot defend this system without it."

Azra crossed her arms and raised her chin in challenge. "I will work to keep the Farm safe and supplied until we free the Traveler and take back the City. But I will not do it instead of."

Hawthorne's expression had turned stony. "Fat lot of help you Guardians have been. You know where to find me," she muttered. She grabbed her rifle and pushed past Azra, anger bleeding into all of her motions. Azra was set to follow until Veera grabber her arm.

"Wait," the Warlock said softly. "You know better than that."

Azra deflated. "Yeah. I guess I do. It's… so many people are depending on us, and she just wants to throw away the City?"

"You feel guilty," Veera observed.

Truth. "I'd love for that to be the future," Azra said. "This planet is our home. I'd be in joy if the people didn't need to stay cooped up behind walls. But that's just not going to ride. Everyone'll die."

"This has been difficult for everybody," Veera said. "Give her time. And give yourself time."

"I'm always quick on the uptake. I'll be fine." Azra cast a glance back at the horizon, the sun slowly getting lower. "We'll muddle along somehow. Humanity's at stake, after all."

"How do you do this?" Veera asked. "She was right. People need me here. How can I just leave?"

"You don't leave," Azra said. "You go."

"You know..." Shiro said evenly, "I miss you, but don't you dare let me shackle you with regret now. Too much is at stake. You need to go West? Go West. I'm the last person in the world who's going to tell you to stop."

Azra let the tension go. "I guess we'll have to wait and see what the future holds. Zavala's supposed to be out there, somewhere, rallying."

"I'll keep an ear out for that," Shiro said. "And take care of yourself. I want you back in one piece."

"Set your eyes on Titan," Azra encouraged. "Focus on what's ahead. Don't tie yourself down here."

"It may be too late for that," the Warlock muttered.

"It's never too late," Azra said in reassurance. She frowned when Veera looked stricken by that.

So Azra pulled her into a hug. The Hunter tried to memorize everything about her comrade- she shape of her arms, the smell of her hair, the cool brush of her cheek. Her light was singeing. Ozone and neon shop lights on the wet street, the taste of iron and ash. Veera had her Light. Both of them had their Light now, but nothing was guaranteed. This might be the last time Azra ever saw her.

This is not new, Spark whispered. And Azra had to admit that truth. This wasn't the first time she'd said goodbye to Veera. This wasn't even the first time she'd looked extinction in the eye.

Veera pulled back, but Azra grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. "Promise me," she said. "You won't feel bad. We will need this."

"Only if you promise me you'll stay in one piece," Veera said wryly.

"I'll do my damndest," Azra said. She wasn't in the habit of saying things she couldn't guarantee. "Be fast. And be brave."

Veera's ship sailed down from orbit. "Be brave yourself," the Warlock said.

"How are you going to get back?" Her Ghost asked.

"We don't usually leave our ships in the City Hangar," Spark replied. "There's a couple in orbit we can contact now with the system up."

Azra shrugged. "Or maybe I'll walk back. Who knows. It's a nice day." Anything to give Hawthorne more time to cool off. Azra wasn't looking forward to their next conversation.

"I'll be back," Veera said. "I'll bring the Vanguard. This will all be over soon." She was so confident, so full of Light and hope, that Azra believed her. Then, with an informal salute and a small cloud of dust, she was gone. Just like that.