And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around
All of his questions, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
But it's always darkest before the dawn
Shake It Out – Florence + The Machine
July 17, 2957, 02:42; The Last City, Earth
Joxer was still uncomfortable in his new armor. It didn't fit quite right, just a little too small in the shoulders, a little looser in the abdomen than he was used to. His old set had fit him like a glove. He'd designed it himself, shaped each piece by hand, reworked and repaired it so many times he knew every inch, every weld and seam, every chip in its paint.
The problem was that it was just too heavy for him now. His new gear offered less protection than his nigh-invincible plasteel, but at least it allowed him to run without exhausting himself. He had drilled incessantly over the past few weeks, both with his new armor and with Lightless fighting techniques. It had paid off in that he was able to move through combat effectively, but he still longed for his old plate and the security it had brought him.
He shrugged uncomfortably under the unbalanced weight of his cuirass and drove his shoulder into the Centurion. The beast toppled over, almost taking Joxer with it. The Titan barely managed to contain his momentum. He recovered and pressed his shotgun up to the pressure seals on the Centurion's helmet. Oily Cabal blood sprayed into the air as he pulled the trigger.
Around him: chaos. The assault on the City (predictably) wasn't going to plan. The Cabal had set up light-barriers that were impeding progress, dividing fireteams and corralling Guardians into killboxes. Suraya Hawthorne worked diligently to disable the forcefields, but she couldn't stop them entirely.
That was fine. This fight wasn't the main theater. They were here as a distraction, mostly, to keep the bulk of the Red Legion's forces at bay while the Vanguard took care of Ghaul and the cage on the Traveler. Only with the Light restored did they have any chance of retaking the City for real.
A Cabal cruiser buzzed by overhead, gunning for the center of the fight. Joxer dropped to one knee automatically, hefting his rocket launcher.
The Cabal could take his immortality. They could take his strength, his life even, but they could not take his aim away. That was pure muscle memory and intuition- not a Light-given gift, but a skill of his body and mind. He had had honed over many years of practice.
The launcher fit snugly against his shoulder. The screen for the aiming computer was cracked, but Joxer didn't need it. Decades of experience moved through him, adjusting his hands and body subtly to account for the speed of the Cabal ship. He paused for a second, letting the weapon settle more firmly.
He knew the shot was good before he pulled the trigger. The payload flew true and straight, hitting the right engine of the cruiser. The ship immediately spun out of control, veering rightwards and spiraling down into the street. The impact was so hard Joxer could feel it in his knees. Flames shot forty feet into the sky.
Little did he know he had almost just doomed all of Humanity. That revelation would come later. Now, another squad of Cabal trampled around the corner.
Joxer set the launcher down and picked up his shotgun again. A wordless battle cry tore from his throat as he charged the Cabal.
There was just this: the rapid beep-beep-beep of some alarm, a Ghost crying out, "Missile!", then the controls jerked violently under Azra's hands.
Then she was stepping down onto a rooftop, watching the Cabal cruiser she had just been flying pile-drive itself into the street. Veera materialized beside her. The Warlock, too, was no worse for wear. Azra blinked dumbly at the burning wreckage. There hadn't even been time to startle.
"Guardian missile," Spark reported. "Kind of our fault for flying a Cabal craft into contested airspace."
Veera stretched her legs. "I was hoping we would end up closer to the rally point," she said. They were several blocks out still. The height gave the two Guardians a good view of the bedlam in the streets. Below them, Guardians and Red Legion clashed. The City was burning anew, dotting the horizon with columns of tarry smoke. And above them, the Traveler's cage was complete. It cast a dim red glow on the rubble.
Veera's and Azra's Ghosts patched them into the Vanguard channel. "We are here and ready to fight," Veera reported.
"Welcome to the party," Hawthorne said in greeting. "Spectacular entrance. I'm glad you're alright."
Azra finally shook off her surprise. She surveyed the streets below as Hawthorne recited a sitrep.
"Cayde's setting up the teleporter, but Sylas, Ikora and Zavala are still caught trying to reach him. The Red Legion's using these energy barriers to make life difficult. I can hack into the grid and knock it down for short stretches."
Veera and Azra looked at each other and both came to the same conclusion. "We head straight for the Vanguard," Veera announced. "That is where the real fight is."
"Good luck," Hawthorne said. "Let me know if you run into any of those walls and I'll do what I can to help."
The streets were choked with rubble, so they stuck to the rooftops where they could. It felt wrong to just run by squads of Red Legion, but they did not have time to defeat every Cabal in the City. The fighting was desperate, house-to-house. Slow and without effective air support, the Cabal would normally be outmatched, even against Lightless Guardians. Their forcefields gave them a huge advantage, though, allowing them to pick when and where their battles happened. And the army massed for the assault had no reserves- forces of Humanity were few and becoming fewer.
So they ran: Azra with her Mythoclast, Veera with a Hand Cannon and a fist full of Solar Light. They hadn't crashed in a very convenient spot. It took precious minutes to weave their way through the destroyed skyscrapers. Waiting for Hawthorne to take down the Red Legion's barriers further ate away at their time.
Sylas, Zavala, and Ikora ended up reaching the rally point before they did. So too did the Red Legion. Azra listened to the battle on the comms with growing concern. Sylas was a fantastic fighter, but defending a point from multiple angles of attack was not an easy thing for one person to do. He was overwhelmed trying to protect three different people and the Vex tech at the same time.
Azra and Veera finally made it to the rally point, not a minute to spare. Veera tossed a grenade in front of them, shattering one Cabal's shield and blasting the other from the edge of the rooftop. Azra leapt over the stunned enemy, pushing ahead and letting Veera close distance on the Centurion.
The Hunter dropped lightly onto the balcony, taking in the scene at a glance. Sylas was dead, his Ghost hovering low over his body. There was only one Cabal left alive. Zavala was the closest to it, bracing himself against a low wall and struggling to stand. The Legionnaire slashed at the Vanguard Commander, tearing a rent in his armor and sending him toppling backwards. Before Azra could react, Ikora Rey unloaded her shotgun into the Cabal's back. It collapsed to the side. Ikora staggered herself and clung to a bit of railing, obviously spent.
Azra's eyes finally found the person she was looking for. A blue Exo was slumped on the far side of the balcony next to the Vex teleporter. Azra barely broke stride as she recovered from her jump and sprinted across the space.
"Cayde!" she yelled. "Jesus fucking Christ." She slid to him on worn kneepads, popping up into a half-crouch right before she collided with him. Her hands went to his leg (or what was left of it.) The Exo hissed in involuntary pain.
"You go on, I'll be alright!" he said, but it was obvious he was in some distress.
Azra gave him a quick once-over. He was missing his arm, too, above the elbow, but at least he wasn't losing fluids at a bad rate. "I leave you alone for ten minutes and you manage to lose two limbs. Traveler."
"I'll be fine," the Exo insisted.
Tevis had his helmet off already, so she could see how pale his face was. "I'm okay," he insisted. "I'm fine." That obviously wasn't true. He was sitting in a pool of his own blood.
He's not talking about that, Spark whispered. Tevis grabbed her wrist, looking her straight in the eye. He was collected. Ready.
Azra's face went pale. "Fine?"
He swatted her with his good hand. "Not like that! I'm getting me an arm-mounted rocket launcher. Say, mind if I borrow your old Gjallarhorn? Not related in any way. Just thinking to shoot up a few Cabal with it..."
Behind her, things were a bit more subdued. Sylas rose in a flash of Light, groaning and heaving himself up from his prone position. Veera had delt with the Centurion and was kneeling before the injured Titan Vanguard.
"We will free the Traveler," the Warlock promised. "And we will kill Ghaul."
"… Just one issue with that," Spark reported. He was trying to turn the teleporter on, without much luck.
"I got it set up, I swear," Cayde said defensively.
"That Legionnaire damaged it," Spark reported. "It's… not looking good."
And didn't that fill the air full of panic. If they couldn't use the teleporter, this entire assault would have been for nothing. Ghaul's ship was several hundred feet above them, protected by its own anti-aircraft cannons and a fleet of Cabal support vessels. The teleporter was supposed to be the ace up their sleeve.
Azra pushed it all aside in her mind and moved to crouch next to the dented Vex tech. To Cayde's credit, it had been set up correctly, but the bronze was scorched and crumpled in several places. The machine sputtered smoke.
Azra pried off the damaged plating as Spark scanned the teleporter more thoroughly. The shots had destroyed a handful of key components. Lucky for them Vex tech was decentralized, carrying out processes in tandem across the system.
"I… I can get you a charge. But only one," Spark announced. Azra began resetting the overloaded relays by hand. Spark was busy rerouting the power through what few connections weren't fried. "The system can't take more juice than that," he said. "It'll burn itself. But we can someone up there, at least."
Azra settled into a kneeling position, weight back on her heels. Their grand plans for a fireteam of six were toast. She had hoped that even if the Lightless Vanguard couldn't join them, at least she, Veera, and Sylas could go together to fight Ghaul. But it would not be so.
Azra looked up at the other two Light-empowered Guardians. Which one of them would it be?
Sylas already had an answer. "Veera. It has to be you."
The Warlock was much less sure. "By myself? I failed the first time I fought Ghaul!"
"But you have your Light now," Sylas argued. "You killed the Heart of the Black Garden, alone. If anyone can, it's you."
"I do not want to do this alone!" the Warlock cried. "I am not going up there by myself. We will find another way."
"Be reasonable-"
"Reasonable?" The Warlock swept an arm out in a grand gesture. "The City is on fire, again. We are to go fight a space rhinoceros to free our white orb god so it may grant us space magic once more. This is not the time to be reasonable!"
Sylas crossed his arms. "We are out of time to find another option. Out of all of us, you are the most skilled in solo combat. If it has to be only one…"
Options? Azra asked. Given time and parts, they might be able to actually fix the teleporter. Unfortunately, they had neither time nor convenient Vex machinery to scavenge. Not an option.
If they could steal a Cabal support vessel, they might be able to get close enough to Ghaul's ship to transmat. But the entire fleet was at altitude- they couldn't reach a Thresher or Cruiser any easier than they could reach the flagship.
If they sent Veera up alone, could she arrange another method of transport? Even if they found a rope long enough to dangle off the edge, climbing it would leave them very exposed and certain to be shot down. Setting up a transmat zone on the ship would allow them to teleport in from halfway across the City- but they simply didn't have any beacons.
Is there no way up? Azra asked. None? She was supposed to be an expert at resourcefulness. Look at the problem from every angle, use every advantage, any scrap of knowledge or power you had.
The Warlock sat up a bit straighter, taking in the view of the Farm, the tent City, and the Shard with an apprehensive eye. "In all honesty, this may be a good thing. The Red War has shown us our ignorance. There is so much out there that we know nothing about. There may come a threat someday that Light alone cannot defeat."
A very, very dangerous thought came into Azra's head.
Sylas and Veera argued in the background. The Vanguard were too exhausted to interrupt. Farther away, explosions, gunfire, and engines mingled together into a general battle din. It was like white noise to Azra. Her brain noted and catalogued the distant threats, confident that none of them were an immediate danger.
"I've got… a plan," Azra announced. "Maybe a bad one." Most certainly a bad one. Already nervousness sent her heart pounding in her chest. But Veera turned and looked at her, hope in her eyes. She had to try.
If it doesn't work, we might be dead, Spark thought. But if we don't go we might be dead anyway.
There wasn't much actually at risk here. If the disassociation didn't kill her, the Cabal would. And it was worth a shot. Azra stood and brushed the gravel from her knees. "I'll… I'll be up after you. But you have to go first."
It sounded so much like a lie. But Azra meant it. The half-considered idea was fleshing itself out in her head. They had the telemetry data from the teleporter. And it wasn't far. If it would work in any circumstances, it would work here…
"Azra…" Sylas began.
The Arcstrider shook her head. "I'm serious. And I don't have time to explain. But it's something to try, at least."
"You promise," the Warlock said.
Azra nodded solemnly. "I promise. But…" Best to cover their bases. "If I'm not up in sixty seconds, it's a lost cause."
Somehow, Veera believed her. The Warlock swept in and hugged her hard.
It was Azra that went in for a kiss. It was awkward, tasting of soot and plasma. Azra couldn't stop focusing on the cadence of gunfire in the distance and the reek of burning plastic in the air. Her hands itched.
But Veera's eyes shone brighter when she pulled back. That was enough.
The Hunter floundered for something to say. "Uh, if this is the last time I ever speak to you…" but she was completely at a loss. "Pretend I said something cool, I guess."
Veera nodded, smiling slyly. She slid on her helmet, expression hidden behind the featureless dome of her visor. Spark fired up the teleporter. It flickered once, twice, then held. Veera gave a curt nod to Sylas, to Zavala. She unholstered her Hand Cannon stepped through the gate. It flared brighter for half a second, then sputtered and died.
Azra turned to look at Cayde, still awkwardly seated on the ground as his Ghost tried to stop the loss of hydraulic fluid. Zavala was grimacing in pain with an obviously broken ankle from the angle of his boot. Ikora was utterly exhausted, barely hanging on to the handrail.
Sylas was standing: tall, sure, resolute. He shouldered his rifle and moved to help Ikora. He looked back and saw the obvious apprehension on Azra's face.
"I'll keep them safe, Azra," the Titan reassured. "Go."
Pradyth spoke sharply. "Go. Destroy the place. I will wait with the hope that you will be back."
"I could let you out right now," Azra bargained. "I could destroy the controls." Her hand went to the Sidearm on her belt.
"Don't tie yourself to me," Praedyth ordered.
"But-"
"You have your purpose, do not endanger that with foolish sentimentality." The Warlock sighed and leaned back from his door. "You said I will leave, someday. That is enough for me." A bit of steel entered his voice. "Or it will be enough. Go."
Azra looked up at the underbelly of the ship, drawing in a deep breath. Time wanted to stutter again. She held it with a steel grip. It would not slide. She would not allow herself to slip, not now.
In theory, Vex Teleportation made no sense. Vex traveling from Venus to Io should be flung from the surface of their destination by their high orbital velocity. At the very least there should be a lurch, pressure, something to indicate the change in momentum. There was no reason that tarnish and plant growth on a Vex chassis should make the jump, while the air or fluid surrounding it did not. The mechanics behind their time travel were bound to be even more convoluted-
Yet, at the same time…
"Where you are can depend both on where you were, and where you will be, and when you are, and when you were… You pull on the strings too much, the fabric starts to fray. I could draw you a hundred thousand maps and never come close to fully describing it. You understand the laws, you understand the Vault, but there just is no way for you to comprehend those laws. Unless you feel like burning your Light out and jumping off the edge of a chasm for fun." She shuddered a bit at the memory.
Arc energy and something else coursed through her body.
"If anyone asks," she said, "I got another charge out of the teleporter."
Spark calculated as if for a transmat, even though the distance was much too far. Somewhere, very far away, water echoed in meaningful patterns. The walls glittered with subtly shifting facets of glass. Space was tangled up with time. Being in one place and then another was as simple as breathing, being in one moment and then the next. She had been there. Now she was here. Next, she would be-
She reached for the future, loosened her grip on the present, and Stepped.
And suddenly she was inside. She stumbled for a second, unsure on her feet, before the world seemed to right itself. She took a deep breath of Cabal-filtered air.
"What was that?" Veera asked. Azra could hear the wonder in her voice, feel the curiosity dawning in Veera's Light.
Azra shook off the itchy feeling and turned to her Warlock companion. "Something I don't want to repeat," she muttered. Horror still twisted a knot in her stomach. If the Cradle hadn't been crossing a line, this certainly was. She put on her helmet to hide her uncertainty and settled her hood.
"I am glad you are with me," Veera said, "no matter how." She put a steady hand on Azra's shoulder. Her Light shone only in righteous determination. "Let us go end this."