In Which Azra Faces Reality


And the heart is hard to translate
It has a language of its own
It talks in tongues and quiet sighs
And prayers and proclamations
In the grand deeds of great men and the smallest of gestures
And short shallow gasps

All This and Heaven Too – Florence + the Machine


Something sat wrong with Azra.

Maybe it was just nerves. How could she relax, surrounded by such overwhelming force? These Fallen were tougher than the scavenging parties she'd clashed with in the past. These ones were waging a war.

Maybe it was the friction between her and Tevis. The older Guardian was short, terse, and bossy. Azra didn't know if it was normal. She didn't know anyone meaner, but she didn't know anyone nicer, either. She didn't know anyone. Her instincts said it was out of the norm, but she bit her tongue and kept her head down. She was a Dreg among Captains here.

Their first quarry didn't have the key. They tracked down another. Azra stayed in the back and hid when things got hot.

It was just that she and the other Hunters were too different, Azra decided. She didn't understand them. Why did they pile favor after favor on her? Armor and guns, protection… It was actively hurting them. Azra didn't know how she was expected to pay them back for it. They moved slower to wait for her, they had fewer options, less chances, because they were sheltering her. It was baffling.

They were similar in some ways. They knew stealth, and the cold, stark logic of survival. They held their knives like she held hers. They scanned for threats with the same slow, methodical turns she did. They were, for the most part, practical. It made the differences that much more stark.

Azra figured it out watching the other Guardians fight. She was ensconced in a tree, safe as long as she didn't draw attention to herself. Tevis drew a Bow of glimmering purple. It hissed and screeched. She was familiar with it, and that was a comfort. A small stretch of stable land to stand on. All of these team strategies, the comms system, the Solar Guns two of the Guardians wielded, those were new. But the Bow was not.

What settled wrong under her skin was the things that shouldn't have been new, but were. There were three Guardians in the group who used the Arc. That was the first thing she'd touched, the thing she went back to on instinct, it should have been her greatest connection to this group.

But when the short one (the tracker Shiro) called the Lightning to himself, it wasn't right. He flashed and flickered, sudden, violent death and hair-raising silences. He seemed to flit in and out of realspace. He wielded a Blade of crackling Arc. Not a Staff, like she did. Shaana, too, had a Blade.

Something wasn't right. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was them. Maybe it was that she thought something was wrong- this was only six other Guardians, maybe her Staff did not set her apart. Maybe, like Spark kept telling her, being set apart was not a bad thing among Humans. It certainly was with the Fallen, and that's all she had experience with. (She didn't know why she cared, in any case. She knew being apart, it was all she knew.)

The feeling made it hard to sit still, though. At least they moved a lot. It was a good enough distraction.

Currently, Azra sat in a natural dip in the ground while the rest of the group huddled around a communication node up on the ridge. From what Azra gathered, they were trying to make sure the key they'd found would open the door they wanted.

Well, she thought 'they', but Azra hadn't done much but cool her heels in cover so far. She killed a couple of Dregs who'd found her position once, but she didn't feel like drawing attention to that. These people had killed a Baron for their key. A few Dregs was literally nothing.

She sat in her ditch and kept her ears open. It was still, so Azra heard the other Guardian coming from a ways off. Perhaps he was being kind; Azra knew he could move with much more stealth than the leaf-crunching stride he used now.

She shifted to allow the black-clad Human (Andal Brask, she reminded herself) to hunker down next to her.

"How are you doing?" he asked. He'd taken his helmet off for the moment. The night vision on her visor gave every detail of his tanned face.

Azra didn't take off her helm. Maybe that was rude. Maybe taking it off now would be rude. "I don't know," she said in truth. "I don't know how to deal with any of this. It's… new."

Something crashed through the underbrush a few dozen meters away. Both of them tensed at the noise. Azra pulled out her Scout Rifle in readiness.

It was just a deer, though an odd, tiny one. Azra watched it pass.

Andal let its crashing dissipate before he spoke again. "So. Tevis. What's your read on him?"

His question startled her, so she answered without thinking. "In my limited experience, he's…" Her mouth shut suddenly. Insulting one of his fireteam members might make Andal angry.

"Don't worry," he said. "I asked because I wanted to know your answer. Nothing more."

"He's a bit of an asshole," Azra said. That just made Andal chuckle.

"Fair enough," he murmured back. "Why do I think I put you with him?"

"Why are you asking me all these questions?" Her grip on her rifle tightened, and she scanned the trees around them. Nothing, still.

"I'm curious. You're an interesting person, I'd like to know what you think of me."

She shrugged. "You're obviously too busy to focus on me." She knew leadership when she saw it. Andal had more important things to pay attention to. "I don't know anyone else, so I don't know why you didn't foist me off on one of them."

"Foist?" Andal questioned.

"Offload, dump, fob off. Foist," she repeated.

"You aren't being fobbed off on anyone," he protested. Azra gave him a look through the helmet.

He turned sheepish. "Ah, Tevis is rubbing off on you quickly," Andal said. "Alright. Yes, we would all rather you not be here. That's not 'cause you're annoying or anything. We'd just… this isn't a good time, or place, for you to be on your own. And frankly, this situation is so bad, I'm not sure even we can keep you safe. And when we're watching you, we're not watching our own backs."

"Feel no obligation," Azra said. "I've always been on my own. It'd be nothing new. I'd find somewhere to hole up, or some way out, and even if I didn't, it's not like-"

"We look after each other," Andal said fiercely. "Hunters do. I know you've learned the world is a harsh place. I'm sorry there hasn't been anyone there for you to lean on. But no. We're not going to leave you alone out here to die."

Azra didn't know what to say, if she should say anything. She shoved aside the loneliness that reared its head at Andal's words, turned to scan the trees again so she wouldn't have to see that care in his face. She focused on the feeling of the gun in her hands until the unsteadiness left.

Her mouth didn't get the memo that this conversation should end. "Why did you put me with Tevis, then?"

There was warmth in his voice. "So here's this. Shiro-" he pointed up the hill to the orange-cloaked Hunter still crouched next to the Fallen terminal, "Is newer than the rest of us. And a little shy. Plus, we need him focused on tracking. He's the best at it out of all of us, 'specially Fallen stuff. He wouldn't know what to do with you.

"Imir and Shaana," he motioned to the blue-gray Hunter and the one in camo, "I mean, they're good people, competent, but I just don't know them well enough to trust them with your life. Besides, they're not mine to boss around."

The helmet was not good enough to hide behind. Andal apparently saw her confusion. "They're from Dead End Cure," he explained, "A different group than the rest of us. They don't owe me any loyalty, personally."

"You don't fight like it," Azra said. The six Hunters worked as a cohesive unit. It was astounding to watch.

"Yes, they do," Andal said, shaking his head. "You can't see it, but they're not very familiar with us. I was surprised they came along on this hunt, in honesty."

"Okay," Azra said. What else was there to say?

Andal picked the conversation back up smoothly. "Cayde," he nodded at the beige-cloaked Exo, "he's friendly and good with people, but he doesn't exercise much restraint. He likes charging into things. He's good enough to get himself out of messes, but I'm not taking that risk with you."

That just left- "So Tevis." Andal shifted, putting his weight more forward. "He's old, experienced, and yes, he's a bit… prickly," Azra snorted at that one, "but he'll keep you living. He's only an asshole 'cause he's tired of all the social niceties, not 'cause he's a mean-hearted person. He just cares too much, frankly. He pushes at people. He lets up once it's clear you're not a waste of his time."

"That's not fair," Azra said.

"Life isn't fair," Andal replied, with just a hint of bitterness in his voice. "He knows it too well. So don't take it too personal, alright?"

"Sure," Azra said blandly. It was hard to believe, but she didn't need to believe it. She didn't even need to convince Andal she believed it. Eventually he'd walk away and Azra would go back to keeping her head down until it was safe to be on her own.

There was a moment of silence. Andal frowned. "You know, that's his favorite helmet," he said.

She'd been too lost in her own thoughts. "What?" she asked.

"That helmet. The one he gave you. It's his favorite one. Wears it all the time. I think the one he's got on now has a better motion tracker or something." Andal was looking her right in the face. She didn't think he was lying. "But he gave you his favorite. Don't think he doesn't care."

"…Okay," Azra said, meaning it this time. Tevis couldn't just not care, because he'd given her something important. Surely there was a less-valuable helmet lying around.

She didn't know how to process the fact. Maybe she shouldn't process it. It would make things too… complicated.

She thought Andal would get up, but instead his head fell back on the earth behind them. He was still for a moment. His eyebrows were pushed together, though his eyes were closed. He looked so tired. The vulnerability of it shook Azra. He took a deep breath in, held it-

"Okay," he murmured, "We can do this." The air whooshed out of him and his eyes opened, face set in a new expression. He stood up and offered Azra a hand. She let him pull her to her feet, but stood in place and watched as he strode away towards the rest of the group.

"He didn't want you to think poorly of him," Spark murmured. "Or Tevis."

"Why does he care?" Azra asked. "I don't understand that bit. I'm worthless."

"You're not-"

"Not, like, in general!" She smothered the part of herself that whispered yes in general. "What could someone like him possibly get from someone like me? I'm not rich, or powerful. What could I do for him that he couldn't do for himself?"

"He said he thinks you're interesting. Maybe that's it?"

"I don't think I like being interesting," Azra murmured. She shook it off and went to find the grumpy Nightstalker.


This was the plan, as Shiro-4 described it: They were hunting down Vasiks, Kell of Kings. The issue was, they didn't know where the Kell of Kings was. The last intel they'd gotten had placed her in their general area, but that had been several hours ago. They needed something more recent and more precise.

The one asset they had at their disposal was the location of a temporary House Kings telecommunication hub. If they could get inside and hack the system, they could use it to get a pinpoint on the Kell. They couldn't just blast their way in without potentially damaging the equipment, so they had to scrounge an access key off of a high-enough-ranking Fallen. They'd done so, and Shiro had checked the Fallen's login credentials. They'd have easy access to the system. All they had to do was get back to the hub.

The main spanner in the works now was the sizeable army between them and where they needed to go. House Kings was still moving troops through towards the City.

The seven Hunters tried to sneak their way in between a gap between two war parties, but their timing was bad. It was hard with no lookouts or satellite data, Andal complained. They had to guess, and they just guessed wrong. Now there was a significant Fallen force bearing down on them.

The ground they'd been trying to pass was a dry, rocky expanse on the leeward side of the mountain. There wasn't much cover or terrain to work with. Azra would have preferred to just stick with Tevis, but he ordered her to find a safer place nearby. Azra found herself a rock crevice to hide in and watch the fighting.

They were astoundingly good, all of them. Azra didn't know what Andal had been talking about. It was like they were psychic. The six of them moved smoothly to cover each other's weaknesses.

Mostly. Tevis seemed reluctant to get too far. The others pulled off more northward to finish off the last of the war party and Tevis did not follow. The spacing got a bit too open. When another Fallen party circled around and attacked from the East, he got cut off. On his own. Azra forced down the urge to jump out and help him, remembering his repeated, blatant, explicit instructions not to. He could protect himself, but he could not protect her if she got into his messes.

Or maybe he couldn't do either. They were too fast for him. Just too many. Azra knew, no matter how good you were, it just didn't help sometimes against numbers. Put down ten without them touching you, but the eleventh one would. And what if there was forty of them? A hundred?

Azra ran from odds this bad, but Tevis stood and fought. She didn't know the moment when he became overwhelmed, but at some point along the line, his determination turned into desperation, hands moving faster and faster as he shot his gun dry, reloaded, dodged Shock Blades and spears and blinked in and out of visibility.

But it was just too much. One of the horde got a lucky hit in, sending him sprawling, gun going one way, his helmet another. Azra caught a glimpse of dark hair matted down with sweat and blood. Tevis staggered to his feet too late.

One Vandal slashed at his back, leaving a tear in his armor and neatly snipping off his cloak. The other shoved a shock blade through his chest.

He looked down at it, surprise on his features. It was almost comical, such a mundane expression made by a face covered in the blood of a broken nose and a half-dozen cuts.

Tevis took one unsteady step backwards before his legs gave out on him. The first Vandal raised its blade to give a killing blow-

No. That was it. Enough.

She'd moved before she'd thought about it- instinct and need overriding any logical instruction she could give herself.

She didn't remember crossing the space, just the feeling of her shoulder slamming into the Vandal's chest, sending it flying. She reached out a hand just in time for the Staff, spinning to slam the other one in a roundhouse. It, too, went airborne.

One lunged to grab her, but the Arc coursing through her body killed it as soon as it touched her. She shook off the ashes and swung at the nearest Fallen.

Sloppy. And wasteful. She wasn't being smart, conserving her energy for where she would need it. Any one of the blows she was dishing out would break a Captain's shields- overkill for the small fish around her. Every hit drove her too close to exhaustion. But she was scared.

Don't let the fear control you, Spark reminded her. You control it. He was right, like usual. Azra relaxed and let the current flow.

The Fallen had seemed to move so fast in their swarming against Tevis, but that couldn't be right. They were so sluggish now, reacting so late. Half of them didn't even see her before she dealt them their deaths. They were poor dance partners.

Then again, wasn't everything?

The Arc ran out suddenly. Azra had been pushing herself, trying to buy time and to kill as many as she could. There was no smooth wind-down. One second, her nerves were singing a lightning song; the next, nothing. Like stepping into a hole you were expecting to be level ground. The surprise of it sent her sprawling, as if she'd stepped in a real hole.

She rolled to her knees, short of breath, hand going for her knife. Her muscles were screaming at her. Her instincts shrieked in fear.

There was a comforting sound- she knew the bark of Tevis's Hand Cannon by this point. A steadying hand fell on her shoulder.

She breathed a sigh in relief. She was safe. What an alien feeling, security in a war-torn field.

She looked up towards him. He'd retrieved his helmet; their eyes met behind their visors. "Thank you," Tevis said, not an ounce of sarcasm or judgement in his voice.

There were footsteps. Azra tensed. But it wasn't Fallen, it was the rest of the fireteam. Andal was in front, holding his gun in one hand and his own cracked helmet in the other. His bare face showed stunned curiosity. "What was that?" he said. Azra stood. She felt… uncomfortable, she decided. When had she become comfortable in the first place?

"We don't have time to talk about it," Tevis said. "Later. Maybe."

"We need to get out of here," Shiro said in agreement. "The hub isn't that far. I say we make a break for it."

Andal shook the disbelief off his face and held a hand out for his Ghost. The small machine took his broken headgear and deposited a new one in his hands. "Alright. Let's go."

And, like magic, that conversation ended. They just moved on.


The communication hub was dim, damp, and altogether too familiar. Azra had been in dozens just like it throughout Europe, scrounging for gear or trying to collect information on Fallen movements. This one was staffed by a meaner crew than she was used to, but the crowd she was running with was meaner, too. The fight was intense, but short. Then Shaana rolled the heavy steel door closed behind them and Shiro started pacing between the terminals with a glint of manic energy in his eyes. Spark went to watch, Tevis went about clearing a stubborn jam from one of his guns, and Azra was left alone.

Rather than stand there in awkward silence, she tailed Andal as he poked around. He didn't seem to mind. Where he looked, Azra looked with him, trying to see what he saw.

This is what she saw: A small space, easily defensible. Only one exit, easily blocked or hidden. Numerous nooks and crannies. There were some valuables here, mostly the transmission equipment, so the locks were well-constructed. There was some sort of… something, some odd tech, near the entrance. She'd need Spark to tell her more, but he was absorbed in whatever Shiro was doing.

Andal called his own Ghost. She scanned the wiring, but she didn't audibly speak. Andal hummed in thoughtfulness. "Imir, can you get the cloaking back up?"

The blue-gray Hunter ambled over and released his own Ghost on the tech. After a few moments, he nodded. "It's as simple as fixing a few relays. I'll get on it."

Once he started, Andal didn't stop. "Cayde, see if the Fallen got a call out. No use using this place if it'll be swarmed by backup."

"Gotcha." The blue Exo nodded and turned to one of the terminals.

"Shaana, any luck on securing some ordinance?"

"Plenty. Mostly small-scale stuff, but we would rig it together into something nasty if we needed to. Certainly enough to bring this place down."

Shiro hooted in triumph, startling all of them. "Got it! Oh, you beauty, Pace. I could kiss you!"

Andal smiled and slipped back on his helmet. "That's my cue," he said.

They'd found the Kell. Active signal, encrypted heavily, but one that Shiro's Ghost, Pace, could track with some stolen Fallen tech. Andal told her Vaskis had been a significant problem for the City, even before the war they were fighting now. The battle had brought her out of her usual well-defended haunts.

Andal began giving orders.

"Shiro, you're on point. When we get close, I want you to fall back with the rest of us. We'll need the element of surprise. I want Shaana up on a good vantage point before the fighting begins. Then Shiro, Imir, Tevis, you're on general crowd control. Me and Cayde will focus on the big guy. Or big girl, in this case. We'll set a rally point when we're closer, but this is the backup-backup. Hell comes to high water, we gather back here."

She knew it was coming. "Azra…" Andal said. He paused for a moment. Then, "sit tight here. We'll come back for you when we're done."

Azra opened her mouth to protest, but… did she really want to go Kell-hunting? Now?

Andal shook his head sadly, as if reading her thoughts. "Vaskis will kill you. End of discussion on that one. I'd expect this place to stay quiet, but if anything comes for you, send off an emergency ping. Run, hide. Do anything it takes to see you through until sunrise. We'll come back for you when we're done."

The six of them started for the door. One by one, they faltered. Imir's was just a pause in his stride. His Ghost transmitted schematics for the cloaking system to Spark. If the relays went down again, they'd be able to repair them.

Shaana Duri left a bag of grenades by the door and nodded wordlessly. She and Imir slipped out the entrance.

The other four doubled back. Azra thought she knew them well enough to see the edginess in their stances. They were anxious.

"Copy my map," Shiro said impulsively. His Ghost appeared to confer with Spark. "It'll give you a better idea of the terrain. Stay away from major sites."

Cayde tossed a submachine gun her way. "Not much use against Kell armor, but it'll give Vandals and Dregs a very hard time," he said as if it dismissed his act of kindness.

Tevis heaped on more gifts. "It'll get a lot colder before the morning comes," he explained as his Ghost transmatted a blanket, a few water bottles, and some strange rectangles covered in crinkly foil into her arms. "Don't light a fire to keep warm."

"I'm not an idiot," she said without thinking. He just grunted and moved towards the exit.

"That's him agreeing with you," Andal translated as he followed his companions. He paused at the door. "Worse comes to worst…" the look on his face was agonized, and worst of all, Azra didn't know why. "Worse comes to worst, try for the City. If it's still standing, the people there will look after you. If not, just get the hell away. You can't fight this."

And then he left, and sealed the door, everything was quiet.

She sat. Patience was not something she'd had a lot of practice in. Azra didn't do long stakeouts. She ran more than she hid. She organized her supplies and carefully, quietly scouted the structure until she knew every hiding space and nook.

And everything was quiet.

She set up in a corner, out-of-the-way, yet not easy to get trapped in. There was a chill on the air. The blanket was a good one, thick wool fine enough to not be scratchy. The little foil packets were ration bars of some kind. She ate one.

And everything was quiet.

She looked through Shiro's map. It was dazzlingly complex, if limited in scope. Who knew there were so many little tributaries in the mountains? Some of it, the fortifications and sniper nests, were certainly out of date by now, but there was so much information. She planned a few escape routes. It distracted her for perhaps an hour.

And everything was quiet.

Azra got up and paced the station again, measuring it in her footsteps. She dragged all the Fallen bodies off to one side. She wondered about setting up a trap at the entrance, but decided the element of surprise was worth more than whatever small inconvenience she could throw together and set on a trigger.

And everything was quiet.

She paced.

"You're antsy," Spark finally offered.

"I feel like a sitting duck," Azra said. It echoed in the still base. The echo sounded like a lie.

Because it was a lie. She felt safe enough, all things considered. She was in a very defensible position, and the Fallen didn't even know she was here. Spark had deactivated all the computers. They were radio silent. She had every advantage she could hope for.

But still, she was worried. It was an unfamiliar sensation. She felt almost sick with it. She wanted to do something. Here she was, lounging around, while Tevis and Andal…

"Why do I care about them?" she exclaimed suddenly. "I shouldn't. I barely know them. I just- how?"

"They kept you safe," Spark ventured.

"It can't be that," she said. She couldn't be that fickle. She knew she owed a debt, but to Fallen, that would mean more hostility, not less. She should hate them for the things she owed them. "It can't possibly be that simple."

Spark hovered before her in realspace. "It was that simple for them. That's why they were so nice to you. They cared."

It didn't make sense. "They shouldn't have." She was a burden on them. They'd decided to help her before they even knew her name. It wasn't right, that wasn't how things were supposed to work.

"That's not up for you to decide, Azra," Spark reminded her.

It was quiet. Azra didn't like the quiet.

Whatever there should be, she could not deny what was. She wanted to puke. They could be out there, dead or dying. For real. She could never see any of them again. Tevis had been gruff, but he'd looked after her. He'd given her his favorite helmet. Andal looked at her like… well, a real Human being. Like she mattered.

And now she was sitting here, a tight knot of grief in her chest because they could be gone. The silence in the hub was deafening. She'd gotten used to their casual banter on the comms. It had happened too quickly; she hadn't even noticed.

She didn't like it. She didn't want this turmoil. The more she thought about it, the more her heart seemed to tear itself out of her chest. What could possibly be worth this?

She was pulled out of her thoughts when, suddenly, it wasn't quiet anymore.