Chapter 5: The Dark Within

Whisper stood in a large field. She looked around, confused at how she'd gotten there, wherever 'there' was. The field was set on a large flat plane framed by distant mountains serving as a backdrop for the golden millet before her. Above, the sun was shining down in a glorious display of summer.

She stepped forward, reaching out her hands to feel the grain on her fingertips, then noticed a large black tower brooding over the peaceful scene. Dark storm clouds rolled over the horizon, roiling with lightning. Shapes appeared at the foot of the tower, then more, and even more, swarming towards her like ants from a hive, and they were screaming in anger or fear, approaching closer and clo—

Whisper snapped awake as a bolt of lightning roared into a stupendous wave of thunder. She startled, mind struggling to grasp her situation, and almost fell off the Tower, feet slipping on slick stone under the tempest of rain. Then she stabilized, stepped back, and took stock.

The downpour and black clouds made it difficult to tell how much time had passed, but her chronometer was as precise as ever, indicating that four hours had elapsed since she'd fallen asleep. She held out her hands curiously—she felt the tiny impact as droplets splashed across metallic skin, felt the tactile response of a wet surface, but she didn't feel wet. There was no discomfort as water slipped down her neck, no shiver at the temperature variance. She was soaked, yet it wasn't the rain that had woken her but the sound of thunder.

She considered a moment longer, shrugged, then moved to head indoors. There wasn't much point in getting soaked or discovering whether a ghost could survive a lightning strike.

It was quite early for flesh-and-blood folks, but quite a few exos seemed to still be awake. She noticed one behind what seemed to be a store front nestled into the corner next to the office where the Vanguards worked, both pretentiously and accurately named the Hall of Guardians. Though like all exos he looked fairly human, this one seemed to have been made with less emphasis on matching a human appearance. Spiky antennas jutted out of his blue head randomly, framed around a bright yellow plate where a human's forehead would be that looked orange in the pale light of the shop. Beneath a loose grey outer jacket she could make out oversized muscle servos. The exo confidently manipulated a long-barreled rifle with matching yellow hands. She approached quietly, curious.

After a few moments he noticed her. "You're a quiet one, aren't you? A hunter, I'd wager. Have we met?"

She shook her head.

"I see. I'm Banshee-44."

"Whisper-0. I'm looking for somewhere to repair my ghost's shell."

The exo laughed. "Zero, huh? Never thought I'd live to see the day when I met my opposite. Uh, we haven't met before, have we?"

Whisper shook her head once again.

"Well, let me take a look. I should be able to fix him." Blabber popped out nervously, and after some coaxing, submitted itself to Banshee's inspection. "Hmm, a little carbon scoring here. Not a problem." The exo began to work on the shell, carefully grinding down the damages edges and filling in the cleaned out edges with glimmer than transformed into sturdy metallic frame.

Whisper nodded towards the rifle he'd been working on. "You're a gunsmith?"

"The gunsmith, unfortunately. It would be nice to share the load with someone that didn't forget half the orders."

Whisper took a step closer, standing next to the counter. "I don't understand."

Banshee passed back the repaired Blabber and examined her more closely, taking in the basic armor she'd received from Cayde. "You are more freshly risen than I thought. The higher the number, the more times an exo's memory was reset. Something to do with stabilizing personalities—I'd tell you more, but I forgot."

Whisper waited, unsure if he was joking.

Banshee sighed. "Look, word of advice? Fidget. Switch weight from one foot to the other, move your elbow joints a little, or lean against something. It will make non-exos more comfortable, though they usually don't realize why."

Whisper considered it, then shrugged and leaned against the counter. There was no sense of relief, no muscles relaxing, though she wasn't sure why she'd expected it. It also compromised her balance, slowing potential reaction times to threats, making weapons harder to reach.

The old exo nodded approvingly. "A good start. Watch human posture for a while and you'll see what I mean."

"I… see. But I still don't understand why you are the only gunsmith if guardians are so involved in combat."

"We have recovered enough Golden Age technology that simple replication is not a concern. The biggest industry in the City is arms manufacturing; there's Omolon, SUROS, and, uh… a bunch of other ones. Point is, the basic stuff for frames and civilians is covered, and they're starting to get the hang of putting together higher quality weapons. I do the hard things, high-end custom gear, the stuff that you need specialized components to make that glimmer can't substitute for. Taking a Golden Age technical readout and turning it into a template weapon, then customizing the result to a guardian's preference, that's my job."

"So once the design is out there, any of the manufacturers can make something?"

"Yep, once it's in the library."

Whisper nodded slowly. "And where is this library?"

"It's accessible from any terminal, and for exos, wirelessly. Look through your internal console command's and enable your wireless connections."

The menu appeared the moment she thought about it and she enabled the connection. Instantly hundreds of connection nodes appeared in her HUD and she could feel an ocean of information flowing back and forth while she stood at the store in relative quiet. She reached out and plucked an information stream and followed it back to a storage source with an incomprehensible amount of data.

"I would avoid getting lost down that endless journey, at least for the time being. I can help you find what you're looking for. Have you given any thought to your weapon loadout?"

Whisper backed away from that endless well and ticked off the wireless—it was far too much information for her to think about now. And while she hadn't really given a lot of thought to her weapons, distracted as she was at the discovery that she was an immortal killing machine, it was a good question.

"I… don't think my weapon mix is ideal."

"A curious way of putting it. What are you using?"

"A Khvostov 7G-02 auto rifle, a Calcutta-LR2 sniper rifle, and a…" she paused to check, "a Helios FR4 fusion rifle."

"And," added Banshee, "a shock blade." He considered her closely once again, taking in her height, hand size, and overall mass. He muttered to himself as he moved and measured, then nodded. "I can't be certain without seeing you in the field, but I suspect you're right. You move well, which will lead you to engagements at more extreme ranges, both short and long. An auto rifle is a fine general-purpose weapon, but it's inaccurate at range, and the closer you get the more the barrel length and weight will cause problems."

Whisper vividly remembered being unable to aim the auto-rifle while pinned by Riksis and nodded.

"As I suspected. Normally I hand out some basic models to new guardians, like a Marshal-A auto rifle to replace that ancient Khvostov, a Psi Umbra I pulse rifle or Trax Callum I scout rifle for medium range, or a Duke Mk. 10 hand cannon for closer range."

"Don't you mean a revolver?"

Banshee chuckled. "Guardians, even human ones, are a lot stronger than they were in life. And exo's are even stronger than most, though I wouldn't try arm-wrestling a titan. Hand cannon is a little more accurate description these days. The point is, a submachine gun will serve you better at the type of range you'll probably be working with wandering the wilds. Most guardians want the firepower over the maneuverability, but I don't think you're like most guardians. Given your build and size, I'd recommend an Omolon-built Sorrow MG2. The sniper rifle seems like a natural fit but let me know how you like the Calcutta. As for the fusion rifle… it is a precision weapon, which many hunters prefer, but it fills the same niche as the sniper rifle and leaves you without area denial. And one of the more underestimated dangers to guardians is getting swarmed under. Hmm… how about this? For your 'oh uh' moments, you'll want something big and nasty." He leaned down behind the counter and pulled out a large, tube-shaped weapon. "The Baron RS/1, your basic shoulder-fired, general purpose unguided explosive launcher."

Whisper nodded in agreement at his analysis and Blabber transmatted the rocket launcher away while Banshee turned towards a nearby fabricator which, after the addition of sufficient glimmer, was rapidly generating the frame of a weapon, and dropped it into Banshee's waiting hands. He handed the thin, grey-on-grey SMG to her.

"Thank you, Banshee."

"Of course. Just remember that some more advanced weapon designs take more than glimmer to manufacture, so come back if you find one of those more exotic weapons. Now, why don't you head around the counter and through that door—there's a gun range to give them a try."

Whisper took his advice and moved to the range, pulling out the SMG, while Banshee followed to watch. She took a slow steadying breath without realizing it and leveled the weapon. As Banshee noted, it was significantly lighter than the auto rifle. She aimed down the sights and tapped on the trigger, sending out a three-round burst. The recoil was roughly the same as the auto rifle due to the frame's lighter weight and the higher rate of fire, despite the lower caliber of bullet. She tapped again, then again, then held down the trigger, quickly burning through the rest of the clip.

Banshee spoke up again from behind her. "The recoil is higher, but at closer range that's less important than putting out as much damage as quickly as possible." Banshee, unfortunately, wouldn't let her try out the sniper rifle or rocket launcher, as no amount of soundproofing would keep that from setting off alarms, but all-in-all Whisper was pleased as she took her leave of the exo as the sky was growing lighter, hinting at the approach of dawn. The storm clouds had moved off, and the air smelled clean and fresh.

"Oh, one last thing. Guardians using Fallen weapons makes us look bad. Take this."

Banshee tossed Whisper a knife. She caught it out of the air and looked at it—razer sharp, but rugged and utilitarian. She nodded her thanks and replaced the shock blade at her side, handing over the captured weapon to the gunsmith before walking away.

Blabbermouth, who Whisper suspected had been keeping silent just to prove he could, finally couldn't hold himself back and spoke up. Now you're armed and ready to go.

"Not yet. I want to get a feel for the City and what it is I'm supposed to be fighting for. Come on, let's take a look."

They made their way down various levels until they hit the main lift, which lowered them down to the ground level. Whisper pulled up the information from Chester's file on the City and skimmed it.

The City itself was quite large but broken down into zones. The Core was directly under the Traveler itself, and seemed to be the most exclusive district, housing the Hall of the Consensus. Surrounding it were Core North, Core South, Core East, and Core West, which was where members of the Consensus stayed. Further out were numerous other districts, from the Botza District, the Military District (home to something called the Future War Cult), the Peregrine district, and on and on it went.

She chose one at random and started walking, more comfortable with the much smaller crowds at this early hour. The buildings were tightly packed and tall, with layers of housing intermingled with hydroponic garden plots growing food. She kept wandering until she found a small park for children to play in. A set of makeshift swings sat next to a sandbox, surrounded densely enough by plants that you could try to forget you were in the middle of a city.

She paused, a flicker of recognition passing quickly. Swings… had she once known swings? After a moment she stepped over and sat in the swing to see if anything else would happen. Nothing did. She gently pushed herself backward and forward with her heels, watching the morning travelers go by and thinking.

There were a lot of them, most dressed in patched but high-quality clothes, with a lot of work overalls. Off to work in the foundries? She pulled up the library and ran a search. Banshee wasn't kidding—arms manufacturing was the predominant City industry. There were four primary foundries: Häkke, focusing on precision weapons with a white and orange color scheme, Omolon making a mix of precision and sturdiness with a blue and grey color scheme, SUROS emphasizing high fire rate with a white and red color setup, and VEIST, similar to SUROS but with a black and green pattern.

But that was just the major foundries. There were many, many minor foundries: Cassoid for starters, Tex Mechanica, which made shotguns and hand cannons, Daito, which made her Calcutta-LR2 sniper rifle, Crux/Lomar, which focused on rocket and grenade launchers, Nadir, and on and on it went.

Her search was interrupted as a small human child entered the playground, dropped off by parents that walked rapidly towards work. The girl stepped forward with the courage of youth, brown pigtails bobbing with each step.

"Hi. My name's Emilia. What's yours?"

Whisper blinked, taken aback by her boldness. "I'm Whisper."

"Nice-ta meetcha Whisper!" Now established as friends, Emilia hopped onto the swing next to her. "I haven't seen you before. Did you get kicked out of your house too?"

"Uh, no, I'm just… passing through, I guess. How did you lose your home?"

Emilia started pumping her legs, getting the swing moving. "The normal way. One of the factions said our building was only for members now, so we're moving."

Whisper didn't know what to say to that. "Uh… do your parents bring you here often?"

"Yup, every day. It's not bad though. I can almost pretend I'm outside the walls. What do you think it looks like out there?"

"It's… well, it's really open. Lots and lots of space. Mountains, hills, lakes, forests, just… outside stuff. At least, that's what I've seen."

Emilia stopped swinging and turned to face her. "You mean you've actually seen the outside? How!?"

"Well, I went up onto the wall and looked."

Emilia sighed dramatically and went back to swinging. "Don't be silly. I might be just a kid, but I'm not stupid. Only guardians can go up there."

Whisper blinked. "What makes you think I'm not a guardian?"

"Guardians are special. They have the Traveler's magic. You look at them and you just know, right? You're just a person."

"Oh? Seen a lot of guardians before, have you?"

"Well… no. But I almost saw one once when my parents had to make a delivery by the gate. I was so close!"

The quiet dragged on as Whisper sat there, unsure of what to say while the muffled sound of the City wafted over them, matched by the squeaking of the swing as Emilia went back and forth. "Well, it was nice meeting you Emilia, but I should probably get going now."

"Bye!"

Whisper left the encounter with Emilia vaguely disturbed, though not sure why.

So, can we get back out there now?

Whisper rolled her eyes. She shared Blabbermouth's desire to get back out of the City, if not for the same reasons. She still wasn't sure how she felt about this whole guardian thing, but she was feeling the need to get outside the walls again, to be in the open country exploring. "Alright, Blabbermouth, but where exactly do we go?"

Checking the Tower's net for reports… it looks like the map we found of Fallen patrols has the Vanguard concerned. The Fallen are keeping a pretty tight guard on the old Skywatch; it could be one of their leaders is there, or maybe they found something valuable.

Whisper sighed. At this point, one spot was as good as another, so she started walking towards the hangar.

Blabbermouth flipped the Arcadia class ship to autopilot and transmatted them down to the ground within the Cosmodrome a short way from Skywatch. If the Fallen had more of whatever anti-aircraft weapons they had used to shoot down Ellis Ren she wanted to learn about them with her feet firmly on the ground, not in the air. She managed to land with only a slight stumble this time and quickly took in her surroundings. They were back within the Cosmodrome's fortress walls on a series of steppes, and there were no Fallen in the immediate area.

Okay, the Skywatch is just on the other side of that ridge. And it's surrounded by Fallen. Well, I'm ready if you are.

Whisper shrugged, swapped the SMG for the sniper rifle, and started moving forwards. For once walking unimpeded, she took in the Cosmodrome once more and was impressed more than ever by the incredible size and the unfathomable amount of time and resources that had gone into building it. The Cosmodrome could hold a dozen copies of the Last City within its walls, and that was to say nothing of the uncharted depths beneath it.

The overcast sky began to snow lightly as she carefully crested a low rise and took in the layout before her. Dozens of rusted-out aircraft were strewn across the steppes, their large metal wings bent or broken, ancient turbine engines stripped bare. And there, crawling in the remains of one of the old planes and pulling out electrical wiring was a Fallen patrol. A handful of vandals kept watch while the dregs did the cutting, all under the watchful eyes of a captain.

There it is, up the hill behind the Fallen. The building with the radar dish—that's the Skywatch.

Whisper considered the layout carefully. She could get around the patrol fairly easily, but there was no telling how many other scavenging teams were out there, and the thought of walking straight into another patrol down among the wrecks, with another patrol behind her was… unappealing. No, in this case, it was probably safest to take the direct option.

She lay prone on the cold ground and leveled her sniper rifle, taking aim at the Captain, then hesitated. Up until now she'd fought solely in self-defense, but this… this was something different. This was going on the offensive, delivering targeted death to the Fallen simply because they were in her way.

What are you waiting for?

She pulled her eye off the scope. "These Fallen… why am I justified in killing them like this?"

Blabbermouth spun in the air, agitated. Where do I start? They've raided and pillaged humanity for centuries. They've attacked refugee columns headed to the City for centuries, slaughtering them in cold blood. They've mounted two major offenses against the City itself, both the Battle of Six Fronts and then the Battle of Twilight Gap, killing hundreds of guardians and thousands of civilians. When they couldn't crack it, they put us under siege that's continued to this day. They ignore all attempts at communication and are the most pressing threat to the survival of the City. Trust me, attacking the Fallen is completely justified.

It made sense, and they were basically bandits, but she hadn't yet seen it for herself. Then again, she didn't need to see them murder someone to know they were a threat. She grimaced, nodded, and made the call. The scope came up and she took aim at the captain. She hadn't had the chance to take sighting shots with it yet, but Banshee had promised that he'd personally zeroed out the prototype rifle before it was encoded as an engram and uploaded into the City's library for Cayde to hand out. In theory the replication was perfect, right down to the calibration. She wouldn't have believed it, but then, she wouldn't have believed exos were possible either, so what did she know?"

She stopped breathing, which she still did out of habit, and lined up the shot. It was a close-range shot, no more than forty meters on a slowly moving target taken from a perfectly stable prone position. Doubts about the rifle aside, it was an easy shot. She kept the sites centered on the captain's large skull and slowly squeezed the trigger. The rifle bucked against her shoulder, but she kept her eye on scope. The high caliber bullet pierced the shielding system, bleeding energy as it went, but still had enough power to pierce the helmet, and penetrate the skull within.

The captain dropped mid-stride, and for a moment nothing happened as alien faces turned towards the sound of the rifle, not the captain. Then the nearest vandal noticed and cried out the alarm. The moment all eyes turned back to the vandal she pulled the trigger again. The vandal didn't have the benefit of shields or the elaborate decorated helmet of its captain, and its head simply exploded in a spray of white ether from its life-support system.

The loss of the captain followed by watching one of the vandals die before their eyes was too much for the dregs, who bolted in every direction. The remaining vandals hesitated a moment longer, but with their leader gone and no support they, too, broke and chased after their fellows.

Well that was easy.

"They were sitting targets and they lost their leadership in an ambush—of course they broke, but they'll be back shortly after they regroup and bring in more support elements."

You… don't talk like other guardians. You know that, right?

Whisper shrugged as she swapped sniper rifle magazines for Blabber to refill as they found glimmer and switched back to the SMG. "It's just how I think about things. Come on, let's go before they find friends."

They descended into the mess of airplanes, moving quietly through the frames and listening at the corners. No Fallen had hung back in ambush, so she made good time to the base of the structure where she slid under cover. Above her was Skywatch. A pair of buildings flanked it, one on the right and one on the left, making any approach at risk of deadly crossfire. Apart from the large communications dish on the roof there was nothing else that marked the building as noteworthy. It was big, but many of the ruins were big. It was sturdily built, a squat three or four stories and built like a bunker, which might explain why it was relatively intact while its more soaring counterparts had been destroyed.

"So that's the Skywatch, huh? What do we know about it?"

Not much. We call it that because of the dish on top. It was discovered not too long after the founding of the City by a hunter named Conar. Last mention in the records is that a fireteam cleared the ground floor of Fallen a few years ago, but that's all we know.

Whisper was getting the feeling she'd hear that answer a lot. While they watched, several Fallen skiffs took off from the building's roof, zooming overhead towards where she'd engaged the patrol before activating their stealth drives. Whisper waited a handful of seconds after they'd gone, looking for any signs of activity, but none appeared. She took a steadying breath, leveled her SMG, and moved in. To her relief, no fire came out from the neighboring buildings.

The outermost door was long-since destroyed, the contents of the old security area tossed, trampled, and broken underfoot. Strangely, there were no signs of Fallen occupation she'd seen in other parts of the Cosmodrome—no red banners of the House of Devils, none of the strange Fallen script splattered in their favored white paint. Then she hit a dead end, the hallway shutters closed and sealed.

"Are they only occupying the top floor?"

Blabbermouth emerged to examine the gate. I don't know. But the Fallen really didn't want anyone getting in. Or out.

Whisper looked at the ghost appraisingly. "That's ominous."

Got it!Blabbermouth retreated to her once more.

The exo looked inside and took a startled step backwards. There was… she wasn't sure what it was. The hallway was overgrown with a black substance. It looked almost like crystal, all jagged edges and strange angles, but it also seemed organic, like a growth.

"What is this?"

Lots of motion ahead. I've got a bad feeling about this.

Whisper abandoned her examination at the ghost's words as a jarring shriek cut through the air, echoing off the walls, and a swarm of bodies hurled themselves out of the dark. She pulled the rigger on her SMG sending bullets sizzling out and cutting the frontrunners down, but still they came, and she gave ground quickly to reload. She slid in another magazine just as she backed into the wall of the neighboring building and they were on her, fists battering into her body armor. She let rip with the SMG once more, sending the creatures flying and buying her some wiggle room. She kicked one of the dead creatures off of her while holding down the trigger and slid sideways and back towards the entrance. Then the SMG was dry again and they were back on the chase.

She called on the power of the light and gathered it in her left hand and threw it at the monsters, where it detonated, and then there were no more of them. For a moment she stood there, stunned—if she'd had flesh and blood she would have been shaking.

The Hive! They're already here!

Blabbermouth's alarmed words broke through her stupor and she reloaded the SMG quickly. "What are those things?"

Those are thralls from the Hive. They arrived about the time of the Collapse and infested the moon. They moved on Earth in their seedships, but the guardians drove them back. We have to find out what's happening here and get word back to the Vanguard.

"Can you transmit a message to them?

I… no, something is blocking the signal. It must be a Hive wizard, you'll have to kill it.

She blinked. "A wizard?"

Yes, a wizard. They use the darkness in rituals like magic, and the name stuck. You'll understand when you see it.

That sounded ridiculous, but then, some guardians were called warlocks, so what could you do? "Blabber, I know nothing at all about this Hive, so fighting an evil wizard that uses the darkness is a bad idea. We're here to see what the Fallen are doing and make sure the Vanguard know about these Hive. So, can you lock down this door again?"

I… Yes, I can do that.

"Great, do it." She kept close watch while the ghost did its work and only after the heavily reinforced door ground shut once more did she start to relax. She took a knee and examined one of the dead Hive creatures more closely. It was… strange. Similar to a human in general shape, if a little on the short side, they had two arms, two legs, a head mounted on a small neck, and ran with a fairly human-like gait. There were also major differences—there didn't seem to be skin as much as a calcium-heavy chitten, or maybe just straight bone, leaving a gap just wide enough for range of motion in the limbs. Disturbingly, there were no eyes—the entire area that would be a human's face was a thick shell of bone, leaving only a wide, gaping mouth of sharpened teeth.

She set down the SMG and examined a hand, manipulating the fingers. They were able to move, though only just—they'd almost entirely fused, and had developed ridges of hardened bone, making them a primitive mace. She had no idea how long it would take to evolve backwards like that, but it would seem like a very, very long time.

"Blabber, you said these are thralls, but what are they? Where did they come from?"

These are the lowest form of Hive, but we don't know where the Hive came from, not for sure. They definitely came from beyond the solar system at roughly the same time as the Collapse. They are very closely tied with the darkness.

Movement caught Whisper's eye and she looked at another thrall whose torso had been split by her bullets. Inside it something was… wriggling. "Is that a worm?"

Blabbermouth floated over for a closer look. Interesting. We've seen their larva before, but this appears to be something entirely different. I'm definitely picking up traces of darkness from it.

That gave Whisper pause. "You mean these things have been around for hundreds of years and nobody has bothered to learn more about them? Or even just look at them?"

The ghost swirled uncomfortably. Well, the City and the guardians have mostly been concerned about not getting overwhelmed. We do know a lot about them, but mostly in terms of how to fight them. And their bodies don't last long.

Whisper shook her head in disgust. It was just obvious to her—explore, then learn, then understand. Simple. But as she watched, the thrall's body began to sizzle with green fire. She leapt back as the remains consumed themselves, leaving nothing more than a scorched pile of ash.

"Well, the Hive are here. Now we know. Let's see if we can get a signal out to the Vanguard from the roof then get out of here before the Fallen get back."

Blabbermouth zoomed back to her and together they made their way quietly back to the sealed entrance. Still no sign of the returning Fallen, and still no ground patrols, though the reason for that was clear now—the Hive made for a pretty good gate guard. So instead of fighting her way through the Hive and then the returning, fully alerted Fallen, she looked up at the sturdy walls.

It would be tricky, but with her powerfully built mechanical legs it should be doable. She slung the SMG, grabbed onto an exposed pipe, and started climbing.

Ten minutes later Whisper was silently splayed out on the Skywatch's roof beneath the dish, feeling grateful she wasn't puffing for air like a flesh and blood as two vandals patrolled just beneath her on a balcony. The roof itself was crowded—the communications array took a lot of space, but the Fallen had added several anti-aircraft batteries, which were probably what had shot down the other guardian. She'd pulled out some important-looking pieces that Blabber assured her would effectively sabotage the guns then headed over to the side of the roof and only balcony.

What she didn't want to do was let the vandals below trigger an alarm, bringing back all the Fallen right on top of her. So she drew the combat knife Banshee had provided her and waited. Once she heard the vandal turn to continue its patrol she slid silently over the ledge and drove the knife into the its neck.

The Fallen gasped as it died, drawing the other's attention, but she had already withdrawn the knife and threw it, impaling the other vandal, which slumped over lifeless.

Nice throw.

Whisper glared at the ghost as it once again earned its name, and quickly scanned the area. They were near the dish, which meant the Fallen had access to it, but it was still intact, which meant they were making use of it. But for what? Time to find out.

She moved quickly into the control room, barricading the door in case there were more Fallen in the building, and set to work examining the computer systems. They were ancient, of course, but they'd been built for heavy, near-constant use, and there were some strange bits and pieces scattered about, almost certainly from the Fallen.

This had to have been a secured system… "Are the Fallen able to both fix and penetrate secured communications systems?"

Probably. They've been scavenging alien technology for centuries, and they're getting better at working with human systems.

Whisper frowned. "What were they doing with it?"

Blabbermouth was busily scanning systems, downloading data. Hard to say. I've got incoming communications from all over the Cosmodrome, but they're separated into grids, like they're running a search pattern.

"Looking for what?"

It doesn't say, but there are a lot of signals coming from the Forgotten Shore. In fact, it looks like some of the outlying search groups are headed in that direction

"That's not good. A huge dish like this would be helpful, but there's no way they need something this big just to coordinate a search pattern. Can you tell what else they're doing with it?"

I… hmmmm. I wonder. Yes, as I thought. Most major Fallen communications devices we've found are pointed to the same coordinates in the sky, which we assume is their home planet. Strange, though… they don't seem to have received any transmissions, at least not that we can detect here.

Whisper shrugged helplessly. There were major connotations to that, but no time to think it through. "Look, new signal. The Fallen are on their way back. Finish downloading whatever you can and let's get out of here."

Whisper made a running leap out of the shattered glass window, dropping all three stories and trusting in her metal legs to take the impact. She hit hard enough to drop to a knee.

They're above us!

Whisper didn't bother to look—instead she ran, going to an all-out sprint in the space of five steps and dodging between the hulks of airplanes while hurdling piles of debris. She grunted and stumbled as a wire rifle slammed into her back. The feeling of pain lasted only a moment, but it felt wrong, broken somehow, but she could keep running at only a marginally slower pace. Within a minute she'd left them behind and slid to a stop in a small grotto. "Alright Blabbermouth, come on out and take a look at the damage."

The ghost hummed to itself as it scanned her back and she was struck by the odd feeling that something was missing, some sensation of pain. Which was silly, of course. She did feel discomfort, of negative feedback that caused discomfort, but pain… pain wasn't helpful to a machine.

No problem, I can take care of that.

A new sensation flooded her system, a sense of completion, wholeness—of light. And a moment later she was whole once more. "How do you do that?"

Blabbermouth spun in the air, his favorite expressive movement. How do you use the light?

"Fair point. Okay, so what did we find in there?"

Quite a lot, actually. Where do you want me to start?

"Tell me more about that place—that will let me know more about how to understand the rest of it."

Okay. We've been calling the building with the dish on it the Skywatch, but more accurately the Skywatch refers to all three neighboring buildings, which all make use of the primary dish. We were in the Lunar Complex, which was the primary communication hub to the moon. The other two are the Terrestrial Complex and the Jovian Complex, which were responsible for communications with the rest of the system on the near and far sides of the asteroid belt, respectively.

"So this was high-tech stuff."

Yes, Golden Age technology for sure.

"Okay. Are we clear of that interference?"

Yes. I was right—it was definitely the Hive wizard's interference. We're far enough away that we're out of range.

"Great. Open a channel to the Vanguard."

Blabbermouth spun again, its eye lighting up. Vanguard Tower this is Whisper-0. Can you hear me?

"Whisper-0, that's a new one. This is Blake in the Tower; what's up?"

Blabber turned to face her and bobbed once. Ah, yes, we're at the Skywatch, where we found—

"Wait, is that the one with the big dish on it?"

Yes, that one. We found two things. First, the Fallen are running a search pattern for something in the Cosmodrome. Second, we found a bunch of Hive sealed in there.

"That's very—wait, did you say Hive? On Earth?"

Yes.

"Hold on."

The line went dead for a moment and Whisper and Blabber gave each other a look. Then a new voice come on the line, strong and confident.

"This is Commander Zavala; who am I speaking with?"

Whisper jumped in before Blabbermouth could speak. "This is Whisper-0."

"I'm not familiar with you—which fireteam are you on?"

"Uh, I'm a new hunter, I don't have a fireteam."

A moment of silence passed. "I see. Give me your report."

Whisper repeated their findings to Zavala, who also reacted at the mention of the Hive.

"Hive in the Cosmodrome? How many were there? How much territory have they claimed?"

Whisper's head cocked to the side slightly as she considered. "Not many, and not much." Her voice grew in confidence as she spoke.

"I'd like to believe that, guardian, but what do you base that on?"

"First, size. They were confined within a single building, sealed in by the Fallen. There was some sort of organic buildup inside, but no evidence outside of their presence, suggesting they are operating from a position of weakness and trying to remain undetected. Our communications were jammed by a, uh, a wizard, also suggesting they're trying to keep people away, not draw them in."

"Hmm. They do tend to tunnel, and the Cosmodrome is littered with underground passages, but Golden Age buildings are difficult to cut through, so they might be confined as you suggest. And wizards block communications constantly, perhaps even unknowingly, so we cannot conclude anything from that. But I suspect you are correct. What's the status of the location now?"

"We opened the door and thralls came out. When we discovered we couldn't communicate we re-sealed it, looked through the computer systems of the Skywatch, and fell back to report."

"I see." A small hint of approval seeped into his voice, the first emotional inflection she'd heard from the man. "Tell me more about the Fallen. You say they're looking for something?"

"Yes, they're running a search pattern, but they seem to be closing in on an area called the Forgotten Shore."

"Good work, guardian. Whisper, was it? I will discuss this with the rest of the Vanguard, but in the meantime, I'll send a fireteam to clear out the Hive. We can't afford to let them get a foothold on Earth again. I want you to look into the Forgotten Shore. I'll send another fireteam to back you up, but it will take time to get a second team ready to move, and we need to know more about what the Fallen are up to. They've been too quiet as of late. Zavala out."

And now you've met Commander Zavala, the leader of the titans and current leader of the Vanguard. And we got a mission straight from him! They usually work only with the most experienced guardians. He must be impressed.

Whisper frowned. "More like we're what's available." She sighed. She still wasn't sold on this whole guardian thing, but at least she was out here, exploring, learning, and understanding. Even if only a tiny piece at a time. Well, on to the Forgotten Shore.

A/N: First, special thanks to Carrier for pointing out that Chapter 1 was garbled in upload and completely unreadable. It should be fixed now.

This chapter is our first small foray into changes to a main story mission. Whisper is different from most guardians for reasons we'll get into later, so she approaches problems in different ways. This makes the sometimes uneven world of Destiny more consistent, and also helps shake things up, as "and then they shot everything until it died" is fun in game, but gets stale very quickly. Let me know what you think! Also, I'm changing the planned release schedule from Sundays to Saturdays. Next up, we get our first fleeting encounter with a warmind.