Fireteam Spirit: Accepted Candidates…

Unknown user has given this information under the alias The Wolf Keeper…

…

Identity ownership belongs to this alias…

Name: Renton (Ren) Diomedes

Race: Human

Age: 24 years
Skin: Caucasian
Hair Colour: Dirty Blonde
Eyes Colour: Cobalt Blue

Other aspects:

Brand: Black tattoo in resemblance to the letters FWC (Tattoo located on the upper left shoulder… Tattoo is slightly faded…)

Class: Warlock
Sub: Sunsinger

Faction: Future War Cult

Weapons:

Primary: Does Not Bow (Legendary Class auto-rifle issued and claimed from the distant Awoken settlement and outpost known as the Reef…)

Secondary: Havoc Pidgeon (Legendary Class sidearm issued by the Crucible…)

Heavy: Sol Edge (Legendary Class weapon discovered and converted from Hive artefacts… Material acquisition by Guardian: Unknown…)

Armour:

Helmet: Apex Harmonic (Legendary Class helmet manufactured and branded by the Vanguard…)

Chest: Infinite Line Robes (Legendary Class Robes branded and manufactured by the Future War Cult…)

Arms: Claws Of Ahamkara (Exotic Class Gauntlets gifted to Guardian Renton for his heroic deeds before the incident within the Vault…)

Legs: Haliaetus II (Legendary Class Greaves branded and manufactured by the Crucible…)

Bond: Ebonthorn Bond (Legendary Class Bond branded and manufactured by the highest Warlock scholars at Vanguard Ikora's disposal…)

Shader: ChatterWhite

Ship: Aspect of Glass (Legendary Class ship of ancient and unknown origin… This ship has been speculated to be a lost relic from the Vault of Glass… Requisition of the item unknown…)

Ghost Shade(s): Crimson (Red)

Ghost name(s): Sparks

Bio: Once a proud and joyful soul, Renton Diomedes – like many other Guardians – faced much adversity throughout his career as a War-Cult representative but – as luck may have it – he was not a very well-known member of the community. He appeared very rarely in the social circles of other Guardians and was generally considered to be a person who could fade into a crowd easily. However, this easily forgettable Warlock soon came into the sights of the community when he became a member of the infamous two-man team: Rebound. With his two friends and a new determination to improve his reputation, Renton and his team went on to accomplish many unbelievable feats that many other Guardians could not. They became model Guardians. And they were proud of their accomplishments.

Yet, after discovering that two Fireteams and a single Guardian had all been lost and defeated by a mysterious Vault on Venus, Rebound took upon themselves to complete the legendary Raid. They arrived at the Vault prepared to walk in the footsteps of the legendary Kabr and Warden-19 and do what even they could not. However, their aspirations did not match the outcome. From the beginning of their quest into the mighty infrastructure Rebound were doomed. The first casualty came during the fight with the almighty Templar, a creature that had been whispered to be a truly invincible abomination of metal, slew one of Renton's comrades and obliterated his Ghost. The two remaining Guardians did not cease in their journey in the hopes that they may avenge their friend. For a while, they were successful. They discovered and traversed the Gorgon's Maze, avoiding certain death to the best of their abilities. They traversed the puzzle of dispersing and displacing platforms with relative ease, hoping the end would be in sight. Nevertheless, their luck had once again run dry as they came across the almighty Vex construct known as Atheon, Time's Conflux. The team, after being exposed to the mighty being, were defeated before they could fire a single shot as Renton's last comrade was thrown through time and lost in an unknown location; Renton was left on his own to attempt a rescue, failing almost immediately before he was soon rescued from the Vault by an unknown Guardian.

On his lonesome return to the Tower, Renton and his team were remarked as heroes for their many deeds for the community and within the Vault. This mattered not to the lone survivor of Fireteam Rebound as he soon fell into a deep depression from the failure of a mission he had so foolishly taken part in. His interaction with other Guardian's decreased exponentially. His view upon the surrounding world became bleak – even though it was once the opposite. His skills changed, along with his treatment of his enemies and opponents, opting to use a style that can only be compared to abject brutality.

The Renton Diomedes that once wandered the tower was now dead. This man… this automaton in human skin – an analogy that seems appropriate to many – no longer saw the universe as the mysterious and beautiful place it once was. This man was just a husk – a shell of the original man. Despite everything, a faint glimmer of hope remains within Renton. He calls that hope his best friend: Sparks.

Afterword by Renton Diomedes…

The bar bustled with life as Renton sat alone. Guardians passed him by, not taking notice of his presence. He was used to this sort of treatment from his fellow warriors of the 'light'. They generally had a problem trusting people they were not aware of or cared about. It was natural, really, as were still only human. Metaphorically, anyway. So, it was normal for them to act this way. Even if he was not exactly partial towards the treatment, Renton was used to it.

It wasn't because he was antisocial – not by a long shot was he not a socialite. He loved the company of others and could spend hours upon hours talking with them. Sometimes he would even settle for a simple chat with Sparks – his Ghost and best friend. No, the reason people often avoided him was because they generally didn't notice him. He could be so quiet that people would not notice him arrive, like a phantom. Yet what made it hurt was that he wasn't even trying to hide. They all just seemed to never notice him.

Nevertheless, he was grateful for those who took the extra mile to pay attention to him…

"Hey, Renton!"

Diomedes looked up from his seat and smirked as he saw a Guardian approach him. He released a hearty chuckle as the person sat before him. The Guardian brushed his raven-haired comb-over and flashed a cocky smile towards his friend. "Orion, what brings you to this dark and sordid pit?"

The Hunter leaned back in his chair and smiled. Renton was so sure that Orion's smile was almost entirely infectious. "Oh, and since when did you care how low I would stoop to get a drink?" He cocked a mocking brow as he raised his arms dramatically. "I have the right to dwell in any hive of scum and villainy I please!"

Renton leaned back in his chair as he broke into a poorly stifled laugh. Honestly, there wasn't many people who could make him laugh in such a way. Orion just seemed to have that way with people. "You know what I mean, Orion. Why aren't you out there, gathering more Cabal memorabilia to hang on the wall?" He asked, as if issuing the Hunter an unspoken challenge. "Isn't that like your thing?"

In response, the man turned to gaze over his shoulder and stared at the many ornaments that defined much of his career. In all honesty, he could not help but enjoy the sight. The many monsters he had combatted. The countless creatures he had wiped from the face of existence. All of his greatest achievements were summed up by that wall display; it was something that the whole community to see. Something for them all to be inspired by.

To Renton – and many others – it was mystery why some Guardians collected such strange items and trophies from their prey. It seemed time consuming and somewhat inappropriate. Some made the excuse that it was simply a means to 'get back' at the enemy for their actions against humanity; a punishment. Renton, however, saw it as almost blatant kleptomania – a condition that was certainly rare nowadays. Among the sane, anyway. Still, he did not judge him. If that was what kept Orion happy then that was fine.

"Hey, I am more than qualified to take a break from administering justice, Diomedes." The confidence was clearly evident as it slowly oozed its way off of every word. If he were any more arrogant, he could take up the position of resident narcissist. "Anyway, I just got back from a strike with Ragnar and Eli so… Yeah, I need a rest." He raised his hands and called over to the service droids to deliver a few drinks to their table.

Renton raised a questionable brow. "Uh… are you sure we shou-"

"Yes." Orion replied immediately as he rubbed a sore spot on his temple. "I need – I mean – we need it. Now, no arguments! Drink!"

The two glanced up as gauntleted hands slammed three drinks upon the table and smiled simultaneously at the form before them. "Zoya!" Orion exclaimed as he pushed out a third chair with his boot, inclining her to take a seat. He almost seemed excited at the prospect of seeing her. "How's your 'Reef" boyfriend?"

The Awoken snapped her eyes into a sudden glare as she sat down with the two Guardians, her fist clenched aggressively against her glass. "Don't push me, Orion." Her frown quickly flipped to a smirk as she indicated with a single thumb towards a certain display. "Or I will not be held accountable for what will happen to your precious memorabilia."

"Oh, feisty!" He remarked as he swiped his own drink and began a deep intake, exhaling in satisfaction as the liquid seeped down his throat. It seemed as if he hadn't drunk anything so intoxicating for a very long time. "Anyways, where's Dante and Jaxx? They busy or something?"

"Sadly, yes." She replied, her own eyes declining slightly as she took another sip of her beverage. This was a fairly common reaction from Zoya when she was away from her team. That essence of loneliness. That despairing feeling brought upon by inaction. Many of them wondered what Zoya would ever do without them. "They are currently helping Spectre, Dael and Dove investigate an anomaly in the Array. When they return, we have a strike against the Cabal to begin." She reached towards her drink and took another light sip.

Finally taking notice of the extra untouched drink, Renton pointed towards the fourth glass. "Who's this for?"

Zoya blinked as she and Orion almost gawked at the mysterious drink. "I – uh – actually have no idea… Did you guys see someone bring it?" They shook their heads, declining any possible knowledge of who brought ominous drink to their table. "So, who does it belong to?"

"Ahem," The trio turned towards the empty spot at the end of their table and stared curiously at the helmeted head poking just over the table edge. "th-that would be mine."

"Cyrus!?" Renton exclaimed before lowering his tone, noticing the Warlock flinch at his sudden outburst. Still, he wanted an explanation. "Why are you hiding under the table?"

The young Warlock tilted his head and chuckled slightly. "I-I-I'm just try-trying to not be seen by too many people… They might find me…"

Orion tilted his head slightly. "What are you talking about?" He placed his drink against the table, dedicating all his attention towards the Warlock. "Who's watching you?"

"Want us to beat 'em up?" Zoya offered as she slammed her fist against her palm. She certainly was not in the mood to hear about some of her friends getting bullied.

Cyrus flinched once again. "N-No! Do-Don't do tha-tha-that!?" He begged as he continued to look around the room in a panicked frenzy. His freaked – animal-like – surveying was almost panicking the trio. "Also, ke-keep it down! They might hear you!"

"Who!?"

"I don't know! I thi-think it's the Vanguard leaders! Or ma-ma-maybe it's th-the Crucible representatives!? I-It could be the Spe-Speaker!?"

"Oh, for the lov- get up!" Cyrus yelped indignantly as he was hoisted onto his seat by his collar. A solid grunt came from his throat as his rear collided with the chair. Orion and Renton flinched as they heard the solid thump but chuckled as they watched the Warlock restart his panicked state. Zoya rolled her eyes and gave a grunt that represented her rising agitation.

"Wh-Why wou-would you do that!?" He snapped in a hushed tone, attempting to pull at the collar of his robes to help conceal his already masked face. "They mi-mi-might have see-seen you! And me! All of us! What are we- "

The Warlock dropped into dead silence as Orion pushed the untouched drink towards him. His solid grin was evident. "I have an answer to all of your woes, twitchy."

"You've spiked it, haven't you?"

Orion rolled his eyes. "No, just drink it!"

For a few moments, Cyrus stared at the drink intently as if he were trying to decipher its very existence or ponder its true philosophical existence within the physical realm. The hesitance in his actions was almost entirely evident as he froze to the stillness of a corpse. The trio of onlooking Guardians continued to stare at the Warlock, impatiently waiting for him to react.

His right hand raised towards the drink, leaning in to lift the beverage from the table. He raised the glass of alcohol towards his mask and seemed to examine it. He swirled the drink lightly and watched as the small waves clashed against the walls of the glass. The Cult representative waited for the liquid to cease its movements; secretly, he was waiting for a chemical reaction that would reveal his clearly sound concerns about the drink he ordered. Satisfied with his analysis of the beverage, the Warlock began to reach for his helmet as to remove it but paused.

"I see what you're doing!" He exclaimed suddenly, slamming the drink against the table and making the trio jump. He leaned over the table and pointed accusingly at Orion, "You're working for them, aren't you!?"

The Dead Orbit representative frowned at the Guardian, resisting the urge to sigh. "Who? The Speaker? The Vanguard? The Crucible?" He asked flippantly, the rhetorical smarminess in his tone infuriating the paranoid Warlock. "'cause I'm pretty sure we all work for them!"

"I know that but I also know that someone has been watching me!" The paranoid Guardian retorted aggressively, not noticing his blonde Warlock friend flinch at the raised voices. "Libra and Kronus and Dagger may not see it, but I do!"

Zoya groaned. "Agh! Shut up!" She ordered, slurping more of her drink. Setting the glass down, she began to glare at the Warlock. Renton flinched once again. "Because – if you don't comply – I will be forced to punch you!"

"Guys!" Renton desperately pleaded as he came between the group of barking Guardians, hoping to remedy the situation before it became out of hand. The last thing he needed was to get kicked out of his favourite bar in the Tower. "How about we all just try and keep it calm…" The three all turned to glare at him in perfect synch. He chuckled nervously with a large goofy smile as he ran a hand through his blonde locks. "Hey, I'm just sayin', I don't want this bar destroyed!"

The Awoken who walked both the paths of the Void and the Storm relented, slamming back into her seat. "Yeah-Yeah, you're right, Ren." She sighed, rubbing her fingers against her temple.

Orion nodded in agreement with the Warlock. "Yeah… I guess we did get a little… heated. This bar means too much to us and the others; let's not ruin it."

Renton smiled at the two, nodding appreciatingly at them as they both calmed their tempers and relinquished their arguments. He glanced over to the still trembling form of Cyrus and frowned slightly. "Come on, pal." He begged softly as he tugged on his sleeve; he hoped that he could settle the paranoid Guardian down. "Just sit down – with your friends – and have a drink without thinking about any mysterious onlookers who are most likely, probably, maybe, not watching you."

"But I-" Cyrus sighed, taking a deep inhale of soothing oxygen. "Fine. I will… I will just have to ignore them." He reached up and removed his helmet, placing it against the table. The trio froze momentarily as they attempted to hide their painfully obvious gawking. "But only because you guys are here…"

Renton's smile widened to that of an over-excited child. Finally, peace and order had been restored. He paused slightly, noticing the small text message that appeared on his HUD. It was from Clark, his team leader, regarding their next mission. He gave a hearty chuckle and sighed. "Its always the way, huh?" He remarked to himself. "Sorry, guys, I have a date to attend on Venus."

Orion tilted his head. "Oh yeah," He commented, clearly intrigued. "what going on in Red's kingdom that's so important?"

Renton leaned in, gesturing for the others to come closer. As they leaned in, he lowered his tone to a whisper. "Prepare to be amazed." He declared, hold his hands out in a dramatic fashion. "My Fireteam, and I, will be venturing into the deadly – and don't forget legendary – Vault of Glass!"

Cyrus shivered slightly. "Da-Damn… Better you than me…" He muttered, fear evident within his bright hazel and verdant eyes.

"Your team should come along, Cyrus." He remarked, a sly smirk playing at his lips as he brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes. "We could use the help of the infamous Fireteam 'Seeker'. Also, I'm sure that Dagger has the hots for me."

Cyrus gave him a sly smirk. "In your dre-dreams, Ren." His smirk quickly dropped. "Also, we can't come. My team and I will be investigating the caverns under Paris after I'm done here. Kronus reckons that the mysterious signal there is a dead Ghost… I hope."

"I know how you feel." Zoay complained, her tired eyes drooping slightly. "My team and I needs to go on a strike when they return… Another boring, monotonous assignment."

Orion nodded. "Same. Vanguard want me to hunt down some Cabal leader." He explained. "Same shit, different hour…"

"Well, before we all go, lets make one last toast." Renton grabbed his drink and raised it in a celebratory manner. "To drinking at the bar!" He cheered, inclining a barrage of smirks and smiles from the others.

Zoya raised her own glass. "To friends, the family we can pick and choose!"

Matching her energy, Orion raised his glass and clinked it against Renton and Zoya's. "To taking justice upon those who would try and take our loved ones away!"

The three turned expectantly towards the solemn Warlock as his hazel eyes stared intently towards them, wondering what he should say. They had all decreed something incredibly important about themselves; opening a small window into the mystery of themselves. He had to decide what mattered to him. What did matter to him? Maybe it was his team – the people who took him in. The people who gave him a home and showed him that he could be accepted if he really tried… Maybe it was his job. His job – the duty – gave his life a purpose. He would be entirely lost without it but… it didn't satisfy him the way moments like this one did – moments with his… family. Was it the people he called family?

His eyes lit up as it came to him. He reached for his drink and lifted it towards his friends raised glasses, lightly clinking it against theirs. "To… To us… To the friends I would never want to lose… To those – whom I consider family – I always hope will be by my side…"

The group smiled and clanged their glasses against each other's, finishing their toast with a single unanimous phrase that got every other Guardian in the bar to cheer the same chant.

It was a simple chant, nothing truly special or remarkable. It was three simple words; they meant little when apart but – together as one phrase – could unite an entire battalion's worth of Guardians, in one bar, to unite together and agree in one thing: Hope.

And sometimes, hope was all they needed…

"We will survive!"