"Alright, let's call it there for today."
Kendrix sank against a fallen stone pillar and ripped off his helmet, taking in deep gulps of ocean air. Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion, every nerve begged for release. Since Proxima had found him, he'd found himself fighting for his life pretty much every single day. But none of those experiences, not even their encounters with Bludgeon, had left Kendrix as utterly beaten as Beckett's training regimen.
The Titan was relentless, and his fireteam weren't much better. Even Apollo seemed to take their practice seriously, and Kendrix had lost count of how many times Proxima had had to stitch his broken, burned, or electrified body back together in the last hour alone. He found himself uttering a silent prayer to no one in particular, giving thanks that he and the other Guardians were on the same side.
"Seriously, stopping before sundown?" Trinity said with a smirk, feigning shock. "Don't tell me you're going soft on us, Beck."
Kendrix felt a cool flask materialize in his hand, and drank heavily from the cool, pure water within. He gave Proxima his wordless gratitude, and the Ghost hummed contentedly from the back of his head.
"No, just on Kendrix. He's still adjusting, and I'm not looking to push him very hard just yet," the Titan replied in a tone that was a little too genuine for Kendrix's liking.
"If that wasn't very hard," Kendrix said, gasping his words out between deep breaths and deeper drinks, "...then I'm pretty sure whatever you have left in store will kill me. Permanently."
Apollo, who was sitting atop the same pillar a few paces away, leaned over and spoke in a half-whisper.
"It's only going to get worse from here, believe me. Sooner you accept that, easier it'll be," the Hunter stated with grim certainty.
"Great," Kendrix muttered. He allowed himself a small sigh of frustration, then pushed himself back to his feet. "Well, if you'll all excuse me, it's been a long day and I think I hear my bed calling my name."
"Not gonna join us for drinks?" Trinity said pointedly, evidently still trying to rope him in to partaking.
"I can pass out just fine on my own, thank you," Kendrix confirmed. "No need to pay some bartender to do the job for me."
Trinity signed with exaggerated disappointment. "You have gotta learn to relax, kid. Rest well."
Kendrix nodded, then pulled his helmet back on as the rest of the fireteam began to make for the exit. He was about to follow them when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"Before you call it a night, make sure you stop in at the Hall of Guardians," Beckett said, his mouth flashing yellow as he stepped around into Kendrix's line of sight. "Vanguard wants to see you, and you're long overdue for meeting them anyway."
Kendrix suddenly felt wide awake as alarm bells started going off in his head. What did Guardian leadership want with him? Had he done something wrong? Did they know about Nova?!
"Thanks, Beckett," Kendrix said calmly, ensuring his sudden trepidation didn't make it past his lips. "I'll check in before I hit the hay."
"Good. I'll be in touch about our next training session soon. You've got a long way to go, but today was a great start." And with that, the hulking Exo walked off into the quickly fading daylight.
Kendrix sighed again, then activated his comms. "Alright Nova, we're ready to head out." The robot gave his usual affirmative beep, but then added a short message in Morse code.
N-E-E-D- -T-O- -T-A-L-K.
Kendrix was speechless. His mind was overwhelmed by half a dozen emotions, feeling angry and anxious and relieved and terrified all at once. Eventually, he found a balance between them all long enough to say something.
"So, just to be clear," Kendrix said slowly, methodically, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. "...you received a message from Bludgeon, the psychopathic magic skeleton samurai robot, asking you to come visit him, alone, and you just… went. Without telling either of us?"
…P-R-E-T-T-Y- -M-U-C-H.
Kendrix lost the balance as his mind tipped very heavily in the direction of anger.
Proxima, presumably sensing his building wrath, quickly cut in with a more diplomatic tact.
"That was very irresponsible, Nova," she chided from where she perched in midair above Kendrix's shoulder. "I understand your thinking, but you really should've told us you were going. If you hadn't come back, we might never have learned what happened to you."
"Yeah," Kendrix growled, stopping himself from saying anything else lest he regret it.
For a moment, there was silence. Given he was sitting in Nova's cockpit, Kendrix was hardly in a position to gauge the robot's expression. But he thought he could feel the Cybertronian's eyes on him, nonetheless. Waiting for him to speak.
But when Kendrix stubbornly refused to do so, Nova decided to fill the silence himself.
N-O-T- -F-U-N- -B-E-I-N-G- -L-E-F-T- -B-E-H-I-N-D.
The words hit like a punch in the gut. Even through the rigid translation into Morse code, Kendrix could hear the solemn certainty in the robot's voice. Kendrix knew what he was getting at, and it hurt. Not least of all because it was true.
"No, it's not," Kendrix admitted with a sigh. "But you still should have told us what you were doing. I've never kept you in the dark about our next moves, not even at the start. Proxima's right. If things had gone wrong, if you'd-"
Kendrix's voice hitched for a moment at the thought, but he steadied himself.
I-M- -S-O-R-R-Y.
"I'm just glad you're ok," Kendrix continued with another sigh. "But, going forward, you keep us in the loop. On everything. Got it?"
P-R-O-M-I-S-E.
"Good."
"Well, glad we cleared that up," Proxima said. "As risky as the move was, the rewards may have just been worth it. If Bludgeon was telling the truth, then he still hasn't figured out where the Black Garden gateway is, much less how to open it. That's very good news, and it gives us some wiggle room in case the Awoken decide to be… difficult. Should also let us rest up a bit before we try to trek all the way out to the Reef."
"Not to mention what he said about Cybertron and the Traveler," Kendrix added, his simmering emotions quickly giving way to ravenous curiosity. "Do you think he's telling the truth? That the Traveler really did visit Cybertron before Earth?" Proxima's shell flexed with a shrug.
"Well, we know humanity wasn't the first species the Traveler uplifted. There were the Fallen before us, and some Hive texts suggest-"
"Wait, the Fallen were chosen by the Traveler?" Kendrix asked, incredulous.
"Yes," Proxima confirmed. "That's why they're called Fallen in the first place. The Traveler left their home system to come to Earth, which many interpret to mean they 'fell' from the Traveler's good graces in some way, causing it to choose us instead. And the Fallen… well, let's just say they didn't appreciate being left in the Dark. Accounts indicate they had a Collapse of their own when the Traveler abandoned them. Their homeworld was destroyed by the Hive, their civilization broken. What few populations survived were scattered to the solar winds, forced by necessity into lives of cutthroat piracy and fanatical devotion to their House. And a handful of said Houses managed to track the Traveler all the way here to Sol, arriving just in time to start nesting in humanity's ruins after our own Collapse."
"That's why they hate us," Kendrix said, understanding. "Because the Traveler chose us over them?"
"That's a lot of it, yeah," Proxima said uncomfortably. "The Traveler didn't sacrifice itself for them like it did for us. It didn't make them any Ghosts, there aren't any Fallen Guardians. No one knows why Earth was the place the Traveler decided to stop running, but the Fallen will never forgive us for being chosen as its favorites. They've tried time and again to breach the City, to kill us all and reclaim the Traveler. And even though we've beaten them back time and again, if only barely, I don't know that they'll ever stop."
"So they're just… people," Kendrix said, his voice dull. And I've killed so many.
Proxima didn't need to read his mind to hear the unspoken part.
"Ken, I know, but it's just the way things are. We do what we have to to preserve humanity. I think… I think it's better to try not to think about it. It's easier if-"
"Easier? Easier? Well maybe I don't want 'easier'!" Kendrix said, almost shouting as he felt something inside him begin to thrash around his psyche. "Maybe I don't want killing people to feel easy! You say we preserve humanity? What about my humanity?! Shouldn't I try to preserve that?!" Proxima wasn't at his shoulder anymore. She'd pulled away towards the front of the cockpit, silhouetted against the white of the rising moon they were rushing towards. Kendrix could feel his eyes glowing, burning with a shifting kaleidoscope of oranges and purples.
And with the tears that were slowly trickling down his face.
Suddenly, the brilliant white light in front of him vanished, replaced suddenly with the calm serenity of empty sky, the City's twinkling lights peeking down into view. And Kendrix saw Proxima's eye glowing that pale blue, sharp and still and afraid.
Kendrix's anger broke like thin ice over a black ocean.
"I… I'm sorry." he croaked, fighting to keep his breaths from breaking into sobs.
"I know," she answered, her voice softer and gentler than it had ever been. "Are you ready to land?"
Kendrix removed his helmet to wipe the tears from his eyes.
"Yeah… yeah, I think so."
"Ok. Nova, would you please take us down?"
As soon as Kendrix rematerialized in the Tower's courtyard, he began to make his way towards his room.
"Ken," Proxima said, stopping him. "You promised Beckett, remember?"
"Oh. Right."
He adjusted his course, walking towards the back of the courtyard, where a staircase led down into a long hall. Night had fallen over the city, so the Hall of Guardians was mostly empty. Save for a woman standing at the long war table at the end of the hall, pouring over a pile of various datapads. She wore no helmet, so Kendrix could see that her skin was a light brown and her head was clean-shaven. Human, he assumed. A black-shelled Ghost floating at her shoulder gave her away as a Guardian, and her purple-and-grey robes marked her as a Warlock.
Kendrix started to approach, but then realized he hadn't put his helmet back on, so he silently asked Proxima to return it to him. Once the bronze object was properly secured, Kendrix moved into the hall proper.
"Excuse me," he said, once he came to an appropriate distance from the woman. "I was told to come here to speak to the Vanguard?"
The woman turned to him, her arms folding behind her back, and Kendrix noticed that her eyes, while largely brown, were flecked with dark purple in places.
"Ah, you must be Kendrix," she said, giving him a warm, knowing smile. Kendrix felt the word 'librarian' pop into his head.
"That's me," he confirmed with a nod. "I take it Beckett told you I'd be stopping by?"
"No," she answered matter-of-factly. "I guessed from your robes and the fact that I haven't seen you before."
"Ah, right," Kendrix said uncomfortably, trying not to think about how the threads of the dead Archon's cloak had suddenly begun to feel much heavier.
"My name is Ikora Rey, Warlock Vanguard" the woman said with a graceful nod. "I help oversee and direct Vanguard operations with my colleagues Commander Zavala and Cayde-6, with specific roles in assigning Warlocks to training regimens and fireteams."
"Please to meet you," Kendrix said, awkwardly nodding back.
"Likewise. You were first resurrected almost two weeks ago, is that correct?"
"Yes, that sounds about right," Kendrix said. "Everything's been kind of a blur."
"I'm sure it has. My sources tell me you've been keeping yourself quite busy, especially for a new Light."
Kendrix shrugged lamely. "Not much else to do, I guess."
"I understand. Although I encourage you to take some time for yourself now and then. It's good both for your personal health, and for keeping your mind sharp for when you're in the field."
"Tell that to Beckett," Kendrix grumbled half-seriously. Ikora laughed.
"Yes, he can be rather overbearing when it comes to training. He means well, and only wants you to succeed. I just think he sometimes forgets that there's more to being a Guardian than combat training, especially for us Warlocks."
"Right," he replied. A silence stretched out between them, and Kendrix fought the urge to fidget, not wanting to reveal how nervous he was. "Was there… something you needed from me?" he eventually asked.
Ikora's expression shifted, almost imperceptibly, her gaze suddenly bright and sharp as steel.
"That depends, Guardian-" she replied evenly, "-on what exactly you have to offer." She turned back to the table and picked up one of the datapads she'd been examining when she arrived. "You've accomplished much in your short time as a Guardian. No one can deny that. Exploring multiple planets, assassinating high-profile enemy targets, and infiltrating hostile territory time and again. But the methods you employed to achieve these victories… concern me. Your combat prowess, while notable, lacks refinement. You have difficulty reliably manifesting and controlling your Light, despite your apparent power. And you seem reluctant to engage and cooperate with other Guardians, both in and out of fieldwork."
She turned to him again. "These difficulties are by no means unusual for new Guardians. Adjusting to your powers, the state of the world, and your lack of memory is difficult for everyone, and I don't hold your struggles against you. However, not recognizing your limits and charging head-first into situations you haven't trained for is dangerous. I understand there is a lot of pressure to protect this City and its people. But needlessly putting yourself at risk is a disservice to yourself and to humanity.
"This is not a disciplinary hearing, nor am I giving you orders. I know you are doing the best you can. I simply ask that you reconsider your approach going forward. Self-awareness and strategy are as much a Warlock's tools as their Light, perhaps even more so. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Kendrix said stiffly, giving a firm nod.
"Good. Before you go, there is one more thing. As I understand it, you have yet to meet the Speaker."
"He's the one who broadcasted about the Hive ritual, right?" Kendrix thought aloud.
"Yes, and I imagine he'll be quite eager to express his gratitude to you for stopping it. You should introduce yourself, when you find the time. I'm certain your Ghost knows the way."
"Uh, sure. I'll be sure to do that."
"Excellent. Goodnight, Kendrix."
"Goodnight."
And with that, Kendrix turned on his heel and walked back out of the hall.
That didn't go terribly. Proxima noted mentally.
No. Kendrix agreed. It doesn't seem like the Vanguard knows anything about Nova, and that's a win in my book.
True. But it seems we've caught their attention with how fast and loose we've been playing things. It'll only get worse as we get closer to the Garden. Maybe we should take Ikora's advice, rest a while, plan our next move while we wait for things to settle.
Kendrix shook his head.
The plan hasn't changed. Bludgeon may not know where the Garden is, but neither do we. If we're going to stay ahead of him, we need to find out what the Awoken know. Then we'll decide what to do next.
Fair enough. Though I think our immediate priority should be getting you to bed. It's been a long day, and I think we can save our meeting with the Speaker for the morning.
You think we should see him?
Ikora's ideas are very rarely bad. The Speaker is the voice of the Traveler, and also heads the City's government. Any reward he might give is sure to be useful, and it doesn't cost us anything to say hello.
Fair enough. In the morning, then. But for now, sleep.
Yes.
When Kendrix's eyes fluttered open the next morning, he instantly felt the body-wide soreness he'd come to expect from waking up. He wasn't sure he liked what him getting used to such pains said about his day-to-day life.
What he didn't expect was to find Proxima nestled in the crook of his neck, her eye dim and motionless. As he shifted somewhat, however, her eye blinked to life, and she slowly rose into the air, flexing her fins as if stretching.
"I don't think I've seen you sleep before," Kendrix noted.
"Yeah well, you humans all seem to love it, so thought I'd give it a try," she replied, her voice almost sounding drowsy. "Frankly, I'm not impressed."
Kendrix laughed, then did some stretching himself. He was rewarded with the slightest decrease in how sore he felt. He glanced over to where Proxima was floating, looking at him as she waited for him to get up.
"Hey, um," Kendrix began, nervously massaging his neck. "I wanted to say sorry. About yesterday. I blew up on you when you were just trying to help me, and that was wrong. So I'm sorry."
Proxima sighed, then floated over to perch on his shoulder. "I'm sorry too. I know how compassionate you are; it's part of why I chose you. And I can't help you by asking you to suppress that part of yourself. That was unfair."
"It's ok. I just… I hate feeling like a killer. Even if it's for a good cause. They say the Light's all about diversity, about embracing our differences. But I feel like everyone expects me to just be this weapon, to hunt and fight and kill, forever and ever, until humanity's safe. And I get that I need to fight to help people, I do, but… that can't be all that I am, can it? All that I'm meant for?"
Proxima gave her approximation of a shrug. "No one knows why the Traveler made us, what it wanted us to be. Not even us Ghosts. And I think… I think maybe that's the point. That what it wants most is for us to be what we want to be, not what we think it meant us to be. Each Guardian gets to choose their own path, make their own fate, for better or worse. So maybe what you're meant to be is whatever you want to be."
Kendrix nodded silently to himself.
"And while you're figuring out what exactly that is, I'll be right here with you. Every step of the way."
Kendrix looked down at her and smiled.
"Thanks, Proxima."
"Anytime. Now, you ready to head out?"
"Definitely. Where is the Speaker, anyway?"
"North side of the Tower. Come on, I'll show you."
Kendrix strode across the Tower plaza, following Proxima's marker on his HUD. The morning sun pierced through the soft, thin clouds surrounding the Traveler in pale golden beams. Kendrix had taken his helmet off to feel the wind against his face, but quickly put it back on as they arrived at their destination.
The Speaker's study was a large space, open to the air and sun. Vibrant ivy crept up the walls in places, and there were desks and shelves abound, each one filled with everything from ordinary books to holograms and strange devices whose function Kendrix could only guess at. But the most impressive feature of the room had to be the view.
Beyond the railing at the edge of the platform, perfectly framed by a wall to either side, was the Traveler. In the morning sun, it seemed as white and weightless as the clouds, as natural a feature as any mountain and just as beautiful. Below it sat the Last City, slowly stirring as the people who lived within began to wake and go about their lives. It seemed so small from here, hiding in the shadow of the Traveler
"There was a time," came a voice from his left, "when we were much more powerful." Kendrix turned to see a figure walking down from the study's second level. By his voice Kendrix took him to be a man, but his face was hidden behind a strange white mask, his whole body covered in fine white robes. "But that was long ago," the man continued. He stepped down and walked to Kendrix's side. "Until it wakes and finds its voice, I am the one who speaks for the Traveler." The man gestured forward, inviting Kendrix to walk to the railing with him. "You must have no end of questions, but I imagine you have already learned much in your travels. I imagine you've heard the tales of the great battle, centuries ago, of how the Traveler was crippled. Tales of the Darkness, its ancient enemy, told throughout the City to frighten children."
The Speaker's hands clasped the railing as he gazed out at the world below. "Then again, perhaps you haven't heard them. Lately those tales have stopped. Now… the children are frightened anyway." He turned to look at Kendrix, his masked face stern and kind and sad all at once. "Stopping the Hive ritual may have slowed it, but the Darkness is coming back. We will not survive it this time."
Kendrix felt his hands clench at his sides.
"What can I do?"
The Speaker stepped back from the railing, then walked towards him, pulling something from his robes. The robed man pressed the object into Kendrix's hand. He looked down and found himself holding a band of white metal. As he touched it, he felt his Light hum, and the band lit up, displaying an orange hologram of a geometric design of squares and triangles. It was a Warlock bond, Kendrix realized.
"Do as you have been," the Speaker solemnly said. "Push back the Darkness. Join the Guardians fighting on this world and beyond. Your Ghost will guide you. I only hope she chose wisely."
"I did," Proxima said from where she'd appeared at Kendrix's shoulder. He glanced at her, gesturing to the bond in his hands. She bobbed an affirmative, so Kendrix reached up and clasped the bond on his left upper arm, his old bond disappearing in a flash of transmat as he did so.
The Speaker gave the slightest of nods, then turned away, returning to the staircase. Kendrix watched him go, a new resolve etched into his heart.
"Let's go see the Awoken."
AN: Back again. Felt good to dive into Kendrix's mindset for a while, and to revisit one of my favorite D1 cutscenes. Want to get another chapter out soon, but we'll see. Hope you all enjoyed!