Once More Unto the Breach I

Ikora was seated before a screen, one leg over the other with a steaming cup of tea beside a stack of datapads before her. The screen was awake, showing a map of their system. Below the map were faces, lined up together, seven in total. One in particular kept drawing her eyes back to it. She'd rather not acknowledge it.

Views of them were scarce and even then, never seen by anything other than satellites they had deployed or by the Awoken's spy network, who had started sharing limited amounts of intel with them. There have been some sightings of a Lightbearer nearly matching Lust's description. These were mostly in conjunction with seemingly random attacks on Guardians. Severe ones. No one had been permanently killed just yet but there were close calls. Ikora supposed she should be grateful. Pride wasn't targeting civilians. And then this talk of Shadows-

The door behind her slid open. Ikora turned to see Aashir, Aveline and her brother step inside before letting the door close behind them. Silent, the three bow slightly and return to standing at attention. She regarded them for a few seconds more before joining them in standing.

The screen switches away from the map of the system and the faces. In its place, it starts up another picture. Mars, the Valley of the Kings.

"We never got to discuss this," she said, clasping her hands behind her back. Her Ghost starts the recording, playing out the battle between the strange new Vex and the Cabal. It goes the same as it always does, the Cabal struggling against the onslaught, the Vex tearing through their defenses. Then the giant hand reaches out of the King's Gate and falls, crushing the last of the Cabal incursion before the video stops.

The footage was taken from Aashir's Ghost. They had been the farthest away so the Ghost had managed to capture the clearest view of the three. It also had the least screen shake when the limb landed, nearly giving Ikora a scope of the thing's size.

"The Sol Divisive," she murmurs beneath her breath. Aloud, she asks, "What have you been able to learn?"

"Very little," Josef was the one to respond. "They receive orders from Gate Lords," he said, "And they come from somewhere we've never seen."

"Meaning?"

"My Ghost says the portal opened from somewhere not within this system. Or the next one over," he replied. "Further research says the coordinates go past our outermost satellites."

"Uncharted territory," Ikora finishes. Charted by the Vex. She shouldn't be so surprised. "You believe the Cabal have intelligence on it?"

"We found a database within their systems when we hacked into it," Aashir said. "It was behind several layers of security. Nothing we could crack under fire. So we marked it."

She picked up a datapad. "Has the mark been shared with me?" A beat passed and the indication glowed onscreen. Ikora opens the message and scrolls through the details, mainly concerning security and possible solutions. One could almost hear the gears working in her head as she added a few more solutions of her own, creating a working list. Then she asked them, "Have the three of you read my report on what Kayla did in the Vault?" They all confirmed that they had. Aashir confirmed further that they had discussed it somewhat.

Ikora wanted to deem it unprecedented, interfacing with Vex systems as Kayla had done. Achieving a level of integration over hostile technology that allowed her to take control of a Vex Gate and awaken it, turning it towards her desired destination and bringing Daniel and Aro back from whenever they had been thrown. "I'm sure you also know that she's been attempting to repeat the event here at the Tower. And that she's failed every time."

"Because she's only attempted to interface with inert objects, isn't it?" Aveline says, "Dead parts we've scavenged from our battles. They aren't connected to anything like the Vex gate was. Not anymore."

"If you're suggesting she attempt to interface with the King's Gate, the answer is no." Ikora's bluntness was as palpable as a Phalanx's shield to the head, only without the instant relief of death.

Aveline made an effort to choose her next words carefully. "I only meant," she said, "That maybe we can have her attempt to interface with the Cabal terminal. It won't possess the same level of danger and maybe she can crack their security measures from the inside."

Ikora seems to consider it. Then she tells them, "I'll keep it in mind."

They are dismissed with a wave of her hand. Ikora turns back to the footage as the three move to obey. The room goes silent when they leave and the doors have closed. Ikora then speaks out, "Jaren always said you would make a terrible Nightstalker."

More silence. Then the sound of a chair scraping against tile. "Never had the chance to try," Shin said, slowly walking up behind her, making no attempt to hide his approach. "Your agents seemed plenty fooled. Where a cover fails, a distraction might serve. They were more concerned about you than me."

Shin Malphur stopped at her side, staring up at the wide screen. The recording starts again, probably at the behest of his Ghost. Ikora doesn't speak again until it finishes, until the hand drops. "To be quite honest, I'm not so sure what I should do with them," she admits. "The only reason I am keeping them on this assignment is because they're already too close to it."

"That and you have little precedence for disavowing your Hidden."

Ikora lets her eyes turn towards him. He always had a habit of saying the things no one wanted to say aloud. Poured out uncomfortable thoughts like they weren't being kept unsaid for a reason.

"I can't kill them," she finally says after a long while. "But I'm no longer sure I can trust them."

"Unconsenting trust is not trust, Ikora."

"It is the only trust present." She sighed, "It's something that will require consideration when this is all over."

The recording had been started again. Ikora noticed just in time to watch the last of the Cabal forces get crushed. "Assuming we're still alive."

Shin Malphur hums and he does it in a way that could almost be mistaken for a bitter, humorless laugh. Almost.

"Sixx reports another attempt at interfacing with a Vex core," Fel said, "Another subtype this time. Still dead. Still a failure."

"She's not going to break through this wall by simply ramming her head against it over and over," Aashir snapped, not at his Ghost but in general.

"Clearly you've never tried." Josef walked past, taking up one of the datapads piled up on the table before jumping into Aashir's bed. Aashir barely reacted. They've made themselves at home in his quarters for years now. Aveline was even raiding his fridge while he worked. He rarely ate and only kept the thing stocked for their sakes. In return, they had set aside a guest room in their own home, should he ever decide to stay. He never did. He would just send their Ghosts' the grocery bill and quietly, he'd be refunded.

Aveline returned, reaching over his head to take another data. She pulled the apple out of her mouth. "You two catching the Iron Banner matches tonight? Our own are competing."

Aashir speaks before Josef can. "Aren't the both of you busy?"

"We've done more work in less time."

"This needs to be perfect, Aveline."

"It usually is," Josef said. "Relax, Aashir. The master isn't here."

Aashir didn't dignify him with a response. His own datapad had Fel's recording of the King's Gate. He didn't know why. In the hopes of finding a solution to it, perhaps. Or more likely, reminding himself that there were none. Subconsciously knocking into his own head that their best chance against a creature that size was to hope they never faced it at all.

His Ghost busied himself with a full database scan of known Vex subtypes as well as a total examination of the planet Mars. Aashir's own paranoia; he struggled immensely to believe that in the centuries since humanity had made it to Mars, not a single sighting of the Sol Divisive had been made. Not one. Their first scan was cursory but this database had every bit of data gathered by every Guardian who had ever set foot on Mars since the Collapse. Fel was just finishing. Aashir felt the disappointment emanating from his Ghost even before he answered.

"Nothing," he grumbled. "Nothing at all."

"Josef?" He calls out, maybe a bit louder than necessary, "Mercury? Venus?"

"Hernan just finished. Nothing."

"Io? The Vault?"

Aveline simply shook her head and grimaced, turning her datapad around, showing the blank page.

"So we're the first of humanity to ever see the Sol Divisive." Aashir tossed the datapad down, the clattering ringing out. "We're going to have to fight them. Fight...that. And we're completely blind."

"Before you start throwing fire at things…" Aveline put her tablet back more gently, "There are some things we should consider."

Aveline's Ghost flew into view. "There are two major possibilities we've been unable to look at," Esila told them, "The Nexus Mind's core-"

"Taken by Envy."

"And the Pyramidion."

Slowly, Aashir twisted in his chair, coming eye to eye with the Ghost. "Why the Pyramidion?"

"Ikora once said that it was a massive repository of information," she explained, going a bit quiet with all eyes on her. "Bigger than most others. We haven't had contact with the Divisive but the Vex have. If so, the Pyramidion has to be where that info would be stored."

"Io is restricted territory," Aashir mutters, more to himself than the others.

Still, he was heard. "Since when has that meant anything to us?" Aveline asked. "If we tell Ikora-"

"You assume she'll trust us with this."

"There is no one else to trust," she pointed out. "No one else is nearly as qualified."

But Aashir was shaking his head, eyes shut and muttering to himself, too low for anyone to hear. "We'll put it on the back burner for now," Fel said, his one eye glowing with concern.

"There's still the Cabal terminal," Josef said, shifting on the bed and moving to stand. "Kayla can help us with that."

Aveline, her eyes on Aashir and full of the same worry, said, "She leaves for the Reef soon."

"Maybe she should stay behind then."

Aashir put up a hand, signaling for them to stop. "I'll discuss it with the Vanguard," he said. His hands came together on the table. "When we first faced Envy, she said she forced Rasputin to give up the intel that said we'd attempt to retrieve Nexus Mind core."

"Don't know much about Warminds, boss." He could hear Josef pulling on shoes as he spoke. "But I've heard stories. Read the histories. To make a Warmind do anything?"

"She's bolstered by the power of the Darkness." A growl ripped its way from Aashir's throat. "It was a mistake to let him integrate with our systems," he states. "Even if he's helped us before, as long as Envy is in play, he is a liability."

Aveline hummed. Then with a sigh, she stood. Aashir's eyes followed her. "How long have you been at this, Aashir?"

She was asking how long he had been working. He looked at her then pointedly turned away. "Not long."

Aveline turned to his Ghost, who answered immediately. "Several hours," he said, "Before our meeting with Ikora."

"Right." Aveline reached over his head again and scooped up the pile of datapads. "Take a break, Aashir."

"No." He realized how petulant he sounded and refused to care.

"Aashir-"

"Am I the only one who gets it?" He suddenly bites out, silencing her. "Ikora doesn't know what to do with us yet. If we weren't Guardians, if we didn't have Ghosts, she would've had us killed by now."

"You don't know that-"

"I do!" He stands from his seat, turning on the twins, "Who would you trust with the things we've seen? The things we've learned? No one. And we've proven we can't be trusted. Not with her intel, not to remain objective. Even when lives are on the line."

"They were going to make Asura back into one of them," Aveline pointed out, but the way her shoulders had lowered some told him that his point had hit its mark.

"We didn't know that going in." Aashir dropped back down into his seat. "We did it to save Asura. There's no point in telling ourselves otherwise."

Josef shrugged and took some of the tablets off his sister's hands. "I'm certainly not," he said easily. Then he switched them over to one arm and put his free hand on Aashir's shoulder. "Ikora will be fine as long as we don't make a habit of this. We had a good reason. A very good reason. She cannot deny that."

His shoulders sagged under the gentle weight of the Titan's hand. "And if she does, Josef?"

"Then she's not the woman I thought I knew. Never mind disavowing us, I wouldn't want to be one of her's anymore." The hand squeezed and in a voice too gentle for being so rough, he said, "Get some rest. We'll both be here first thing tomorrow morning."

The hand slides off and the door opens. Aveline pats his shoulder as she moves to follow her brother, shutting off his lights and leaving him in the dark and quiet.

"Sora?"

"Hmm?" Sora turned away from her notes to find her Ghost with a book on top of her head. "Thank you, Aya." she accepted the book and flipped it open to where she had stopped a few days before. She had a mix of them spread across the table she had claimed in the library, both digital and old physical copies.

Katrina and Jessie hadn't joined her. They never really did, always forgoing studying with her for training in the Crucible or the shooting range. Sora couldn't find it within herself to mind; it gave her space and quiet she rarely got around them.

If she was more honest with herself, she would admit that she should've been out there with them. From a practical standpoint, the Heralds were still Guardians. You don't learn to beat Guardians by fighting Fallen or Vex. You learn to kill Guardians by killing Guardians.

But here she was, studying Cabal military tactics she had memorized years ago. She wasn't the fighter her teammates were. A high bar, admittedly. It was no boast to say Jessie and Katrina were among their clan's best fighters but she had more reason than most to be compared to them. A comparison she regularly failed.

"Aya?" Her Ghost came speeding back from where she had retreated between the aisles. "Did you ever finish downloading Toland's journal?"

"Kain passed it over last night and I've already finished reading it," she said, "A lot of it is his personal life. Eris, Ikora, Vell and the like."

"Nothing about the Heralds? The Vex? With his research, he must've seen something."

"If we wanted to focus on the Vex, Osiris would be a much better source than Toland. Or Ikora. Even Asher."

"I'm not reading Asher's chicken scratch."

Aya snorted. "Well I have," she said, "And it says nothing on this Divisive. Though Fel has already told me so. No one's ever seen them."

Sora had guessed as much. Traveler forbid they ever get that lucky. She blew out a long sigh and fell back in her chair. Movement and light to the side of her vision caught her attention. A Crucible match. Their Crucible match. Jessie led her side in kills with Katrina, no doubt disliking being shown up in any regard, trailed closely behind. If she had joined them like she probably should have, she'd most likely see her name at the bottom of the list. The audience watching the match certainly would have.

"Sora?" Aya calmed her back to her books. Sora, apologizing quietly, took up one of the datapads. This one had been opened to Cabal heavy machinery, things they would likely deploy against something as big as…whatever the hell crawled out of that Gate. Goliath tanks and such, though the schematics do not seem to have changed much.

"What are the odds of them deploying one of these against the King's Gate?" She held the datapad up to Aya.

Aya drew closer. "Mm, Vex structures are sturdy," she answered, "But one or two of these could possibly take it down."

"Do they want it taken down or do they want it captured?" Sora scrolled through several more images.

"Would they even know what to do with it?"

"They must know something. Otherwise, they wouldn't be going through such lengths to hide what they know." Sora put the tablet down. "All I know is that we need to find the Heart and destroy it and this is our only way to do so."

"So they can't have it either way," The Ghost finishes. "She floated over to another tablet, staring downwards, reading. "Do the others know how to take one down?"

"I doubt Daniel's team does. I know Aro's team doesn't. The rest of us have before." Sora spoke but her eyes had turned back to the screen. The match was ending and Jessie managed to remain on top of her team, which had won.

"Another match starts soon," Aya told her, "Do you want to join them?"

Sora turned away. "No. They deserve a break from always having to drag me behind them."

"Sora…"

But the Warlock waved a hand, signaling her to forget it. "Send Zavala my suggestion. If they employ these in the Valley, everyone's going to need to know how to take one down."

"Alright. I'll let you know what he says." Sora nodded. Then stretching out her hand and calling on her Light, she called the tablet her Ghost had been looking at across the table towards her. This one concerned Cabal troop movements.

"Aya, could you draw on more current movements?"

"There's nothing new that you haven't already memorized."

"The basics, maybe."

Aya funneled what she could find to the datapad. "Why the Cabal and not the Vex?"

Sora responded, "Kayla and Aashir seem to have the Vex covered. I don't want the Cabal written off as a possible problem, so I'm taking them on myself."

"Hmm…"

One of Sora's eyes swiveled towards the Ghost. "What is it?"

"There have actually been some changes." The Ghost moved towards the center of the table and from its eye, projected what looked like the inner workings of a building, with several parts marked for indication. "This is a Clovis Bray facility on Mars. Satellites and scouts have seen increased activity there from the Cabal. From…Psion Flayers."

Sora stood up from her seat and rounded the table. She recognizes the facility. One of their teams had made their way through the area years ago though she can't recall what for. Before she was a part of the clan. Before she took her team to the Temple of Crota and got them involved in this whole mess. "Mark it," she says, "I want to look at it later."

She began to run through her knowledge of Psions and the Flayers. An elite group of Psions, they're known for their incredible telepathic and telekinetic powers. She's never had the misfortune to face one but she's heard the theories about how they may have moved Phobos from its original orbit to where it was now. The only thing that kept her from believing such theories was how terrifying it would be if true.

"How long since the change in troop movements?"

Aya cycled back through older reports. "About a year now. Maybe two," she responded.

Pre-Vault. But after the Moon. What were they doing in those areas? Sora's mind raced, even as the library began to darken around her and people began to filter out. She returned to her seat and began to bring up mission logs concerning that specific Clovis Bray facility. In the meanwhile, Aya looked up more on the Flayers. A cheer from outside distracts her for a second but only a second. To her credit, she didn't look. The battlefield was where her teammates did best. Libraries and labs were for her. Where she felt the most useful.

So she would be useful.

"Tell the Commander I'd like to speak to him," she said, "Tell him it concerns the Cabal."

Sora lifted her datapad, the one Aya had transferred the Clovis Bray map to. "And possibly, the Heralds".

The door sealed and locked behind Asura as soon as he was inside. Spirit confirmed for him that Aro wasn't there. He was alone.

Asura pulled out the chair to his desk and sat down. He reached under and pulled out a box, opening it to reveal a mess of parts and pieces. All meant to create a gun.

It was practically ceremonious at this point. He took them out one by one, placing each on the table in a fashion that would seem inordinately meticulous if it were at any other time. He moved them around, straightened them out and rearranged them until both his sense and his Ghost forced him to admit that he was just wasting time.

Asura sighed. Then he sighed again. Then once more for good measure before he closed his eyes.

The expected blackness came. Then a different kind as he dropped back into his own mind. The sounds of his room became distant. The noises outside, of people walking back and forth, talking, going about their day. His world was empty and silent now, with no one but him, his Ghost and one other."

"You reacted." Asura's voice echoed out in the space of his mind, pointed towards the curled up figure on the ground before him. "Diana came up behind me and you were the only one to see that she was there."

No response, as had been the case since the Vault. A year ago now. A year that had ended a few days earlier.

Now Wrath(A) had no excuse.

"Are you afraid of her," he asked. "She can't kill us. Not really." Asura's hand clenched and he took a knee before the figure, still careful not to touch him. "But she showed herself and you reacted. Even with all our power. Even with five other Guardians around who would've ended her if she even seemed prepared to really hurt me. You know this," he said. "So why are you afraid?"

Asura's question and his attempt at understanding were, once again, met with complete, frustrating silence. His eyes opened slowly, returning to the world and the pieces organized before him. His hand, real this time instead of imagined, clenched and opened repeatedly. He wanted to believe he didn't want this gun. That it was just another after effect of Wrath(A)'s memories being forced on him.

Spirit could feel his frustration rising, his anger and annoyance. She glided towards his front, moving to catch his downward turned eyes. "We can try this again another time," she suggested and she looks over his face and through his mind for an answer, since his voice refused to give one.

In truth, he saw no point. No point in attempting to communicate with Wrath(A), no point in asking for his help with this weapon that had become a permanent and nagging fixture in his head. No point in even continuing.

His own stubbornness caused his pain. Most people would crack at the way they had their identity ripped apart and forced back together over and over. At how horrifying memories would drift through their dreams only in parts; images of brutal violence and unbearable pain and grief but with nothing to explain them, Wrath(A) had arrived cracked. Now he was shattered. There was no point in trying again.

Asura reached over and picked up the grip; a thing of hard black leather meant for a hand cannon. Hawkmoon had always been a major inspiration. He moved it to the bottom of the desk, where he imagined it would be if he ever got the chance to finish. The barrel, at his left, was moved to his right. The outer frame, to the center. The hammer, towards the back. The underrail….

Asura's hand froze on the rail and he found himself staring at it with intent. It was intent he did not know or understand. He just looked at the small piece of black plasteel and somehow, deep down, knew it felt...wrong.

He pulled his hand back as soon as he remembered himself. Then he touched the muzzle. Nothing. He touched the outer frame. Nothing. He touched the cylinder. Nothing. He touched the scope….wrong.

He was in his own mind space almost immediately. "I know this is you, Wrath(A)," he says, holding the railing between his fingers. This one was imagined and still felt wrong. "What is it? What's wrong with this?"

Not a word of answer. Asura's fingers tightened around the railing both in his head and in real life and he felt himself move closer to the figure balled up on the ground, preparing to shake him out of silence, demand an answer. Another voice is what stops him. "That isn't going to do anything," Spirit reminds him.

"Talking wasn't doing much either!"

His Ghost, in his mind's eye, looks over at Wrath(A) on the ground then back to him. "Then let's not talk."

Asura returns to the real world, finding his hands still clenched in anger and his feet hard-pressed to the ground. He begins to relax, slowly and forcibly but surely. His shoulders lower, his legs lighten and his hands begin to open. Then he moves the railing and the scope to one side of the desk, away from the other pieces.

Fine. No talking. Now, he was just going to listen.

He put his hand to the trigger and waited. Feeling nothing, he moved it to one side. He touched the hammer again, feeling nothing as before. It joined the trigger. The cylinder...wrong.

"Spirit?"

"Cataloging everything. I'll run through Banshee's database when we're done here."

"Any part that seems adequate, run by me," he tells her. He touched another piece and his fingers remained. He wanted to say something. Anything. Thanks, maybe. Or some slight form of apology, even as he bristled at the thought of doing so. But he decided against saying anything. He wasn't talking. He was listening.

He moved the part over.