Just Another Job

Somewhere in the depths of the moon..

Echoes of shots ring out throughout the caves, the vibrations of them causing some loose rocks to fall directly onto the head of a Hive acolyte. It looks up then towards the direction the sounds came from, readying its weapon. A quiet chittering noise escapes it as its alien body tenses up. A figure turns the corner, and the acolyte lets out a loud screech to try and alert its allies. A shot rings out and the acolyte falls to the ground, silenced. The figure holsters his revolver and walks over the body of the acolyte. He taps it with his boot.

"If I'd known this job was gonna involve this many Hive, I'd have asked for double our usual service. His ghost materializes next to his head and taps the brim of the old western style hat on his Guardian's head.

"Oh don't lie. You know you love to.. Thin the herd." The ghost chirps out. There's a moment of silence before the Guardian looks at his ghost and says

"You got me there." A second later, another screech sounds off somewhere deeper in the cave, followed by a deeper roar. The unmistakable sound of an ogre.

"Let's get this job done soon, though." The ghost says. "I don't care how easily you can kill the hive; they always make my shell itch."

"Agreed." The guardian says before continuing to walk down the tunnel, his ghost dematerializing from the air behind him.

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The guardian walks confidently though the streets of the Last City. He'd expected to have to push through the crowds, but the people around him seemed almost scared to touch him.

"No. That's not right." He thinks to himself. "They aren't scared. They just respect their Guardians."

They part around him as he walks and rejoin behind him as if he has a force field that makes it impossible for them to get near him. He wished they knew that he wasn't part of their Vanguard, and that they didn't need to treat him like a savior. At the same time, he wasn't about to correct them. The fact that they got out of his way meant that he could very easily travel the streets, with little to no interruption. The only thing that broke the silence was his ghost commenting on a shop they passed by. She materialized and floated over to the window, looking inside.

"Ooh! They have guns for sale here! You should go in and see if they have anything you might like!" His ghost said cheerfully in his helmet comms.

"You know I'm not in the market for anything new." He replied. "Besides, even with nobody in my way, we might be late to the meeting." His ghost didn't reply but he could tell from the quiet chirping noises that she was unhappy. The guardian lets out a sigh.

"Fine, you win. After the meeting we can go and look through the shops for something. Maybe a decoration or two for the console back on the ship." His ghost immediately hovers back to him, excitedly saying

"Awesome! It's been so long since I was here, I just wanna see everything new!" The guardian just gives her a look in response.

"But.. You're right. We can do sightseeing later."

The ghost bashfully dematerializes, leaving the guardian for the most part, alone. He turns down a quiet back street, entering the shadowy twisting pathways that make up the backbone of the Last City. He walks down the spaces between the buildings and eventually makes it to a large metal door. He raps his gloved knuckles on it and has his ghost dematerialize just his helmet but leave his hat. A sliding panel screeches open, and an ugly man inside looks at the guardian before closing the panel and opening the door. The man holds out his hand.

"Gotta check yer gun." When he speaks, the guardian can see he's missing at least a few teeth. The man kept his hand in the air, waiting expectantly.

"Uh.. No. I'll be keeping my gun." The guardian responds, his mechanical face glowing a dark blue as he speaks.

"Boss's rules." The man's voice changes to attempt to sound more threatening. "Check. Your gun."

"No." The guardian replies again, resting his hand on the dark wooden grip of the old golden age revolver he had on his hip.

"Well then I think I'm gonna have to-" The man is cut off in the middle of his sentence.

"Have to what? Take it from me?" The guardian asks. He chuckles and drops his voice volume so only the man could hear him "Is it really worth your life?" The man freezes, his eyes going wide. This makes the guardian instantly laugh, hitting the man lightly in the shoulder. "I'm just Joking around, man. But seriously, if you really want this revolver, you're gonna die trying to take it from me."

With that, the guardian tips his hat and continues into the dimly lit building. His ghost scolds him in his comms, so only he can hear, but he ignores her. The cramped hallway opens up into a large room with a group of men around a table, all seeming to be playing the same game. Something to do with cards. It didn't matter at all to the guardian; it was all foreign to him. When he approaches the table one of the men calls out loudly

"If it isn't my favorite lightbearer!" He motions to the guardian and says to his friends at the table "This guy is nothing if not consistent. Every job I send him on, he returns successful." The men all glance at the guardian standing next to the table.

"Tyran. I think this matter is best talked about in private." The guardian says, looking at the other men around the table.

"Alright boys. Pack it up. We'll continue this later." The man known as Tyran says. One of his friends gumbles something, but at the sight of the gun on the guardian's hip he shuts up and leaves without another word. When the men have all left the room, the guardian says

"Trained your dogs well, I see." He takes a seat at one of the spots the men was sitting at, across from Tyran.

"Well, I have you to thank for that." Tyran says. He leans back in his chair, interlacing his fingers on his sizable stomach. The guardian looks at him for what feels like the millionth time. His hair still seemed to be retreating backwards from his forehead, and he had some thick dark gray stubble along his cheeks and partially down his large neck. His thick accent has a way of making everything he says sound intimidating. Well, intimidating to the average person. The guardian was no average person.

"You're getting old, Tyran." The guardian observes aloud. "I hate the walk, by the way. You should just let me transmat down here."

"And you're getting cocky." Tyran replies, pointing a fat finger at the guardian. "And you know I can't let you do that, or the Vanguard would be all over me in an instant. Never mind your whining." He says, returning he hands to folded on his stomach. "Did you find it?" He asks, the closest thing to excitement at the edge of his voice. The guardian nods. A moment later, a large cylindrical object with Hive glyphs adorning it in rings around its circumference materializes on the table between the two men.

"Found it at a ritual site at the end of a couple miles of tunnels under the surface of the moon." The guardian says. Then, against his better judgement, he asks ".. What is it?" The moment it touches the table, Tyran leans forward as much as he can, fighting his own gut.

"That, my boy.. Is a Hive Cryptoglyph." His voice contains audible awe and reverence. "It's and incredibly rare and powerful source of Hive magic." The guardian is silent for another few moments, then breaks the silence.

".. So are you gonna pay me, or..?" he asks, looking between the relic on the table and Tyran.

"Yes, yes. Here's your glimmer. 5 Thousand. Like we agreed." Tyran replies, then presses a button on his chair, causing a sizable chunk of glimmer to appear on the table in front of the Guardian. As soon as his ghost dematerializes the glimmer, the guardian slides his chair back and stands up.

"Well if that's all, then I'll be heading out." He says, tipping his hat at Tyran. "You know where to contact me if-"

"Not so fast. I've got another job for you." Tyran says, cutting him off. He was the only person the guardian knew that dared do that. "Bounty this time, though. Brand new."

"You know I don't like bounties, Tyran." The guardian said tiredly. "Leave those to your other guy. What's his name? Tex or something like that?" Tyran shakes his head.

"Tex is off world, and already on another job. It has to be you." His expression turns more grim than it usually is as he continues on. "I know you're not my bounty guy, so already it's a lot to ask of you. But there's something else about this job. Something.. Worse." He doesn't say anything else, prompting the guardian to inquire further.

"What is it, Tyran? What's makin' you shake in your shoes like a kid watching crucible for the first time?" the guardian asks, leaning on the table with his palms flat on the surface. Tyran is silent for another minute and when he finally speaks, he does so very quietly.

"The target is another guardian." His voice is barely above a whisper, though the guardian across from him heard him easily.

"Are you.. Tyran, are you being serious right now?" the guardian asks, incredulous. Tyran nods and the guardian continues "Oh for crying out loud, Tyran. Why don't you just go ask me to blow up the Traveler?" Tyran lets out a tired sigh.

"It pays very well." He says to the guardian who was currently pacing back and forth across from him.

The guardian stops and looks at him then waves a hand.

"Forget it. I don't wanna know how well it pays." Another handful of seconds pacing later the guardian stop and looks at Tyran again. "How well are we talking?" Instantly his ghost starts scolding him in his ear about daring to even consider taking the job.

"One hundred thousand glimmer." Tyran says.

"I'll take the job." The guardian says, though the words were out of his mechanical mouth before he even knew he said them. Tyran reaches into his pocket and grabs a small handkerchief which he uses to dab the sweat off his brow. He proceeds to give the guardian all the details of the job including the target's name, where to find them, what class of guardian they were, etc.

"One more thing." Tyran says just before the guardian is about to leave. "You need to bring back the remains.. Of their ghost." The guardian says nothing and leaves without another word.

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The guardian puts his hat on a rack near the controls to his ship, then places a few trinkets on the dashboard.

"Look, Rust. I already said I was sorry." He says, but his ghost wasn't having it.

"How could you agree to do that?" She scolds, incredibly upset. "That's like.. Like.. Agreeing to go out and kill me!"

"No it's not, and you know it." He says, though he wasn't fully convinced of his own words.

"Oh if I had a body, I would slap you right now." Rust says, hovering to the other end of the cockpit.

"Rust. With a hundred thousand glimmer, we could buy you a body. I'm sure the Vanguard has some kind of technology to put a ghost into a decommissioned exo frame." He sits in the pilot's chair. "Besides, it's not gonna be that bad. I'll just use a-" A hard stare that really felt more like a glare stops him mid-sentence. He clears his throat, though out of awkwardness instead of necessity. "I'll just.. Keep the details to myself then." He spins the pilot's seat around and starts inputting the coordinates Tyran gave him into the nav computer. Rust floats over and idles near his head as he types.

"You'd better promise me that you're gonna make it quick." She says coldly.

"I promise." He replies, without even looking at her.

"And promise me that this is just for the money. Not for any other reason." She says.

"Why for the money?" He asks. "That's the opposite reason people usually want to hear."

"I need to know that it's for the money and not because of any malice or anything you might feel towards the target." She says, knowingly.

There's a long silence as he stops typing. Eventually he turns his head and looks at his ghost.

"I promise, Rust." He says. She's close enough that the glow from his speech gently lights up her shell. She doesn't say anything for a while, so he continues to type the coordinates in. After a minute she finally responds.

"Good." She says, then after another few seconds she says "Did I ever tell you that I really don't like the name you chose?"

"Oh for.. Rust. Yes. You've told me many times." He says, turning the pilot seat to face her fully. "And for the last time, I chose it because it's what I do."

"Yeah alright then.. Delve." She says. He can't prove it, but Delve assumes that if she was physically capable, Rust would be smiling ear to ear.

"Just.. Call me D. You know that." He says, then finally finishes typing in the coordinates. "Alright. Off we go." He says, then slams the throttle forwards, lurching his ship into a jump.