Sloth the Bladedancer, Part 3

Andal's first time in a jumpship was exhilarating. Excitement and terror in equal measures coursed through him as he boarded what he still couldn't believe was his very own. The ship's interior lighting brightened at his presence, as if roused from sleep. They had some time before their departure. The maintenance frames had already completed their final inspection but Thalia wanted him to see the inside for himself. She even quizzed him. Imagine that.

He could feel the engine rumbling beneath his feet, quiet and steady. In any other circumstance, it might have eased his nerves but not this. A scouting mission, Thalia had relayed. Given by Tallulah herself. Andal's first time in the field would involve going someplace, assessing a few areas of interest and then returning to the City. Simple as that. Minimal fighting, at most. None at all, if he was lucky. He wasn't known for his luck. This wouldn't be like the simulations nor would it be like the sparring frames, programmed to never actually beat you. This was real, where the wrong move at the wrong time could cost him his head, at best. He knew the mission, he knew the risks and he accepted them easily because, despite it all, that wasn't where his concerns lay.

"Thalia?" His voice was raspy, like he hadn't used it in days. "Call Akira for me?"

He could almost hear it. The silent, "Again?" in the look she gave him; so much expression in only one eye. Still, Thalia reached out. Her sleepy voice came through a few seconds later. Andal had forgotten that it was still morning, on a school day, no less. He hadn't slept for most of the night. As the ship warmed further, he asked his last questions; questions he had probably asked already. About food, clothing, contacts for an emergency. All things he had already arranged for well in advance.

"And you'll make sure the doors are locked before you go to sleep, right?"

"The doors lock themselves." Andal could feel the bite in her tone. Akira seemed to recognize it too because she immediately followed with, "I'll make sure."

"Right." Whatever questions Andal had left faded when Thalia cut in to let him know it was time to depart. His mouth shut with an audible sigh. Silence rang between them for a short while. They'd leave at Andal's discretion. He looked out the window, towards the Hangar opening, at the still-rising sun. "I'll message you when I can."

"Okay." Her voice sounded even smaller now. "I…" she started and stopped. Then, Akira just said, "Be careful, Andal."

"You too, Akira."

The call ended. Andal leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling the hours of missed sleep. Then, to Thalia, he said, "Begin ignition."

The ship began to tremble beneath him. He trudged towards the front and fell into the pilot's seat, putting his hands on the controls, just as he had been shown. The engine grew louder and louder until he knew it had reached its peak. With Thalia's assurances that she would guide him and take over if necessary, Andal gently pushed the thruster. The ship jerked and began to slide forward, keeping a slow, anticipatory pace until its nose reached the opening and the blast doors behind it were lifted. When the final clearance was given, Andal pushed the thruster to its max.

The takeoff threw him back in his seat and sent his heart racing. Even from within the ship, he could almost feel the wind tearing against his face, through his hair. The engine was roaring, reverberating in his head, his chest, his throat. It was Thalia who kept him grounded, kept the fear and exhilaration overwhelm him as it so clearly wanted to do. Through his pounding ears, he followed her instructions the best he could, piloting his ship as it hurtled further and further into the sky, the Traveler's size almost inconceivable up close. The sunlight pouring through his windows fell, becoming dimmer. White clouds parted around him, his ship shaking against the turbulence.

Then, it all stopped. The shearing wind, the thundering engines, everything around him went so silent, his ears were left ringing. With some self-prodding and no small amount of effort, Andal forced his hands to unclench, releasing the controls. He let his arms rest atop his knees for a few moments. Then, he used them to push off the seat and stand, taking one halting step after the other until he reached the nearest window and looked over the side.

Time had passed, of that, he was sure. What Andal couldn't guess was how long. How long had he been standing at the window, gazing into open space for the first time before Thalia finally got his attention. His legs and back were stiff and his shoulder had gone numb leaning against the window but he couldn't bring himself to care. To call the Earth's view from orbit breathtaking felt like an understatement. Not for the first time, Andal felt a pang of guilt at his literacy, or lack of it. He would never be able to describe this with the admiration it deserved.

A few days ago, it had been a few years to the day when he and his sister had left their parents' home. Planned for weeks, supplies were packed, routes were planned and when the chance came, they left in the dead of night. Not that they needed to be silent. Their father was in the tavern, drinking away his wages and their mother had occupied herself with a visitor and a locked door. The two of them walked long distances and tagged along with caravans. Andal earned whatever money he could in any way he could until they could afford passage on a boat; a trip Andal spent with his head over the side and his stomach never full. To think back on then and to see where they were now…

"Akira," he muttered aloud, "She'll want pictures. Thalia, can you-"

"Already taken a few." The Ghost sounded proud of herself. Despite the weight of his feelings, a light laugh managed to escape his throat. It took some doing, but Andal was able to drag himself away from the window and drop back into his chair. This time without Thalia's directions, he carefully maneuvered the ship, turning it around to face the planet. He entered the coordinates manually. Once the system had determined the most direct path, Andal slowly began their descent back to Earth.

"Andal?"

Thalia's voice roused him from an uneasy sleep. The ground had grown much closer and clouds no longer obscured his vision. His ship flew high over mountain ranges and grassy lowlands. "We're close?"

"We're close."

The ship took them over a stretch of snow-capped mountains. In the distance, Thalia pointed out smoke trails reaching the sky and told him that was where the Iron Temple sat.

Then, they reached the wastes, known now and back then as the Cosmodrome. He had only ever seen such things on their journey or in his sister's books. Ruins that were as massive as they were devastated; the sense of grandeur outdone only by the sense of loss and desolation. Shimmering metal, lost to centuries of rust and flame. Towering buildings, collapsed and sinking into the mud. The world seemed so small just an hour ago. And even smaller years ago, before Thalia, before the City.

One thought about his sister and he had to fight the urge to check in. He breathed, just as he had been taught to do when his nerves started to fray. This would be his first mission as a Guardian. His first fight, possibly his first death. But it was also the first time Akira would be without him. The latter worried him more. He searched for a landing spot while Thalia made contact with the scouts on the ground, the other Guardians he was meant to join. The sooner he was finished, the sooner he was home.

Thalia received their reply quickly. No voice transmission, just coordinates. From there, Andal quickly plotted a safe distance to land and began to push the ship towards the ground. Once they were level, he readied his weapons, pulling a sniper from the rack. It was heavy in his arms but well-crafted. In the short time he had known Banshee, Andal knew the weaponsmith made nothing less. He strapped it to his back as the ship brought him closer to the ground. Once they were hovering a safe distance above it, he sighed once more and gave Thalia the go-ahead.

The ship around him disappeared. His boots hit hard, dry earth. The even rumble of his ship's engines had grown into a deafening roar now that he was hearing it from the outside. Andal turned, raising his hand to shield his eyes as his ship rose slowly back into the air, twisting. It fired off, back on the path of its descent. Andal remained rooted in place until he could no longer see it.

Then, he turned his attention towards the wall, eyes starting at the base and traveling up its length, his neck craning. He adjusted the sniper sitting against his back, taking some measure of comfort in its weight. He started walking. Between him and the wall lay a graveyard; a field of rusted Golden Age vehicles that traveled to his left and right far beyond where eyes could see. As he drew closer, moved between the gaps, he saw more than cars. He saw people, centuries-old. Some lay within the cars, some on the ground in between. The feeling of tragedy weighed Andal down, slowing his steps. Something awful had happened here.

"Wait," Thalia said, aloud instead of in his head. Andal immediately obeyed, hand flinching towards the pistol on his hip but silent thoughts from his Ghost calmed him. Those thoughts then turned his attention downwards and Andal could immediately tell she hadn't meant to do so.

It was a foot, a bony one. Connected to a body or what was left of it. A skeleton, propped up against one of the cars, slumped over, skull hanging lazily to one side. There was something tied around its shin. A piece of cloth-

"Sorry." Andal nearly jumped again. Thalia moved their conversation inward. "It's just that I've been here a few times, looking for a Guardian and that body…it's always made me feel weird. I've heard other Ghosts say the same and…" She made a sound. Andal imagined her with a head, just to see it shake. "Forget it. Let's move on."

The distance to the wall was short but every step made it loom higher. Until Andal knew he would tip over if he tried to view all the way to its top from its feet. He'd see what it was hiding soon enough. His rifle at the ready, he knew this place to be a popular haunt for the Fallen. But as time drew on and he made his way down long walkways and through makeshift openings, the emptier it seemed. It struck him as unlikely the other scouts would have taken the same route he did and cleared the place in its entirety but he was not about to question such a blatantly good thing.

Soon enough, he was out in the sun again, crossing an old field known as the Divide. Just as empty, he made it through to the open building on the other end without a single bullet fired at his head. Nor a Guardian's armament. It made no matter, it was another expanse crossed and then another empty building to scurry through to reach the other side.

The Steppes were even bigger than the Divide. The latter was boxed in by smaller walls and ancient dams but here, Andal could see far off into the horizon, where the sun had nearly slipped under completely, a river flowing below to his left and a large, shallow pond against the walls of the building to his right.

He opened his comms. In his clearest voice, he said, "I'm here at the Steppes searching for the rendezvous."

To his surprise, the reply came almost immediately. A gruff voice answered, "I see you." Andal found himself looking around the rocky hills dotting the steps. He hadn't noticed any Guardians here either and it concerned him what else he might have missed. Thalia directs his attention to the small square building at the center of the Steppes; to the building and the hand atop it, waving him down.

Andal dropped down from the opening in the crumbling building and hit the ground running. He had garnered a reputation among his peers for being light on his feet, agile and swift; a skill as useful as it was unfortunate to have. His stride was even across the rocky, bumpy ground and as he neared the building, he began to build momentum. He jumped atop a nearby stack of metal carriers and then used those again to launch himself into the air.

As soon as he got close enough to the ledge, a hand lashed out and grabbed his wrist. With surprising strength, Andal found himself almost yanked onto the roof. Steadying himself and ensuring his rifle hadn't fallen off, he looked towards the others who were there. The one who had helped him returned to his partner at the center of the roof. When Andal's eyes adjusted, he saw two cloaks. They were both Hunters. He then saw glinting, moonlight reflecting off metal. They were both Exos. The other was lying flat on his back. Eyes closed, hands behind his head, he was in the middle of enemy territory and looked as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Cayde." The other Hunter had that rough voice, the same that answered the comms. Andal recognized the blue metal, the horn. Cayde didn't respond. "I'm turning on the heat lamp, Cayde." He produced one from his side, setting it down at the center of the circle they made. Cayde remained silent and still. The Hunter gave Andal a quick look. Then, he turned it on, bright light chasing away the shadows.

Without warning, Cayde's arm lashed out. Andal jumped and flinched away on instinct but the limb never came for him. Instead, It hooked under the first Hunter's lamp and flung it away, sending it careening through the air. It landed somewhere in the distance, too dark for any one of them to see. Cayde's arm returned to its original spot, as if nothing just happened. The first Hunter turned to Andal with a blank expression. Then, he winked and put his finger to his mouth. Andal only blinked but he did as silently told and said nothing. Out loud, the first Hunter said, "Suzume, mind grabbing me another one?" Another one never appeared. Instead, a bolt of Solar flame sparked between his palm and began to expand until it was bright enough to light up the night.

It was so well-predicted, Andal nearly thought he had done it on purpose. Cayde's arm shot out once more, grasping for the new lamp. His hand landed directly within the Solar Light and he let out a loud and undignified yowl. Cayde's body jerked so hard, it practically bounced in place and at the same time, the first Hunter was getting up to his feet. He kicked at Cayde's body, rolling him like a ball until he reached the edge. One final shove and Cayde tumbled off the roof, landing on the ground below with a hard thud.

"You owe me a new lamp, jackass!" The first Hunter called down. A long groan returned as a response.

Andal watched the entire exchange with his jaw low. The Hunter returned to his original place, stoic but clearly proud of himself. He gestured to where Cayde once lay. "Seat's open if you want it." The Solar flame was still there, strong and swaying in between them. "Have you eaten?"

He had managed to get down something small before he left but not since then. Before Andal could decline anyway, the Exo pulled out something from one of his many pockets and tossed it to him. Andal's hand shot up to catch it, almost of its own accord. The sudden agility was what surprised him the most. It took a second for him to realize what it was; a stick of jerky. "You got a name, kid?"

After a moment of hesitation, he answered, "Andal. Andal Brask."

The Hunter hummed." Shiro. Shiro-4," he said back in an imitation of Andal that got a small, shy smile out of him. He jerked a thumb to the Ghost that appeared over his shoulder, "Suzume." He reached into his pocket again, retrieved another piece of jerky and swung his arm back. "And our moron down there…," he tossed it over the roof. They both heard the sound of it hitting metal, followed by a startled grunt. "Is Cayde-6."

Andal looked back at the ledge where Cayde had fallen. "Will he be alright?"

Shiro snorted. "Unfortunately."

Cayde never rejoined them on the roof. Andal neither saw nor heard him until morning when they began to prepare for departure. When asked by Shiro, Cayde claimed that the dry, scratchy grass had been easier to endure than the effort of waking up. When Andal introduced himself, the horned Exo's eyes brightened. "Ahh. Tallulah's new favorite. Surprised she let you out of the crib."

Andal felt his cheeks heat up. It must have shown because he could hear Shiro chuckle as he broke their camp. It was hard to miss, Tallulah paying him more attention than others. She would even take a personal hand in his training whenever her time away allowed it. It was curious but Andal had never gathered the courage to ask. Not that it mattered. She managed to gather a terrifying amount of information on him and his sister without their knowledge and she had once called on him to fill in gaps. He tried the best he could. He never told her about their parents.

Akira flashed through his mind again and he had to keep his hands from squeezing. A creeping dread wrapped around his heart. Leaving her alone had never been a good thing. Old habits died hard, even in a new place and Andal wasn't sure old fears ever did. Every day he was away from her agitated him more and more so when he spoke up again, it was a bit rougher than he meant to. "When are we going?"

Shiro tied off a bag and Suzume returned it to his ship. "Do you know where we're going?"

Andal's face heats up again. "Wasn't given much. Was just sent to find you." Tallulah had been secretive on the details. It was strange for a new Guardian's first mission, as well as against protocol, as well as unsafe. But when she showed him what he'd be paid, a third of the total bounty, any complaints he might have had died in his throat.

"Well, the three of us just finished scouting the Steppes. Next place we head…" He pointed east, towards the rising sun, "Is called the Mothyards." He tied off another bag and tossed it at Cayde's back. He twisted around and caught it, all in one smooth motion.

Shiro held out the last bag to Andal. As he secured it, he saw Cayde leap off the roof but never heard him hit the ground again. What he heard instead was the gentle, even hum of a Sparrow appearing and coming to life. Shiro walked to the ledge, Andal in tow. Both looked down to see Cayde driving his Sparrow around in circles, leaving a flat, circular trail of grass in his wake.

Shiro jumped and after a breath, Andal stepped over as well. Cayde had moved out of the way as soon as they did, Sparrows appeared beneath the pair of them. Cayde took point, guiding them out of the Steppes and towards their next destination. Piloting off the training paths was a challenge but Andal took to it well. He followed them down a well-worn, curving path until the Mothyards opened up to them, a wide open field full of ancient vehicles, rusted and broken almost beyond recognition. Much like where he first landed but from the wings, he could tell that these had been meant for aerial travel. "Did the Fallen take these apart?" He asked his Ghost.

"They definitely hollowed them out," she answered, "But we found them downed a long time ago. No one's sure what happened."

Cayde takes them around towards a mountainous back wall that bordered the southern end of the Mothyards, up to one of the vehicles, half-buried in such a way that it had one exposed wing pointed up to a small hole near the top of the wall. An opening to some kind of cave.

"Here," Cayde said, dismounting. Andal did the same, watching as he jumped high into the air, jumped again and grabbed onto the vehicle's wing, hauling himself up. Running up the wing, Cayde leapt off the end, sailing over the gap to land squarely at the entrance of the cove, disappearing within. Shiro was already halfway up the wing by the time Andal looked back at him. When Andal joined them, he found a bag flying towards his face. "Make camp. Keep it small." Shiro jerked his head a bit deeper into the cave, at a rough stone wall. When it became clear that they had no intention of helping him, Andal started on his own. Shiro and Cayde had taken his spot near the mouth of the cavewhen he moved deeper.

Just under the noise of his work, he could hear them speaking. They kept their tones low and a few times, he noticed eyes flicking away from him. As soon as he was done laying out their supplies, Shiro and Cayde separated. Shiro cleared his throat. "Alright kid, this is how things are gonna work." He waved Andal over to the entrance and then pointed east. Andal's attention was drawn towards a building atop a steep hill, a satellite dish at its crown. "Cayde and I have our own business up in the Skywatch. We're gonna head there now."

"You and…" Andal looked over at Cayde, who only shrugged. "What will I be doing?"

"You'll be staying here, watching the entrance from a distance," Shiro told him, "Keep an eye out for any Fallen ships that begin dropping soldiers off."

"Stay here?" Andal had to stop himself from finishing with 'on my own' just so he wouldn't sound as afraid as he was. Quietly, he asked his Ghost if she could access Tallulah's instructions. She confirmed she could, that Shiro's Ghost had sent it to her as they were talking. It was just as he suspected, nothing in the mission specs mentioned the Skywatch and more than that, nothing mentioned the need to split up.

Something was wrong but he was quick to suppress any urge he had to speak up. He asked Thalia to do the same. He needed this job. He needed the money. His sister needed the money. Any punishments Vanguard command had to dole out, he would take. As long as he was paid.

Shiro and Cayde left later in the day, around sunset. After Andal "agreed" to the plan, of course; as if he had any other option. He watched the trails of their Sparrows grow more and more distant until they disappeared into the Skywatch. He stepped back from the entrance to the cave, leaning against the stone wall and after a moment, he slid down to sit. He pulled back his hood and worked his helmet off his head, sighing with relief when the cool air struck his skin.

The sun was gone now. Just as before, Old Russia's night sky was bright and clear, the moon and stars casting an odd, lonely glow to the ruined land. And further away, closer to the shore, Andal saw shapes; dark figures he could just barely make out. But they moved, too deliberately to be imagined. That told him all he needed to know.

This wasn't the first time Andal had seen Fallen. When he was younger, before Akira had been born, a raiding party had attacked their village. An extreme rarity, as they had little of value to offer. He had been in town with his father when the raiders stormed in on their Pikes, loud and brash, as if they didn't care if they were heard. Before, he had attributed it to cockiness but now, Andal couldn't help but wonder if they had done it on purpose. Made so much noise that people would scatter, rather than face them. No one had died, after all. Less resistance, fewer deaths. Maybe he was giving them too much credit. Maybe he liked to think there was more to the Fallen than the monsters hunting humanity for the last several centuries.

Once the alarms went up and the Fallen could be heard and seen racing, his father grabbed hold of him and lifted him like it was nothing. He took off through town with Andal in tow, faster and longer than someone his size should have been able to manage, especially with a child in his arms. He had taken them all the way back to their home, even barreling down a Dreg who had gotten into their path. His father remembered it because his back never recovered from the strain and as a laborer, he had to work through the pain every day; another grievance he decided to take out on his own child.

But Andal? He only remembered it because more than the confusion, more than terror, it was the last time he had felt protected. The last time his father used his strength to keep him from harm. The last time either of his parents had held him.

Andal suddenly found himself cold, as if the wind was piercing his armor. He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around himself. He continued to watch the Mothyard, noting the movement of Fallen ships and the Fallen themselves. None got close enough to the Skywatch to warrant further action, as his improvised directions indicated. With nothing to do but watch, his mind began to drift. He had never been able to get very far. The walls around him shook as a Fallen Skiff exited its cloaking field. It flew over the ruins of the Mothyards, Andal's position just barely missing its line of sight as it descended towards the Skywatch.

One day, he would look back and find the signs to be obvious. The Skiff paying him no mind, the sound of creaking metal too harsh to have just been the wind, the near-silent crackle of Arc energy. But today wouldn't be that day. As soon as Thalia sent the alert to Shiro and Cayde, the Fallen were on him with silence and such deadly precision, it was a wonder he had even seen it coming.

By the time he realized he was being attacked, he was already tumbling to the ground, bowled over by the swipe of an arm aimed at his unprotected head. He could feel the pain of broken skin and even the wet heat of blood but no pain. Tallulah told him that would be the case but he never believed her.

Andal rolled and kept rolling until he could right himself at a distance. Standing at the entrance of the cavewere three Fallen Vandals, draped in blood-red cloaks and bone-white armor. Andal's eyes flitted between each of them, noting their distance, their weapons, their postures, his hand trembling with anticipation; waiting for the first move to be made.

He would make it himself. He pulled the pulse rifle from his back and at the same time, he was charged, the Fallen dropping to a lower height in order to cross the distance faster. The closest jumped to the side just as he fired, narrowly avoiding the spray. A second Vandal ran in at his side, a blade brandished. Taking the pulse rifle in both hands, Andal blocked and shoved it away, ramming the butt of the gun into the Vandal's chest.

He managed to kick it away and duck to the side as the first Vandal let loose several Arc bolts from its own rifle. He fired again, deliberately at their feet to force the pair to scatter and as soon as they did, he focused his attention on just one, the rifleman. The Vandal ducked low again, preparing to run but with a knife already in hand, Andal tossed it into the wall just ahead of it, forcing it to come to a skidding stop. It tried to ready its own weapon but it was too late; Andal already had it dead to rights.

His finger pushed the trigger down but stopped halfway. He twisted around just in time to block another overhead strike from the blade-wielder Vandal with his gun. Again, he shoved it away. Again, he readied himself to fire upon it…

Not feeling pain in a fight was a new experience and more than that, it was unsettling. That he couldn't feel the blows he took, the wound on his head, the blood crusting against his face was unnerving. And when the shock blade shoved its way into his back, through his ribcage and into his organs, it felt no different.

The third Vandal, the one who had cloaked itself as soon as the fight had started, had made its move and it had been a decisive one. It seemed to know that, twisting and shoving the blade even deeper, possibly in order to pull a scream of agony from their foe. A shame for them that he still felt none.

What he could feel was the blade being torn from his back. When it was, he felt neither heat nor his own legs. He could feel himself drop but not his knees hitting the ground. He could feel heat leaving his body but not the blood seeping from the wound. Still no pain; not in his chest as his heart began to skip beats, not in his head when the blood flow began to cease.

The spark formed in his chest and spread out to every limb, weakly at first. But then it pulsed again and again, each stronger than the last. With them returned sound. With them finally came pain. With them came the overwhelming urge to breathe.

Andal opened eyes he never remembered closing. He pushed against the ground he could not remember falling against. He didn't know how long he had been out, only that their backs were away from him. They were loudly shoving their things around at the back of the cave, searching for something, snapping incessantly at each other. He breathed deeply, as if he hadn't done so in years and slowly, the pounding in his head and chest grew quiet. Thalia's voice, calm and gentle but firm as could be, broke through the last of the fog in his head.

"Just like we practiced."

Their only warning was the metallic sound of a blade slipping from its sheath. When the first Vandal turned, Andal's knife struck it across the face, shattering its rebreather and sending Ether spewing into the air. Following the motion through, Andal ducked under the arm that swung wildly for his head, twisting at the heel and jamming his knife into the second Vandal's side. The Fallen barely had time to respond before a vicious, Arc-filled fist struck it in the face, just as Tallulah had said, "Quick as lightning. As hard as thunder." as quick as lightning and as hard as thunder. The punch knocked the Vandal flat and using his foot, Andal shoved the knife even deeper into its abdomen.

The last Vandal, the one who had killed him, had retreated into the shadows, cloaking again. Andal ripped his knife from the dead Fallen and held it out in front of him, arms tense, grip reversed. He waited…and he waited…

He smelled it, a hint of ozone. Like the wind after a storm. Like the Arc when it coursed through his fingers.

The Vandal jumped at him. Andal ducked away just in time to feel the static of the shock blade beneath his armor. The Vandal sprung backwards, returning to the shadows, reactivating its cloak, trying to reset the engagement once again but Andal had it. He timed the Vandal's movements and as hard as he could, Andal flung the knife directly ahead of him. Camouflage breaking, the Vandal managed to jerk backwards, the knife just barely grazing its faceplate and lodging in the rock wall behind it.

But as soon as the knife had left Andal's hand, his body had ignited in Solar Light; so when the Vandal dodged left, the barrel of the Golden Gun was trained exactly there, ready and waiting. The Vandal's mind was sharper than its reflexes but that only served to show it what was going to happen next and see that there was no way out.

The Solar shot pierced Vandal's chest and struck the wall behind it, leaving a perfect hole, black and smoking. The Fallen made no noise of pain or despair as its weapons clattered to the ground. It just looked at Andal, eyes full of malice with just a hint of what Andal thought was respect. The Vandal collapsed, Ether streaming from the fatal wound.

When Andal first became a Guardian, he knew this was the reality of what he had to do. He was going to have to fight. He was going to have to die. He was going to have to get back up, fight again and he was going to have to kill. Something he had never done before. Something he had never imagined doing before, not even on the worst days at home, where shouting and sobbing and his own bruises kept him from sleeping.

But when he turned his eyes on his handiwork, the three corpses left at his feet, he felt…nothing. No disgust, no sadness, no regret, not even anger. He just wanted to go back to his sister. He just wanted to go home.

At Thalia's urging, he arranged the bodies in a pile and burned them. Better than depositing the bodies outside and possibly drawing attention. Then, he returned to his post, as if nothing had happened, as if the cave wasn't marked with bullet holes. He slowly sat down in his original place and resumed his watch, never moving, never taking his eyes away until the sun began to break the horizon again.

Cayde and Shiro returned a few hours later, covered in dirt and reeking of ash. To his surprise, Andal was greeted with a hand from Cayde. He took hold and was pulled to his feet with surprising strength. He rolled his neck and shoulders, trying his best to work out the stiffness and mostly failing.

"Eyes up, Andal!" Andal just barely managed to catch the bag thrown at his face. He just stared at it dumbly. T

As if reading his confused thoughts, Shiro said, "We're going home. C'mon, help us pack."

"Don't we still have two more-"

"How many Fallen?" Cayde asked before Andal could demand an explanation. His eyes were on the holes in the ground as well as the discarded shock blades.

"Three. I burned the bodies."

"Smart," he quipped, "Also explains the smell." Cayde shrugged his shoulders. "Not surprising you were attacked. They…'lost' something important a few days back. Got it stashed in here somewhere. How about this…" Cayde tied off a bag and tossed it away from the others. The bag transmatted before it could hit the ground. "We'll pack and you start digging."

He looked to Shiro, who gestured for him to go on. Cayde pointed him towards a pile of large stones, broken from the rock wall just above them. Originally, Andal had just assumed it to be a natural part of the scenery but upon closer inspection, he found the pile too well-put together; gaps between each boulder that could be seen through had been covered by another. And the Fallen had been there when Thalia revived him…

Andal was drenched beneath his armor by the time he had pushed the top half away. Hidden, just as Cayde had said, was a box, large and filled to the brim with scrap. He hauled it out of its spot, towards the center of the cave. "What's in it?" Andal asked, unable to determine for himself.

Before any response could be made, all three turned at the sound of an approaching jumpship. "A surprise," Cayde said, sending the box to his ship and going along with it.

They were really leaving. The report said they still had some time. Nothing about this was lining up for him. Or for Thalia, which really frightened him. He didn't know enough about what they were doing to argue with the two older Hunters. At the end of it all, as long as he got paid.

"Something on your mind, kid?" Andal jumps at the sound of Shiro's quiet voice so close beside him. It wasn't a surprise he noticed Andal's discomfort; every Fallen for miles could probably smell his fear. What was surprising was the way his eyes dimmed and his voice grew even softer. "Trust us. You'll appreciate this."

Suzume took him in. Andal watched as Shiro's ship turned and followed Cayde's back into the sky. His own ship was making its descent but it had a short while before it reached him.

So Andal leaned against the wall again and waited, taking in the Cosmodrome as he did.

They took the long way back to the City. The "scenic route" Cayde called it.

Despite his exhaustion, Andal spent most of it speaking. Shiro had a lot to ask, about his life, present and past. He had a lot to say as well, about where his Ghost found him, about his journey up to that point, about meeting Cayde. Cayde remained mostly silent but from the little sounds that Andal could hear, he knew Cayde had left comms open and was listening to every word they said.

When the clouds parted and revealed the City and the Traveler, Andal realized how long it had been since Akira crossed his mind. The guilt of it stung him somewhat, as if it was wrong to think about himself, even if just for a moment. The urge to call her came and went when he took notice of the blue sky and low sun; it was barely dawn. His nerves would just have to make do.

Shiro had him turn in the box of scrap to one of the shipwright's frames. Afterwards, he was to meet them in the Vanguard Hall to debrief with the Vanguard. Andal swallowed his discomfort and did as he was asked.

He found them where Shiro said they would be, off in a corner of the Hall, talking to Tallulah in low tones, away from other ears. Andal took some measure of comfort in that. If Tallulah was the only one they'd have to deal with, maybe they would be better off. Still, he stands near the entrance, watching them, rooted to the spot.

Tallulah was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and nodding to something that was said. Without once looking away from Cayde or Shiro, she raised her hand and gestured for Andal to approach.

With some effort and no small amount of willpower, Andal obeyed, shoulders and neck tight with worry. "Your fireteam was just catching up on the details. Told me that there was a bit of a last-minute change in plans."

Andal's eyes flicked nervously to Shiro. He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, m-" She didn't like to be called 'ma'am'. "Yes, there was."

"Strange call but a good one, seeing as it allowed your team to finish two bounties earlier than expected."

When Andal's eyes flicked to Shiro again, they had gone from nervous to questioning. The Steppes and then the Mothyards. That was their responsibility.

"Cayde and I actually retracted our claim to the bounty. We went on to take care of one after I bought nothing."

She looked back at him, searching his face for duplicity. "Andal, you didn't go with them?"

This time, it was Cayde who spoke before he could muster up any kind of response. "Andal kept the Mothyards closed off from the Fallen while we worked in the Skywatch.

"That's not all," Cayde continued. His Ghost, monitoring its completion The bounty disappeared and another took its place. "Shipwright's been looking to experiment with Fallen jump drives for a while now. And if you look here, he just got some this morning." Cayde leaned in and pointed at a name. One name.

Tallulah's eyes darted between the three of them, stony-faced until, to Andal's surprise, a small smile crossed her lips. She hummed. "I'll make sure the bounty rewards are divided accordingly," she said, "Not bad for your first job, Andal." She clapped his shoulder, gentler than she usually did. "Head home. Don't need you keeling over on my floor."

Shiro and Cayde walked ahead of him towards the exit, locked in their own conversation. Andal trailed behind, hands hanging at his sides, eyes towards the ground. He stopped. "What did she tell you?"

The Vanguard Hall was filling as the dawn turned into the morning. Despite this, Andal knew he didn't need to raise his voice to be heard nor did he need to call them by name for the two of them to know he was talking to them. Both stopped, sharing a look before turning to him. Andal stared back unblinking, waiting.

"Enough," it was Shiro who answered him, holding Andal's gaze. "Not everything but enough."

"Enough for you to ensure I got most of the reward?" Thalia had calculated what he'd be receiving and it was easily twice what he had expected to make.

Shiro shrugged easily. "Sure. Help you get up on your feet."

"But why? Why help me? You don't even know-"

"Listen, kid." Cayde-6 cut him off. Of the few times Andal had seen him, this was the most serious. "Not everything needs explaining, alright? Sometimes, things just happen and sometimes, those things are good. Trust me, you'd be better off rolling with it than trying to dissect it."

Andal's mouth opened and closed again. He was being ungrateful. "I understand. I…" he had more he wanted to say but then he realized how little it mattered, so he just said instead, "Thank you. I owe you both."

Cayde's eyes brightened. An Exo's smile. "Meet us for drinks sometime. We'll gladly collect then. With interest, of course."

Andal nodded and returned with a smile of his own that was tired and resigned but entirely genuine.

"Get some rest, Andal," Shiro said, turning around again and resuming his departure, "We'll be calling on you again."

Had a whole apology planned for such a late upload but forget it. I'm training to become a doctor so life is a bit busy sometimes. But short of something terrible happening to me, I will see this story through to the end.