There's a reckonin' a-comin'
And it burns beyond the grave
With lead inside my belly
'Cause my soul has lost its way
Oh Lazarus, how did your debts get paid?
Oh Lazarus, were you so afraid?
Blood on My Name – The Brothers Bright
June 05, 2960, 10:58; The Last City, Earth
Azra didn't really hear what Ikora was saying. She could feel the implications of it in the Light- the grief, the anger. The words themselves were just a dull roar in her ears.
She stood in the corner of the room, half-concealed in the shadows. The two remaining members of the Vanguard were closer to the center, closer to Cayde's body. The corpse was covered in a tasteful sheet of white fabric emblazoned with symbols of the Vanguard. It was there for modesty, so they didn't have to stare at Cayde's broken, twisted corpse. It was a particularly cruel twist of fate that the fabric did absolutely nothing to block the stale feel of Cayde's Light that still clung to his body.
Ikora Rey was swearing vengeance. Vengeance for Cayde and her fireteam. Azra absentmindedly wondered if she'd done the same for Andal when he'd been killed all those years ago. Even if she had, Cayde had personally taken that payback into his own hands. Ikora wouldn't have had a part in it.
Ikora was uncharacteristically angry now. Unrighteously so. She wanted suffering as repayment.
Zavala spoke in weary rejection. He was mourning, too, but quieter. More defeated. He didn't want revenge, he wanted to curl up in an emotionless ball and sleep away this nightmare. He was dragged at by another hundred worries- and the tension between that and his grief for Cayde was tearing him apart.
Ikora called him a coward and he didn't even flinch.
And they were both right. This… this couldn't go unanswered. Cayde-6 had been murdered. Baited into an ambush and killed on purpose. They brought Ghost-killing weapons and waited until Sundance was out to take their shot. They'd beaten him to death and stolen his gun. Azra wasn't one for revenge, but this had to be repaid in blood. Every part of her sensibilities demanded it. Every breath in her lungs, every beat of her heart.
But everyone would be thinking that. It was one of Cayde's charms- he could seem annoying, but he was really good at endearing himself to people. The entirety of the Hunter class would be screaming for Uldren's death. Half of the Warlocks and Titans, too. If Ikora called- hell, even if she didn't, even if she explicitly forbade it, the Reef would be overrun by Vanguard forces before the week was out.
But they couldn't just stop patrols in the EDZ because someone had died, even if that someone was Cayde. And flooding the reef with thousands of angry Guardians would just cause chaos- chaos their enemies could capitalize on. It wouldn't fix anything.
Azra took a deep breath and pulled her focus back into the present.
"I refuse to bury any more friends," Zavala intoned.
"You won't have to," Azra decided. Both Ikora and Zavala turned their heads towards her, surprised- those were the only words she'd spoken since entering the room. She held out her hands and Spark materialized Cayde's old cloak (once Andal's old cloak) for her. She felt the fabric, once heavy enough to fall dramatically about Andal's frame, now worn thin with decades of abuse. "Uldren Sov is mine," she hissed.
"Azra," Ikora said, aghast. "You can't simply-"
"I am claiming dibs. As is my right," Azra said. She unclasped her own cloak and let it slide off of her shoulders. She fastened Cayde's on instead. She could take up this cause. Nobody else needed to get involved. Their other objectives in the system didn't need to be abandoned for this vengeance.
"Azra… you lost," Zavala intoned.
"Not yet," she swore.
"The Vanguard Dare, Azra," Ikora said.
So people stopped by to say a few words and she managed to put an expression on her face that wasn't abject misery. Cayde helped- he was warm and distracting and very, very present. She needed a little here and now, not the painful past or the uncertain future (would she stand here one day and tell stories about a dead Cayde? Would- Traveler forbid- people someday gather here and tell stories about her?).
Cayde's Dare- right. Whoever killed Cayde got all of his stuff. Including the Vanguard gig. That had been his bet: not one with a person, but one with the universe. "Your bullet was the last one," Ikora said gravely. "By your hand."
No. That couldn't be- that wasn't how this worked. "But I didn't kill him," Azra argued. "If I weren't involved he would have died all the same."
"If you weren't involved," Zavala growled, "Cayde would not have been in the Prison of Elders in the first place." Azra had snuck him out, after all. He couldn't have slipped Tower security on his lonesome.
The Hunter crossed her arms. "He was an adult. He made his own decisions." If he chose to go on dangerous missions, nobody could place the blame on Azra for it.
"He was forbidden from leaving the City for this exact reason," Zavala spat. "You knew that."
No, no no. They couldn't do this to her. Uldren Sov had killed Cayde. Pirrha the Rifelaman had killed his Ghost. The only thing Azra had done was offer him mercy at the end. And helped him risk his life, a traitorous part of her whispered. Helped him sneak away from Vanguard support because you missed fighting with him. Selfish.
"Azra…" Ikora spoke quietly now, compassionately. "I saw the footage. Are you sure this isn't… Cayde wanted this."
"Love you," Azra whispered.
"Love you too," Cayde wheezed. "And Shiro and all that. 'Kora and Zavala- they know."
He let his head fall back. "If it's someone taking me out," he murmured, voice just a crackling whisper, "I'm glad it's you."
Everything was wrong. This was wrong. Azra should never have been in this position, looking down the barrel of this metaphorical gun. Cayde should never have been in this position. It wasn't fair. But Andal had made his Dare and lost it, and he'd gotten himself killed and Cayde had been pushed into his seat. Now Cayde was gone and it was happening to Azra, too. Like a chain tied to all of their ankles, pulling them down one after the other. Like a row of dominoes.
Cayde had done the best with the cards he'd been dealt. All Azra could do was follow his example. "…Two weeks," she said. "Give me two weeks."
"The Tower is in chaos," Ikora said. "We need-"
"Fourteen days," Azra interrupted, consonants hard and vowels clipped. "I will settle this business with Uldren. I will gut the Scorn. Then I will come back and sit in your chair." She didn't want to do it. But she would. For Cayde. For everything he'd fought for, and for Andal before him.
"You have obligations," Zavala said. "We need the Vanguard at full strength. You can't go."
Azra stood straighter, hands in fists at her sides. She'd be damned if she didn't even try to settle this score. Her voice was cool in her own ears as she spoke. "I'd like to see you try and stop me."
Shiro met her in the hallway outside the Hunter's dorms. Azra had been raiding Cayde's old room for supplies, odd bits of tech- anything that might lend her an advantage on the Shore. She hadn't found much. She was on her way out when the shorter Exo intercepted her.
"What happened?" Shiro asked. It wasn't angry, it wasn't a demand. The quietness of his voice, the set of his shoulders- he'd already heard the news.
Azra took a deep breath, fighting down the urge to cry, to scream. "He ran ahead," was all she could manage to choke out.
Shiro drew her into a hug without another word. She clung to him tight. Gods, how had it come to this? Just the two of them?
"You got his cloak," Shiro commented.
"Called dibs on revenge," Azra muttered back. "It… needs to be answered. But it'll cause more harm than good to have half the population of the Tower running 'round the Reef."
Shiro's silence on that was an understanding one. He was an Iron Lord now- he knew how sometimes one needed to lever duty and justice against each other.
"Make sure they don't bury him in the City?" Azra asked. They'd want do. They'd wanted to for Andal. But how cruel would that be, after being trapped in the City for the last two decades, to deny him final rest out in the Wilds?
"You have my word," Shiro said. Part of Azra relaxed. His word was good as Glimmer.
"Don't…" it was so hard to talk about this. Traveler, everything was moving so fast. "Don't wait for me if you can't. I only have two weeks, I… I have to focus on this."
"Two weeks until what?" Shiro asked.
"I… I lost the Dare, Shiro," she said, voice half-giddy.
Shiro's arms tightened immediately around her. She let out a weak laugh. "I helped him sneak out. Didn't kill him, but… mine was the last bullet. Mercy."
"Not you," Shiro muttered in horror. His fear was sharp in the air. He was terrified. Who wouldn't be? He'd already seen two of his Pack sacrificed to the Vanguard spot.
"Know anyone else who's got a better claim?" Azra asked. Gods, they needed a leader. With them still reestablishing patrols after the Red War, after this craziness with Rasputin and the Infinite Forest, and now with escapees from the Prison of Elders running around the system? It would be chaos. The chair needed to be filled.
"We'll fix this," Shiro swore.
Oh, Azra would love nothing more. "First things first," she said. Fist things: burying Cayde. Revenge.
Shiro finally ended the hug, but he didn't pull back further than arm's reach. "What's the plan?" he asked.
"I was gonna have a chat with Spider," Azra said. "Barons running all over his Shore, he's gotta be inclined to clear 'em out. He'll probably be able to scrounge up some good luck for me."
Shiro nodded. "You've been to his Palace," he said. "'S just a front. He doesn't hide out there. Changes his spot often."
"Figured," Azra said.
"Remember old Rosencrantz?" Shiro asked. Azra did- the Warlock had gotten himself exiled for lifting Vanguard arms and selling them on the side to the Fallen. Azra had saved his life once, before. "Figure he still owes you?" Shiro asked.
"Figure he at least owes Cayde for not putting a bounty on his head," Azra muttered.
"Well, last I checked he's still running around the Shore. He'll find you the spot."
Pace appeared and transmatted a small device into Shiro's hand. It looked like someone had taken a Fallen shield emitter and had seriously fucked with its insides. "This'll disable any cloaking tech he's using to hide the entrance. Rosencrantz gets you to the spot, this'll get you in."
"Thank you," Azra said. She knew Shiro wished he could do more. She supposed Shiro knew she wished she could stay and help plan the funeral.
They just hugged each other again. They'd work something out.
She let the line buzz empty for a minute before she gave up and left a voice message.
"Veera," she said. She was surprised momentarily by how unsteady her voice sounded- like she might break into tears at any moment. "I need help," she continued. "Cayde's dead." These small chunks of logic were all she could muster. Cayde's dead. I need help.
She took a deep breath and marshalled her thoughts. "I called- I laid claim on revenge. I know who did it. This wasn't… he was murdered." She drew in another breath. That's how she could take things- one breath at a time. "I'm going to the Tangled Shore. It's- I don't' think you've ever been there. It's on the edge of Reef space. I'll send you coordinates. It's just-"
She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and spoke slowly, measuring out her words. "Shiro's going to be busy for a bit settling Cayde's affairs, but… I don't want to do this alone. Could you come? Please?"
She couldn't bear to say any more. She cut the feed without bothering to add a farewell.
She made it as far as the hangar before she was intercepted again. Marcus Ren walked up and, without fanfare, shoved an engram into her arms. "I heard the news," he said quietly. "You'll need one hell of a Sparrow if you're going to catch Yaviks."
Oh, right. With all that had happened, Azra hadn't had time to plan much of anything specific. Yaviks would be hard to chase down.
She didn't have time to say anything- she hadn't even decided whether she wanted to take Marcus's gift or not- but someone else (Azra didn't recognize them behind their helmet) walked up and flipped a dull metal disc at her. "Cloaking tech," they explained as Azra turned it over in her hand. "A hell of a lot better than active camo. That emitter is fully charged- should give you a good half hours' worth."
Another Hunter sidled up, looking a little too smooth, and slid something into her palm as she juggled her other items. It was a coin-sized object, bright and shiny. "This chit'll get you into most bars on the Tangled Shore," he said, speaking conversationally. "I don't know what god it'll do you, but…"
That wasn't it. More Hunters crowded close, forcing objects into Azra's hands, placing them on the ground near her feet, barraging her Ghost with data and schematics.
"Here, take a few blocks of explosives. Never know when it'll come in handy."
"Here's something your Ghost can use to repair the filters in your helmet. Tangled shore is dusty as all hell."
"I've been working on an experimental HUD for tracking multiple targets like this- take the program. Might give you an extra edge."
"You got enough supplies for two weeks? Not a lot of water on the Shore."
Azra looked up from the jumble of objects in her arms to the circle of faces around her. Some she didn't recognize, but most she knew. Marcus Ren, of course- and Ashton from Dead End Cure. Ramos. Kovac. There was Quantis Rhee- she must be on sabbatical from her scouting post on Nessus. Nadir. And Echo- had she and Nadir finally made up? Last Azra had heard, they were still harboring bad blood after their blow-up in the Arcology…
They all looked at her. Spark transmatted away the gifts, not giving Azra the opportunity to reject them. We need all the help we can get, he apologized silently.
Azra could barely speak around the lump in her throat. She managed, somehow. "Hold down the fort for me while I'm gone."
"Make us proud out there," Marcus said.
"Put a bullet or two in Uldren for me, will ya?" Kovac added.
"And another for me," Echo demanded.
"I will," Azra promised. "For you. And for Cayde."
Those seemed to be the magic words- there was a shuffling of feet and then the crowd parted before her. People in the Hangar had stopped to stare at their little farewell ceremony- but Azra felt the buzzing, protective Light of everyone at her back and managed to push away her shyness.
Her ship was only a few hundred meters away. The Tangled Shore, only a couple minute's flight. Once she started, she couldn't stop until Cayde was avenged or until her two weeks ran out.
Azra took a deep breath. Held it.
Then she took a step forward. Then another.
She walked to her ship, flanked by an honor guard. The weight of their eyes didn't leave her shoulders even when she was far out sight of the Tower.