You, my friend
Remind me of someone that I used to know
You've got his scars
You wear the same clothes
When did you become the kind of man to live in dark rooms?
Are you lost?

Insomnia – Amber Run

June 05, 2960; The Tangled Shore, Reef Space

The Tangled Shore was always changing, but it never really changed.

At its base, it was nothing more than a bunch of asteroids and ship hulls chained together, always shifting and groaning against each other. There were constant losses- old, derelict parts breaking their moorings and floating off, accidents or sabotage literally fracturing the land. There were also constant new additions as people attempted to make space for themselves, roping in new rocks and wrecks and cobbling them to the already-unstable structure. Even the more permanent parts of the Shore were so pockmarked with caverns and crevices, you could never know or monitor the whole of it.

The political landscape was just as volatile as the physical one. Reef interest and influence waxed and waned. All that their attention did was cause power vacuums, struggles to fill the place of who'd just been killed or imprisoned. When their eye turned away it sparked a feeding frenzy-like scramble for resources. It was a full-time job just keeping on top of who was who and which people were allies and which were fighting. The Shore didn't exactly attract sane, stable, morally upright rulers.

It wasn't Azra's favorite place in the universe. Paradoxically, the ever-shifting nature of the Shore killed any mapmaking interest she could have. Anything put to record would be inaccurate within a few weeks (at best). There were so many crannies to hide out in, some of them only periodically exposed by the shifting rock, that you never quite felt like you could know the place. On top of that, the constant bloodletting, political maneuvering, and general depravity that was fostered openly on the Shore left a bad taste in her mouth. The place was jam-packed with people who'd relish the chance to off a Vanguard Scout.

But it was also filled with opportunity. You could go a long way on the Shore if you had the right hand and knew how to play it (or if you were willing to cheat a little). Azra's hand currently consisted of an oath of vengeance, her not-to-be-underestimated tracking skills, a pile of gifted equipment, and, as usual, the Light.

And a fair amount of leverage against a specific exiled armsrunner. He hadn't been difficult to find.

"You're absolutely sure you want to do this?" Rosencranz asked.

They were perched on a dusty ridge overlooking Thieves' Landing. Azra was squinting through the scope of her Scout Rifle while Rosencrantz was sitting nervously back beneath the peak, out of sight from any hostiles below.

"I know what I'm about," Azra said.

"It's just… the Spider doesn't like uninvited guests," Rosencranz said anxiously.

Azra turned her eye away from the rifle's scope and glared at him. "You owe me a hell of a lot more than an audience with the Spider," she growled.

"Yeah, yeah," Rosencrantz said. "It's just, if he finds out I was the one that leaked his location-"

"You have bigger problems than the Spider. The Spider is sitting in his den getting fat off of Ether and looking at his painting collection. Meanwhile, I'm right here. And if you haven't noticed, I already have a bullet in the chamber."

"Okay, okay, geez," the exiled Warlock said. "Don't hafta get all hostile on me."

"Then stop being such a wimp and point me in the right direction," Azra said pointedly. "I'm on a schedule, here."

"Once upon a time, you was shy," Rosencranz lamented. "Whatever happened to that little nervous scout?" His dry words had an unsettled undercurrent to them.

Azra glared at him again. "I am angry," she hissed. "Do you know how much it takes to make me angry?"

Azra didn't have time or mind to say more words. The heat was insistent. The heat of her anger, of her loss. The wound was fresh, like it had happened yesterday, instead of five months ago (instead of eight years ago (instead of a cold, damp eternity ago)). She reached out and made a gun from her heart, like Andal had taught her. The fire burned through her senses, and she could feel nothing but the flames, smell nothing but the acrid smoke of hatred, see nothing but Taniks as he stood.

She fired, then again. And again. And again. Each shot was like a punch in the gut, a knife in the heart. Andal, Andal, the gun sang. My leader, my friend, my brother. She shot her anger, and when she ran out of that, her sorrow. Too soon, her sorrow ran dry, and she made bullets from bitterness and fire and sent them screaming across the broken ground to burn him. Each time, the gun kicked up. Each time, she brought it back to the blurred outline of a slumped Fallen Captain that was the only thing she could make out.

"Alright!" Rosencrantz exclaimed. "Here!" His Ghost appeared and projected a bit of map of the Tangled Shore. There was an area highlighted in red on one side of Thieves' Landing. "Just don't tell anyone you got the location from me, alright?"

Spark snapped a quick photo of the map. The general location was all they'd need. "I'd best get out of here if I were you," Azra warned.

Rosencranz stood but, oddly, hesitated. "You know…" he said slowly, speaking like he was testing the metaphorical ice. "I was sorry to hear 'bout Cayde. He was far from perfect, but you had to respect his guts. He didn't deserve to get taken out like that."

Azra didn't have the time or the energy to try and accept condolences from estranged acquaintances. She flicked the safety off of her rifle. "Get out of here before I shoot you," she said exasperatedly.

It didn't matter if he could tell she wasn't being serious. Rosencranz had lived on the Shore long enough to recognize when his welcome had run out. He left with only a backwards glance as a goodbye.

It was a grimy, dim place, a real fit for the 'ruler' of the Tangled Shore. Normally, Azra would slouch or scuff her shoes, do something to make her seem more of a fit to for this place of lowlifes. Today, she walked into the Spider's lair with her head held high. It wasn't just pride that kept her chin up, or an air of confidence- she was angry. It put some real steel in her spine.

Two Vandal guards moved to stop her, Shock Blade spears held out at the ready. "I'm here to talk to your boss," Azra said, coming to a stop just outside of their reach. The two shifted their grips on their spears and chittered nervously.

Azra rolled her eyes. "If I wanted the Spider-Baron dead, he would be dead," she growled in her best Eliksni. The guards started, letting their spear-tips drop a few inches in surprise. "I am here to speak with him, on business," Azra continued. "My own business, not of the Vanguard's."

The two Vandals shifted, just enough to maybe suggest she'd be let through. Azra took the opportunity and started forward, walking with a determination that made no room for argument. The guards fell in hesitantly behind her.

She found on entering the 'Throne Room' (a dingy little chamber with a big chair) that she wasn't the only one seeking an audience with the Spider today. Petra Venj stood there, arms crossed. Her shoulders weren't pushed back enough for confidence. She looked nervous, a little stooped. It was hard to see in the dimness, but her eye looked red around the edges, like she'd been crying. The blue Awoken-glow was just a shimmer.

Azra shifted her attention back to the Spider. He certainly was big, but more bulky than towering. She wasn't sure how fast he'd be able to get out of his chair. Azra still knew better than to dismiss the would-be Baron- his type had big egos and could be touchy about it. If she wanted his help, she'd have to play by his rules.

Her eyes were naturally drawn to the dead Ghost he was turning between his fingers. The sight of it revolted her. That was a person, or it had been, and Spider was treating their corpse like a fidget toy. Spark was shocked, but oddly fascinated with the way the shell moved, still held reflexively in place by magnetics. How long ago had they died? How had they died? Certainly there hadn't been enough left of Sundance to play with-

Azra wrenched her eyes back to Spider's face and did her best to hide her disgust, inclining her head a degree. "Velask," she said politely.

Spider chuckled to himself but did not return the traditional greeting. "And who might you be, little morsel?" His English was a fair sight better than Variks's, at least. He spoke with no hiccups or hesitations (or insect-like chattering).

Azra threw on a slightly more casual air, shifting her weight back on her heels and letting her hands settle on her hips. "Name's Azra Jax."

Petra stepped forward. "There were two Guardians in the Prison when it fell," she said. "Cayde-6, and…" she tilted her head to indicate Azra.

"I'm here seeking vengeance," Azra said.

Perhaps she hadn't put enough fire in her words. Spider snickered and leaned forward in his chair. "Are you now?" His tone spoke of a condescending doubt.

"Cut the shit, Spider," Azra snapped, letting her hackles rise. "I'm not some Banmarda-dregh. I know what I'm about."

"You were involved in that brawl in my Palace," Spider said with ponderous recognition. His grip on the dead Ghost shell tightened. A warning?

Azra crossed her arms. "I was involved in capturing those Barons that were causing you so much trouble."

Spider snorted and sat back in his chair. "Fat lot of good that's done for me," he said. "Two months and they're back, causing me more chaos than ever."

"Why do you think I'm here, Spider?" Azra asked. "They're not going to have a chance at prison again."

"We all want the same thing," Petra interjected. "Uldren and his Barons, dead. We just need to know where to start looking. If you could help us…"

Spider scratched an itch on his side lazily. "Despite our clear, mutually aligned interests… I'm sorry, but I can't help but feel like it is I who will come up short."

Always grubbing for more. Azra could have strangled him. Maybe his guards picked up on her murderous intent; they edged closer on every side. Petra put a hand on her knife and glared angrily up at the Spider. The air itself seemed tense.

"It's true," Spider admitted. "I know where Uldren and his so-called Barons scheme."

"I'm on a schedule," Azra said. "Two weeks."

"And then what happens?" The Spider asked.

"And then I get chained to the Vanguard chair and my claim to vengeance is moot. You think the Barons are causing you trouble?" Azra took a step forward, trying more to assert herself than to intimidate (not much of a difference in a conversation like this). "Imagine what ungodly hell's gonna be unleashed when half the Guardians in the system come down here sniffin' for blood." It was a good threat, she reflected- several smaller threats rolled into one.

Not good enough, it seemed. "You go, scratch your itch," Spider said dismissively. "They we can just say you owe me."

Azra spat on the floor in clear disagreement. She was not indebting herself to lowlife scum like the Spider. She knew the type; he'd string her along forever, never quite settling for any favors she gave. "How about you tell me where to find them, and when I leave the Shore I'll forget I've ever heard about you?" she bargained. What she wanted to say was and I won't string you up like the dirty, cheating rag you are, but she had enough reasoning left to know pissing him off wasn't doing to do her any favors.

"Deal," the Spider growled (after an agonizingly long moment of consideration).

Concrete terms. Azra would accept that. Azra nodded. Petra beside her did as well.

June 05, 2960 23:43 (Tower Time); The Hallowed Lair, The Tangled Shore, Reef Space

It was her best option for ending this quickly. Eight Barons, one hideout. She could get them all here, not have to waste time tracking them down one-by-one like they had last time around.

But she was too late. To slow.

Azra snarled. Only a thin barrier lay between her and the Fanatic- between her and the rest of the Barons. She'd been so close. She'd even managed to get a few solid hits on a few of them.

But the barrier was up. The Barons were escaping. She just hadn't been fast enough. She was only one person- she couldn't fight off the waves of zombie-Fallen (Scorn, they were being called now) and also keep up with her targets as they fled.

This had been her best chance to get them all at once, slipped through her fingers just like that.

The barrier was of Fallen make, humming stable. It would turn anything she could throw at it. Azra threw her Staff at it anyway, frustrated and angry. The barrier stuttered but held. Fikrul let out a throaty laugh.

"I do not fear the dead," he said with the confidence of someone delusional. "I control death. And you…"

Azra bared her teeth at him again, spouting off every Eliksni curse she knew.

"…More useful to me alive," Fikrul decided.

"Coward," Azra spat in English. "Come out and face me yourself if you're not afraid. You think you can take me?"

"Pursue your vengeance," Fikrul said. "I claim your Fallen victims for my Scorn army."

Azra told him, graphically, what he could do with his Scorn army.

Fikrul just turned and walked away.

Azra stood there for a short eternity, seething. This chance had been golden. She could have gotten her revenge. She could have wrapped up this Scorn problem in one neat stroke.

…Could she have? Alone? Half-cocked as she'd been, running in here without scouting it first, without even trying to block the exits?

Azra let herself sink to her knees, anger turning to cold lead in her belly.

For a while, there was just the sound of motors running- old generators, pumps used to keep the place dry. The barrier hummed. Distantly, the Shore creaked, cables groaning as the tension shifted.

Azra wasn't much used to failure like this. She usually hedged her bets pretty well. Andal had fostered an inclination towards preparedness in her, and it had served her well over her life.

Not today. She'd been careless, today, and it had cost her. "We did this like Cayde would have," Spark said. Unspoken, the thought passed between them- Cayde's way got him killed. He'd gone in recklessly and tried to take them all at once. It had been the end of him.

Spark lit down on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Let's do it our way now." Cayde would act first and ask questions later, often gaining himself the element of surprise. Azra, on the other hand, was practical, methodical, and opportunistic. She made sure the job got done. When Cayde had tripped and fallen in the past, she'd been there to clean up the mess.

What was this but one last mess to clean up?

"Alright," she said. Her voice broke on the last syllable. But she pulled herself together with a breath, refocusing her resolve on the task ahead. She'd have to go after the Barons one by one, chasing whatever leads were most relevant. It would be slower, but cleaner. She could take any of them on if it was just her and them.

"Alright," she repeated. This time her voice had lost its waver- she sounded cool and confident, ready to take on the world.

If only she felt it.

TYPE: LIVE COMBAT FEED

PARTIES: Two [2]. One [1] Fallen-type, class Baron, designate Spider [s]; One [1] Guardian-type, class Hunter, designate Azra Jax [aj];

ASSOCIATIONS: Jax, Azra; Prison of Elders; The Red War; Scorn; The Spider [Fallen]; The Tangled Shore; Venj, Petra

/AUDIO UNAVAILABLE/

/TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS…/

[s:01]: So – even the great "Hero of the Red War" has limits. Eight Barons and an Awoken Prince- and only one you.

[aj:01]: I wasn't fast enough. And I got angry. Sloppy. Could've had at least one of them.

[s:02]: I so do dislike betting on the underdog-

[aj:02]: They're still dead meat. Just have to take my time with them, now. Individually.

[s:03]: And you do have the Queenless Queen's Wrath in your corner.

[aj:03]: The facts still stand: I have fourteen… thirteen days, now, to finish this, and then you'll have so many Guardians crawling on your Shore you'll be shaking them out of your bedsheets. This goes faster with your help.

[s:04]: Ah, you've talked me into it. Our agreement still stands, for the moment. Go have your vengeance.

Note: Holy 400,000 words, Batman! Thanks for every bit of support you've given me along the way- I certainly wouldn't have gotten this far without people reading and leaving favorites/kudos/reviews/comments/etc. Now this thing has 69% of the words of Lord of the Rings, nice.