Ghost and the Shell

by Ender Mahe

Whisper is a newly risen guardian with a deep need to look, to know, and to understand the world around her. While not the best fighter, she quickly joins with the eyes and ears of the Vanguard, giving her a unique perspective. Write-through of Destiny focused on stitching together Destiny 1's deep lore, especially the less-developed portions, into a coherent narrative.

2. The Tower

Chapter 2: The Tower

And so you riseagain. Who you were before or how you ended upat the wall ofan Old Russian spaceport isastory foranother time. You have been chosen by the Traveleras one of ourguardians, gifted with the power to wield its Light in the coming battles ofatimeless war. Trust this Ghost. It will guide you on your path.

The flight was surprisingly short given that they had to cross a good chunk of the planet to get to this Last City the ghost kept mentioning. And that was a good thing because though the little jumpship darted right out to the edge of atmosphere and let loose with phenomenal acceleration that was exhilarating, it was also a little terrifying as the battered ship started to rattle violently. They cruised for a short while during which Whisper watched the world pass by, hoping against hope to see something familiar. Unfortunately, the passing mountains and valleys remained totally alien beneath them, and soon they were slowing and once again dipped back into the thicker mess of atmosphere below.

"So, ghost, what am I going to find at this Last City?" asked Whisper anxiously.

We'll be heading to the Tower which is run by a group called the Vanguard, made of three members. You'll report to Cayde-6, the mentor for all new Hunters. He…has a sense of humor. I hear it's a pleasure working with Cayde. Maybe someday we'll get to do it.

"Who are the other two?"

The leader is Zavala, the mentor for all titans. He's very responsible. A good man. Never seen him smile, though. Ikora is the warlock representative. She's…very learned. Said to run a spy network called the Hidden. In any case, it's best to listen to her.

They descended still lower, easing over a mountain pass, down over a forest, and there, that must be the City, and above it, the Traveler.

Whisper gasped as she finally saw it. The Traveler was huge, easily larger than the mountains they'd flown over, and it hovered apparently weightlessly just above the City itself. She waited a breathless moment, but it didn't fall out of the sky and crush everything beneath it. After nearly a minute she tore her eyes away and took in the City below as it rapidly grew nearer. It, too, was remarkably large, though dwarfed in comparison to the Traveler. And surrounding it was a wall dozens of meters tall and at least fifteen meters thick, marked by eight huge towers, though only one had lights blinking on it.

Welcome to the last safe city on earth, the only place the Traveler can still protect. It took centuries to build, and now we're counting every day it stands. And that Tower is where the guardians live.

The jumpship slowed further, coming to a hover over a small receiving area just off the occupied tower. Whisper was about to ask how she was going to get out when abruptly she was outside the ship, and definitely not on the ground. She dropped the last thirty centimeters and staggered, barely managing to keep on her feet, while above her the jumpship floated away towards a large hangar all on its own.

She stood still and looked around, taking it all in and trying to get her bearings. The air rang with the clang of hammers and crackle of welders while the smell of oil and sweat assaulted her senses.

"Hey, you're the one!" Whisper turned towards the voice and saw a green-eyed woman in her thirties striding towards her streaming bright blonde hair in her wake. She wore a heavy one-piece working outfit of thick fabric generously supplied with pockets cinched up by a wide belt bulging with tools. The sleeves of her jumpsuit were cut short revealing pale skin and a sleeve tattoo on her right shoulder and arm, as well as oil smudges on her left arm. Completing the outfit was a stained red bandanna around her neck over which hung a pair of thick welding goggles.

Whisper glanced around her but didn't see anyone else she could have been talking to. "I'm the what?"

The woman grinned. "You're the one that flew in here with a jumpship made of rust and ready to fall out of the sky. I just about had a heart attack when it floated over the Valkyrie I've been working on. I'm gonna guess you're new around here, so let me introduce myself. Amanda Holliday, Chief Shipwright around these parts." She stuck out a gloved hand which Whisper took and they shook. "Well, don't just stand there. What's your name?"

"I, uh… Whisper? I think?"

"Nice to meet you. Now, why don't we clear the transmat zone and have a little chat." She turned and walked into the crowded hangar and Whisper quickly followed, eager to speak to another person that wasn't shooting at her.

Jumpships of all kinds rested on struts on both sides of the hangar in various states of disrepair. Amanda maneuvered easily through the chaos while Whisper trailed in her wake. The noise was even louder once they got under the hangar's roof, made worse by music blaring from banged up speakers on the walls. Whisper's eyes darted back and forth as they walked, taking in the fascinating shapes of ships and engines.

Amanda caught her staring at a sleek arrow-head shaped jumpship and started talking as they walked. "Like what you see?" shouted Amanda over the noise. "That's a Phaeton Class ship. Most of our ships are cobbled together, and they only just let me start trying to build new hulls from the keel up, but we're getting better at it. Somewhere over there," she said with a vague point back over her shoulder, "we've got some Javelins, refurbished versions of the Phaeton. And," she added with a conspiratorial air, "if you can keep a secret, I've even got an order for an Octavian. The buyer's providing the materials to get it as close to the original specs as possible."

They kept walking and Amanda pointed to another craft which looked like an ancient fighter jet, but its forward-swept wings dipped lower and its front was split in two right up to the cockpit. "This one's a Kestrel Class. It was a prototype before the Collapse, and without specs the best I could do was reverse-engineer it enough to get it flying again."

Amanda stepped out of the main hangar proper into a smaller alcove towards the rear where it was a little quieter. There, Whisper saw her Jumpship hanging on brackets, and she winced at the sight - it looked even worse than she remembered.

Amanda patted the rusted hull fondly. "The Arcadia Class ships were some of the most reliable around back in the Golden Age. They're good ships, good enough you can find 'em all over. Where'd you pick her up?"

"The Cosmodrome."

Amanda laughed. "Yeah, that'll do it. Nice job getting this one back. I hear the Fallen are all over those parts."

"Can you fix it?" asked Whisper anxiously. "I don't have much glimmer."

The Shipwright took a step back from the ship, crossed her arms, and looked up at it appraisingly. "Don't worry about the glimmer - ships capable of interplanetary travel are in limited supply so the Vanguard covers expenses to make sure all of 'em we have stay in the air. As for fixin' her, I can and I can't, depending on how you mean the question. Look," she said, pointing to her right at a lethal looking black jumpship with a needle-pointed cockpit linked to two heavy side-mounted triangular engines. "That's an NS22 Cloud Errant based on the old Regulus Class. I don't have the parts to get it to full spec, so while it's in good shape and looks pretty, and I've even gone ahead and improved the energy flow systems, it's a long way from its original specs which let it jump to other solar systems."

"How far can they go now?" asked Whisper curiously.

"A woman after my own heart," replied Amanda with another grin. "Theoretically one of these babies could reach Saturn with some good navigational data and a support ship." Her smile faded and she let out a small sigh. "But it's been a long time since anyone even tried to reach Jupiter. Even the Dead Orbit folks don't go much beyond the Reef these days."

For a moment she looked distant, but then blinked and turned back to Whisper's jumpship with renewed energy. "What I'm sayin' is, most guardians are content to wander around Earth, and so we repair their jumpships enough to let them do their thing. The good news is that for the likes of you and me curious about what's on the other side, I can do better than that, so long as I've got the parts. The bad news is, your ship's NLS Drive - the bit that bends space around you to launch you between planets - is shot, and that's something not even I can fix. So if you want to get out into the great beyond, you'll need to find a new one. But until then, I can get her cleaned up for you."

"Thank you Amanda, I really appreciate it and I'll try to make it up to you. Do you know how I can earn some glimmer to repay you?"

Amanda shook her head with a smile. "That's sweet of you, but if you want to repay me, the best way to do it is to go out there and be a guardian. Keep the City and all us folks inside it safe. And if I can give you a piece of advice, take your time! Wander the City, meet the people. And when you're ready, head up into the Tower proper and find Chester, a friend of mine. He'll get you on the right path."

With that Amanda gave her a wink and headed back to work.

Her ghost turned away from Amanda to face Whisper directly. Well, there's a chance we find a warp drive just lying around. Then again, I spent years searching for a Guardian to work with…so, I'm not exactly a good luck charm.

…

Following Amanda's directions, Whisper continued climbing upwards until she emerged from a staircase in a large courtyard area. For a moment she looked around, uncertain, while people thronged past in every direction before a voice cut through the throng of people and sounds. "Welcome, welcome! You must be a new guardian! We don't get too many new ones these days. Let me be the first to welcome you to the City and the Tower."

Whisper looked down to see an older man, his receding hair a stark white, rolling towards her on a wheelchair. He extended a hand and Whisper shook it without thought.

"Excellent, residual memories still seem to be intact. The name's Chester, ex-guardian and tour guide extraordinaire. And what's your designation, Exo?"

Whisper stared down at him. "I, uh… Whisper? I think?"

Chester grinned. "Nice to meet you, Whisper. Now, if you're anything like I was when I first awoke, you have about a million questions right now. So why don't we head over this way. There's a nice overlook of the City there, and I'll give you the general picture and you can ask your questions, yeah? Onwards!"

He spun adroitly in the wheelchair and took off, leaving Whisper scrambling to keep up as he darted through the crowd of briskly moving, heavily armed people milling about. By the time she'd caught up, Chester had already settled in, and– oh, wow.

The sun was just setting, bathing the Traveler (which looked close enough to reach out and touch) in a burnt orange glow. The City beneath it glistened with thousands of twinkling lights as hundreds of thousands of people far, far below began to settle in for the evening.

Chester grinned once more. "Amazing, isn't it?" The grin faded. "And it's just a small fragment of what we've lost. Better settle in there, partner. It's not that long a story, seeing as how we don't know a lot of it, but it's also a sad one."

Whisper sat down next to Chester, crossing her legs and looking out over the magnificent view as Chester began to speak in the smooth tones of a practiced storyteller.

"Many, many years ago, when humanity was taking its early, stumbling steps into the stars, mankind was bitterly divided. They bickered and warred with each other constantly. Until one day, they detected something large approaching from deep space. This was the Traveler. It settled on Venus for a short while, getting its bearings, then sat near Mars, which was just barely within reach of man's best efforts. The world, driven by curiosity and fear, set aside its differences and banded together to send a mission to Mars to meet it. And thus began the Golden Age."

"Driven by study of the Traveler, which had already begun terraforming Mars for mankind, we entered an age of rapid growth, both as a people and technologically. Colonies were started on Luna, Mars, Venus, even as far out as the moon of Titan. Science blossomed, leading to the development of jumpships and everything from exos to the mighty warminds. It was a glorious, incredible time… until it ended. While the Traveler was sharing its Light, in pursuit came the Darkness, and in its wake, invaders. Even Rasputin, the most powerful of the warminds, could only slow them, and in panic and fear, massive colony ships were built to take us far, far away. A few were launched, but most were still in the last hurried throws of preparation when the Collapse overtook them."

Whisper's thoughts immediately turned to the Cosmodrome, and the massive, broken starships still sitting on their launchpads.

"We know little of how it happened. What we do know is that there was a terrible battle, in which the Traveler itself fought with the Darkness. The Traveler won, but it paid a terrible price for its victory. There, can you see it? No, a little lower… yes, there, you can still make out the scars the Traveler bears from that terrible battle. And with its dying breath, it gave birth to the ghosts, who traveled far and wide to find guardians to fight the battles it cannot. And there it stays, even in death its passive shielding systems guarding the City from bombardment."

"Of course, it took years, centuries for the guardians to rally and gather survivors here, where they constructed the City. And every day, the guardians fight to defend the City, the Traveler, and humanity. And now the Traveler's Light has found you, young guardian. And it is your duty to stand with your fellow guardians and fight the good fight."

Whisper considered Chester's words. That was… well, there were gaping holes in that story, but then again, there would be holes in any story that spanned what seemed to be thousands of years. But above all the uncertainty, a single question immediately bubbled to the top. "Who am I? And… what am I?"

Chester smiled gently. "Difficult questions, I'm afraid, but not unusual. You experienced permanent memory loss when you were raised by your ghost, but it's not the ghost's fault. And it's not just exos—no guardian truly remembers their past, their life before the light touched them. A handful recall their names, but most give themselves a new name, to mark a new beginning. And as for what you are, you are, first and foremost, a guardian. More specifically, in your case, you are an exomind, usually shortened to just exo, an incredible person built at the height of the Golden Age, a full citizen. Beyond that, I'm afraid I can't say much more. Exo's are incredibly complex and deeply encrypted. Only a ghost has the processing power to begin to understand them. I'm afraid you'll have to ask another exo if you wish to know more."

"And being a guardian, what does that mean? My ghost healed me, even… even seemed to rebuild me from scratch. How is that possible?"

Chester shrugged. "Beats me. All we know is that it's the Traveler's Light that does it, working through your ghost. They're built from machinery and the Traveler's Light, it'll be your best friend - scout, librarian, mechanic, code breaker, whatever you need, your ghost can help. But before you let it go to your head, it doesn't make you invulnerable or invincible. Keeping the memory of each death, it weighs on the mind. And going out to be killed again and again, it… well, sometimes a guardian breaks. And there are places the Traveler's Light cannot reach, places of Darkness where no ghost can bring you back. And, of course, there is no way to restore your ghost. So take care of it, young lady, or you'll end up like me, growing old and filled with regret." His eyes grew dark with remembered pain.

"I'm sorry."

He gave himself a shake, then smiled again. "Don't worry about it. It's a new day, your first day! It's a time for celebration, not melancholy. But to answer your other question, what is a guardian? Perhaps the best definition is that a guardian is one that chooses their own path. Before you lie the worlds of our broken past, overrun by nature, claimed by Darkness and alien intent. There are secrets to uncover, alliances to forge, and implacable foes to vanquish. But as a guardian, you make your own choices, choose your own destiny."

"Now, I'm sure you have more questions, but it's best to take it in a little at a time so you don't overwhelm yourself. I've got a datafile here for your ghost to catch you up when you're ready. But in the meantime, you should head over that way and up those blasted stairs. That will take you up to the Vanguard's quarters, the leaders of both the guardians in the Tower here and, to a point, of the City down below. Go on, introduce yourself!"

She stood and turned back to Chester, but he was already caught up in thought, staring out over the City as the twilight came on.

Whisper took Chester's advice and headed up the last steps, and at the top she saw for the first time another exo talking loudly with a human woman. Whisper hung back for a moment, watching. He was remarkably human-looking for a machine, with a fully articulating face. Somewhat surprisingly, given the amount of effort that went into making him look human, he also had a horn coming out of his forehead.

The exo noticed her and stepped away from his companion. "Well, hey there, stranger. Welcome to the Tower. By the look of you, you're a new hunter. I'd toast your health, but I'm supposed to be all reputable now. It's good to see you made it to us in one piece. It can be rough out there in the wilds. Come back in an hour or so and I'll have some equipment for you and we'll talk. In the meantime, take a look around and get a feel for your new home. Oh, and the name is Cayde-6. Nice to meet you."

He gave her a thumbs up and wandered back towards his friend.

Well then. With nothing better to do, Whisper wandered the Tower, getting a feel for the layout and trying to gather her thoughts to process and come to grips with the strange new world she'd somehow entered. She wandered through the Tower passing strange shops selling a remarkable variety of firearms, shops selling hovering single-person vehicles called sparrows, custom-made artwork, tattoos, all types of food, and everything in between.

Her thoughts wandered further still. I'm an immortal machine, reborn through an alien power, to be a guardian fighting a battle between unknown forces that has been going on for centuries. She'd been selected by her ghost, another alien creation, for this strange mixture of gift and curse. There'd been no consulting her, asking what she wanted. Not that they could have, of course. Still… She'd been thrown into this mess and, from everyone's reactions to her, was expected to hit the ground running without asking too many questions.

The hour passed quickly, and she found herself almost by accident back where she'd started. Cayde was there and waved her to follow him. She fell in step as he easily moved through the crowd and ducked into a conference room. Maps and charts covered the walls, surrounding a huge table that dominated the room. Cayde hopped up to sit on the table's edge, lounging carelessly. He took a moment to really look at her, taking in her posture, her stance.

"So… here you are, a brand-new guardian, and an exo to boot. You've got more questions, so shoot."

Whisper didn't even know where to start. Her hour of trying to come to grips with things had left her even more lost than before. "I… I guess my first question is, what is an exo? What are we?"

Cayde smiled. "The short version is, you're a guardian, no different from any other. The longer version is, we don't really know. We know some bits and pieces, sure. We were built during the Golden Age of humanity as full citizens, whatever that means. We were built by the Clovis-Bray Corporation, and they were doing some mighty secret research on the human mind."

"And? Are we… are we humans, or machines?"

Cayde shrugged. "Hard to say. The most common theory is that we're machines with human minds uploaded into them. I'm afraid we don't come with any squishy bits, so the body is definitely machine, not any sort of cyborg."

Whisper hesitated. "But… why do I feel hungry? Is it even possible for me to eat?"

"Of course! I'll have to show you my favorite ramen place sometime. Look, we're getting into some touchy stuff here, so for now I'll just say this. They decided to give some human impulses to exos to help us stay more… stable. It looks like you got eating, but good news, you can eat! You don't need to, but it's nice all the same. In short, your mind is human, so for all practical purposes, you are human in every way that matters. I'm sure you'd like to hear more, but we'll leave it at that until you've gotten used to living again."

Whisper frowned, waiting for more, but that was apparently all Cayde had to say on the subject, so she moved on to her next question. "What does this mean?" she asked, holding up her left arm where Whisper-1 was stenciled in white paint.

"Now that there is your unit designation. The number after it is the number of times your memory was reset way back when. Apparently, that also helped stabilize some of the early models. Odd though—can't say I've ever seen an exo with no wipes before, but I guess it doesn't make a difference seeing as how you lost it all becoming a guardian anyway."

Whisper started pacing back and forth. "But what am I supposed to do?"

Cayde smiled. "You need something to focus on, a goal, a purpose. I get that. So tell you what, I'll go ahead and give you your first mission, your try-out as a guardian. That jumpship you brought in is serviceable, but if you're going to do your job, you'll need a warp drive in it. So, your job is to go back to the Cosmodrome and find a warp drive for your ship."

Whisper stopped pacing and crossed her arms. "And why should I do that?"

Cayde laughed. "Oh but you are a hunter, aren't you. Look, the guardians are led by the Vanguard. That means one titan, muscle-bound folks that talk serious all the time, one warlock, crazy space-wizards, and one hunter, specifically, me. So, as one of the leaders of the City and as leader of the hunters, I'm asking you to do this. And besides, you don't have anything better to do, do you?"

Whisper just stared at him.

"That's what I thought. So when you're ready, trot back down to Amanda Holliday, get your ship checked out, and get back in the game. Until then, I'm sending you an invite for tomorrow morning to meet up with Relkis who will walk you through the basics and let you know you're a hunter. Oh, and that gun's a mess. A credit to you making it out of the Cosmo with that thing. In honor of your unofficial-but-totally-going-happen addition to the hunters, I brought you this to help you on your way, but seriously, you should go see Banshee at some point. He's like an encyclopedia of guns - just don't ask him how he learned it."

He reached over on the table, rummaged around amid a pile of papers and boxes, and pulled out a long, oddly shaped package and tossed it to her. "It's armor, a little glimmer, plus a little something extra. That armor of yours was made by your ghost and doesn't do much besides life support. Now, me, I always go for something sleek and designer. But when you're starting out just aim for armor that will keep you as living as possible. Good luck!" And he dashed out of the room.

Whisper sighed and looked down at the package in her arms. She opened the parcel and was surprised to see a full suit of body armor. The chest piece consisted of an armored black and gray breastplate with a fully enclosed helmet with quite large integrated visor reminiscent of a fighter pilot along with a rebreather with a hose back to the oxygen scrubbers mounted on the back of the breastplate. A thinner and softer material connected the chestplate to the helmet and a pair of thick gauntlets, topped off with heavy gloves. Armored thigh and shin plates led to thick boots. As she examined it, she noticed a thin stenciled label inside the breastplate: Tracker 1.0.

And not only that; there was also a long, thin weapon there as well: a sniper rifle bearing the proud designation of Calcutta-LR2. And then the armor and gun vanished from her hands. Let me hold onto that for you.

"Okay, what is that? How do you do that?" she demanded of her ghost.

It's called transmatting. Golden Age technology built into ghosts, transmats are basically small teleportation units. The amount of energy it takes goes up exponentially with size, so I wouldn't want to try it with anything much larger than, say, a sparrow, but I have a fairly sizable memory and I can encrypt things like weapons into engram and hold onto them until you need them again.

"Into what?"

Engram. The fourth state of matter, discovered during—

"The Golden Age?"

You are quick. The easiest way to think of it is if you encrypt something enough, you can digitally store physical matter and retrieve it again. It's very useful.

Whisper desperately needed some time alone to think. Here, surrounded by people she didn't know, doing things she didn't understand, for reasons she couldn't begin to fathom, was not helping. She needed to get out.

With her jumpships still not ready to go, she settled for climbing as high as she could get on the Tower, and so she wandered, climbing staircases, crossing corridors, and once or twice (when no one was looking) scrambling up a wall, until she found herself on a balcony near the roof. She leaned against the railing and looked out across the view.

Just as before with Chester, she couldn't help but stare in awe at the magnificent view. The City stretched out below her, its innumerable glittering lights surrounded by massive walls with a number of towers like the one she was standing in dotted across it. And above it all the Traveler, the massive, scarred, silver-white sphere floating protectively over the City.

All eight of the towers were manned by guardians once, long ago.

"What happened to them? I thought guardians were pretty resilient."

They are, you are, but you're far from invincible. The Battle of Six Fronts, the Great Disaster, the Battle of Twilight Gap… a lot of guardians have been lost in major battles, and that's not counting the steady trickle of losses over time, or those we lose for… other reasons. And there aren't many new guardians – I was one of the last ghosts still searching for mine. I mean, for you.

"But who were they fighting? More of those Fallen?"

Well… Maybe it would be easiest if I explained a little more about the City's history.

Whisper shrugged. "That seems as good a place to start as any."

The time after the Collapse was called the Dark Ages. We don't have very many records, but from what we know, it was very chaotic. Pockets of Darkness remained from the Traveler's battle, and the survivors were scattered. As the risen, the guardians before they were called guardians, began to group up, they slowly gathered people and moved towards the Traveler, where they built the City to protect them.

"So that's it? The guardians just showed up and immediately saved everyone, immortal protectors against the unending onslaught? How am I supposed to live up to that? I'm just… me. I was just born! How am I supposed to be some noble hero?"

Not… exactly. The first brought back by ghosts were called risen, and they were… confused.

Whisper perked up at that. "What do you mean, confused?"

The ghost continued reluctantly. Remember that our records are far from complete, so there may be a lot of missing context, but those early risen, well... they gathered bands of people and protected them.

"And?"

And they may have, on occasion, fought against each other for territory. Probably to secure more resources for the people they were protecting.

Whisper snorted – or rather, she tried, and a rough approximation of the sound came out anyway. "You don't know much about human history, do you?"

The ghost rotated in place. Do you?

Whisper opened her mouth… then closed it again. She remembered… well, some things. She remembered that humans bickered a lot. She remembered that they'd fought wars with each other for resources. But specifics, names… she had none.

The ghost waited a moment to see if she would respond, then continued. Not too long afterwards the Fallen arrived. The Fallen are ruthless scavengers, brutal and uncaring. They arrived in their massive ketches in the wake of the Collapse to loot and pillage humanity's devastated worlds. Their threat eventually united the early risen. That's when they began settling the City.

"And everything was just great then? No more roving immortal tyrants?" she asked sarcastically.

As Chester said, over time being a guardian can be a great physical and mental strain. There have been some who… weren't up to the challenge over the years.

"So you're saying that guardians cut and run? That some fail? That we are nothing more than imperfect people?"

The ghost spun uncomfortably. Well… yes, though that's not how I would—.

"Good." Whisper let out a sigh of relief. "Maybe this is something I can do after all."

Oh. I've never thought of it that way.

"It seems like these Fallen are the most pressing issue for the City, so, tell me more about them."

The ghost bounced in the air. You mean you're going to do the mission?

"Probably. Cayde was right when he said I had nothing else to do. And I need… I don't know. I feel a strange compulsion to look. To know. To understand this crazy world."

I see. Well, I don't know how much else there is to say. They arrived from beyond the solar system some time after the Traveler's last battle in their big ketch starships and skiff raiders. Their political structure is very strict, with a kell at the top. There are hints of ancient nobility to the Fallen – the scars of lost grandeur, I guess you could say. The kells of their scattered houses might still claim to be royalty, but they leave only grief and wreckage in their wake. Beneath the kells are captains, vandals, and dregs at the bottom. There's a unique position called an Archon that serves as intermediary between the Kell and its Prime Servitor. The troops are supported by shank drones and the servitors.

"What's a servitor?"

Oh, it's a large spheroid floating emotionless arbiter of life and death.

"So like you, you mean."

Very funny. They create ether, the fluid every Fallen needs to survive, we think. We're not positive, but it seems like the Prime Servitor creates the ether, or possibly coordinates the other servitors in making it.

"And their ground support?"

You've seen a ketch, their big ships drives and cloaking devices. They deploy smaller skiff dropships armed with arc cannons and anti-personnel mines. You've also seen their walker tanks. And they have a version of the sparrow called a pike, which is slower but more heavily armored and armed with arc cannons.

The rapid-fire information should have been overwhelming, but instead it slotted neatly into place in her mind, filling out a force table. "So there's a single Prime Servitor providing, or coordinating, ether production for every single Fallen in the system? If they lose that one unit then potentially all of them will die in the whole system?"

Oh, there's far too many Fallen to survive off only one Prime Servitor. There's a Prime Servitor for every House. And we're not positive that the normal servitors don't make at least some themselves.

Whisper tried to raise a questioning eyebrow, and was somewhat startled to feel an articulable face plate move to replicate the expression. "Uh, sorry, what? Houses? Just how many Fallen are there?"

We don't really know, but there are at least a few million of them in the system. The most concerning of the Houses for the moment is the House of Devils, which is closest and most threatening to the City. They appear to be based in old Russia, and attempted to conquer the City by banding with the Houses of Kings and Winter in the Battle of the Twilight Gap, but were defeated by the guardians with heavy losses on both sides.

Whisper mulled over this information as she watched the sun set and the stars begin to twinkle above. She stood there for a long time, mechanical eyes adjusting unconsciously to the dark, metal legs never tiring. As the sun began to rise over the City once more, she came to a decision.

"I have no purpose, and with no purpose, there is no point. And so, my purpose is to discover my purpose. My only half-remembered instinct is the need to get out there, to see for myself, to understand. And so that is what I'll do. But first, I need something to eat."

…

Whisper pushed through a swinging door and stepped into the smallish bar a short walk from the Tower. Soft music played in the background in the dim light. Rows of clean glasses hung above the bar and a dozen round tables filled the space. A weathered woman in practical black pants and dark blue, long-sleeved shirt leaned against the bar. She twitched her head at Whisper, making her long black hair pulled back in a thick braid twitch.

"Don't recognize you," said the woman calmly. "Welcome to Tasha's. I'm Tasha. My husband Frank is on the grill. Take a seat and give me a nod when you're ready to order."

Whisper thanked her and headed for the only open table against the wall and took a seat in the small booth, then looked around curiously. The walls were covered in bits of cloth in a wild array of colors and patterns. The other tables were occupied by individuals almost to a man wearing cloaks and sporting enormous revolvers at their sides. Some sat in pairs speaking quietly, but most sat alone nursing drinks or eating grilled food while a half-dozen ghosts conversed near the door.

Her attention was caught by an exo speaking quietly, but with intensity, to a human guardian.

"-which in the end is just a matter of substrate chauvinism. It doesn't matter if the system thinks with flesh or superconductor or topological braids in doped metallic hydrogen, as long as the logic is the same. And our logic is the same. Yours and mine. If I am a machine then so are you. If you are not a machine then neither am I. Exo minds are human. It is incontrovertible. You understand? I'm going to take that slack-jawed stare as understanding. Now here's the real question. Why are Exo minds human? What's the design imperative? Why does a war machine–"

The exo's companion started to interject, but the exo spoke over him. "-yes, absolutely, I am a war machine, built by human hands; and you are a survival machine built by the engine of evolution. Don't interrupt me. Why does a war machine have emotions? Why should a war machine have awareness? These are not useful traits on the battlefield. Don't flatter yourself. They are not useful. So why should the Exo mind mimic the human architecture so closely? You know what I smell on you? I smell the stink of anthropocentrism. I think you think that there's only one way to think. That's why the Exo mind is so human, you presume. Because all higher thought converges. My friend, you should meet the Vex. There is nothing human in them. Now. This is what I believe happened, back in the time before any Exo can remember. It explains everything. I think someone wanted to live forever."

"Is this spot taken?"

Whisper looked up and saw a young woman with dark skin wearing battered combat armor that looked like a modified version of Whisper's new Tracker 1.0 armor. She gestured to the other side of the booth and Whisper shook her head.

"Thanks," said the woman with a grateful smile of brilliant white teeth, then flopped down tiredly in the booth. "What a week! Trampling through the Appalachian Dead Zone hounded by Fallen raiders the whole way, and nothing but a little glimmer to show for it." The woman sighed dramatically. "Oh well, it's another day in paradise."

A ghost in a slate gray shell materialized beside her. "Ginger," said the ghost in a long-suffering tone.

"Oh, right. I'm Ginger, and this," she added with a nod towards her ghost, "is Reminder, because he's always reminding me of what I should be doing. What's your name?"

"I'm Whisper," she replied, reassured by Ginger's friendly attitude. "If you don't mind my asking, what were you doing in the Appalachian Dead Zone? And what is the Appalachian Dead Zone?"

Ginger waived a gloved hand airily. "Oh, you know, taking a break and guarding a jumpship reclamation convoy. Word was somebody had spotted a few out there."

"I've never heard of these convoys before. Do they go out often?"

Ginger and Reminder glanced at each other. "Oh," said Ginger, "you're new, new. How long since you were Risen?"

"Not long," said Whisper a touch defensively. "I just got to the City yesterday."

Ginger sat up and leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. "Hey, don't worry about it! I've only been around eight months, but I've learned some things I'm happy to pass on. I'll bet you have a million questions. Hey!" she called over her shoulder in Tasha's direction. "Two Ramen please!" She turned back to Whisper brimming with enthusiasm. "Dead Zones are places that we hunters have mapped but don't have regular guardian patrols in yet. Mapping a new Dead Zone is a pretty big deal. Look!" she pointed up to one of the strips of fabric on the wall. "This is a strip from the cloak of a hunter who mapped the Peruvian Dead Zone. Every hunter I know hopes to do something worthy of Tasha's wall. Look," she added, pointing to a strip of white with gold trim and a small signature.

"That's part of the cloak Ana Bray wore at the battle of Twilight Gap before she disappeared. That one," she said, pointing to a burgundy red fabric, "that one's from Micah-10 of the Six Coyotes, the first guardians to map the Cosmodrome. All the Vanguard hunters are here, even Lady Efrideet, one of the last Iron Lords!"

Ginger sat back with a wistful sight. "I'd love to get up there too someday, but I'm stuck. I've been saving up glimmer by running patrols for the Vanguard, but it's going to take forever to save up enough for a sparrow. And I've gone on all three jumpship recovery convoys they've announced since I got here. The last two came up empty, and the first one I didn't win the drawing for the one jumpship they did find. Ugh, I'm never going to get out of here."

Tasha arrived carrying two steaming bowls of noodles in an oily broth that smelled incredible. Ginger paid with several pieces of glimmer and the two hunters fell silent as they tucked into the meal. Whisper closed her eyes to savor the flavor and despite not needing to eat, she felt a deep satisfaction, like an itch had been scratched.

With their bowls empty, Whisper continued asking questions.

"What would you do if you had a jumpships?"

"More like what wouldn't I do," replied Ginger, leaning back and putting her hands behind her head. "You get taken seriously with a jumpship. You can go on Vanguard strikes for Marks or Commendations, or whatever they're called, and trade those in for decent Vanguard equipment. If you listen to Shaxx, that's so the Vanguard can keep them from being burned up in the Crucible, but if you ask me, it's to hold onto the good stuff for those with jumpships. I could even get to more Crucible arenas if I was crazy enough to try it. But most of all, I could just go, you know? See the ruins of London or Old Chicago, try to find the Awoken Queen out in the Reef, see the Vex on Mercury. Oh Traveler, one day, Whisper, one day."

"Well," said Whisper slowly, "you've been really nice to me. If you want, I can give you a ride somewhere."

Ginger looked back down from visions of glory on the ceiling. "Wait, you have a jumpship? How? I thought you just got here?"

"I did. My ghost found me in the Cosmodrome and he fixed a ship we found to get us here."

"That would be awesome! Oh man. Reminder, give her our contact info. When are we leaving?"

Ginger looked so eager that Whisper answered "I have a meeting I'm supposed to go to today, but we can go as soon as the jumpship is fixed. We can try tomorrow, if you want."

"Yesss… oh, I've got to go get ready! I'll meet you at the hangar first thing tomorrow. Don't leave without me!" With that Ginger leaped to her feet and dashed out of the bar.

Whisper's ghost emerged. Uh, not that you need a reminder, but before we go anywhere we'll need an update on our ship. That thing has been out of action for years. Hopefully Shipwright Holliday will have some good news for us.

Referenced Lore

Grimoire:

A Guardian Rises

The City

The Traveler

Vanguard Marks

Draksis, Winter Kell

Ghost Fragment: Exo

Servitor

Pike

House of Devils

The Fallen

Riksis, Devil Archon

Sepiks Prime

Gunsmith

Guardians

Exo

Ghosts

Story Activity Introduction

Jupiter

Saturn

Guardian Ships

Armor:

Legend of the Six Coyotes

Strength of the Pack

Dead Zone Revolution

Mechanik 1.1 (legs)

Born Spark

Tracker 1.0 (helmet)

Quest Descriptions:

Retrieve Your Ship

Requisition a Weapon

Accept the Hunter's Cache

Restoration

Speak to Cayde-6 (quest)

Talk to Cayde-6 (quest)

Speak to Zavala (quest)

Speak to Ikora (quest)

Ships:

LRv1 Javelin

LRv2 Javelin

AFv1 Octavian

AFv2 Octavian

Kestrel Class AX

Kestrel Class AX0

Regulus Class 55

NS22 Cloud Errant

Regulus Class 22a

Valkyrie-O5X

Phaeton Class v1

Phaeton Class v1.1

Lore Books:

Ghost Stories: No Rez for the Weary

Other:

Vanguard Marks

Vanguard Commendations

NLS Drive