Chapter Text
Diris squinted into the morning sunlight that sheared across the treetops of the European Dead Zone. The air outside the Last City smelled sweeter—pine sap and moss. It must have rained last night.
Her Ghost Idisi’s metal plates glittered as the small robot turned this way and that, single eye scanning the updates to the landing pad since they had last stood here. “I can see the Eliksni have done a lot of work.” The old landing pad, hanging some thirty feet up the side of the cliff, could barely fit a single supply ship with enough space to walk around it. Now, there were several additional platforms bolted into and suspended from the stone, lacking any symbols of an Eliksni house but otherwise with all the scrappy, scavenged hallmarks of Eliksni metalworking. Despite their cobbled-together appearance, they were sturdy, as testified by the small skiff that rested on one of the far platforms, undergoing repairs. Diris’s own ship perched on the next platform over.
Diris swallowed, feeling the beginnings of a hum in her throat. Her previous mission had brought a strange consequence: A strange song, woven into Diris’s unconscious mind. They had no idea what it did, except for apparently replicating itself within the mind of any who heard it, and that worried her and Idisi. For Diris, the best defense against the Song was simply constant vigilance, and a distrust of her own mind. The Ghost had found their own solution, as they talked the problem over on the journey from the Last City. “I can simply delete the song from my memory any time I hear it,” Idisi had explained. “It is easier for me to monitor my own thoughts—the unconscious mind is not natural to Ghosts, it’s a habit we picked up from humans. For a while, at least, I am training myself to eliminate background processes. Some of my computing will be slower, but it is more secure.”
Diris had sighed. “Monitoring my own thoughts so vigorously is...exhausting.”
“I can imagine.”
But the Ghost did not seem to realize how imperfect it was, as well. Diris gritted her teeth, and ran a hand through her hair. She could not let the Song slip, not in the middle of a civilian settlement.
A warm body slammed into Diris, shattering her thoughts, winding her, and nearly dropping her to the deck. “You’re back!”
“Good to see you, Nera,” Diris gasped.
“I could not sleep last night, I have been so excited since Kivraks told me you were coming,” the other woman said, pulling back from the hug. She took in Diris’s appearance. She smiled, a little sadly. “You really don’t look like Irina anymore. Look at you, a proper Guardian and everything.”
Diris shrugged, unsure how to take the comment that she did not look like the woman who had occupied this body before her. She certainly felt different than when she had left Stonehaven: more sure of her abilities, more aware of the world through which she walked, and now even attired in improved gear—a new synthweave coat, reinforced boots, and a sleek helm tucked under one arm. Still, Diris felt something in her chest ring hollow; the bright light that had been Irina was gone, from all of them.
Nera left her to greet Idisi, revealing her parent, Mayor Efe, standing in the crack in the cliff side that served as a gate. They waved, and Diris returned the gesture. Then Kivraks stepped out from behind them into the sunlight.
Diris blinked and looked again. She initially identified them as a captain by the fur ruff of their cape, and assumed they must be Kivraks, but realized she could not be sure; they wore no helm, and therefore had no distinguishing features Diris recognized. Instead a transparent breathing mask over their snout brought them fresh ether. Their head was smaller than Diris would have thought, without the ornamental frills and spikes of a captain’s helm. Their chitin face was smooth, dark grey over reddish purple skin. They sported a purple mohawk, and three bright teal eyes glowed with their own light. A scar obscured the fourth. They clicked thoughtfully, toothy mandibles twitching. Diris decided to risk calling them by name.
She approached, pressing a hand to her chest and inclining her head toward the captain. “Velask, Kivraks.”
The captain copied her. “Velask, Lightbringer Diris.” They clicked in their throat, a sound that must be a chuckle, and then they bowed again. “Please forgive laughter, Lightbearer. Diris is...an unusual name to bear with honor.”
Diris chuckled herself. “Yes, I can imagine. But please do not call me Lightbearer. Is there another name that we might agree upon?”
Kivraks nodded. “Hasiks is a name of respect—for a rival, yes, but also a friend. A name to recognize an equal.”
Diris smiled. “Shall I call you Hasiks Kivraks, then?”
Again, that sound in the captain’s throat. “No, no. Not quite right. I am Kivraks. To Kivraks, you are Hasiks.”
“Thank you.” Diris tried not to feel embarrassed at the faux pas and turned to take in the platforms once more as Nera and Idisi bounced up behind them. “I see some of your people are settling in here.”
“This isn’t even the half of it,” Efe said, stepping forward. “Good to see you again, Diris. Two other Guardians have already arrived. I will take you to them, and on the way you can see how Stonehaven has changed.”
The small community made its home in a hollowed-out hillside. But the wood and corrugated steel human homes were no longer the only residences in the large cavern. In one corner, the Eliksni had woven their own homes throughout the stalactites along the ceiling. Narrow metal walkways connected them and a few rope ladders offered access to human visitors from the cavern floor.
“Some forty Eliksni have joined Stonehaven,” Kivraks said. “Eliksni have not had soil to call our own for many long years. Planting roots feels...” They struggled quietly for a moment, and then said, “no word in your tongue is enough.”
Efe led them across the town’s main square, where life went on as it had when Diris was last here, except that a few dreg led a servitor through the market and an Eliksni vandal haggled with a human over the price of a machine part.
“Wasn’t there any tension over the Eliksni making a home here?” Diris asked Nera.
“Oh yes,” she said, “But their defense of Stonehaven made many who were already considering a treaty much more enthusiastic. There was some stalwart resistance—from Arwa’s old associates, mostly—who really dug in their heels. Some even tried to stir up some violence. Of those, some have left altogether. Others are imprisoned alongside Arwa. But her confession did more than I would have expected to make people feel like there might really be something wrong with the people who opposed the change. They decided that this group of Eliksni, at least, they could tolerate. And plenty more have come around in the weeks since.”
“Human allies have been very generous,” Kivraks said as they turned up the hill toward City Hall.
“Come,” Efe said, “Your fellow Guardians are waiting.” Efe led their little group up the stairs of the community hall and into their office.
Two Guardians awaited them—one, curly dark hair obscuring his face as he dozed in his chair, the other hastily putting down whatever object she had been fiddling with.
“Hello!” This second Guardian very nearly bounded across the room to seize Diris’s hand. “I’m Heather!” She was narrowly built, wearing hunter’s armor, with an Awoken’s blue, rippling skin and glowing gold eyes beneath a sweep of black hair. She wore bright yellow makeup on her lips and across her forehead. Her handshake was very firm and vigorous. “You must be Diris! I’ve heard so much about you, I was so excited when Cayde assigned me to this mission, anyone who’s anyone heard about your incredible Crucible display a few weeks ago, everyone’s saying no one has seen a bomb like that since Ikora herself set foot in the arena—.”
Heather paused for breath and Diris took advantage. “This is my Ghost, Idisi,” she said.
The hunter beamed. “This is Yaha!” Her Ghost bounced and trilled and spun their plates in greeting, a perfect mirror of their Guardian’s cheerfulness.
“Pleased to meet you.”
The other Guardian stretched, yawning theatrically, and then grinned when Diris recognized him.
“Arjun, what are you doing here?”
The titan winked roguishly. “Ikora asked Zavala to assign me. Quote, ‘It’s so good to see her making friends.’“
Diris scowled only to mask her smile. She was glad Arjun was along.
“So, Kivraks,” Heather sat backward in the nearest chair, toes tapping and fingers drumming on her cheeks. “What’s this about? The mission dossier said you had noticed something ‘strange’ about a group of hostile Eliksni.” She grinned. “Very mysterious.”
“Mysterious?” Kivraks considered. “Yes, I see. Come.” They strode to the desk, with one set of hands unrolling a paper map the size of the surface and the other set fiddling with a pocket-sized datapad.
“Enclaves of House of Dusk appeared across the region,” Kivraks said, sweeping a hand across camps marked in red throughout the map. “House of Dusk took survivors of old Houses when Cabal arrived.” They twitched their cloak, purple and emblazoned with the Dusk symbol—a circle between mirrored sets of lines, evoking a sunset over the ocean. “More convenient to hide within,” they explained. “Most hostile Dusk follow old ways, structured hierarchy, less restriction on Ether, but still careful. Operate mostly in scavenging crews under one captain, yes?”
“I recall, yes,” Arjun said, “I am familiar with the usual crew hierarchies.”
“You have killed many Eliksni, yes?”
The Guardians froze, non quite sure how to respond, not wanting to answer wrong.
But Kivraks chittered again in their almost insectoid giggle. “That is a joke. Guardians are strong, fight well—Eliksni respect. Guardians bear the Great Machine’s Light—some Eliksni respect. Eliksni invaded your system, killed your people for their resources, so you kill to protect—Kivraks respects.” They paused. “I see joke is...not quite right?”
Nera chuckled. “Not quite right, Kivraks. Humans do not usually joke about killing each other.”
“Ah, but one is Reefborn.” They blinked their four eyes at Heather. “Kivraks assumed one would understand.” They bowed low, suddenly gravely serious. “Please accept apologies.”
“Nonsense!” Arjun still looked unsettled, but when he laughed it was warm and full. “We all have much to learn.”
“We can discuss human and Eliksni humor later,” Diris said. “Kivraks, what is so unusual about the groups you’ve been watching?”
The captain cross-checked data on their pad with markings on the map. “Kivraks and scouts have tracked dreg, alone, in these areas.”
The Guardians crowded closer, examining the red markings that the captain indicated.
“What do you mean the dreg are alone?” Diris asked.
“No vandals. No captains. Dreg, apparently, leaderless. And they are keeping whatever they find away from House of Dusk.”
They all hmm’d to silence. Nera stepped in again. “We’ve had scouts who started shadowing them—mostly Eliksni.” She nodded to Kivraks. “They’ve all been going to the same place.”
“Cabal warship.” Kivraks tapped a long finger to the mark on the map labeled “Orobas Vectura.”
“Isn’t that the ship Verin cleared out with a fireteam not long ago?” Arjun asked. “There was an arms dealer who took it over after the Red Legion were defeated.”
“Well, now it’s Eliksni territory,” Nera said, “And we don’t want anything surprising us—nor, I take it, do your commanders. But we can’t risk sending in any of our people to check it out, none of us have the training for that.”
“And Eliksni are not welcome,” Kivraks added. “Likely cannot enter without correct knowledge, codes, greetings. Kivraks does not know these. Cannot risk alerting them.”
Heather nodded. “That’s why you need us, then.” She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Well, shall we see what these dreg are up to?”
Kivraks dipped their head. “Kivraks has planned a route, whenever you are ready.”
***
Four of them—the Guardians and their guide Kivraks—approached from the East, through the now-abandoned tunnels the Cabal had built. Nera was a ghost at their back, scoped in on the shallow valley where the ship rested, buried in pine trees upon the cliffs. As the four began to creep across the open ground between rocky outcroppings, her voice crackled in over comms. “I’ve got you in my sights. No other movement visible from here.”
They scurried quickly to the stakeout point Kivraks had selected, a cluster of boulders with a natural overhang that offered some measure of cover from the sky but an ample view of the landscape. Kivraks was helmed again, imposing with their recently-polished spikes and metal frills that added at least a foot to their height.
The group crouched, waiting for a signal from Nera.
Diris stared up at the hulking ship. The House of Dusk, and perhaps some Cabal stragglers, had stripped what must have once been an imposing, massive facade. It was still massive, but in the way of whale bones settling on the ocean floor. Much of the platting had been stripped away, exposing ductwork, wiring, and support beams. Of even these, little remained besides the supports. The Orobos Vectura was a husk, and the lands around it still, but not silent. As Diris listened, she realized birds were calling to each other in the forest, and insects chirped in the still water nearby. The land was not dead, just quiet.
Heather rapped her fingers on a nearby rock, eager to get moving. “Nera, how does it look? Are we clear?”
As if in answer to her question, the roar of an engine swept overhead.
“Negative!” Nera said. “We have a stealth’d skiff approaching. Hold position.”
Diris resisted the urge to peer around the edge of their cover.
In a moment, the skiff’s engines cut off. Comms clicked on again.
“Well,” Nera said, “Looks like there’s a captain involved after all. They’ve landed on the upper deck and what looks like a whole crew just disembarked, definitely more than just dreg, and one of them is wearing a captains helmet.”
“What House symbol do they bear?” Kivraks asked.
“The dreg are all wearing purple, but I’m not sure the captain has any markings at all.”
The Guardians all looked at each other.
“Does this mean we can go in now?” Heather asked hopefully.
“I don’t see any other skiffs on route,” Nera answered. Diris could almost hear her shrug. “You’re clear to approach, if that seems wise.”
With relish, Arjun snapped up his rifle. “Let’s kick the door in and see what they’re up to!”
Heather whooped, and Kivraks shook their head. “Lightbearers fear no death! If we seek knowledge of their purpose we must be quiet.”
Heather deflated slightly. Diris shrugged. “We should at least attempt stealth.”
“Fine, fine, fine. As long as we can get moving, finally.”
The boarding ramp of the Orobas Vectura, wide enough for two Cabal tanks to descend abreast, lay open for them. Diris hung back for a moment, checking herself. She did not think she was humming. Idisi seemed to sense her thoughts.
“We are not fighting alone today,” her Ghost said. “And I can help you keep the humming under control.”
Diris chewed her lip, but nodded.
“Come on.” Idisi’s plates turned up, like a smile. “They’re waiting for us.”
Diris’s chest tightened. Somehow, that made her more nervous. She put them at risk without even being in battle. But as her Ghost bobbed ahead up the ramp, Diris checked her guns one last time and jogged after them, into the dark hold of the Orobas Vectura.