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Language:
English
Series:
Part 8 of Fireteam Fruitloops
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Published:
2019-08-22
Words:
825
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
6
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143

Prime

Summary:

Seida's been cornered. Drifter's recruiting. Will she join?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Why’d you drag me down here, Drifter? I don’t have time for Gambit.”

“Oh, but you might start. A little pigeon told me that your schedule’s just cleared up.”

“I assure you,” Seida crossed her arms. “I’m very busy.”

A smirk tugged at Drifter’s lips. “Busy eviscerating other Guardians in Crucible?”

She squinted at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Arcite 99 had to pull you off of that poor sod, right?”

Seida’s gun hand twitched under her arm. She hoped he didn’t notice. The twinkle in his eye said he did.

“You see,” the bearded man started, pushing off the railing behind him, “I might be the Gambit guy, but I make sure to keep an eye on the Crucible. When I saw what you did to that guy? Damn, Sister. No wonder Shaxx gave you a three-month ban.”

The Hunter kept her jaw clenched, the metal creaking under the pressure. The Drifter’s eyes pierced into her, his grin widening.

“And that’s not the only thing, no. That’s just the straw that broke the camel’s back. You’ve been simmering for a while now, haven’t you? I’ve heard Zavala mention you in the discipline reports.”

Seida dug her fingers into her arm to keep herself still. The Drifter continued.

“You were sweet on the Hunter Vanguard, right? The one that bit the dust?”

Her squint deepened into a scowl. “We’re done here.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” The Drifter said. “No need to be hasty.”

“And what of it?” She hissed, turning back from halfway to the exit. “You’re not the Vanguard. You can’t tell me what to do.”

A laugh erupted from the Drifter’s chest. Seida watched, puzzled, as he held his sides, letting the sound roll through his body. After a moment, his laughter faded to a chuckle, and he shook his head before straightening out again. “Whoo! Haven’t laughed that hard in centuries!”

Seida rolled her eyes and the Drifter gave her a dismissive wave.

“No. No, no, no. I’m definitely not the Vanguard. And they sure as hell shouldn’t tell you what to do.”

“You got a point, Drifter?” Seida replied, “Or are you just trying to piss me off?”

“Piss you off? Oh no, Sister. After seeing that poor sod’s body, not in a million years.” He leaned back on the railing. “I’m trying to offer you something.”

“What can you possibly offer me? There’s nothing I want.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. I didn’t bring up Cayde for no reason. You and I can both see that the Vanguard’s failed you.”

Seida looked away, her hands clenched into fists. She could hear the smile in Drifter’s voice.

“They stopped you from following after him. Stopped you from avenging him. And now? Now they’re blocking you from everything you need to heal. Ship’s impounded . Crucible’s banned . You’ve been confined to the Tower”—he paused, waiting until the sound of Seida grinding her jaw evened out—“I’ll do none of that. I offer you this—direction. Purpose. With the added bonus of total freedom. No red tape. No hoopla.”

A pause hung in the air, thick over the space in between the Guardian and the Rogue Lightbearer. Seida felt it weighing down on her shoulders, working its way across her senses. She heard the Drifter shift behind her. It hurt how confident he was. But it hurt more to know he spoke the truth. When she turned to face him, he was mere feet from her.

“What’s your price?” The Hunter finally said. Her voice felt far away, somewhere deep in her chest. “Just Gambit?”

He pulled a green coin from inside his coat and rolled it over his knuckles. The light glinted off its sides.

‘Just Gambit’? It’s about to get a whole lot bigger than ‘just Gambit’ . Gambit’s just the beginning. Prime isn’t the end either. I’m just getting started, and I need people with spunk like you. I need people with anger, a willingness to dip into the darkness within. And, most importantly”—he flipped the coin and caught it—“I need people I can trust.”

“You’re asking for trust, then?”

“I’m asking for loyalty.” The Drifter held out his hand, and in his palm was not a coin as Seida thought, but a small emerald-colored pendant—two snakes coiled on each other. She looked at him once more before taking it by its braided red cord.

“What makes you so sure about me?”

The Drifter scratched at his beard. “Pigeon’s been telling me a lot of things. I’ve seen how dedicated you can be. And,” he smirked at her again, “I don’t think he wanted you to feel so lost.”

Seida paused, looking him in the eye. He seemed to be expecting it, keeping his gaze even. That part made the unease in her gut double. But she tucked the pendant into her pocket anyway. The Drifter nodded.

“Welcome to the crew, Sister.”

His smile was all teeth.

Notes:

I love the Drifter as a character, but I hate him on principle--but I enjoy writing in his voice. Thanks for reading, written in March 2019 during the Season of the Drifter.

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