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Chapter Text

"Empress Caiatl?"

Unlike with Nimbus, Sunny knew this relationship could be soured, but she wanted to know. She also respected the empress's appreciation for candor.

"Ghost," she responded, turning her amber eyes to the hovering Light. She probably didn't know Sunny's name. Considering the circumstances, that might have been a good thing.

Sunny skipped to the point. "Did my Guardian try to shoot me?"

Caiatl rocked her weight back and crossed her arms with a firm, "Hmph," that might have been a laugh. ""Try" is a very strong term. I've seen your Guardian "try". She made a weak attempt at thinking about trying to shoot you."

Sunny was oddly relieved to hear that. "So. She didn't?"

"I know why you are approaching me on this matter, but you will not find the comfort you seek," she rumbled.

"Actually, for plain simple truth, I think you're perfect," Sunny argued, trying to stop bobbing and reduce twitching. "What exactly happened?"

Caiatl shifted on her massive feet, standing regally statuesque. "Calus was defeated. You, your Guardian, I, and the silver one they call Nimbus were gathered at the vortex of the veil. You were possessed by The Witness and flew into the vortex. I told your Guardian to destroy you."

Caiatl's stern glare hardened, and she squared herself into a combative stance. "Your Guardian, to her credit, lifted her weapon; but her efforts to take aim took more time than killing three of my soldiers. Regardless of her intention, she failed in her task."

Sunny froze in the air and didn't bother fighting the twitches. The empress's eyes were harder than her helmet.

"So to say that your Guardian tried to shoot you is a grand overstatement," she continued. "She could have doomed us all in this failure. I withheld judgement, but until you came to ask me, I assumed she refused to sacrifice her Light."

Sunny twitched again and tried to hold still. "Why until I asked?"

Finally, the stare softened, and her stance eased. "I am perplexed by you Ghosts. Your relationship seems servile, and yet you all seek this bonded partner that seems to inevitably become a headstrong toddler for the first hundred years."

Sunny blinked at her, hoping she'd clarify.

"I expected a Guardian to bond with you only for the magic Light, and I would expect a Ghost to know that. I have not seen what I would call mutual friendship between you," Caiatl continued, apparently knowing she wasn't understood but not knowing how to fix that.

Sunny finally figured out what she meant. "Oh! You thought Freija didn't love me. And me asking means I didn't think she would try to shoot me, which means I have to feel like she loves me."

"In as many words, yes," agreed Caiatl. "Your... Behavior indicates pain, and a betrayal from someone you know is using you is different from one from someone who you feel loves you."

Sunny watched Caiatl's eyes for several long moments, unable to see into them. "Thank you, Empress," she said, not sure what else could be said. The respect for the idea surprised the Ghost.

"I am withholding judgement," she repeated, "but I am glad for this new information. That the difficulty was the sacrifice of a friend, rather than power, is less unsettling. I gave the Guardians credit for bravery. Yours disappointed me."

Sunny wheeled her petals uncertainly, unable to think of anything to say, so she rocked forward in a "nod" and bobbed about a foot in a "curtsey" and flew away.

Chapter Text

"Empress Caiatl?"

Sunny didn't really mean to stake her out, but Freija's practice with Strand got boring, and apparently most of the Empress's job was logistics, yelling at people (mostly her generals), officiating ceremonies, making imperial announcements, and standing around waiting to yell at someone on extremely short notice. More politicking might have been necessary at some point but the end of the universe got in the way a bit.

The amber eyes shone from under the gold helm, piercing Sunny. "I remember you," she said. "Your voice is familiar. And so is your Guardian." She paused and her faceplate shifted as she examined the ghost in front of her. "This is not the..." She moved a cupped hand to indicate a sphere, "that I remember."

Sunny wheeled her petals unconsciously, only then figuring out what she meant. "Oh, yes! I have different shells I like to wear, today was cute and flashy. Also it bothers Freija because she doesn't like it and was a jerk about it, and it's funny to watch her chew on that." The Ghost didn't mean to babble, but fortunately, the empress seemed amused, rocking back and relaxing her stance. "Anyway, I remembered something you said about not understanding us and our relationship with our Guardians, and I wanted to offer to answer any questions, if I can. I can't speak for the whole, but I can tell you what I know and what I think and what others have told me."

Caiatl's tusks moved down then up in consideration. "I accept this offer," she rumbled. "We will have this interview later." She fixed her feet before she added, "I have many questions."

Heartened, Sunny bounced and wheeled her petals before she could stop herself. "Can we do, maybe, one or two at a time? Whenever we're both floating around in here?" Sunny offered, knowing how Caiatl valued her time, and how Freija got with new toys. "It's going to happen again."

"Indeed," agreed the empress. "But first- why?"

"Why what?"

"I said before the young ones act like toddlers. Constant deliberate suicide. A sporting arena for the occasion. I understand the humans-- if my troops were given immortality, firing themselves out of the cannons would become a hobby. I do not understand the ghosts. Why raise them? Even with their use of your power, anything else would better serve you."

Sunny wheeled her petals clockwise and back. "We have to."

"Some unconscious demand?" Caiatl asked.

"More or less, yeah," Sunny agreed. "And when we find them, we know we've found them because of a... Spark, some call it, but I say it was more like a song or even a smell." She wheeled again.

The empress stared at the little blue eye floating in front of her. "This sounds like nonsense. I suppose an entity with only an eye would have difficulty explaining their experiences of the world," she observed succinctly.

Sunny appreciated the mercy and she bobbed her 'curtsey'. This time, she got to see the tusks move up and her eyes squint-- a smile.

"The few of you I've seen spend your time floating behind someone who takes your presence and role for granted. Aside from satisfying this subconscious demand, is there a reward for this arrangement?"

Sunny wheeled again. "I got a Guardian. This makes me and a lot of others happy. Rex is one who doesn't like his Guardian, but he maintains his connection because he values it and his Guardian both, even if they disagree and don't like each other."

"Is this all?" Caiatl asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I mean, we don't know what we're going to get at first. But when we find them and get to know them, their value to us is the same way as any other person, but there's a connection with her that I don't have with anyone else. I love my Guardian, but it's kind of deeper than that. Rex doesn't like to admit that he loves his, too.

"But it's not always like that. I know a few that chose new Guardians, after they decided they made a mistake with the first one. A lot of horror stories come from ghosts who selected the wrong ones, or even the right ones but it still went bad. Times it was the right one but they were lost forever, and they had to move on."

Caiatl's tusks drifted downward as she considered the new information.

"This is enough for now. You are dismissed," she told the ghost, turning away. Sunny "curtseyed" with a three-foot bob and flew away to find Freija.

Chapter Text

"Ghost." Empress Caiatl loomed in the doorway, but Sunny was comfortable enough approaching her. Freija was meditating again, so she had time.

"Empress Caiatl!" Sunny cheered. "How are you?"

"Tired," replied Caiatl briefly. "You searched for your Guardian for centuries, yes?"

"Yes," Sunny replied. "It was very lonely. I took breaks in the tower to make friends, but looking for your Guardian is lonely business most of the time."

Caiatl grunted, but Sunny couldn't read the tone. "Was she what you were looking for?"

Sunny snickered to herself. "I don't know what I was looking for, but she did surprise me over and over for a long time. I hoped for Awoken. I didn't expect a Titan. I don't know what I expected for brains, but what I got was this beautiful mix of both brainlessness and brilliance."

Caiatl's tusks shifted up and then down, and she gave her gruff, "Hmph!" laugh. The sad undertone wasn't lost on Sunny, and she spun to look more directly at Caiatl's face beyond the helm. Her posture stooped and her eyes somehow looked weary.

"You knew someone like my Guardian," Sunny guessed, knowing mourning when she saw it.

"I did," Caiatl confirmed with a heavy sigh. She puffed her chest up and squared her shoulders. "She held her shield at my flank even in death. A brilliant tactician, forbidden to pilot anything flying."

Sunny giggled, remembering Freija's earliest landing efforts.

"I believe I understand your Guardian better. I do not think I would fail, but I would certainly hesitate if my mission were to shoot H'al'ra."

Sunny bobbed slightly. She wanted to make it clearer, but she couldn't, so she just wheeled her petals and waited for Caiatl to direct the conversation.

"This is not a point of forgiveness. Were she under my command, I would have her executed. But she would be treated well until the execution. An understandable failure is a failure."

Sunny bobbed again and wheeled her petals. "She would probably be fine with that. She's been beating herself up."

Caiatl's body tensed and her eyes narrowed, and she rocked her weight back. Finally, she said, "I would gladly spare her the effort."

Sunny wheeled her petals nervously. "That's a joke, right? 'cos it's funny if it is, but I wouldn't blame you if it's not, because I wanna--"

"It was indeed a joke," Caiatl rumbled with a low chortle. "I have fought Guardians in sport. None have survived a kick to the chest, and only a few have stopped me."

The woman's tusks drooped, then lifted. "I am disappointed in your Guardian. She made a mistake, but I am not interested in vengeance against a woman who could not bring herself to murder a close friend in moments."

Sunny didn't want to talk about it, but she did, and Caiatl would understand, even if she didn't want to or didn't like Freija... "She hasn't been handling it well. The whole thing was really hard on her."

Caiatl's posture solidified, but she didn't say anything.

"Sorry," Sunny muttered. "Wanna talk about something else? Boys?" she joked. "I don't know anything about... any of that, actually."

Caiatl settled slowly and chortled but didn't answer. "I will tell you, instead, of a pond on Torobotl that the meditation pool reminds me of," she rumbled.

Chapter Text

"Ghost."

"Empress!" Sunny chirped, happy to be approached.

"Do you have a name?"

"I'm Sunny!" she chirped. "Freija named me after a few months of being Risen. We wanted to wait for something to sound right."

"And your Guardian is Freija," she said. "How are names given?"

"That's very personal and individual, and I'm pretty sure every single one of us has a different answer, even the ones who still use Ghost. I wanted my Guardian to name me from very early on. We got Freija's after being caught in a spare library. The priestess that caught us was overwhelmed half the time, but she helped us pick out Freija."

Caiatl's stance rocked back and her shoulders squared. Sunny guessed it was satisfaction with the answer.

After some thought, Caiatl said, "Another question; Who is in command?"

Sunny giggled, bobbing as she rolled over every answer she could give. "We all have different relationships with our Guardians," she explained. "For me and Freija, we go back and forth, depending on what we're doing. If it requires brain, me, and brawn goes to her. For obvious reasons. But I wouldn't even say we're in charge so much as getting our parts done. Sometimes we argue, and we compromise. I know Rex would have his Guardian on a leash if he could, and more than a few go completely unheeded. It depends."

"Yes. This is all, today. Thank you for your time," Caiatl said stiffly, thundering through the room and out the door. Sunny could only wonder if it was something she said....

Chapter Text

"Ghost. Sunny."

Sunny didn't mean to bob so happily when the empress called her by name but it just made her core jump with joy. She didn't expect to make friends or anything, but the formality took forever to wear off.

"Empress!" Cheered Sunny.

"Your Guardian is occupied?"

The question struck Sunny as odd, but she liked the change. "She's meditating. It's hard for her. So yes."

"Follow me."

Sunny pondered possibilities of danger and wondered if Caiatl would do half the things she could. The political fallout of hurting a Ghost wouldn't be worth it, and hopefully Caiatl liked her enough not to want to. The Ghost hovered behind Caiatl's casually lumbering pace, following the golden helmet down a brightly-lit rounded hallway.

"I would have you interview with one of my Psions, but I would prefer to have your Guardian present or participating. I do not know if it would affect your connection."

Sunny had never met a Psion, and she was curious, but she didn't think Freija would like it. "Maybe permission while she takes a nap or something. I don't know if she'd be okay, but I do know that if she's not, she'll start throwing hammers, no matter whose head we're in."

Caiatl's tusks wagged or bounced, a slight up and down a couple times.

"I think you might like my Guardian," Sunny offered.

Caiatl's tusks bounced again. "I would have, had she not potentially doomed the universe because she would not sacrifice her friend," she agreed.

Sunny drooped in the air and lowered her voice to a murmur. "I understand. She said she couldn't. I wish she could have. Been beating herself up about it since. It makes me feel bad to feel betrayed, too, but I can't help that. Freija says her real mistake, the thing she should have done differently, was grab me the moment I said I felt funny."

Caiatl's pace slowed when she turned her eyes to the Ghost silently for several long moments, boring into the little drone, before she continued her walk down the corridor. "She would be correct. Learning lessons too late seems to be a pattern with the Guardians."

Sunny felt the sting on Freija's behalf but she couldn't disagree. In fact, she complained about it herself. "Well, they don't have to be as careful about their mistakes." This One's argument haunted her, too. "Makes it real easy to forget that we don't always get second chances. Or five hundred, depending on the event."

Caiatl chortled darkly. "Under these particular circumstances, this is unfortunate, but I confess a dark amusement when they get determined. All but throwing themselves into the arms of death. I have not seen Zavala behave in this manner, but I am certain that he has."

Sunny knew it wasn't even that long ago, but she still decided to give him some credit and went with the last one she could actually think of. "I didn't know him before he became Vanguard, so I never knew him like that. You'd have to ask Targe, his Ghost. I bet he could share some great stories. I don't know if he would, I don't know him that well, either."

Caiatl's tusks did the uncomfortable shifting thing, lowering and picking up to lower again. "I have considered asking to meet his Ghost, after having met you, but I hesitate. I gather that this relationship between Ghost and Guardian carries a level of intimacy most prefer unshared. You are the first Ghost to approach me. I rarely hear the others speak. Valus Forge's Ghost has been seen by few indeed."

Sunny blinked up at her and didn't notice that she stopped until Caiatl turned to face her. "I mean, I'm not too surprised, when I think about it," Sunny admitted, "but I didn't think... The first?"

"I assume my status slipped your mind when you learned your Guardian threatened you," Caiatl said airily, eyes squinting and tusks lifting. Teasing.

"It must have," Sunny admitted, blinking up at the empress, having subconsciously sunk to shoulder level. "I would still expect Targe to introduce himself at some point."

Caiatl's weight shifted between her feet and the tusks shifted.

"I'm glad to be the first, though!" Sunny chirped, hoping to assuage the awkward. "You could probably just ask, we're pretty friendly. Usually."

Once again, Caiatl's weight and tusks shifted uneasily.

"What'd I say?"

Caiatl didn't respond, doing it a third time. Sunny waited, turning to scan the nearest plaque without another word.

After a few moments, Caiatl finally admitted, "I do not have the necessary diplomatic skills unless you have an ambassador. This informality is only permissible in these contexts."

Sunny tilted up and dropped back, relieved that she hadn't actually messed up. "Oh, okay!" Sunny flew back to Caiatl's side at about the height of her helmet. "I'm not sure how to bridge that gap. I'll be your friend 'til then. Ahhh..." Sunny wished she had lips to bite. She felt her eye vibrate. "I mean. Uh."

"I accept this term," chuckled Caiatl. "Between yourself and your Guardian, we have built the necessary rapport. She has fought at my side, you have... Walked at my side." She gave a gruff laugh.

Sunny giggled nervously and swam in the air, sweeping nervously and stretching her petals in turn. "Okay. That's nice."

Caiatl's shoulders squared and her head rocked back. "I am still disappointed in your Guardian."

Sunny found herself getting lower in the air, to the middle of her chest plate. "She could have killed us all, so I don't blame you. I'm too busy being happy to be alive to really be mad at her. I know it's selfish."

"This is the only world you could have seen," Caiatl growled. "As much as I enjoy your company, little Ghost, you are fortunate that I did not want to risk shooting the vortex. I am not certain her rifle would have done the job."

Sunny bobbed. "We thought about that, too."

Caiatl gave Sunny a sidelong look. Sunny couldn't hear what she was not-saying, however, so she bobbed around to see more face and body language. Caiatl somehow translated the sidelong look into a straightforward stare without losing meaning. "What has your Guardian to say for herself?"

Sunny rocked, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You have not shared our discussions with your Guardian?" she inquired, tusks picking up.

"I did the first one, when I asked you what happened, but these haven't really included her. She did say she knew she lost your respect, and it was too late to change that." Sunny left out the parts where Freija had declared herself just fine with that, and said she would do it again.

"You said she is not handling this event well," Caiatl remembered. "'Beating herself up.' In what senses did you mean this?"

Sunny wondered how much would be too much. Caiatl could understand, probably better than most, and they actually needed help here, but Freija wouldn't like being told on. "She has fits when she remembers looking down the sights," Sunny murmured, looking away. "Because she tried and because she failed. I die in most of her nightmares, at her hand, at yours, The Witness, and the Traveler herself making me explode to stop the Witness, too. Both celebrations for her success, punishments for failure. She's buried herself in the Strand, I'm pretty sure she's trying to keep herself busy."

Caiatl's pace slowed. "You've said before that your Guardian has had four years' experience in life itself. All of it has been war," she observed. "This will be her first real nightmare, what would become her terror in the Leviathan. I imagine it would take your shape."

Sunny remembered the Leviathan being hard on the empress, but she didn't know what to say, and she wheeled her petals.

Caiatl led them around a corner, revealing the main Hall of Heroes through a doorway--they had walked a loop. "Oh, hey," she murmured with surprise.

"I find it settling to pace these halls," Caiatl told her. "We will speak again later."

Chapter Text

"Sunny."

"Caiatl."

"Follow me."

Sunny did, taking up a spot near Caiatl's helm wing as she led them down the Hall, back to the landing point on the balcony.

Sunny could hear music, loud and thumping, coming from outside. "You're going to ask me about the--"

"Yes, I am going to ask you about the dancing."

Rather than actually ask any questions, she simply took them to the door where they could see the crowd of easily twenty Guardians dancing together. Several Ghosts hovered around the circle playing the same song slightly off beat from each other; not that it mattered, only a few of the Guardians seemed to care about the music at all.

Caiatl lifted a demonstrative palm.

"To be perfectly honest, I have no idea."

"You must."

"I think... They do this as a social thing? Usually when one is dancing alone, they're hoping someone else will join? And start a party? I think? Freija only ever does it with Rise or groups. Or she's bored, but that's specifically when she knows she's not going to be bothered, usually waiting on Rise."

"Who is Rise?"

"Her... Hunter. It's a fireteam thing."

"Ahh. A member of the cadre. Do they often dance together?"

"What, fireteams? Oh yeah. Rise and Freija? Sometimes."

The pair drifted into silence as they observed the display of arrhythmic flailing and it gained and lost members.

"How long can this continue? Guardians are tireless?"

"Oh they get tired. Eventually."

Chapter Text

"Sunny."

"Empress Caiatl!"

"Drop the honorific," she commanded. "Walk?"

Her habit of making statements and expecting you to know you were supposed to answer.... "Merrily!"

"Can you sense the location of your guardians?"

Sunny gave Caiatl a quick glance. It wasn't like Saladin wasn't on her ship, so she could have gotten the information without her...

"No," she answered honestly.

"Can you explain the nature of your connection?"

Sunny blinked. "Uh. Probably not, but I can try. Freija has used the best one I've heard, she talked about the part of her that is me, because I definitely feel the same way, that there's a part of her in me. And sometimes when I'm close enough and it's quiet, I can feel her heart beating, which I love doing. And I can feel... Her. And when she dies, I know when she's dead."

Caiatl humphed.

"I can sense acute states of being, pain and happiness, too," she added as she remembered. "Sleeping, wakefulness, which sort of attuned power, even the dark ones."

Caiatl humphed again.

"Is that not what you meant? I thought you'd mean in that sense, since you asked about the location thing."

"That is not what I meant," Caiatl chortled. "But I appreciate this answer."

"What did you mean?"

"I do not have a better way to ask it," Caiatl grumped. "If I find one, I will try again."

"Sun--oh." Freija stopped at the door and turned on her heel to walk away.

Caiatl looked at Sunny, and her eyes narrowed. "Not today," she murmured. "It was a pleasant talk."

"She's grown, she'll be fine on her own for a little while," Sunny said, but then she felt a pang of something unpleasant from her guardian and looked to the door. "Actually, she's not, it was lovely to talk with you," she called back as she rushed out the door.

Chapter Text

"Does the impact not hurt?"

"Pretty sure they die so fast it doesn't, so the only thing they experience is the fall, which none of them mind."

"Being shot?"

"All of them hate being shot, but not as much as they hate all the other stuff they hate."

"Burning? Electrocution?"

"I blame the armor for how well they tolerate that. And also them having their own. Freija says, "Oh that's not mine" a lot."

"I suppose the drop pods and wall impacts are similar to landing from heights. Drowning?"

"They hate it. In their armor, most are afraid of water. So many horror stories about bodies being washed away."

"Suffocating?"

"Hate it. They try not to end up in those situations."

"Cleaved? Beaten?"

"I think that one varies. I know a couple of people who like fighting like that."

"The Scorpius turrets?"

"Annoying and painful, but really they just hurt."

"The Headhunter's rifles?"

"Okay, see, with Freija and with her friends, they have this thing where they all agree that the shots themselves only hurt the first time, though they do hurt a lot, it just feels like being slammed in the back of the head. But at the same time all of them have personal vendettas over anything that sounds like that rifle's high pitched charge up and hate dying that way because it happens a whole lot over and over and over.... "

"Projection rifle?"

"That's those grenade launchers. They don't hurt but they disorient, so annoying?"

"Severus cleavers?"

"Freija has used the word "intense" but she had a sword at the time. As far as I know, this is one they don't mind because taking the hit is usually a mistake they only make once."

"Magma launcher?"

"Ow."

"The slug shotguns?"

"Those are awful, they chew her to death!"

"The slug launcher?"

"I refuse to believe you call it that. We hate that thing. Another chews-us-to-death, but this one has push."

"Threshers?"

"Doesn't hurt long, but hurts a lot. Seven on the "hate it" scale. Personally I don't like cleaning up after them."

"There is not supposed to be much to clean up. Tanks?"

"Honestly, those are just scary? If we get hit, we died, but now we have to come back and deal with a tank. If we keep our distance, they usually can't get where we can hide. Maybe a three?"

"Interceptor?"

"Remember what I said about the headhunter one? Hate this not because it's actually bad but because it's incredibly frustrating? That. Eight."

"Accidents in the drill? I have seen many."

"Oh, Light, I hate that one."

"Cleanup?"

"Ugh!"

Chapter Text

"Are they all bloodthirsty?"

"That's kinda complicated, because I honestly don't think that's inherently a Risen thing, but most of them get that way because it's necessary for their environment and not having that quality means lots of painful deaths with nothing to counter it with."

"Are there pacifistic ones Raised?"

"Like I said, it doesn't last long. Even Earth itself gets pretty hostile with wildlife and just plain biome. Lots died violently, too, and I think that leaves an impression on who they are when they wake up."

"..."

"...?"

"You Ghosts teach them this violence."

"Uh. Sometimes. Sort of."

"..."

"Yes. We do. Most Guardians figure out about half of the things they can do on their own, and most of them wake up knowing how to use at least one weapon with proficiency, but yes, ultimately, we teach them how to use their light and find them weapons and armor as early as we can."

"It is easy to forget you are also a warrior."

"I'm not."

"How much did you teach your Guardian?"

"... Well..."

"..."

"I mean, she woke up knowing how to use a hand cannon, one of the big little ones? And she knew her fiery punch, and the barrier shield came to her out of, I guess, gut instinct because I deliberately didn't teach her about it."

"How much did you teach your Guardian?"

"Every grenade she can use, her hammer, all the long range weapons from scout rifle to rocket launcher, we're still working on shotguns but that's her thing, pretty much every crucible tactic she's familiar with, how to use her radar, when to use her radar, and in general, yes it's my fault she's that effective and efficient at mowing down anything she wants.

"It is easy to forget you are also a warrior."

"You have this thing where you can repeat yourself and be saying something different? But the same thing? It's neat but I dunno if I like it."

"Duly noted."

"See, that one is better, where you're being dryly sarcastic and even kinda mean but politely. That one is really impressive."

"You are a terrible diplomat."

"That's why I'm not a diplomat. I'm a Ghost. One to a Guardian who seems to be waking up, so I'll see you later!"

Chapter Text

"I have considered what it would be like to remember only the last ten years of my life. It is the closest to Guardian experience I can imagine. It would not be a pleasant lifetime."

"..."

"Are they completely amnesiac when you find them?"

"Uhhh. Mostly? We get surprised now and then by the scraps retained from their previous lives, but that's all they ever are. As far as I know, there's never been an exception."

"Scraps?"

"Oh, things like... Well, the most common is a strong sense of having forgotten something. I've only seen Freija do it once; she lost her mind, walking in circles saying, "I know this place, I know this place, I know this place," in a cove in Rhea Silvia. I think she died long enough ago that she never saw anyone familiar, but I've heard about the occasional face recognition, also a limited, "I knew you" kind of thing. That usually doesn't go well, because people don't like seeing the faces of their loved ones like that. Sometimes, they'll remember things like how to fly a ship or ride a sparrow, certain weapons, combat techniques, tactics; names of people or places, historical facts. Freija remembered the Reef and Earth, and she could even find her way around certain parts of the Dreaming City. She can only sort of read, but I think that's rare to forget, and I'm not sure she could read well in her first life, so that might be unchanged and I wouldn't know. I've had to guess a lot. She knew how to fly, though not well, and between those two, I've had to guess she was born on Earth and visiting the Reef, or moved from Earth to the Reef in her lifetime but didn't live there long enough to take in the culture before she died."

"You learn nothing about their previous lives?"

"In the initial scans? I didn't, and if anyone told me they did, I wouldn't believe them because of how much I didn't. Picking up what you can by where you found them is pretty normal but we've all kind of agreed to keep speculation on who they were out of the Guardians' ears unless they ask."

"Any particular reason?"

"Actually, kind of? There's been stories of insanity and obsession. Ana Bray was famously obsessed with who she was and her previous family's work. She died wearing a name badge in a facility she worked at, so she had whole catalogues of information. It's not a bad thing all the time, but sometimes it is, so it's just better to keep eyes forward."

"Hmph."

Chapter Text

"What is this 'shell'? The nature of Ghost shells."

"Oh! They're. Um. Kinda like armor? We're actually just the little ball and the shell is like clothes or armor. They've been around for a long time, and I would have to dig the better part of a thousand years in here to find if I remember ever not having one. There was a long time where I didn't care, and then when I did, I decided I would let my Guardian help me, and then it turned out that Freija and I don't like any of the same things."

Caiatl chortled, but she had her helm turned to Sunny, expecting her to continue. Sunny even knew it was because she got sidetracked. "It's kind of magnetic, and it's kind of static, but it's Light instead of ions. I also don't know when it got popular to decorate them, but these days they're sold in catalogues. We move them both consciously and unconsciously, some more than others."

"You move frequently," Caiatl observed. "I do not know if this is common for Ghosts."

Sunny knew that, but she didn't know it stuck out so much that someone who didn't know Ghosts would know that.

"The expressiveness has helped my understanding," Caiatl continued. "Many of your... Enthusiastic flights and the various distances and directions you move the... pieces, are too obvious to dismiss or misinterpret."

Sunny froze, surprised and pleased to hear it but not knowing how to respond.

"It becomes plainer when you stop," Caiatl said, striding away with a smile in her posture.

Sunny chased after her. "Hey, hey, hey, you do the same thing with your tusks!"

"I do," she agreed. "I exercise control over my tusks. It has been nice to relax that with you."

Sunny froze again. Caiatl "smiled" with her eyes and waited for the Ghost to bob in place before she took off again.

"You, however, have been amusing to watch. Your struggles to maintain composure for the sake of protocol have been... Cute."

Sunny wished she could blush. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Nothing needs to be said. I stated an opinion."

The Ghost still couldn't think of anything-- but she just said that was okay.... What were they talking about? "Right, so, these days there's lots of shells, and most Guardians or Ghosts or both have a collection of favorites, and I know one who changes clothes with his Guardian like every time she changes clothes, and I know one who only likes ball-shaped shells because it misses being the Traveler--"

"Being?"

"Well, I don't remember this, but Ghost swears it does--we all were born when the Traveler broke, and it says we were all the Traveler. It calls that "when we were me" or some variations on that kind of pronoun play. I don't get it."

Caiatl's tusks wagged thoughtfully, so Sunny gave her a second.

"The word you use for shell is used for a variety of creatures of soft insides and hard plated outsides."

"Yep! Was anything like that on Torobatl?"

"The creature I have in mind is... Big."

"Shells are shells, no matter what they're on. As long as it's shield-like enough, I guess?"

"Then it is not unlikely that our Gra'aoul had what would be called a shell."

Sunny spun as she tried to resist. "It's called a growl?"

"An apt word in this language," she chortled. "We would hunt them for festivals." She turned her arm to show Sunny a scar spanning the width of the massive arm. A second one started at her elbow -- the space between claws spanned the length of Caiatl's forearm.

"Oh wow."

"It bore a plate like armor of bone on its back," Caiatl explained, cupping a hand to indicate the curve to the armor plate. "Would this qualify?"

Sunny wheeled and tilted. "As far as I know? There could be some really specific words to name what does and doesn't make a shell, but there's no reason to make you dig into all that as long as you get the idea."

Caiatl grunted pleasantly. "And your shells can be removed?"

"Yeah. It's not even really that hard," she admitted, stretching one petal up and forcing it out of the field. The tiny metal wedge bounced off her shoulder plate and landed in Caiatl's outstretched hand. The flap hardly sized up against her fingernail, and looked like a speck on her enormous palm. "I mean. If you tried to take it off a Ghost, you'd probably have to deal with a lot of trouble, 'cos we're not entirely helpless, but most of us prefer not to hurt anyone."

"I could hardly. Crushing it would be easier," Caiatl rumbled, holding her open palm up to Sunny and watching carefully as she tilted upside down to pick it up, spin the single flap in place, and smoothly returned it to its place. "This one is new to me."

"It's old to me! This is a shell that Eva Levante gave us at Dawning! I love the sparkles that come off it."

Caiatl offered the pleased grunt. "You seem to prefer shells of this disc shape."

"I have a thing for the pattern on it, too," she said, wheeling the flower merrily.

"The ones I have seen before have triangular pieces."

"That's a pretty typical shell shape, yep, the "normal" one."

"You do not like it?"

"Nope."

Caiatl chortled again.

Sunny saw the end of the walk ahead, but Freija was still asleep. "Another lap? Until you get called away?"

Chapter Text

"You say you Ghosts were formed when the Traveler broke during the collapse."

"According to other Ghosts who remember, and all the stories written about the earliest Ghosts."

"All of you?"

"Funny thing, but we don't know, and we know very little about the Traveler as a whole and even if there were recently created Ghosts, we would all still have the same story of searching for our Guardian since we developed memory."

"Does this mean that you do not know if there are new Ghosts being created?"

"That's exactly what it means, yep. There's two I know I want to ask, because they got lucky and found their Guardians shortly after they died, and they'll actually know the difference between ten years and a hundred, but it's... Kinda rude? You know how there's stuff--the informality context thingie, but with the gooey organic processes. Us talking about our search isn't really appropriate? Like... Heehee! We can talk about finding them and about particularly interesting things we found during the search, but the whole, "first I looked, then I looked, then I looked?" It's rude. I only have earth social norms, but if you guys have the same attitudes toward privacy, it's the difference between telling someone you had a baby and going into details about its conception."

"Hah!"

"You've made that noise before, but I can't remember why."

"You have often led me to think Ghosts are like parents to their Guardians. I do not think this stays true, but yours being young, you give me many examples. This, and the time before, you made a direct comparison."

"...They get less stupid. And better self-control."

"Hmph".

"They do! Honestly, I think Freija might just be like that. Most Guardians are very emotional. Me and This One and Harmony have theories about why they're like that, but I think you're right about their age being part of it."

"Hmph."

Chapter Text

"You say your Guardian has been Risen for four years."

"Yes?"

"Is this common? This youth?"

"The average age of Guardians is probably five hundred or so, but if you were to grab a random Tower-dweller and ask, you'd probably hear more numbers under fifty than over."

"...."

"I won't tell anyone what you said, what's the joke?"

"Poor Zavala."

Chapter Text

"Where does your Freija appear in the dynamic of cadres?"

"Well. Depends. In crucible, we're the idiot that leads the charge or holds the line while the flank goes around. In strikes or casual cleanup, she just wants to help, so she'll hang back and check on everyone, but she comes off as so condescending when she does it."

"Vul'Ul is the word for her position in combat. Rarely the leader, always in front. Ha'al'ra was ours."

"What was your word?"

"... A'luus. It does not have a direct translation, but the role is the intimidating factor of a party, the one who shakes the morale of the other forces. I was a child then. It helped grow my voice."

"Rise is the one who Freija is holding the line for. It's stupid but it works. Rise is better with working with her weapons than Freija, so she flanks and cleans up whatever isn't on fire when she gets there. What's Rise?"

"There is a word for the sharp one and a word for the one who goes behind the enemy line. Roughly sniper and saboteur but these ideas are too strict."

"No no, I get it, deadly as opposed to sneaky. Rise is definitely the deadly one, sniper."

"Ava'us'laru. Ours was Ag'ran. He was small for his age, but he made up for it with his rifle, and he had a knack for placing his explosives effectively."

"You sound sad again."

"Hmph."

"You use 'hmph' to great effect."

"It is called diplomacy. I am sure you will remain terrible at it."

Chapter Text

"So, you said you were the scary one."

"Does this role exist?"

"Okay, so, we don't do words like that, but we've got a phrase, where we put an adjective between "the' and 'one', so we have The Smart One and The Stupid One and The Mean One. Sometimes it's a noun on its own, the Leader, the Healer. Some are more and less formal and officially respected, but since none of the Guardians have names for their station besides Guardian, they just kind of pick up titles and nicknames."

"Ours are specifically for use in the context of young Ulurans growing up in a group. I believe you would call us gangs."

"I liked cadre, considering the military culture. Squad or troop, maybe?

"Hmph."

"I'm sure there's more words in more languages for the little gatherings of like-aged adolescents who are generally into something they shouldn't be. Clique comes to mind. It's just a matter of the flavor of mischief."

"Hmph."

"Anyway, we have the same thing as you. I was wondering about where the overlap began and ended. Like the Leader, and what their jobs are. Our leaders aren't the chief strategists, but they work with as many as they can to get the best idea of how to handle things, and they're still the decision maker. Yours would include strategy?"

"Indeed."

Chapter Text

"This Titan business is...?"

"Are you asking me what a Titan is or...?"

"There are three, I have noticed. You refer to yours as a Titan. Zavala is also a Titan. I rather like them, so far. There are also the smaller two, who are... Like Osiris, and...?"

"I think the only Hunter you'd know is Crow. Osiris... Having lost his Light, he probably doesn't count, except he is still totally a warlock. Like, you know the, starts talking way too fast and like you're supposed to know what he's talking about? Not every warlock does that, but everyone who does that is a warlock. Titans don't do the rambling thing, they just do the thing and then look at you like you should've known to do that. Hunters just... Vanish. And then you find them again later. With pieces of explosives."

"Hmph!"

"These are all jokes, of course. The classes are different, obviously, but everyone just kind of is who they are and whatever thing makes them that class is there, but if you sorted them into three rooms, you'd only kind of be able to pick out which room was whose by how many Hunters you can still see and exactly what kinda fighting was happening."

"We have these jokes. Weapons preferences are said to indicate personalities."

"We have that one, too, but they also lean into classes."

"One at a time, then. Titans."

"Titans! Zavala, Freija, Saint -14, Shaxx, and Saladin are all Titans you'll have encountered. The stereotypes are things like being tough and strong, and... Stupid. The jokes go back a long way, but really it just comes down to how direct they are. Brute force has a bad reputation."

"Hmph!"

"Known for the shields, charging in, and holding the line. There's a bunch of "types" we like to joke about, but it all comes down to those basics. Bad stereotypes include the stupid, but there's also short tempered, impatient, and aggressive. They do grow out of it, Zavala and Saladin both did. Freija's had maybe half a percent of their lifetimes. Half of a half."

"What are the Saint-14's Titanic qualities?"

"Protective. Brave. Tough. Strong."

"Hmph. Commander Zavala's?"

"Pretty much the same, the 'type' pretty well matures to that point, it's just a matter of where the rest of the stone is sculpted and with what."

"I like this metaphor.

"Well, Saint once spent... Oh, I want to say five hundred years fighting Vex so he could be reunited with his husband. So, if that gives you the kind of extreme I mean when I say tough. They'll take it and keep going."

"Hmph! What are Valus Forge's Titanic qualities?"

"Noble. Strong. Passionate, if you know what you're looking at. Pride. And I mean that in the good and bad way. Back when he was really young, he told a Hunter to throw him headfirst into a fight because he needed to get there faster than he would otherwise, that was Titanic."

"...."

"What?"

"...."

"What?!"

"I will never again look upon Valus Forge without that thought coming to mind."

~

"Tell me more about these Warlocks."

"Alright, Warlocks are the floaty ones. Ikora is one, and most of the other ones... Oh wow, okay, so most of the famous Warlocks I know are really bad examples of Guardians. About half were bad people."

"This does not, in any way, please me to hear."

"Nope! Okay, so, Ikora is and Osiris used to be, and Warlocks are "the smart ones", except some of them take the smart right on over to testing reality and forcing dimensional shifts and overall messing with stuff that has turned at least two of them that I know about right now into conscious non-human, non-physical entities that may or may not be even more immortal than usual and is definitely crossing some interdimensional lines."

"Your Eris was a Warlock?"

"No, actually, she's a Hunter who had access to the journal of one of the previously mentioned mad ones. And extremely bad luck."

"Hmph."

"But those are extremes. Your average one, Tower-dweller with virtually no real armor, they aren't like that. They're rumored to be lofty, dreamy, spacey, arrogant and uptight, dry, kill-joys, nerdy, chaste..."

"I cannot relate this to anything with which I am familiar."

"Scholars and scribes?"

"Vaalra. Bookish. Dry is a good word."

"Yes!"

"Ours were also warriors."

"So are the Warlocks."

"How much of their work is dedicated to technology?"

"Depends on the warlock."

"Ours are largely dedicated to history and technology."

"Ours can be technology, biology, history, math, chemistry..."

"These things are technology."

"I think that depends on if you use it to make stuff or just break it down to see how it works."

"Accepted distinction. Do the Warlocks have expected roles in combat?"

"Well, no? But yes? The stereotype is healer or other support. In truth, they have better capabilities with their Light in general, are better at calling on it and using it to greater effect, and this allows for deeper digging, but in a bunch of nichier things. So they can do anything really well if they push hard enough into it. The good ones in crucible are scary. Lightning fast, they'll skate right over your head with a fusion rifle, it'll take out our barricade and an ally with us. Fast and aggressive front line, cover fire from the back, healers and buffs in the heat, they can be real beasts."

"Can be?"

"Warlocks are born-- reborn-- at a distinct disadvantage with their power being so pressed into learning most effective use-- there's no backup, no substitute. Weapons work the same, but while a Titan can hold off the damage long enough to recover and Hunter can disengage, Warlocks need to be either preemptive or at least very good at planning ahead. Young ones die a lot. You have to get better at a fifty degree incline and hopefully you'll have a decent team to get you up on the way. Or at least this is what I've heard. So they're known to be the brains, for better and worse. Also clumsy, sometimes, because they're supposed to be graceful in the air, but landings and ledges can be rough. Bad shots which isn't true at all and in fact the solar ones can fly and shoot, I don't know where that came from."

"Do you know any?"

"Two are familiar-familiar, one is Freija's roommate, but he's a writer, a scribe. He's too busy wishing he was a Titan to be a Warlock. He's where I got most of that moping. They have a second warlock who is... Weird. She'll love this strand stuff, but she's kinda been on this kick with this thing we learned with Savathun and that mess. She's weird. That's another Warlock thing, actually, if you meet a particularly weird Guardian, odds are high that it's a warlock. They just kinda seem to be off in their own world. She's not bad. Her Ghost is also weird in a completely different way."

"Is Ikora 'weird'?"

"Ikora has written entire books, plural about circles."

"..."

"She's also why Shaxx is missing a horn, so."

"She bested the host of the crucible in the crucible?"

"With a shotgun."

"Hmph!"

~

"Hunters are...?"

"You remember the sneaky or the sharp? Those are both Hunter stereotypes. Personality tends to be lumped toward bastardly and conniving and dark and brooding. They're rumored to be mean loners, and I have no idea why because they're the most pack-like of the bunch. You'll find little spots around the tower where they'll leave a sleeping bag and ammo laying around on a bottom shelf in storage, and if you look for more than five seconds, you'll find a second sleeping bag shoved somewhere. They're social the way Saladin is passionate-- there's plenty if you know what you're looking for. Hang around you if they like you, give you things, show you their dens. It's sweet."

"Hmph. Crow is a Hunter."

"Crow is a sad wet mop, but yes, he is also a Hunter. I think that one falls under Brooding. You might have encountered Shaw Han but not likely. Ana Bray, I dunno if you've met her, they're the other end of Hunter."

"What unites them?"

"This thing where there's only something like respect for power structure and rules. Shaw is one of the sweetest guys, but if you wanted someone who will violate orders to do 'the right thing', he would beat Saint to the door, fire in hand. Ana, too, her entire saga was one disobedience after another, from the moment she was reborn."

"Hmmmmm."

".... Yeah, sorry."

"Mmph."

"I didn't think about it before I said it."

"Hm."

"Do you want me to go?"

"If you fly any lower, you will land."

"Still sorry."

"How does the vanguard manage the Hunters?"

"Uhhh..."

"I expected nothing less."

"Honestly, they kind of manage themselves? They're loyal friends so they'll follow fireteams and that's a good wrangling method, it keeps them in the loop and lets them pick and choose jobs same as the rest of us. The vanguard wasn't much better when they had one. None of the vanguards, before they died. Not knowing when to run is a Guardian thing, not a Hunter thing."

"Hmph."

Chapter Text

"You mentioned fireteams, last conversation. This is a cadre of... Five? Six?"

"Six. Or three."

"Is there a composition that is preselected or is it self-selected?"

"Okay, so this is complicated. A little. Okay. Um. Okay, so, there's fireteams of three and six, usually. Self-selected most of the time, there's Guardians that need their friends and some that would rather have their lungs ripped out than talk to anyone-- but so, there are three or six, and the composition is kinda random, but there's jokes about them no matter what the composition is."

"I am dying to hear this."

"...I want to tell you that fireteams actually have defined things, but the more I try to figure out how to tell you, the more I consider just coming up with a " friend dynamic" chart and drawing strings across and detailing that."

"I presume you have your 'full-wit leader who eventually is wrapped into her half-wit friends' foolishness' and at least three variations of half-wit to accompany her."

"Yep!

"Fools who somehow did the wrong job remarkably well but failed at their assignment?"

"Oh yeah."

"Zavala has done well not to complain about this job and its haphazard recruitment process, but his struggles are plain."

Chapter Text

"Sunny."

"Caiatl."

"What can you tell me about this... Gambit."

"Nothing good. For starters, the guy that runs it lives in the basement because he likes it there. And it's actually worse where he is than everywhere else. And got that way because of him."

"And the vanguard...."

"My guess is they're keeping an eye on him. He has a handle on technology that would probably have your scientists drooling, and he's got access to a whole extra trove of information about the Light and Darkness and the Taken and the ascendent plane."

"Psions do not drool, but I take your meaning."

"He's really not... Bad. But he is on his own side. Three and her Ghost Ghost know him better than us, and she says no one should trust him farther than they can throw him because that's about as far a headstart you can get once you throw him. Or something like that, it was implied that he can be trusted until you cross him but once you cross him, you're doomed."

"Is this not a typical behavior for Guardians?"

"..."

Chapter Text

"Does this shared connection involve sensation?"

"Umm... If you're asking what I think you're asking, yes? I can feel the connection, kind of like I guess what wearing a hat would be like? Where you know it's there but you don't really notice it?"

"Can you feel pain?"

"Yes."

"Hers?"

"Not the way I think you mean."

"Can she feel yours?"

"No, but we can feel when the Hive Relics hit the other one."

"Oh?"

"They're. Cold. On the inside, in a way I don't know if I could explain. The parts of us we share between each other, those get cold."

"...."

"I'm sorry I keep doing that, I'm never sure how to explain it."

"I cannot expect someone without a head to tell me what their tusks feel."

"That's very gracious, but I still think I could be doing better, or someone else would be better at explaining than me. I've thought about bringing a friend to meet you, or asking about it, but I'm never sure how to bring it up."

"Was that an intentional effort?"

"... No, actually, I just forgot myself. Again."

"I am curious, but I would not like this."

"Needs the formal step between?"

"I'm not sure of your meaning."

"When I came up, I had an offer to make. It gave our talks a good way to start, and then the formality could fall off. That was only somewhat intentional-- I wanted to make the offer, and I hoped it would work like that."

"... I feel manipulated."

"You knew it, though! That's how you and Zavala got close, isn't it? Business became companionship? But anyway, you don't seem to like the bridging thing beyond introductions, you like to deal with people and not intermediaries."

"Unless I want information I cannot glean on my own."

"Yeah! So, yeah, I figured my offer to introduce someone else would fall flat. I don't know any unpaired Ghosts that aren't on the hunt right now anyway."

"Unpaired?"

"No Guardians. I'm getting an unequivocal message that you don't like dealing with both Guardian and Ghost, and I figure that would be the best way to eliminate that discomfort. You won't have to worry about encountering their Guardian, and they'll have a completely different sense of things than me. I forgot a lot of what's different."

"You hear the message well. I can deal with your Freija impersonally, but I have no interest otherwise, similarly with Zavala and his Ghost. Valus Forge seems to prefer his kept away, and he seems to share my inclination."

"Don't want us to talk about you?"

"...."

"Oh. Sorry to be presumptuous. I don't mean it in the way like--"

"I would need to hold audience with both at once to feel my attentions were properly divided, and while I would indeed prefer to keep my discussions private, I expect you would as well. Your commentary regarding your Guardian is mostly apologetic for her behavior."

".... Yeah, well, the world has been killing her repeatedly her whole life and she acts like it, so I feel like I need to."

"Therefore, I do not expect you to relay the conversation. Anymore. I once did, before I recognized the many separations between you and your Guardian."

"Huh?"

"I have come to see that you are both the same unit and two separate identities. I daresay necessarily complementary. Your Freija is forceful and strong and... Driven while you are kind and gentle and guiding. Without her, you are vulnerable and without you, she is... "

"Feral is coming to mind, but really it's just that she's immature. I think without me, if she survived, she'd grow out of it."

"She would not survive."

"Oh I know."

"..."

"Anyway! I'll tell Rex. He's an asshole, he loves hearing the theories, especially when they line up with his."

"You have mentioned this name before."

"We're... Rivals? Intellectually? We have the same friends group and if you sat us down and asked, we would both call the other smart and annoying. I'm wrong more than I'm right, I'll be honest, but that's because I talk a lot without thinking."

"I have noticed this."

"..."

"You have mentioned this name before."

"Oh! So, Rex found his Guardian... Four hundred years ago? And the poor Guardian has been having an identity crisis the whole time. And Rex hates it. So Rex is a fixture in the Ramen Shop den and the Guardian spends a lot of time in the labs in the Tower with his girlfriend and writing. He does fiction for fun, but he's actually making a living off essays he co-writes with said girlfriend."

"What is this identity crisis?"

"He thinks he should be a Titan."

"...."

"I know! That was one of the times I was wrong, I still hate it, but I was being stupid. I thought they could change, and that we told them what they were and taught them how to be what they are. I didn't know it came as naturally them as resurrection does to us. Freija was a Titan the moment she breathed anew. And poor Thomas is a Warlock, like it or not."

"...."

"Right?!"

"...."

"I bet a song on it, that if I didn't tell my Guardian about the classes, that she would come up with her own thing. And of course the third thing she taught herself was her barricade."

"The shield?"

"Yeah. It's a Titan thing. Not all of them can do it, but all of them can learn to do it, and the others can't. They usually can't teach their things to each other, and the times they can cross over, it's always different.

"And this one feels he is the wrong one?"

"Yep."

Chapter Text

"Guardians cannot reproduce?"

"No."

"They adopt?"

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

"I dunno. They're people."

"And the Ghosts of these Guardians?"

"It depends on the Ghost, but all of us that I know about stick with our Guardians."

"These stories cannot end well."

"If they did, it wouldn't be called an ending. As a rule."

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long has it ever lasted?"

"I think I heard a story about one that got to meet a grandchild, but that just makes the rest of the story worse."

Chapter Text

"What is 'loot'?"

"What do you mean?"

"I hear the word frequently applied to a wide variety of items and locations inconsistently. I first considered it to be spoils of war, but a pile of rubble has garnered the cry. I considered it to be supplies, but what will be discarded is also unpredictable, with Guardians discarding or dismantling pieces with little thought."

"You're not far off from the spoils thing. Obviously, Earth is in shambles. Everything you've seen at the Tower is everything we know about that's not ruins and wildlife. Obviously, as big as the world is, we are far from the only ones around, and there are Ghosts who didn't hear about the Vanguard, didn't like the Vanguard or the idea of it, and probably even some that still haven't heard of it-- so to say we're the only survivors is silly -- sorry. So, as I said, Earth is a mess and the Tower is probably the only and definitely the biggest real built up civilization on this landmass. The ruins are everywhere. And in these ruins are supplies. Loot."

"This does not quite explain the reason for my question. Continue."

"Okay... So, what counts does just vary, usually on the Guardian, but also on the number of Guardians-- what can and can't be hauled around, gotten loose, or otherwise properly excavated for transmat.

"Accessibility is a defining qualifier?"

"Hey, you put that way better than me! Okay, yes. After you determine if it's loot by matter of acquisition, you then judge and determine if it will be useful. Yes, it is still loot. No, then no longer loot."

"Useful items to recover or that have been recovered. Very well."

"Supplies for the Tower are called loot, without regards to much besides accessibility, but that's because Guardians don't really care. Scrap metals, good wires, electronics, what can't be recovered can be broken down. But weapons and armor-- those are important to the Guardians, and therefore they start as loot by default and stop being loot the moment they don't like it. Collecting all of them is not feasible, and several of the guns salvaged go right to the Tower-- you'll see them go for delivery. The stuff the Guardians keep to examine are usually odd finds, and a lot of them can't be handled by our human soldiers, or just plain won't work for them because it was made for Guardians. I forget, but Freija let a human hold her helmet and its weight caught him so off guard that he almost fell. It's not heavy but it's only one piece and small at that. Armor is picky enough, but weapons.... Preferences between the modifications, models, types--if the measurements were a matrix, each Guardian has very narrow, selective ranges within. These start wide and get narrow with experience-- Freija's first handgun had the worst kick, but she couldn't tell the difference until she found one far better. But she likes kick, too, so the ones that fire too smooth, she complains don't feel like anything. But she wouldn't tolerate that much kick from a scout rifle, which she measures more by how hard it is to aim."

"I think the context was the information I needed-- it is easy to dismiss the state of the rest of the planet in the face of your Tower, without spending time to look. I expect my soldiers will learn more than I."

"There's exploration going on, but the Vanguard is busy being a fortress. Even without the Eliksni and the Red Legion and whoever else, Earth is harsh."

"I think it is a mistake to gather everyone in one place."

"There's already the EDZ. It's growing beautifully. I'm sure more will grow. Humans are a pretty insistent species."

"Hmph."

Chapter Text

"Sunny."

"Caiatl! It's good to see you!"

"Sheer happenstance," she rumbled, lumbering up behind Freija and Sunny where they sat at an open table in the bazaar, watching a crucible feed.

"I'll be here for a while, this is beginning of yesterday," Freija told Sunny, barely glancing at the empress. "Empress," she said softly, bowing her head but not getting up.

"Your Guardian participates in the crucible?" Caiatl asked the Ghost as she hovered to join the Empress.

"Didn't I tell you?"

"Perhaps in passing." Caiatl lumbered into a darker hallway, out of the main corridors, and ventured a back way to the hangar. Her helm occasionally brushed the ceiling and her pauldrons allowed no passage. "Sheer happenstance brought you to my attention. You are fortunate."

"To have a friend that'll call to me when she sees me? I am," Sunny agreed, bouncing merrily. "I'm glad to see you, too. I hope it's not bad news that brings you to the tower?"

"It is the event," she explained shortly. "Valus Forge regards this ritual as deeply important. I accompanied him to investigate. I like this celebration, so far."

Sunny bobbed merrily around Caiatl's winged helm, pleased.

"How are you recovering from your... malady?"

"I'm doing better. Listening to Freija giggle after being blown up is helping. She's always enjoyed the Iron Banner, and I didn't have the heart to tell her no."

Caiatl snorted a laugh. "Would I find her identifiable amongst the many matches?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I mean, she's a little odd, there's a lot of times where she'll just stand in her barricade and annoy people during Fortress, but I doubt she's the only one that does it. We had a real pretty white and red outfit with goat horns for most of it?"

"Nothing remarkable," she agreed.

"How's warfronts?"

"I much prefer my conversations with you to exclude the war fronts."

"Sorry. How's... things?"

Caiatl rumbled an irritated sigh.

Sunny sank to shoulder level. "Ah, so you actually did look for me, at least a little."

"I am fortunate," she agreed. "I worried you and your Guardian would still have withdrawn."

"I'm well-loved and well supported," Sunny promised. "Sometimes against my will. Do you want to hear about my digging into my Guardian's history? Only you can't tell anyone. Freija doesn't know much, and she's actually mad at me for what she does know, so we're kind of dancing around the rules a little bit."

"What have you learned?"

"Well, she was born on Earth in the Tower, but from what I can glean, she spent more days on the road than inside. Her parents were from the Dreaming City, and they wanted to help."

"This is fairly recent, considering the timeline of your existence."

Sunny dropped two feet. "Eight hundred and fifty years, I searched for someone that hadn't been born yet!"

"Depending on your method, the nine hundred years would have been inevitable. She died young for Awoken."

Sunny dropped a few inches and hovered in a circle. "Assassinated along with most everyone else that didn't marry out of the family."

"Interesting. Royals?"

"Nah. Politics, though."

"Hmph!" She didn't ask further, giving Sunny a side-eye.

It had been so long that she forgot the cue. "Oh! Her parents are the ones I've found stuff about. They eloped and came to Earth to help the humans here. Established routes around the Tower's base, some cartography. It's been... fun, but my research is about to get me into trouble, I think."

"Hmph! Your disregard for boundaries and authority likely lend to this."

"Likely," Sunny agreed sheepishly, swaying low. "I kinda wanna look around on Earth, but I think that might be too close to home. Found out Petra had a crush on her dad, that was funny to think about. Found out that she-- okay, so you know how I told you Guardians all hate water? And drowning? I'm not entirely wrong, but I didn't realize that Freija's is way more pronounced than average. First- most Guardians don't like swimming, but the helmets can keep them from drowning up to impressive depths, so the fear of water isn't nearly as common as I thought. We never had occasion to get into water deeper than her shoulders, but she really, really hates water. Or any other liquid deep enough to swim in, where she can't touch the ground anymore."

Caiatl rumbled a laugh. "Oh?"

"I don't want to talk too much about her, 'cos I don't want her mad at me for snitching, but she is terrified of swimming. She says it's because she can't swim, but she can, but she doesn't believe me!"

"Swimming is not an activity for panicked minds," Caiatl stated, giving Sunny another sideways look. Even under the helm, she managed to make the expression chastising.

"She won't try!"

"She needs not," Caiatl rumbled.

"Are you defending her?" asked Sunny, bobbing to see Caiatl's face. "Are you really-- isn't your species aquatic? How can you see reason in hydrophobia?!"

Caiatl narrowed her eyes at Sunny and shifted her weight heavily from side to side. "I do not understand your Guardian's fear, but I see no reason to force oneself through facing one if they need not. Is there occasion for swimming?"

"Probably not, now that we're done on Titan."

"She could force herself through the situation without truly overcoming the fear?"

"I guess, if you count those fits as pushing through. The missions got done."

"Then I stand firm on my position."

Sunny froze, considering the notion.

"You were telling me about the history of your Guardian?" Caiatl reminded her, stumping firmly onward.

"She had a dream! It's happened twice, where she's dreamed pieces of memory! It's fascinating, but I can't talk to anyone about it cos I'm already breaking the rules. But so she had a dream where she--well, her previous sister-- almost drowned. And I think that's led to a phobia in this life."

"That is indeed interesting. I forget to consider a Guardian's first life. The Guardians seem content to act similarly, as we have discussed. What inspired you to break these rules?"

"You, kinda."

Caiatl's pace faltered and Sunny felt the eyes digging into her. "How so?"

Sunny giggled. "When you asked me about the Guardians' memories of their first lives, the first thing you said was that remembering only the last ten years would be an unpleasant lifetime. So I wanted Freija to have a life that didn't have war. But like you also said, there's no such thing. So I wanted to know who.... Honestly, Freija keeps calling herself and Sarah as different people, but from this angle, I'm not sure I didn't just wake up and rename Sarah. But I wanted to know her first life."

"Have you satisfied this urge?"

"I'm getting more and more sure that I'll never be able to," she admitted with an exasperated drop. "I know more about her parents than her. I want the dreams to keep up but she hates them."

Caiatl didn't answer, lumbering ahead silently as she contemplated the middle distance.

"What?"

"Periodically, Sunny, Ghost of Freija, you show a dark side. I enjoy it greatly."

"What?!"

"Wishing nightmares upon your Guardian to answer questions," she chortled. "The desire to remove a phobia unnecessarily."

Sunny bounced to and fro in frustration. "It wasn't unnecessary! It is now, but every time we went down there, she kept panicking! And it wasn't even swimming! It was just moving through a liquid! She swears it's a fear of drowning, but her helmet keeps liquid out! And she kept screaming and throwing fits! She was doing so well with her behavior before the methane!"

Caiatl rocked her weight back, amused smile in her posture. "You expect much. If rationality could solve it, she would not have the fear at all. Completing the mission in spite of abject terror is admirable."

Caiatl opened the Hangar door, revealing Zavala and two Guardians at the doorway, with two Cabal soldiers sheepishly peeking around behind them.

"I stole the empress away!" Sunny sang, surprised to see the waiting entourage. "Sorry!"

"Good afternoon, Sunny," Zavala called cheerfully. "The empress made clear her intention to speak with a friend privately."

Sunny froze in the air and Caiatl chortled. "I appreciate the effort," she rumbled, taking her place between her guards.

Zavala smirked wryly at the Ghost. "I do not, and I am taking note of your willingness to lie for a friend." Sunny drooped, but his smile warmed up again. "I expect to see you and your Guardian lighting the pyres with the rest of us."

"Yessir!" Sunny chirped, flying in a big loop on her way back to Freija at higher speeds than should have been reasonable.

Chapter Text

"Is there an explanation for this?"

"It's like the dancing thing, a social activity, only instead it's "airplane rides". Humans lift their children like this to play with them, so the guardians doing it are playing, too. I don't think it's their age, but it could well be. It could also be a pleasant feeling. I'm sure he'd give you an airplane ride if you asked. He might want one in return, though."

"Hmph!"

Chapter Text

"Sunny."

"Empress! Good to hear you! I was hoping we would happen here together! I didn't expect you to reach out like this, though."

"You are currently active?"

"I mean, that's a come and go thing, but we're wandering in hostile territory for the specific purpose of eliminating enemy combatants and disrupting logistical framework, so.... yes. Is the commlink good enough or do you want to do face to eye later?"

"Is your Guardian listening?"

"Yeah, you hit her frequency. I can tune?"

"I would like to ask you both. She is not obligated to answer. When you say 'soulmate', and when the Guardian called you her soul, what do you mean?"

"Ha, I forgot you said that. You'll have to explain that one."

".... Is this really the stuff you guys talk about? Sunny taught me the word. She explained it as a part of yourself that is the core of you, and it's kinda what makes you you? And it keeps you alive in a way?"

"I'm not always good at explaining things and Freija's not great with words."

"Shut up. The way I think of it, if you could see it, it would look like the glowing thing that the Tormentor chests do when you break their armor. The part of her in me glows, kinda?"

"..."

"Do I need to help...?"

"I understood. You and your Guardian both communicate effectively, but not in ways one would expect."

"You understood that?"

"As well as I ever understand you. Do soulmates share a single soul?"

"Depends on where you read it. I think of them like separate things meant to fit together."

"Does one die without a soul?"

"That depends on where you read about it."

"Guardians do not die with their Ghosts."

"--They do not, no."

"--Part of us does."

"Hmph! I expected conflicting answers eventually. Guardian, why do you say that?"

"I don't know, exactly, but you couldn't convince me otherwise. Are you about to ask about killing her? I need to not be in combat if that's where this is going."

"... It wasn't, but I now have more questions. For you."

".... Shit."

"Pardon her. Really though, how far are you going to push, because she's been okay, but it's an easy line to cross."

"Not far. Do either of you know any stories of Guardians killing their Ghosts?"

"Uh. I can think of one who did it, but-- I've mentioned him before, he's one of the absolutely insane-but-genius Warlocks who doesn't have a body anymore. The last we heard from the Ghost, he died with a sense of triumph because of what his Guardian was becoming. Oh, and Wilhelm-7, driven mad by greed, killed his companions and their Ghosts one by one until he killed his own and himself by way of an infection. He died screaming into his comm about his treasure being all his."

"The other one on the moon that got taken over by the Death Song or whatever."

".... It's always madness?"

"Technically, also religion and mind control, but that depends on where you want to draw lines in this language."

"What has killed the Ghosts without the Guardians? I would think the Guardian would die first."

"Pretty sure they wish they did."

"Brya and Sagira, Ghosts of Eris and Osiris, sacrificed themselves to save their Guardians."

"... This disturbs me to hear."

"It disturbs us all, promise."

"You are empathetic to other Guardians? A Guardian whose tie, relationship, or bond is... incomplete causes vicarious discomfort?"

"If you mean I feel sorry for them losing their Ghosts, yeah? Hearing about it makes me sad for them?"

"I think she means the part where you imagine it happening to you when you hear about it."

"Don't we all?"

"Yes, my dear Titan, that's what she was asking, if you do that."

"..."

"I swear I'm not always stupid, there's just a lot of Vex popping up and my smart only shows when I'm bouncing grenades and picking up patterns."

"Forgiven. Are there any surviving Guardians that killed their own Ghosts?"

"Not that I know of."

"'kay, I'm safe. Ish. What'd you wanna ask."

"What would you do if you had succeeded?"

"What? After--what, if I--uh--killed her, what would happen to me?"

"I have seen what happens when a Guardian's connection to the Light is closed off. What action would you, Guardian Freija, take after the deed was done and your body recovered from the loss of Light? You need not answer if the question is too difficult."

"Not this one, not yet. I'd finish myself off. No fucking way-- "Language!"-- sorry. I couldn't shoot Sunny and live. I would need more help than anyone could give me. I had nightmares about the attempt. I felt sick forever, and she was there to get me through it. I don't even know if I would have the mind left to end me on purpose, I'd probably go full on, can't remember what the world looks like kind of crazy. Start talking to a Sunny that didn't exist, and hop out a window before I remembered that she couldn't get me up after I landed. The only exception I can think of-- if she traded herself for me, because I would feel I owed it to her."

"We often underestimate our capacity to survive catastrophic events."

"Losing her? Maybe. Killing her? No. I really can't. It's all different ways to die within a year. Accidentally or intentionally. Poison myself to cope until I overdid it, fail to learn to live without immortality, I don't even really want to think about her empty shell, I'm not even trying to imagine actual. Uh. Fufff. I'm remembering a nightmare, I can't keep going."

"It was just a nightmare. You're okay. So am I. We're okay."

"....fucking glittery snow..."

"Should I tune her out of further discussion?"

"We can get somewhere safe if we need to. I'll mute us if necessary. She can, too, okay?"

"I'll be fine, gimme a minute, it's not as bad as it used to be."

"Of the Guardians who have lost their Ghosts, or otherwise become Lightless, how many survived for any length of time?"

"Eris for a long time, over fifty years? And might have hit a time fold at least once, so maybe longer? Osiris only a few years."

"Do they age?"

"I don't know."

"I have another question for the Guardian. Freija."

"If it's about killing Sunny, I can't answer."

"Would you execute a Guardian that killed their own Ghost?"

"... How did I meet this person?"

"Perhaps I should ask instead, how would you respond to someone you know killed their own Ghost?"

"I mean. If I was sitting at lunch and I found out someone at the next table did that.... I would ... Do I have proof or certainty? Are they acting weird?"

"You would respond with suspicion, but not hostility? Is this hypothetical too difficult?"

"She's just not good at hypotheticals."

"Feels like I would be afraid of someone like that even if I couldn't tell why. They'd either show it and I'd feel sorry for them, or they wouldn't and... There's something deep wrong with both of those."

"How common is this line of belief? That something would be wrong with the person?"

"Dunno about common, but if I met anyone that didn't hold it, I would be just as suspicious of them as the one that killed theirs. The one that killed theirs might have had a reason, and they're probably fucked up over it. I'd pity someone like that. But not feeling like it's fucked up is--"Freija!" I'm sorry, Empress."

"I relax formality for these interviews. I will grant you the same excuse for now. So the motivation is more important than the action?"

"Doing it because you know you have to isn't the same as approving of the action."

"I see. Do you believe anyone else could have followed through with the order?"

"I don't know anyone that could, but that doesn't mean no one would surprise me."

"Both Commander Zavala and Sunny have expressed the belief that no one could have."

"I don't know about no one, but no one that could have done it would have been in the fight with Calus."

"That is also a sentiment expressed by Commander Zavala. They would not have been safe to ask."

"Yeah, that tracks, seeing as both Toland and Wilhelm killed their own teammates."

"...."

"He meant that very literally."

"Could you kill a different Ghost? Not Sunny?"

"What? No!"

"If the Ghost at the Vortex had not been Sunny, could you have followed through with your command?"

"... That's a fucked up question... I... don't know. I was ashamed of myself for refusing to shoot Sunny, I can't imagine how I'd forgive myself without that attachment... But... I don't want to be the kind of person that could, but I think I would, because I could turn off the thing that tells me not to shoot people if it wasn't Sunny. But I don't think I could live with myself for a long time after, because I'd remember whatever Guardian and doing one of the worst things I can think of to them when they were doing the best they could. If it was me and someone else killed Sunny, I'd probably ask to die. That's a fucked up thing to do."

"You slay the Hive Ghosts."

"Never in front of their living Lightbearer. Also I quit doing that as much as I could. It's fucked up."

"It is less taboo to kill a Ghost than to kill one in front of their living Guardian?"

"It's just as taboo, but... You know, I know you know, hurting someone you love hurts more than when they hurt you, doesn't it?"

"In senses. The helplessness is a pain of its own."

"See? You... I don't think you get it, it's like if your-- you know what, your dad is Calus, I totally get why you don't get it. She's been with me this entire life, and as far as I care, it's my whole life. She's loved me since before my parents were born, she's taught me everything--""Not your barricade.""--and every time I'm in pain, she heals it and when I wake up, I can call her name and she answers, even if she's a million clicks away. And that's just what she does for me, that's not getting into how much of the just little things I would miss-- I can't talk about it."

"She won't tell anyone if you cry. We started talking so she could understand us better."

"Who could she tell, Saladin? She didn't ask. I'm ranting."

"If you please."

"Fuck. Look. It's. It's not just. Huge pieces of my life would be missing.... Huge pieces of me would be missing. And all of those ignore the part where I love her more than anything. I'm lucky to have that part, not all of us do. Killing a Guardian by killing them and their Ghost is killing us, but killing just the Ghost is sadistic. Making it to where the Guardian can't be resurrected by the Ghost is sadistic to the Ghost, and I say that knowing what we're doing to Immaru. I would probably kill the Guardian first just to be merciful. And safe, so they didn't kill me. Cos I would permadeath someone for Sunny, all guilt off the table. Separating us forcibly is fucked up."

"Hm. The ruthlessness of Guardians would have me believe this has been used against one another."

"The Dark Age was pretty Dark. Glad I missed it. Shit, we still do it, like I said, Immaru."

"Indeed. I have learned much this conversation. I may ask more from you later. There is no obligation. I appreciate your being forthcoming."

"Yeah, sure."

"Freija!"

"You're welcome, Empress."

"You found these questions difficult?"

"I don't like thinking about that day. It's not so bad now, I don't do the thing where I forget where I am anymore, but... Yeah. Difficult. I've got Shadow Legion to blow up, I'll be fine.

"I remember the previous condition. You are recovering well."

"... Thank you."

"I would appreciate your contact when free time is available, Sunny."

"Okay! Talk to you later!"

Chapter Text

"Empress! Would you like to select a frequency to call ours? It's a thing Ghosts do when we make friends, keep a low level scan on a channel to stay in contact."

"Perhaps pre-arranged events, consistency will be easily traced."

"Fair enough."

"Your Guardian held up well, today."

"Sorry about the swearing."

"I have been on the battlefield. I can think of only a few things she could say that I would find truly offensive."

"I know, but still."

"I doubt she learned any respect for authority from you."

".... Rude."

"Truth can be."

"Rude!"

"I did not expect the intensity with which your Guardian speaks of you..."

"...?"

"I apologized for ordering her to kill you. I now apologize for bringing harm to your Guardian in that act. I continue underestimating the effect of my actions."

"What?"

"I am sorry."

"Oh, that's not necessary. She's okay, and I know you didn't know. That's why we're friends, now!"

"I appreciate your willingness to come forth. Is this love between Guardian and Ghost typical? She mentioned luck, and that others do not, but also treated a similar bond as expected."

"Well. If there's a scale. And one was pure hate and ten was pure love, more than seventy percent are at least at a five, and twenty percent could be at an eight or higher. Me and Freija land in eight, comfy. Most of the time."

"Are there any ones?"

"Not that I know of."

"What would you say is the lowest number you've witnessed?"

"Rex and Thomas, easy, occilate between a three and a four."

"You have mentioned these before. I did not expect the empathy."

"Why not?"

"I did not think they would find commonality between each other and their bonds with their Ghosts. Each is individual, as you have stated. The constants seem limited to the resurrection. The connection is consistent?"

"From... Pair to pair? I think so? The same thing that calls us to them, I think, is that tie between us."

"You are more casual about this connection."

"I lived without her for a very long time. Having it is special to me but it's not as... Big, I guess? As it is for the Guardians. They never lived without us, so that connection is one of the biggest things in their lives. So empathizing with each other is also big."

"If the bond is similar, why are the relationships so different?"

"Why wouldn't they be? Your love at a seven on that scale looks different from mine. It probably even looks different for you depending on who you love!"

"Fair. Is the empathy common?"

"I think hers is intense but everyone that hears about a Ghost-Guardian separation where someone can't resurrect or be resurrected for whatever reason-- everyone that hears about it would flinch."

"Interesting. Tangentially, what is this mercy directed at the Hive Ghosts?"

"The Throne World-- since we're the invaders, she leaves them up when we visit. She'll kill the Lightbearer and run away. She decided to do that on her own."

"You Ghosts are quite valued. Almost revered. And yet they speak to you with so little respect."

"We're friends and I've seen her entrails; respect and dignity are both long gone."

"..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. I am merely pensive. This revelation has grown to a full dawning and yet I learn more still. Would you agree that killing one permanently without the other is sadistic?"

"Depends. Trying to save one because you can't save both? No. But doing it for the sake of it is. And it wouldn't surprise me to hear about suicidal ones."

"Have there been occasions where the Ghost could no longer resurrect their Guardians?"

"The Hive have some nasty stuff in their arsenals that can bypass our healing."

"Ah."

"Yeah, there's... It's ugly. We usually die without our Guardians. If something has killed them beyond our saving, we are likely somewhere dangerous to us and can't escape."

"Hm."

"What is it?"

"... I am again considering the mistake of my command."

"It's okay, really. You didn't know."

"My ignorance went without correction for quite some time. Why?"

"If you want me to guess-- cos that's all it is-- Commander Zavala didn't feel the need to correct you and no one else knows what happened. The few people Freija told never heard about you. Commander Zavala wouldn't have told anyone, either, to spare any possible consequences, even just personal or political ones. He didn't talk about it with Freija until I asked, too. I think it made him uncomfortable."

"Likely."

"What did he say to explain?"

"That neither he nor any other Guardian could have done it. I asked you shortly after."

"Oh yeah."

"... Would the other Guardians forgive this mistake?"

"... Ahh... Immediately? Ikora would, Eris would understand but probably be sick. Shaxx would try and so would Saint, but Saint and Geppetto are close, so they'd take a minute. Osiris.... I don't know, you'd have to ask him, I think he was busy being mad at Freija like you were. All of us understand you didn't know, there was no reason for you to."

"Is it hidden intentionally?"

"No, but there's no way to see it without following a single Guardian literally everywhere constantly."

"I feel foolish."

"I'm glad I got to help with that! I mean.... Um. "

"Ha!"

Chapter Text

"We just gonna do the radio chat thing?"

"True free time is hard to find for both of us, and I suspect you and your Ghost would prefer freedom to release any destructive impulses, to which you seem prone."

"She's gonna make me blush."

"Freija! It's good to hear from you, Empress."

"If it's social, you can tune me out, I'm fine with that."

"Do you wish to avoid answering further questions?"

"I'm not clever enough to lie like that."

"Hmph! I have only a few. Some are personal."

"Yeah?"

"What do you know about Ghosts?"

".... They're... Little metal drone.... People that used to be parts of the Traveler? Not much. They look for us and Raise us when they find the right one."

"What do you remember of your previous life?"

"I've had a couple nightmares that included memories from it, but nothing else."

"What is your first memory?"

"Sunny flying around my head at super speed making this funny burbling sound."

"I forgot I did that..."

"Hmph! How many deaths?"

"... Do you actually... I don't understand, do you want me to guess? Sunny might know. I couldn't even.... Just.... "

"A rough estimate will suffice. It will be an interesting equation to hear."

"I'm gonna... Eh ... Mm .... Can I just round to five thousand?"

"..."

"Did the connection die?"

"No, she does this, it's okay. Just wait."

"...You are four years old..."

"Yeah....?"

"Your years are short."

"Do you think my math is off or are you just not okay with the part where I die ten times a day on average? That is an average, sometimes I can go a whole week without dying, but there's crucible, where just playing around sees a good fifty or sixty in an afternoon. Getting Sunny her shell was maybe three hundred in three days, that's enough for six a week for a year all by itself."

"..."

"I don't get it, what's wrong?"

"Most people only die once, and most of them are scared to."

"Oh, right."

"....You no longer remember this fear."

"Technically, the one you're talking about, I never had to lose. I am scared to die, it's just that I don't consider death... I mean.... I can't say it different. I don't think of those deaths as death. Death to me is Final Death. Dark zones, Hive rot and Relic damage. My life is Sunny. It's really hard to talk, I've never had to answer questions like this."

"Why can't you ever be that sweet on purpose?"

"You do not give much thought to your nature of being."

"Not really. Just... Kinda am. Do wonder why, sometimes."

"Do the Ghosts appreciate being taken for granted?"

"Probably varies by Ghost. I... Do I take you for granted?"

"You take the resurrection for granted, but I've made sure that it was something you could never doubt, and you trust me, so I take great pride in the fact. You do not take your Light for granted."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, oh?"

"You've wondered what it would be like to have your Light cut off in just the last few months, and that's not an unusual question for you. You marveled at the Lightless after the nightmare. You even say that you couldn't live without it and you have never taken your fire for granted--you are always mindful and grateful and miss it when you try anything else."

"Is that what that means?"

"Yes, my dearest Titan."

"Hmph! What does being a Titan mean to you?"

"Uh? It means I make walls. And hammers."

"You were not incorrect when you called her simple."

"I know you mean that as a bad thing, but I'm just fine with being simple. If you ask right, most people say that's a real Titanic thing to be."

"You are proud to be a Titan?"

"I'll call it pride, yeah. Happy to be one, wouldn't be anything else if I had the option. Feel a sense of kinship with other Titans. Enjoy my role, holding the walls, drawing fire away from my teammates. Felt a sense of loss when I found out the Sunbreakers fell to the Red Legion."

"Is this a shared sentiment, this pride, between the three... Types?"

"I know a real specific Warlock where that's not true, but I have yet to meet a Hunter that isn't proud to be one. They all smile or smirk or grin or whatever when they say it, even the Exos."

"Hmph! Do you feel your Ghost has any influence on who you are when you awaken?"

"Nah, not by itself, but we learn everything from them, so we pick up stuff. We are who we are, though."

"And your... Type?"

"Class. Nah. Sunny had a thing where she didn't tell me what I was so I could do my own thing with my Light. She thought I'd make something up."

"You did. It's just that the thing you made up was already standard, which means you literally taught yourself a standard Titan Light spell on your first day of life."

"Shut up!"

"Why are you embarrassed?"

"Cos! You make it sound like something! It's my barricade!"

"You taught yourself how to do it. I'm proud of you."

"Not in front of the empress. You know what I mean."

"Do Ghosts regularly boast on behalf of their Guardians?"

"We boast about our Guardians on our own behalves. I still like showing off my shell."

"They bit-- complain, too, commiserate. Got little dens and nooks and a couple of full on clubhouse things like bigass cabinets, they go hide and talk shiiii..... Complain about how much we piss 'em off. Clouds of 'em when there's Tower events, like we can't hear them."

"...."

"You heard them, too!"

".... I did."

"You're laughing, aren't you."

"The complaints ranged from amusing to horrifying, and I found most humorous."

"Yeah? Sunny's big gripe is how inconvenient it is when I die in the middle of everything."

"I imagine this is because you should not be 'in the middle of everything.'"

"That's what I keep saying!"

"I'm between cover! Usually!"

"Or the barricade fell or you thought you'd be covered when you died...."

"See?"

"Are most Guardians aware of these... Gripes?"

"Depends. Sunny doesn't keep 'em secret and she's hoping one day I'll quit it, whatever it is. Rex is a jerk. Ghost doesn't really speak much."

"Hmph."

"I dunno what's going on with that one, it's weird even for a Ghost."

"Mm. I have a final, potentially invasive question. Either may answer, and both may refuse."

"Okay....?"

"In what ways can affection between Ghost and Guardian be expressed?"

"...."

"... Invasive is a word for that."

"You need not answer. I am merely curious."

"She's been listening to us bicker this whole time, I can see why it's a question."

"Don't tell her..."

"She doesn't even mean from you to me, she's making sure you're getting something out of this deal that isn't a shithead Guardian."

"Hmph!"

"See? I make things for her. A neat table thing, a shelf and a few stands, a collection of shells on a pretty nice display."

"Don't let her downplay the table, she designed it herself, ordered it to specs, then built it. It's.... Actually kind of silly, but it's for drawing. I told her I used to before I found her, and she made me the table to facilitate when we're at home. I didn't even ask for it, she found the idea and surprised me one day after work."

"...."

"Okay, look, I'm actually not stupid. I can bounce grenades 'cos I'm good at geometry, which also means I can build stuff. I sound stupid and I have a hard time with conversations sometimes."

"..."

"Isn't she the sweetest?"

"What? Why?"

"...."

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything!"

"What's going on?"

"The answer she got surpassed expectations, if she even had any. She probably thought we wouldn't tell her."

"Seriously? Like didn't expect an answer cos we didn't have one or because we'd get shy?"

"Probably a combination of both, and I'm not sure what she actually regards as affection, she's not human after all, so making things for someone else might be a really big deal to her."

"That's dumb. I kiss her, sometimes. Usually on the top shell flap. And she likes to be held in my hand or perched on nooks in my armor."

"...That answer, I expected."

"See? I get it. I really do want to do as much for her as she does for me, but it's a really high bar and I'm still flesh and blood, Lightbearer or not."

"Hmph! This may not be our final interview."

"You make it sound like a threat."

"...Perhaps."

"You're taking advantage of the informality, too aren't you?"

"Did you not say you were 'bad at conversations'?"

"It took me the whole time to figure it out when Sunny told me before we left that the informality was why I could get away with being me at you. I didn't think you'd be counting on that."

"Indeed. You told me much more than I could comfortably ask of any other contact in the Vanguard, and Valus Forge is not so forthcoming in answers to questions unrelated to warfare or philosophy. I appreciate the candor and the... Refreshing absence of protocol."

"She means that in a good way. Thank you, Empress! Did you want to catch up later?"

"Soon. I will reach out."

Chapter Text

"Your Guardian clearly learned much of her expression from you, but her youth leads to an earnestness I appreciate. The result has been enlightening, if overly.... Saturated?"

"Are you looking for a word that means "too much" in a way like too much of an intense flavor or bright color?"

"Indeed."

"Yeah. She's... A lot. And the sweetest! She doesn't even know what she said! I've been glowing all day."

"I am often puzzled by your use of this word. You lack the capacity for taste in addition to referring to behavior as having a flavor. Having seen what you refer to, I understand better. Is this a standard use of the word?"

"It has been. Language, you know."

"Indeed...."

"...?"

"..."

"???"

"I have been observing Guardians on the field more closely. As you say, to observe a Ghost and a Guardian would require constant surveillance, but I am granted a view of active Guardians regularly in situations where they depend heavily on their Ghosts. Where do you hide? During combat?"

"Depends on the Guardian. I stay in Freija's mark-- the belt. Most of us stay in backpacks and pockets, and a few of us know how to exist dematerialized or incorporate into helmets, but I can't do that."

"Hm."

"What is it?"

"I am wondering if this conversation would be better to have with your Guardian. I believe so. However, I ask you now-- Is it stressful?"

"What--fighting?"

"In a sense. You reported feelings of guilt, regarding your Guardian and taking part in combat. I understood you to pity your enemies, but the guilt regarding the harm your Guardian suffers escaped me. I understand, now."

"Oh, you got to see someone really get hurt and get healed up, huh."

"The horror of war is just that. I never before considered the horrors of healing."

"Those slurping noises are the worst, aren't they? After that, it's the wet noise when you're putting limbs back on and bones grinding when you're setting them. Especially ribs."

"How many teeth do humans have?"

"When?"

"..."

"Thirty-two, but there have been biological limitations and complications that prevent development or growth; and traditions of removal for medical and cosmetic purposes throughout history so it depends on when the Guardian lived and died first as well as natural factors."

"They are fragile."

"Yep."

"Mrph."

"Yeeeaahh..."

"She does not complain?"

"Occasionally. She says she's in shock most of the time and doesn't feel much."

"Do you worry she lies?"

"... Sometimes, but she's not great at hiding pain."

"You watch your Guardian suffer frequently."

"... yeah."

"You have seen her body in multiple states of damage."

"Do you have a point?"

"I understand your sense of humor."

"...."

"I often forget you are also warriors. Even the kindest amongst you."

"I'm hardly the kindest."

"And still the kindest will have been through just as much war. Possibly more, as you yourself have only recently engaged. What do you think she will say when I ask her about the times she has been wounded in battle?"

"That she doesn't remember them."

"I wonder if you are correct."

".... Me, too.

Chapter Text

"These will be more personal questions, and possibly upsetting."

"Oh-kay?"

"When you die, are you frightened?"

"... No. Haven't had a good reason to be. There's places where I would be, but I haven't been."

"Is it painful?"

"Sometimes. I'm pretty good about dying fast, so not often. Surviving to flee hurts, though. Poor Sunny'll about cry if I do it too much, pretty sure she'd rather repair a corpse than heal a bullet wound that didn't kill me. Don't really blame her, they get pretty ugly. Crucible was hard on both of us for a while, but I'm pretty good at running before my shields break, these days."

"Is there a preferred or most hated death?"

"Ummm. If I've just really gotta die -- I don't like it. Even if it's not painful or scary, it's inconvenient-- but if I've really gotta pick the best and worst, it's Drop Pods and getting sniped by psions."

"You flatter us. Why?"

"Drop Pods are so fast they feel more like teleporting than dying. Psion snipers-- there's a few others that do this, but the psions came to mind because of you, I guess-- but so, the ones with the right firepower, I guess they're LFRs , they open whatever they shoot on the first hit. Sometimes it'll take them two, but they bust shield and plate and hit flesh before I can even register I've been shot, too busy reeling and confused, much less can I tell where it came from. Opens my helmet, ruins my visual feed, fucks with my hearing; clears armor off a chunk, at the very least a deep bruise; cripples or takes off a limb. They never kill me outright, though, so it's only going to damage and hurt. A lot. If I move fast enough, can get my barricade up-- and I have to start that as soon as I hear the charge up, I can't wait 'til I've been hit--and they're gonna hit me while I'm doing it-- I can save my ass and Sunny can heal me up before I try to run. Odds are decent that they'll pop me again before I can escape or chase me out of cover and into their allies. Prefer they get me than allies."

"How visceral."

"What's that mean?"

"It means the way you're talking about it makes it easy to imagine."

"Oh. So, yeah, I hate those things. They take juuuuuust long enough to kill me to be particularly memorable, and they're some of the hardest to escape and kill back with any kind of plain reaction-- gotta aim, they usually have friends a lot closer, and just... Yeah."

"Are you ever frightened on the battlefield?"

"... Of what? Consequences of loss, sometimes? Stakes aren't always high, but they get that way."

"Does dying frequently affect your mood?"

"... I get pretty angry after a minute. I'm usually trying to get something done, some loot or clearing somewhere important to Vanguard or civilians, and having to start over or start and stop, any time I can't get a job done when I wanted to, I get. Uh. Mean. And angry."

"It's okay. By the time she's lashing out at me, she's throwing herself into death head first over and over and I can just listen to her scream without having to hit back."

"Oh-ho!"

"Did you just make her laugh?"

"Shh."

"Hmph! Are you concerned for the lives and physical well-being of your Guardian friends?"

"Yeah to an extent. Rise hates being shot. And she's better at helping me up than I am at helping her up, so it's better for her to live than me. It's generally best to keep as many alive and healthy as possible just for the backup."

"What would you say was the worst death you can recall?"

"Woof...."

"I think that one--"

"I'm fine. It bothers Sunny more than me, because of when it happened but I was weak and reloading and a pair of Taken Knights rushed me, screaming fire all over. My shields were hardly up in the first place so it sank in quick and took way too long to kill me. And my own fire made it worse, trying to save me."

"I take it this is the advent featuring the shell with whiskers?"

"Yep. Sank deep. Hurt. Worth it! It's perfect and there's at least ten shaders that fit her look and even more that just look good. You've seen the bouncing and bobbing, we should have named her Bunny. Only thing she really asked me for, and I got it."

"Hmph. Is this pride common in Guardians?"

"I dunno? Probably?"

"Do you feel fear at all?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure why, half the time? And I have a phobia that you will hear nothing more about."

"I already snitched. She defended you."

"I'm still not talking about it."

"Truly?"

"I-- no. Nope. Nope, don't wanna, even if I could, and I can't 'cos my mouth is doing a thing."

"Ha!"

"I know, right? What's it gonna do, kill me?"

"The methane would have."

"True. But nope. Just can't and don't wanna. How about you?"

"..."

"Sorry. Nerves."

"Forgiven. Do I frighten you?"

"Uh... I think the word is intimidating? Imposing? You being in a room makes me want to be smaller."

"I will accept this. Do you fear pain?"

"I mean... Yeah? Certain kinds and levels, I guess, getting shot hurts a lot, but I hardly think about that anymore? It's... No. I don't. I should and I don't. I didn't wanna tell you that but Sunny just 'matted out of my pocket to drive her little eyeball into my visual, and I'm pretty sure that shell is strong enough to beat some dents in."

"Your Ghost intimidates you?"

"I have to live with her. Whole other kind of damage, trauma, and fear."

"She says as though she's not the one that lashes out inappropriately."

"You knock stuff over when you're grumpy, and push stuff off the fridge."

"Freija!"

"You snitched on my thing!"

"Sunny has a temper?"

"Caiatl!"

"I'm not gonna tell you it's worse than mine, but when I piss her off, she punishes me by talking over my head, refusing to help in combat. When we're all but in love, she'll put a requested gun in my hands, but when she's mad at me, she'll put it on the ground nearby. Steps away nearby."

"Can't believe this..."

"Gives me the silent treatment and vague visual cues. The first one that goes is coordinates-- she makes me punch in my own autopilot settings and coordinates. First clue, a thing she does when she's upset and my first chance to apologize, she has a nook on the fridge she runs to. I don't blame her, I am an absolute ass sometimes."

"sometimes!"

"Do Ghosts often "punish" their Guardians?"

"Rex is fuckin' mean. Sorry."

"You also know this Rex."

"Him and his Guardian live with us. Or I live with them. They make me feel bad, won't even be in the same room most of the time, but they're not the worst. I've heard about a hundred year silence, before. One that left hers down, that's probably the worst. I've heard a lot but I don't know how true any of them are. Comfortable guessing the Ghost is at least sometimes in the right."

"Hmph! Would Sunny leave you 'down'?"

"I won't say no, but I will say that if she ever does, I trust that judgement. Whatever I've done, whatever's gone wrong, it'll be for the best."

"Hmph! This is enough. I thank you for your time and honesty, Guardian."

"You're welcome...?"

"Freija...."

"It feels weird to say!"

"Try!"

"She's laughing again, relax."

"She's laughing because she thinks it's funny that I have to beg you to stop being a smartass at the leader of a multigalactic militaristic empire that blows up suns and has the technology to disrupt us!"

"I'm a kinderguardian with a popgun on a private comm channel septillion clicks away. I've also happened to be around for some really shitty days in the last couple years. She doesn't have to hold stature and I'm powerless. She likes that part, that's why she gets to ask all the questions she isn't allowed to ask Zavala no matter how friendly they get."

"That doesn't mean you can be rude!"

"It still feels weird to say!"

"I would allow something more natural if that is what the Guardian would prefer."

"Don't encourage her!"

"Now who's mouthing off the Empress of a multigalactic legion? No problem! Happy to help."

Chapter Text

"This has been most enlightening."

"Really?"

"I would never know that a Guardian is best manipulated by befriending their Ghost without these talks. It is a shame I did not learn this when I could have made better use of the information."

"...."

"Access to the Ghosts is limited, however. You're each your own independent agent. Are there Ghosts who refuse to involve themselves with the Vanguard?"

"Probably? We can't really talk to each other without planning ahead for it to some degree. I'm certain that there are Ghosts who don't know, and some who don't like the Vanguard. The Hive ones..."

"Oh? What are your thoughts?"

"They're legitimate. True. From eyes like yours and Freija's other roommate, there's no reason to draw a line between them as Lightbearers. Humans have been wicked and mindless, too. Their Guardians have a bloody history. It's not nearly as different as I wanted them to be. I'm relieved Freija won't crush them anymore."

"Eyes like mine?"

"You see them from the outside, without observer's bias. Bloodthirsty. Violent. Simple. I'm... I'm not blind, but my bias paints a much prettier picture most of the time."

"I am developing this bias."

"Yeah. It's easy to find a Guardian to like and to hate. They grow up well, if they can hang on. Maybe Freija will grow some patience."

"I doubt this sincerely."

"Let me hope."

"The Hive Lightbearers?"

"Well... When we encountered them, I thought they were fake. I wanted them to be fake. Fynch.... Convinced me and changed my mind. I knew they were real and made their choice, but-- he said he heard the call. The song I heard, the spark the others find. And I believe him. And if the corpse I found on that cliffside that day was Hive, I would have done it."

"Oh?"

"Maybe not immediately, I would hesitate, but I don't know how long. Even if I tried to leave it, I'd come back. I'd come back even if I stopped hearing it just because I heard it before. I wouldn't have been able to stop myself after enough time."

"Hm."

"Yeah. I don't even remember the feeling, but just words are enough to remember how much I missed her and how strong the demand was to find her."

"You missed...?"

"Longing. Pining. I wanted this unknown entity that would be my Guardian to be with me so much. I say I mourned her when I couldn't find her, too. Her bones sang to me as I flew past and I searched for ages. She looked like so much rubble."

"Hm."

"Sorry. But if Fynch and any other Ghost felt that and what they found was Hive, I understand. Don't approve, but there are still some nasty humans I don't approve of, too, and it's not up to me."

"Hm."

"You've done that with three different inflections, now."

"My attitude toward the Witch Queen is... Precarious. As you say, from my eyes, the Ghosts have simply begun choosing deadlier puppets. Being able to see the complexity, I am not convinced it is not the Traveler instead."

"Yeah, I worry about that."

"Hm?"

"If we're pawns. Guardians and Ghosts."

"Does the answer change anything?"

"No. Which is why I'm still fighting."

Chapter Text

"You claim to feel pain."

"I do feel pain."

"You also have said numerous times that you don't mind being shot."

"I said I don't think much of it. I'm still gonna try not to. If I could get shot and just feel the pain without taking any physical damage, I would still try to not get shot. It sucks. I just... Don't let getting shot stop me, don't let the idea of it keep me out of places, so on and on. My shields and armor are strong, so it takes a few blasts to get through, most of the time I'm only gonna take some bruises and a little heat. There's this gap between running away and Sunny patching me up and my shields returning, that's when... Oof. Nothing left between me and a lead slug-- can I swear?"

"You may."

"Stop encouraging her!"

"I think to annoy our mutual friend, I may even challenge you to add as much vulgarity as possible."

"Light, noooooo..."

"I would fall real short of expectations, I just say fuck a lot."

"A pity. You will learn."

"Hope so! I was talking about getting shot directly-- Fuck that. It's like lava if lava used my hammers! You can feel it ripple through everything! And I'm still too tough to die right, so they have to do it twice, maybe hit my head properly. I hate that shit!"

"The damage to your body as your shields break is different, somehow?"

"It's like being beaten eighty percent of the way to death, and then the last twenty is gone pretty fast? Not that being beaten to death is great or anything, but the alternative is getting shot or burned."

"Have you ever considered attempting long term survival?"

".... Can I make a joke?"

"Please."

"I told you before, I've been alive for a whole week straight."

"Ha!"

"We've joked about it, but it's only jokes. I would get bored. Sunny would, too. Even if we quit fighting, I'd go do stuff that got me killed."

"Hmph! For instance?"

"She's crushed herself with falling debris because she moved the wrong support on multiple occasions."

"That. We've already decided we would try and clean up Earth and lay some global networking, and maybe mark off radiation zones, so on."

"Remind me to tell you why I love that idea later."

"Has there ever been an injury or death traumatic enough to stop you?"

"Probably... Delay. Never stop. Not yet."

"Your voice bears a distinct waver. Is Sunny threatening again?"

"Yes."

"Do not interfere."

"She keeps trying to lie when she feels her humanity being challenged."

"Oh? I wondered why someone practically unstoppable would claim otherwise."

"I... Have no idea what that even means. What?"

"I'll explain later. Stop giving the answers you think you're supposed to give."

"... 'kay. No, I haven't been so wounded that it got me to stop for more than a regroup. I have given up before, but I came back after I found a new weapon or armor piece or mod kit or whatever."

"Are there any particular injuries you can recall?"

"Ummm... You'll have to be more specific, it's all kinda flashes but nothing special."

"Are there sensations associated with healing?"

"It's usually--wait, by Sunny or just Light in general? I can heal with mine."

"Can you?"

".... You know, I was just fine telling you about dying on the field but for some reason, talking about my Light feels awkward?"

"Hm."

"Uh... So, I can heal myself because... Solar energy is generative, and the energy can be used to hasten growth."

"What are you quoting?"

"My roommate. He called Arc traveling and Void destructive, too. Parallels to subatomic shit. He loves these theories."

"Is he correct?"

"I couldn't tell you. It comes naturally. He has to overthink everything. My fire is warm to me and burns the shit out of everything else. I like my fire's heal, but it doesn't relieve pain like Sunny's. It's... warm."

"That's the only word she ever uses."

"I see."

".... I am really really trying here to come up with a way to do the analogy thing... Like my heart's on fire in the best way. Warm like your sleeping bag if you fold it right, like a hot bath on aches. I can feel stuff growing back, kinda, but more like the fire is filling in the gaps until the meat can come back."

"I see."

"Sunny's heals are cool. Ice compress, wading in cold water when it's hot, letting cool air under the blanket. It's. Dry....? Like a med hall?"

"Have you ever been in a medical ward?"

"Not for me, but they smell like nothing and it feels like anything I cut there wouldn't bleed."

"This is inaccurate, but I take what I imagine to be your meaning."

"Yeah. But so, it feels more like it's being cleaned and repaired. Numbed, stabilized, cleaned, and restored is what it feels like."

"Interesting. Do you have a preference?"

"...."

"Don't lie."

".... I wasn't gonna..."

"Stop lying, too."

"... The fire...."

"Why?"

"Dunno. It's warm."

"Hmph!"

Chapter Text

"So, what about the idea of wandering the world delighted you?"

"The cartography, the planning, and the networks are all things she's pulling from her previous life, either accidentally or subconsciously!"

"You are quite excited by this prospect."

"Isn't it fascinating?"

"Hmph."

"I can see why you wouldn't care but it's just so interesting to me when I get to see things like this, and getting to see it with my own Guardian is....!"

"... Your flight is faster than I expected."

"Freija said mach twelve the other day. It surprised me to hear her first memory. I don't know why I assumed it was my saying 'eyes up'."

"Because it is the first thing you remember of her life. I assumed memory would be later, and slower to develop. This clearly took place seconds after the initial resurrection."

"How'd you know?"

"You do eventually slow down. Have I heard this 'burble'?"

"She's talking about the little blips and chirps in my voice when I start and stop talking. I always do it, but it's pronounced in comms, you'll have heard it every time I laugh."

"You also make these noises independently of others, often in times of extreme emotion."

"... Yes. Freija calls them by human noises that apply to the emotion invoking it and what it sounds like. Giggle. There's one that she calls both sob and hiccup, depending on frequency."

"I expected as much. Do other Ghosts do this?"

"Oh, we've all got our comm-chirps and modulator waves and the like, and lots do indicate mood but most humans couldn't learn the difference with their hearing ranges. My big ones... If anyone else has them, they keep it quiet."

"Do you hide yours?"

"It doesn't come up. Fair."

"Indeed."

"Did you like meeting Freija?"

"... The colorful speech painted a vivid picture, but the emotionality did wear. I very much like the attitude and... Simplicity. She will need training in speaking to virtually anyone but other lowly Guardians. I may have further questions at a later time."

"On a scale of one to ten? Five perfectly neutral cordiality, ten being actually friendly and one being I need to keep her away from you?"

"She is filling in the combat requirement for friendship on your behalf, and it seems that I like Titans. Even with permission to act otherwise, she treated me with what seems to have been her best effort at respect. I will grant a six. Perhaps a six and a half. I could have done without the meeting but I appreciate all I learned. I wish you luck in helping her survive to whatever amounts to maturity."

".... You know, I didn't understand how Freija could feel like she did about your thanks, but I think she just picked up on how genuine you were being better than me."

"She did seem to be more socially aware than you. I assume this is because you are a Ghost."

"That's really unfortunate..."

"The awareness paired well with my purpose. I am glad that she values your friendship with me."

"What? She's been jealous for ages!"

"And yet she facilitates our meetings, and addressed my concerns for you many times without direction to do so and with hardly a question. And, in fact with objection from you. I remain amused that you wanted to hide your affectionate gestures where she did not. It has given me occasion to watch for others. Holding seems to be popular. There also seems to be an exchange of gentle impacts? I would expect the eye would be sensitive, and yet many use it as much as any other part."

".... There's lots of names for it but my favorite is bonking. Tapping, bumping, nudging. The word can change depending on location and speed and motion of contact. It's harder than it looks to directly hit our eye. Most bonks are against surfaces flat enough that the rim is protective. Our eye is slightly more fragile than the rest of our body, but only slightly."

"There are many shells."

"There are! And a bunch more shaders!"

"Indeed. What became of your sparkling flower?"

"It's my loungewear at home. I like it better but I'm still showing off this one."

Chapter Text

"Sunny."

"Caiatl!"

"Guardian."

"Empress. Thank you for including me. I mean that. Been worried you and Sunny would start chatting literally behind my back."

"Hmph! I have a few questions. First, for Sunny. Do you always conflate the connection between Guardian and Ghost with love?"

"... I... Guess so...? I'm kinda... Confused, actually. Do you think they're not the same thing?"

"They're not."

"What? How can you say that?"

"How can you look at Rex and Thomas and say it and love are the same? It's not. I grew to love fast, but it had to grow. The connection was just something for it to grow on."

"How would you describe the difference, Guardian?

"Goooood... Question. Um. Okay, so, you know how I said her heals feel compared to my fire? Hers is sterile and cold but strong and calming? And my fire's... I will get a fucking thesaurus if it will satisfy you, for--"

"Sunny."

"I'm not doing anything."

"She's literally locked herself into place. So she's right--technically, she isn't doing anything. Not even riding in my pocket. Where she is."

"She has used that adjective, and only that adjective, to describe her Solar Light three thousand, seven hundred, eighty-two times! In four years, ten months and three days! Find something else!"

"You gave me ninety percent of my vocabulary! And none of the other ones feel right for it, they don't have the war.... uh..."

"Don't say it."

"You're distracting us from the real question! Anyway. Hers are cold and my fire is ... Toasty and comfortable, in a not-quite-hot way, are you fucking happy?"

".... yes."

"That's the difference between the connection and the love. The bond is cold, the love, not my light, is warm. And they work together and like I said, one feeds... I'll spare you."

"Do continue."

"Ah fuck, why? Say, like... It's a wire with a sleeve where the wire is the connection between us. The wire can't be cut, and it doesn't need a sleeve to do its job, but it performs better. Doesn't lose energy when it touches stuff. Protected. That's not a very good one. I keep going back to tree roots, but nothing is really... "

"You have a natural talent for poetry."

"...huh?"

"Your speech frequently invokes colorful imagery that effectively delivers your intended meaning. Your math skills would contribute to timing and verse. This is unlikely to fade, if you maintain some practice. Your lifespan is likely to see opportunity to hone the talent into skill, should you choose to take up an art."

"...."

"Say thank you!"

"...Thank you, Empress."

"You are welcome. I have struggled to understand the nature of this connection, and after many circles, identified the source of difficulty. Sunny feels the connection and the love are the same. In asking about one, I would receive an answer about the other or both frequently. Rarely, she would refer to them as separate things performing the same job. You, on the other hand, never did any such thing. You also indicated a stronger awareness of the bond itself."

"Love grew later, around Dawning. Before the love, she was my Ghost. Like my hands and my thoughts, my Ghost. I call her my soul 'cos she's part of me, and I can feel that, and it's never, ever going away. I woke up bonded. I didn't know who or what she was, I didn't know who I was, but I knew that this little floaty ball thing was important to me."

"Do you think that bond is tangible in any way?"

"... I'm gonna say yes, because I think it's our Light...?"

"Would you feel that bond missing if your Light were closed off?"

".... You'd have to ask someone that lived through the Red War. I don't know and don't really want to."

"I got too sick to carry on, my priority became sheltering in place. I don't know if I lost the call."

"Hmph. When Zavala's Ghost was struck, he clutched at his chest. You also refer to Sunny as a glow in yours. Would you say this connection is centered there?"

"Can't really put it anywhere else, I guess, it's not in my head. Might be in my hands sometimes?"

"You say you woke up bonded. How did this manifest?"

"...I trusted her. She kept talking ten million miles an hour, all I could think was that she was adorable and I hated my boots, but I followed her. When we started working for the Vanguard... I could get started on everything she does for me again, but it always feels like you think that's why I love her, because she does stuff for me."

"I had my suspicions, but you have given enough evidence to the contrary. I now take these lists as acknowledgement of her support."

"H... oh. 'Kay, good. But so she's everything for me and everything to me and I learned so much from her-- but I'm really really sure that if I woke up on the cliff and she flew off without a word, I'd have followed her. I'm certain that if it had been the Guardians to wake up and the Ghosts were the things scattered around Sol, we would be the ones searching, waking up knowing our other pieces were out there to find."

"Do you feel that you would be incomplete without her?"

"I already said yes."

"Under those circumstances?"

"I'm guessing it feels like Dead Ghost but with hope to fill in the gaps."

"Did you, Sunny, feel incomplete before you found her?"

"Not really? I just knew she was out there and calling for me. I never really thought about that, you really feel like you'd be incomplete without me? Even if you kept your Light?"

"I feel incomplete without you when you're too far off, you're life itself, are you kidding? I can't decide if my feelings are hurt or if I'm relieved you didn't feel that way."

"Probably both."

"This topic is how I became enlightened to the conflation. Sunny referred to the connection similarly, saying that Guardians are more aware of it than Ghosts, and then referred to it as love."

"You can't tell me Rex loves Thomas. That connection between them is more like shackles and chain than ground for growth."

"Do you think this Thomas could shoot this Rex?"

"... No. Not even those two. Like, maybe, if the test was on the Ghost, and Thomas was already dead, and the option was to rez or never rez again, and the end of the world depended on it, he could turn away long enough to have the decision made permanent."

"I don't think so. He'd leave Thomas down for a long time out of spite alone, no doubt, but deciding for eternity, on the spot, he would rez."

"Truly?"

"Even he loves his Guardian."

"You did it again. It ain't love, it's harder than that, deeper. Love can fade, falter, grow and die. That tie is life itself, it's not love."

".... Really?"

"Did you decide all the Ghosts that said they hated theirs were lying or exaggerating? I've heard 'em, I know you have."

"Well... yes."

"You do not know what paths your Guardian may choose to walk. It is unlikely that you will always be accepting."

"I still think I would leave her down as the right thing to do, not out of hate."

"That's exactly my point. I bet there's even a whole category of behavior we could call hate-rezzing. I can totally see you just riding around in my pocket and getting me up when I die, no talking, no help in the visuals. I can't imagine what kind of person I would have to be to get you to do that, but that's exactly what you'd do."

"I still say that's angry and loving."

"... Have you ever hated anyone?"

"... I don't see why that should matter."

"Oh, okay."

"You've never hated anyone!"

"I've hated plenty! I'm good at it! You pick on me for the emotional, you know I hate! I hate that fuckhead whose dick I shot off! Stop me!"

"Excuse me?"

"Uh. Do you know what I said and are demanding an apology, or do you want a translation?"

"Hmph!"

"... Sorry, Empress."

"I want this story later. As for now, I did enjoy this conversation, and must depart."

"Light within, did she really say that?"

"She's messing with me, I know she is."

Chapter Text

"Is this a formal invitation?"

"What?"

Thomas held out a disc projecting a repeating loop of Uluran text followed by an English translation.

"To the flagship," continued Thomas, reading, "by the empress-- the fuck did you do?"

Freija blinked at him from the couch with her lips pursed, failing to look innocent. "Well. I slipped up and made a dick joke on comms. So she's either gonna execute me for show, or she's fucking with Sunny."

Thomas's face twisted with confusion. "Why are you making-- never mind, you don't even know why not to make dick jokes at royalty except the threat of execution."

"Isn't it about maintaining status? Respect, deference, all that, it's about making sure people listen to you, blah blah blah."

Thomas's face remained twisted, but he did blink a few times as he chewed on some words, then swallowed them. "You're... Not wrong, exactly...."

Freija let her head fall back over the couch and ran her hand through her hair. "We were on a private comm, my place is established, and so far she seems to think Sunny's upset is funnier than my swearing is offensive. I'm not trying to foul up my language, but my best example is someone who spent seven hundred years of the last millennium completely alone and my next are all soldiers. My ideas of manners are a little sideways and I'm not used to talking to anyone who doesn't kill themselves as a joke and she knows that."

"You know not to make dick jokes at empresses."

Freija stuck her tongue out at her human roommate. "I was mouthing off at Sunny and forgot myself, I didn't actually, like, "Hey, you know what's funny? Human genitals" at her or anything. But yeah so she's either gonna kill me or--and I say this because she said it-- she wants to hear the story."

Thomas returned slowly to his seat, placing the disc of invitation on the coffee table atop a small mound of gun catalogues. "The millennia old alien ruler doesn't want to hear about the time you shot someone's dick off as an act of petty revenge."

"No, I know," Freija agreed with a huge grin. "She wants to watch Sunny react like Sunny when I tell it."

That one fixed his face, finally, and his brow lifted as he frowned. "What?"

"Sunny's been trying to get me to stop swearing at Caiatl, like, every other time, sometimes even after she's said she doesn't care. One time after Sunny snipped at me, she threatened to ask for more 'vulgarity'."

Thomas couldn't respond, simply holding the stunned deadpan.

"I knew what she meant, though, so I told her I couldn't do better than saying fuck a lot. And she joked at us, so I figured it's all good. Then we were talking about love and then hate, and I asked if Sunny ever hated anyone and she hasn't, and she said I hadn't either and I said I did cos I hated that guy whose dick I shot off. So Empress Caiatl finally sounded mad when she said, 'excuse me'. But I think she's fucking with Sunny. Finally found a line she can tell me to cross without upsetting anyone for real. I'll do the dance, I think it's funny."

"Right..."

For the first time, Freija and Sunny together approached the Empress, who stood with two soldiers behind her on her flagship. Two more soldiers followed close, with a third waiting to take Freija's remaining weapon, a single hand cannon on her hip that she forgot to leave in the hangar.

"I take it this is why we've always done the comms," Freija whispered to Sunny, jerking her head to their escort.

"Indeed. The protocol is unwelcome by all," sighed Caiatl. The massive woman turned where she stood to lumber away, flanked by her guards and followed by Ghost and Guardian and their two. "However, I do not like the comms, and no spies can learn anything from this story.... and I want to see the Ghost's reaction."

Freija began giggling hysterically, barely covering her mouth to stifle the sound. "I said you were fffff. Messing with her. She was convinced you were calling me up to execute for show."

"Hmph!"

Freija clapped a hand over her mouth to keep the laughter down and tried not to look too hard at her Ghost, who couldn't seem to pick between arguing and begging for mercy. "Tired of her trying to get me to stop?" the Guardian asked.

Caiatl rolled her weight side to side irritably. "When I can speak for myself."

"You said you didn't care, but that doesn't make it okay." Sunny objected.

"Do you take me for a child?" Caiatl asked.

"No! But you're an Empress!"

"Do you feel I must be protected from foul words in foreign languages?"

Sunny bounced violently, shaking up and down. "You're an Empress and Freija needs to learn her manners!"

"I am indeed an Empress, and I relaxed the expectations. Your Guardian has little life experience and is hardly an infant to my people, even with respect to the life she does not remember. Why would anyone be offended by a foul-mouthed toddler?"

"You--"

"Your own respect for my status comes and goes between sentences."

"But--"

"This event she mentioned was the first genuine vulgarity I've heard from her. I will speak for myself. I brought a small selection of refreshments from the Tower, Guardian. I will hear this story, Sunny, and you will tolerate any foulness, real and perceived, from your Guardian without stopping her. Permission is otherwise granted to express yourself freely."

"She really did just give me permission to mortify you for her own amusement," Freija whispered to Sunny. "Be sure to do that dropping thing, that's a killer."

"Light within, please, don't embarrass me!" Sunny pleaded, lowering her voice to levels Freija could barely hear.

The Titan simply grinned and whispered back. "We're both on standing orders to do what she says in reason-- it's my job to embarrass you, now. This shit is official."

Despite the hush and what Freija hoped would have been a language barrier, the guards shifted uncomfortably and checked Caiatl's reaction. She shot the Guardian a 'look', a mere turn of her helm--enough that Freija got the point and ducked her head between her shoulders. "You will withhold all foulness until we have retired for the occasion."

"Yes, Empress, sorry."

The parlor looked nothing like the rest of the ship, being spacious with tastefully decorated furniture and sconces over the lights. A mural covered one wall and a soft-looking couch big enough for the empress faced the door. A simple metal table on wheels next to it held a few simple cans that Freija recognized from the barracks kitchen, as well as a small cake with icing and a bowl of fruit.

"Not what I expected," said Ghost and Guardian together.

"What did you expect?" Caiatl sat as a guard pulled out another sofa sized for a human.

"Honestly, more Cabal ship," Freija admitted with a shrug.

"Even my troops rest on cushions, Guardian. You will not have seen retirement quarters." The empress gestured with a broad hand to the seat. "Sit."

Freija collapsed to the couch, slouching into a corner as if trying to hide. Caiatl waited to make sure she settled, then redirected to the Ghost hovering behind the armored shoulder. "Sunny."

The Ghost all but hid behind the couch and drawled, "Yes?"

"How are you?"

Sunny peered past Freija at the Empress, glowing ears plainly in view as only half the eye emerged. "Mortified already. I'm sorry. Please don't let her do this. She'll be insufferable. This is enough to keep her laughing for years."

Caiatl "Hmph!"ed and removed her helmet to set on a different small table.

Freija had the sense to know this meant something, and she shifted in her seat, trying to look for her Ghost and then trying not to check the guards, all four of whom stood in place without moving.

Caiatl's mouth relaxed and broadened with her posture as she settled back into the sofa. The golden eyes focused on Sunny, hardly minding the Guardian where she squirmed. "I find it amusing that despite her lack of education from you, your Guardian has the sense to know when she's in a pressured social situation."

Freija glanced back for Sunny again and couldn't find her. "I don't know how to handle that?" the Guardian said timidly, "So I'm really uncomfortable? Can you... Oh. I can't be here without the guards. Even unarmed, which I understand. But this is uncomfortable."

Caiatl hardly looked at her, still 'smiling' at Sunny as she lounged back, obviously enjoying the effect on the pair. "I also find it amusing that for all her vivid analogies, she has few adjectives to her vocabulary. And many of them refer to combat capabilities."

"That's my fault," Sunny admitted as Freija simultaneously declared, "That's her fault."

Caiatl chortled and gestured at the drinks. "I did not know how to accommodate a Ghost. It never before occurred to me. No Guardian nor Ghost has asked."

Freija looked to Sunny with a brow lifted. "Anything?"

Sunny wagged in the air. "I don't even know what I could ask for."

"Want a stand? Cup of water to swim in? Pretty sure she'd get you a whole ass shell, she likes you enough."

Sunny drooped behind Freija awkwardly. "No, thank you."

Freija finally looked to the drinks and picked one at random. Sunny, heartened by her Guardian, emerged close to her neck to hover.

"It has been some time since I saw you," Caiatl remarked to Sunny. The gray face broadened again, and her tusks lifted, apparently smiling. "I believe this is a different color."

"It's a whole other shell. We have copies with different colors," Sunny explained softly, scooting toward Freija's ear and leveling with her Guardian.

"You are shy," Caiatl observed.

Freija fiddled with her drink while Sunny swayed in the air. "Yeah, it's really weird, 'cos normally she's the one that won't shut up and I'm the one that doesn't know how to talk, but when shit happens, I'm the chatty one."

Caiatl only "smiled" wider and sat back with her battle scarred arm over the couch. "Good. Then I will delay no more. Why, Guardian Freija, did you turn your weapon on an ally in a degrading manner?"

Blood rushed to Freija's face, darkening her skin to light purple. "He was on the other team, and he started it," she mumbled into her drink. "Which, I was dead, but it upset Sunny."

Caiatl rocked back and 'hmph!'ed again.

"Please," Sunny whimpered.

Caiatl drank again before she centered back on Sunny, who had begun to bounce idly in smooth motions. "I challenge you, Guardian -- see if you can inspire your Ghost to genuinely beg one of us to stop you."

Freija giggled hysterically, covering her mouth. "I'm not that good. Maybe just get her to yell my name?"

"Too easy," Caiatl countered. "I maintain my standard. Perhaps I will share a story with you, if you succeed."

Freija glanced at Sunny again and grinned. Sunny looked between the pair and dropped a foot, then flew a slow circle around Freija's head. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's funny," replied Caiatl with a harsh noise that might have been a snide laugh. "I have never enjoyed the stiffness of formal meetings and your interviews were never intended to be formal. Including your guardian was a choice I made, and knowing everything I do about her, I expected little in the way of etiquette. And yet even after I relaxed my standards aloud and explained my reasoning, you insisted. I speak for myself, and I am not offended by mere words, especially in private conversation when spoken by a woman whose best idea of a hierarchy seems based on capacity for violence and level of affection. She has made plain in her ways that she respects my status, and I do not need assurances. This lesson will be easily taught in this fashion, in addition to giving the opportunity to entertain guests and myself with little expense but time."

"You're punishing me and treating my guardian like a performing pet," Sunny moaned, swimming in the air in despondent figure-eights as if pacing.

"Pretty sure 'pet' is a high rank for some of us," Freija muttered into her drink, "and higher than half of those can hope for."

"I worry for the truth of this assessment," Caiatl rumbled. "In any case--Freija...." She smiled and rocked her head to fix on the hovering light, gaining a mischievous crease in the corners of her eyes as her tusks picked up. "...pet to Ghost Sunny, tell me this obscene story."

Chapter Text

"I remembered a time I was scared. I didn't die, but it scared me."

"Oh?"

"Early on, I was digging around for gear on the moon."

"Oh...."

"Yeah, that one. Sunny was still new, too, hadn't learned a bunch of lessons, yet. So I got snuck up on, 'cos I didn't mind my radar, and I took a Hive relic to the helmet. Cracked my shit, but I started running blind. And Sunny didn't know to wait 'til I'm safe, yet, she just wanted to fix my helmet before I ended up suffocating. So she came out before we were away from the Knight that got me, and he snatched her up. And I felt it in that bit I tell you is her, that went cold like the methane on Neptune. I do remember using a bunch of thrall to feed my fire, and I had a shotgun I liked at the time, so I'm pretty sure I emptied that into his skull. Probably beat him a little after that, too."

"It left a mark."

"Oh?"

"I'll show you when I see you again."

Caiatl greeted Sunny with a palm up and Sunny bobbed in reply. "This shell pleases me to see. More than the one with antenna."

"Ears," Sunny corrected, rolling her flaps in turn. "Anyway," she remembered, turning to face away from Caiatl. "It's right next to that little indent in my... Back. Dark line. You can touch if you want, Freija insists there's no texture change."

"You want to have a dent or do you suspect your Guardian lies?"

"... Kinda both." Sunny had to stop herself from wheeling and bouncing.

She didn't touch it, but Sunny saw her lift a hand for a moment. "I see it, but there is no visible rise nor sink. Years old, now. Perhaps impermanent?"

Sunny turned back around, not wanting to push boundaries if she wasn't. "We're waiting to see. It didn't start out dark, either. We forget it's there until we don't."

"Interesting. Tell me the story." Caiatl's brow lifted curiously.

"Do you just want to hear me talk about it?"

The familiar mirth marked her posture. "In part. I also have been enjoying the differences between the angles of yourself and your Guardian. I expected less incongruity." Caiatl gestured lightly to invite Sunny along for her walk.

Sunny drooped in the air and swayed back and forth as she fell into line. "Well.... We were on the moon, like she said, and I kept going in and out of hiding because it was dark, and sometimes she needed my help to see. The Hive can sense Light, though... Down there with no backup except anyone in wide-broadcast range, so far underground, we would be well-avenged but not rescued... But I was in her pocket and following her visual instead of her radar or listening, so I didn't hear or see him either. She just said something like it was too easy, and-- she was turning around to check behind her, and her visual flashed and warped, and her helmet seal was broken, and... I thought I'd be fast enough. I did get her helmet fixed, but I got caught right out of the air. I saw her run and it scared me until she hit the thrall. Then the relic touched me and I felt our Light being sucked out, and.... I could see through her helm, saw her face go gaunt. Nothing so much like the times she's been stabbed, the way she sank and her fire dimmed. Then she charged right in, alight and shotgun in tow. Blasted him to pieces in moments."

"This event is more significant to you than to your Guardian," Caiatl observed placidly. "She focused more on the combat."

"She forgot about it. We remembered again when she saw the-- we call it a scar. And since you asked so much about fear, we decided to share it. I think to her, it was just another learning experience-- we learned a lot in those days, and Freija didn't know literally anything yet. It was probably scary for her for a while, but she wouldn't remember it like that. After the Knight died and it calmed down, she yelled at me to make her hold her breath next time. I know I scared her-- she always yells at me when she's scared."

Caiatl shifted her weight thoughtfully. "She did not remember unprompted."

"No. She doesn't remember it as a special threat to her. You could probably ask about times she's been afraid for me, though."

Caiatl chewed thoughtfully on the idea. "I shall."

Sunny bobbed thoughtfully and rolled the memory. "It feels so silly to think, but it scared me when she ran without me. I didn't know she'd turn back. Fear or just not knowing I'd been caught. I didn't know she'd feel it. And... Then... I watched her feel it.... She was so new, I didn't even have my name yet. I thought that was gonna be it for us, that she didn't have enough Light to withstand it and keep fighting, but she did good. She got her fire going with the thrall-- she did that on purpose, to heal herself the rest of the way-- and flew in like a meteor. I'm still proud to remember that, too. Going so fast, that ferocious roar... You may not have heard it, but the triumph one is almost as chilling as her rage. That was the first time I heard it. She didn't even think about her own life. I still had a lot to learn about Guardians, back then. And myself."

Caiatl chortled. "What did you need to learn about yourself?"

Sunny froze in the air, then dropped forward with a played up burble to grumble. "I thought I knew everything. And I stand by that I did know a lot, except my own limits."

Caiatl laughed aloud.

"Yeah, right?" Sunny sighed. "The gap between knowledge and practice.... but I got better! Smarter. I've always been fast but now I know where to go that fast. I knew a lot, and I learned a lot, and I had an idea for a lot of stuff.... but my Guardian and our Light... Knowing wasn't the same as learning in the field and working with Freija."

"Hmph!"

"I didn't want to make a lot of demands on my Guardian. It seemed mean to wake someone up from the dead and make them work for you. It was bad enough she always fought for me. So never asked for anything, and I never complained--" Caiatl shot Sunny a sidelong look and a squint. "Okay, a little, but not like I'm comfortable teasing now."

"I understand."

"But after I got hit with the relic, I was... cold. And Freija didn't feel it when it stopped touching, but I still felt the cold. And I didn't tell her about it."

Caiatl's faceplate shifted as she apparently tensed her jaw. "I understood you to mean you did not want to ask-- you did not expect her to help you when in distress?" Caiatl sounded more confused than concerned.

"I did, but I thought it would be trouble. She'd already been protective of me and careful, so I knew she'd at least try, but I didn't know... I didn't know." Sunny bobbed happily with a high chirp. "It took a few tries before I really let it sink in, because she really didn't know how to help a lot of the time, and I still didn't want to ask."

"Hmph!"

"But this time, she noticed as soon as I popped out to shine the light for her. She called it a shiver."

"I see."

Sunny drifted side-to-side to swing as she remembered fondly, "She practically grabbed me out of the air-- she does that when she's worried about me, I don't know if she even thinks about it-- but she grabbed me and held me to her chest until she could find some Hive to make a sunspot."

"Those swirling fires?"

"Oh-- yes. When she can plant her Light into the body of an opponent, it will consume them and burn. Guardians are great sources in the Crucible. Standing in it creates a feedback loop, where she and the fire feed into one another. They can't perpetuate on their own, but they'll last for a long time."

"I have borne witness. The behavior is less disturbing, now I know it is soothing. Previously, it simply looked as though relishing in a victory. I assumed the only benefit was protection in the form of offense and perhaps prolonging their own internal fire, until I learned of its healing capabilities. It heals Hive Relic wounds?"

"No. Nothing can heal the wound. I only got scratched. But the way it pulled my Light... I guess it was like losing too much blood. I needed more than I could grow back on my own, sort of. I don't know. I know I felt better after she beat an acolyte to death and sat in the fires to cradle me. I could feel it when she touched it. She said she was sorry she yelled at me. She cried and said I scared her. She didn't know that could have killed her, she thought it was going to kill me. I don't think she knows now, either. I was so afraid that I would watch her drop and fade and die while her Light drained from me into the Knight's hand."

"Would the attack alone weaken a Guardian beyond fighting normally?"

"A young one? And inexperienced? Yes. If she didn't have the fire, it would have been the end of us. Lucky for us both, starting a sunspot is a real strong reflex. I should have known then that she'd never be a sentinel."

"Sentinel?"

"Void specialist. Good with shields. I tried to talk her into it for a long time."

"Hmph. Indeed."

Chapter Text

"Guardian."

"Hel-lo~o."

"She's in a good mood this morning."

"I hear that."

"Uh oh. That's a threatening undertone."

"Nah. You should've seen it, Cai--uh, Empress. You'd have appreciated it, I got to guide a bunch of New Lights through this hostile territory on Europa, ended up helping a few Salvation defectors join House Light-- but not before all ten of us got surrounded and attacked by this huge Eliksni, I think a technocrat, with the coat and this annoying ass Stasis gun thing. And I managed to keep the mortals alive and one of the New Lights did a thing I taught her and it worked and helped, and I had a good morning. Sure you could spoil it a little, but overall, I can still remember clear enough."

"I believe that, while the circumstances were unpleasant, you will not mind this recollection. We have discussed your self-preservation, but how have you handled threats to Sunny?"

"Violently...? The methane scared me for her but I don't know how much of that made sense. The whole thing with the witness messed with me. I don't handle them well at all, but they end up dead and on fire pretty fast. That was the only mistake with the Hive. Eramis froze her, once, she only didn't die because the Witness cheated and froze her first."

"What action do you take when you are concerned?"

"... I grab her? I think that's what you mean. I've snatched her out of the air, before. I hold her to my chest, she likes it right next to my heart, but if I'm trying to keep her under my armor, I kinda prefer my inner thigh? Not a great place in general, but safer than my pocket and less targeted than my head or torso, more out of the way than my pauldrons. Usually. Some of them get silly."

"She spoke of your actions after the event that caused her scar. Do you recall them?"

".... No, but I feel like this is some kind of test and me saying no fails?"

"Hmph! You pass. If the event stood out, it would imply rarity."

"....What was it?"

"I was cold after the relic got me, and you held me until I felt better. Got a sunspot going and sat in it to hold me between your hands."

"... Did I?"

"You don't remember at all?"

"I hardly remember killing the Knight. I remembered it hurt you more than a little, you were vibrating when you came out to shine the light.... but I don't remember me doing anything."

"... I can't decide if that's better than remembering."

"Why are you so weird???"

"Hmph!"

"She's pretty good about keeping safe since that time. I try to keep my armor loose enough that she can move under it if she has to, and there's even modifications I can use to help us both out when I'm working with other Guardians and there's extra Light to go around."

"This will require explanation."

"Uhh.... So, when we, Guardians, get attuned right between the weapons and gear, we end up basically condensing our Light and putting it into the tools, which is a really messy process, I guess? Like, if we were putting plasma into a straw and sending it through to push and hold the other end open, and Thomas would be so much better at this..."

"I take it a link is formed while this other end is opened?"

"How are you doing that?"

"Yeah! But the modifications make it easier to work with, making the straw bigger or putting funnels on our end or holding the other end open after the plasma goes away, and controlling where the straw goes and what it does when it gets there. And through all of this, we tend to spill the plasma kind of everywhere so we can all pick up each other's messes to work with."

"Indeed. In these Light rich environments, healing is easier for the Ghosts?"

"Yep! And for us, lots of us have our own things and there's even one that sends the Light right to our shields."

"Interesting. Did you know, Guardian, that the previously discussed event on the moon posed a significant threat of your 'Final Death'?"

"...."

"Caiatl! Don't test her like that!"

"... I mean, why the hell did you do that to the conversation? Why not ask that part and then let me explain the armor stuff?"

"I will end on a more positive note, but I expected you would lose enthusiasm in the reverse order."

"... I mean you're right, but that was still a shit thing to do."

"Freija!"

"I'm on the battlefield this time, I maintain the right to have battlefield manners. I figured, but I never looked it up. You just confirmed it. I don't care. We learned some stuff, found the fangs, and got out. I would do it again if I knew."

"I expected as much. Sunny also told me about these sunspots. Without using the word 'warm', describe to me how it feels to you."

".... that's just mean."

"And yet you laugh."

"Well yeah, it's funny, but it's still mean. Okay... So, making one usually means filling myself with Light and putting it into my fist or turning it into a hammer. That's... A not-quite-hot feeling and this is going to be very difficult. But it glows, and I feel it all over when I've got my fire inside, it courses through like blood, fills my heart and lungs. I love when I can get good and going, keep incinerating, completely surrounded by my flames, no matter where I step, the w.... heat embraces, feels good. Strong, uplifted, supported, I've used cradled, before. I don't know good words for it, there's a bunch. Everything is feeding into me. Anything that gets close becomes more kindling for the pyre I am. Old codes would have called me a Seigebreaker."

"Hmph."

"Yeah, sorry, that probably sounds creepy now that I think about it, but in my defense, it's usually Hive."

"Hmph."

"Figured that would help. Taken, Hive, and Scorn are the only ones blindly aggressive enough to throw themselves at me like that. You sure won't catch me feeling bad about it, either. They want to kill me enough to catch themselves on fire."

"Does Sunny enjoy the fire the same way?"

"No, but you should see her glow when my inner Light burns."

Chapter Text

"Guardian. Sunny."

"Empress!"

"Hoi."

"I have more questions about the Light."

"Alrighty."

"Why do you have the preference to solar alignment?"

"... Can I use the w-word?"

"... No."

"Aww, come on!"

"If it kills you, I will change the rules."

"Ugh! Fiiiine! Shut up, it's not funny. I don't know. It feels the most natural. Comfortable, safe. I'm good at using it without thinking too much about it, which isn't true of the others. We all have our things. I like the grenades, the way the fires shape when they're thrown. The hammer feels nice and solid and the impact goes all the way up my arm and into my core, you know how that one is, you have a hammer."

"I do."

"Yeah, I hear it, you know exactly what I mean. Actually, just that. That feeling, but all over. And wa.... Uh. Hotter. Shut up!"

"It's just so funny!"

"I see. Do the others have sensations as well?"

"Oh yeah. Absolutely. Which one first?"

"Void, I believe the purple one is called."

"Alright... These might all just be me, I know we all have our preferences and I'm pretty sure being true makes the unpleasant sensations stop-- but so. Void is.... empty? Like... To line myself up with it, I have to kind of forget myself and then call up an outline? And the outline holds that thing I'm forgetting?"

".... this may be the first time you've lost me."

"Aww! I liked you understanding me! Sunny's a jerk about it sometimes."

"Continue. We will reestablish the communication."

"Hm... So, you ever been hungry? I mean I know you have but that feeling before it hurts, after you've started working, and you notice that hollow pit in your... Wherever you put food, it is a stomach, right? I forget you're an alien. Non humanoid."

"These are familiar sensations. Continue."

"Good! Alrighty, so, that. But... Take that hollow feeling and stretch it out of your wherever, ours is in the middle, but stretch that around you and let go of the ends so that they free-float into the nothing around you so you're covered in nothing until it soaks in and you're nothing."

"A sense of absence. Hmph."

"Nice! Yes! Like being... Well, remembering you're space dust."

"Hmph!"

"So that's what lining up with Void feels like. I don't like it, but sending that nothing into stuff and making it implode is fun. Swallowing the impact of enemy attack by wrapping it around myself. I'll run it in Iron Banner for the bubble shield too, it's more useful."

"Hmph! And the electricity? Arc?"

"Ugh."

"You do not like arc."

"It itches! It's all crawling in my lungs and makes my stomach twist and my legs all twitchy and I get so fucking hyper--and I know you both think I'm hyper already, but that's just it, I get that much worse."

"Hmph!"

"I'll say exactly one good thing about it-- running feels good. The flow when I can get moving, I just wanna stay moving like that. You can feel every cell in your body moving with you, heart going, blood, air, all of it. I guess that's how arc feels all the time for the people who use it all the time, but the moment I have to stop, it starts itching all over again."

"Hmph. You also use the Darkness."

"Uh. Strand, sometimes? But not stasis."

"Oh?"

"Strand feels... Eh. Like... I don't know, I guess it just feels like being. A little more than nothing, cos I'm still there, but I'm just one more thing in a sea of things. It's kind of boring. Even using it feels like not much, like I'm pulling loose strings on cloth. The effect is huge but I'm really not doing much."

"Do you find stasis too cold?"

"Kinda? It's too... Still. If arc speeds me up, stasis slows me down. In the right hands, it's a glacier in the whole, massive unstoppable way. But I don't like that inch at a time shit. I don't like the chill, you're right, but it's not even a chill so much as it sucks the heat out of me and everything around me. Anti-warm. If void is emptiness, stasis is a vacuum. You still exist but you're pinned by nothingness. Out in open space without any protection. Plus I hate the way it feels to use. It's like being a hammer instead of using one. And I mean that in a, you-don't-even-have-legs, you-are-the-block-of-metal-on-a-stick way. And you have to move yourself by sheer force of will against all inertia and friction."

"Ha!"

"You like that one? Sunny did, too. Made the joke when I picked my hammer back up after my stint with it."

"Did you hesitate at all to use the Darkness?"

"Uh... I'd be lying if I said yes. As much as I want to. Obviously everyone said not to do it, but at the time I was fresh, I hardly responded to my name fresh, I was just answering a distress call in the middle of nowhere. Didn't even know that guy was a big deal until Sunny said something. And like I said, everyone said not to, but the only reason I really hesitated at all was because they kept fucking with Sunny, but then the only way to get that to stop was to figure out how to stop it myself. So I went ahead. And the meditation and new way of thinking was good for me, but I missed my fire. Took my lessons and went home. How I usually do with new things."

"That was a relief to find out. It worried me, how deep she got. Turns out she just does that."

"Ugh. We got her name from one of our arguments. Sort of. I was sweet talking after one. I suck up no matter who won, she pretends to hate it. We argued because I wanted to mess with it and she was begging me to stop. But after one, I called her Sunbeam. I called her my Sunbeam, said she lit my way, could keep me warm until I returned to the Light, something like that. She melted. She was mad at how mad she wasn't. I'm still proud of it, too. I wish I remembered it better."

"She can be so sweet and then other times I want to just beat her head in."

"I can't remember exactly how the conversation went, but Sunny picked her name out of Sunbeam and we kept it."

"Hmph. Sunny, why do you prefer the void?"

"--The shields just make sense!"

"--The shields just make sense, she said it every day for months and then every other day for a year longer, before she finally gave in and let me have my flame in peace."

"Oh?"

"She used Void for about six weeks."

"She likes the shields because they stop or slow the incoming damage, but unlike my fire, the damage stays done. Before it breaks, I'm supposed to be beating my way out to reposition, recharge and do it again. I can do it, but if I screw up, I don't recover well and I usually die. I don't know how those other guys do it. I've heard them say the same thing about me, though. They like the sunspots, but it's just not the same."

"Hmph!"

Chapter Text

"Guardian."

"Hu- Caiat-- Empress?"

"What are you doing?"

"... Exploring."

"This is pretty normal. Debris fields get caught up together and sometimes ship parts or supplies are still good for salvage. Plus I can't talk her out of it."

"For privacy, I have not tracked vital signs, but for curiosity- what would you say is the survival rate of your successful catches?"

"Seventy-nine percent, and I'm getting better!"

"You are piloting?"

"Yep! The gravity wells keep me from getting close enough to avoid momentum, but I've gotten pretty good at measuring speed and softening the landing."

"And I'm adapting to that. I kept trying to boost and killing her timing."

"How many times have you fallen to your death, today?"

"Uhh-oh, shit--"

"Thirty even. Maybe -- still thirty. I muted her comm, give her a minute."

"What is the injury rate?"

"Less than half but more than we like."

"I'm okay."

"I know."

"I'm talking to me."

"Ha!"

Chapter Text

"So, you know how we talked about the Class group dynamics?"

"You had difficulty explaining much of anything."

"I did! And I still do, but I have a few of them I can talk about, like the difference in how they play the roles."

"Oh?"

"Well, for instance, a Warlock as a leader will have a very well thought out plan with good and relevant details. Usually. Two major foils to this are the other members of the fireteam and also the warlock. It's not unusual for them to bog themselves down with backup plans or overly complicated plans. The other teammates.... Depends but, say, there's another warlock? That one will be in the way with trying to help or else ignoring them in favor of making their own. A Titan might have a hard time following--or just plain doesn't like the complexity. Freija can and won't. She hates it. A Hunter will similarly dismiss the others, but sometimes they'll want to help, too. Hunter help looks like an excited child trying to help, bringing unnecessary tools and weapons up, messing up the plans with general overenthusiasm. Titans, too, but in a more aggressive fashion. Breaking things, usually."

"Ho."

"Titans in charge are either excellent or horrible. They're great tacticians, except when they're not. They can lead the charge but the wrong one trying will just die. A good one will have a firm command, but half the time, they're prodding and begging same as any other bad leader. Freija can't lead because she can't survive long enough. Not yet, anyway. Dead leaders are useless."

"And Hunters?"

"A Hunter... In the lead? Mm..."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I'm sure it happens, but I just can't really imagine it. If they lead, it's usually only other Hunters. They have a complicated ranking system that everyone else ignores. By the time a Hunter is in charge, their cohorts will already be really good at working with the Hunter in question. The adventures are limitless, and some really good and really bad things have happened with Hunter-led crews."

"Hmph."

Chapter Text

"So they all die at the end of every round?"

"Only if the attackers win, really."

"The victors are rewarded with death?"

"You're going to have to take this one up with Shaxx, it's his fault."

"It simply confuses me that a full elimination of the winning team would be the cause of victory. Nor the goal to result in the death of the players."

"You like the crucible, don't you?"

"I do. Guardian fearlessness and ferocity are on grand display, and skills pushed to their limits. However, certain practices confuse. Including this one. The goal is to set an explosion and then protect it until it can go off. But at no point is survival expected for them. This game is literally a practice in suicide."

"It's a practice in setting bombs and making sure they go off. As long as we're okay, it's fine."

"And your Freija?"

"Hardly notices. We both prefer the bomb over getting shot."

Chapter Text

"I saw your Guardian in the Iron Banner."

Caiatl's voice surprised the Ghost and Guardian, and Freija leapt to her feet with a start. "How do you know?" asked Sunny, hovering into Caiatl's line of sight.

She seemed amused at their reaction, rocking to her heels and lowering her tusks. "I asked the name of particular Tributaries that I found impressive, and hers was one. That armor set is quite small."

Freija looked down at herself and smiled sheepishly. "The legs help me run faster."

"And they send bolts of electricity amongst your foes when you strike them," Caiatl agreed, speech unusually fast for herself. Freija smiled when she recognized the enthusiasm. "I do enjoy Valus Forge's sports. We have simulated them, but the live fire cannot be matched."

Freija giggled and Caiatl chortled. "You are fearless," she told Freija.

"I..." Sunny interrupted when she dropped a foot and a half. "Yeah," she sighed.

Caiatl humphed pleasantly. "The deadliest among you were quite impressive, but I find this game favors those who play the objective. The deadliest among you seemed only interested in being the deadliest."

Freija moaned and rolled her head in exasperation. "Yeah. They're still doing something, gives people like me something to pick up. But they'll leave the crests when I'm not there to pick them up, or worse, they'll make so many that even if they do pick them up, there's some left behind. That's partially my fault for dying, though."

Caiatl humphed again and crossed her arms. "I appreciate your capacity for clear thought in combat. It is amusing to see you give in to your instincts and stay to fight long after you should have retreated," she said.

Freija giggled nervously and ran a hand over her hair. "Yeah, my disengage is shit. I'm working on it. As long as my engage isn't too... Uh. Engaged, I do okay." She smiled wanly.

Sunny, who had subconsciously drifted to Freija's side, wheeled her petals. "It's good to see you, Empress," she sang. "I'm glad you like the Banner. It was the first place Freija got to fight her fellow Guardians, so it's kept a warm place in our hearts, and we come back when Saladin does. We're glad you let him keep it."

"It was an excellent opportunity to witness Guardian battle techniques," Caiatl said with a jovial shift in her stance. "It has also been... Fun. I have certainly enjoyed targeting the Guardians with drop pods. Valus Forge has promoted this, in fact. He says that many could do with lessons of the kind."

Freija giggled again. "I was only in the way once," she objected playfully. "This time. Today."

Caiatl rumbled a laugh and gave the Guardian a nod, then turned back to Sunny. "I would appreciate your company at your convenience."

She almost hid the exhaustion but Sunny and Freija caught it anyway.

"My pleasure! Freija has a date coming up, I'll ping you?"

Chapter Text

Sunny found the empress in the Hall of Heroes, standing tall at the doorway they normally started through. "You wanted to talk?" the Ghost asked sweetly.

Caiatl grunted and turned to lumber down the hallway, posture heavy and steps plodding. "I wanted you to talk. I am weary and would appreciate the company of a friend," she replied.

Sunny whirled around and wheeled. It was a relief that she knew Sunny needed the instructions, she must have been getting used to her habits.

"I have good news, then! We got to dig into Thomas's previous life, and Freija asked him about his history! Rex never told us! I have no idea wh-- actually, I do."

Caiatl's relief showed immediately, shoulders relaxing and weight resting on her heels. Her breath even slowed down.

Sunny figured she would only be half listening, but she was happy to have the audience, and even happier to be a relief to someone that needed it.

~

"So this roommate, of whom you speak quite lowly, was a Warlord?" the empress asked jovially.

"See, that's my favorite part about it-- he said no. He says no, but then every single time he tries to defend his point, he fails. He even gives up and says yes, but then if you say it later, he tries to say no again! I don't understand it. He said he wasn't proud of it, but he even thought about hiding it when they were talking about it!"

"They were not good times for your people. From the sound of it, he did not want to be a Warlord. I personally am on his side of this-- if he does not call himself a Warlord, regardless of his role played, he was not one. I am surprised to hear this. Was his skill always so limited?"

Sunny groaned and swept into a huge circle. "I don't even-- he's not big with his jump, which a lot of Guardians consider to be an important thing. He really is terrible at anything except clearing gaps with a good run-up on flat terrain. But he's fine on the ground. And he can shoot really well, I didn't even know that, and really, he's not bad, it's just that his Ghost is a jerk and he can't be bothered to put up with it enough to shake off the rust and gather some momentum!"

Caiatl grunted. "This Rex. Does he believe Thomas qualified as a Warlord?"

"You know, I don't know," Sunny mused. "Thomas did say he misses those days. Rex didn't say anything himself, he was grouchy that whole trip. He's jealous of me and Freija, they both are, no one is being secretive about knowing. They can't help it, and really, we can't either. The weirdest stuff can bother them, and sometimes I get it but other times I'm just confused."

"Their bond is...?"

"I don't know if you mean bond like the love I mean or like the connection Freija talks about."

"If you will clarify, I will accept any answer."

Sunny wondered briefly if the thing that connected a Ghost and Guardian could be disrupted at all. "The love like I mean, they're... Not in a good place. Rex gets spiteful and apparently won't heal under certain circumstances, and I did know he had problems with his scanner bandwidth range, but I didn't realize how bad, so even the few times he does help, he's not as helpful as, say, I am, just because he can't. Which... If he's been trying to make Thomas make up for things he can't do.... It's rough. They make me feel lucky. They make me feel lucky when we're fighting. But as far as I can tell, they're just as much Ghost and Guardian as Freija and I are. He's actually a great fighter, he really is. It's a shame."

Caiatl "hmphed". Something in it sounded amused. "This is an interesting account. I would not have imagined that a Guardian and their Ghost would be so at odds. It seems counterintuitive."

"People are people," Sunny sighed. "Even an obligatory mutual symbiont. Rex started it, but I think he started it out of something pathetic instead of something mean. Thomas might have been mean back, back then. He's so kind, now. If a little resentful, I can smell that without olfactory sensors."

"How old are they? How long ago was this rift formed between them?"

Sunny wheeled. "I have no idea. Thomas had indicated that it was the library, which means the Tower's formation a couple hundred years ago, but the story he told made it sound earlier than that."

"I would like to witness this discordance," Caiatl chuckled.

"I don't," grumbled Sunny. "They make me feel bad. Sometimes even a little guilty for being friends with Freija in front of them. The look on Thomas's face when I gave Freija her backpack before she asked for it.... I feel bad for Thomas sometimes because I know Rex just can't, but there's lots he can and won't. It's just... Sad."

"And yet he, like any other, kept a band of mortals," she chuckled. "Out of a sense of obligation, as I understand it. Was this Rex supportive?"

"I got a real keen sense that he wasn't." Sunny turned to see Caiatl's tusks bobbing thoughtfully. "I don't know. I literally can't imagine what would make me act like that at Freija. I know he thought he could drive Thomas into being more than he is, but he was mean about it. We've all tried to help, but Rex is too angry about being wrong to correct his mistake. And he gets to see where my incessant cheering on has gotten Freija, someone he considered to be far lesser than Thomas as long as he could get away with it, and that just makes him so angry."

"You seem to simultaneously pity and dislike this Rex. And yet you call him friend?"

"I can love someone I don't like," Sunny said. "I wish I could help them. Freija wants to, too, but neither of us know what to do. Rex is angry and wants to be angry. Thomas is.... Just.... He's so kind, patient, he loves Rex, I think. Feels sorry for him, too. I don't know. They... It's so weird. And sad."

Caiatl chortled and heaved a long sigh. "Somehow, it is a relief to know that even bonds so deep do not guarantee harmony. They do work together?"

"Only in combat. It's one thing Rex can do well, and it's what he wants to do. Thomas is good at it, too, as long as what you need is cover fire. His threadlings will dissolve Vex almost as fast as his needles can unmake them, and once he's linked the needles into his gun, he can send that magic everywhere. But he's not tough. And he's real bad about getting caught out, I think it's him and Rex both being bad at spatial awareness. He has to stay in the back. Rex hates it."

"This Thomas has aligned strongly with the Darkness?" Now the amusement turned to real interest. "Do you suppose there is a link between their weak relationship and his ability to use the Darkness? Does the Ghost facilitate the Darkness the same as the Light?"

Sunny wagged a "no". "Guardians are paracausal-- outside causality, able to break the rules of physics and create matter or manipulate the intangible forces of the universe. So it allows for manipulation of Darkness. I think. I don't know for sure. But anyway-- no, I really don't. Rex likes the Darkness, too, he says. He could just be saying it for effect, but he says Stasis feels minty and strand feels like to swimming in warm water, and he likes both of them. It's been a big relief to them both. We thought it would help them, but they're stuck in their ways. Rex refuses to help Thomas do anything but fight, and Thomas doesn't like fighting. He hates getting shot, he hates dying, and he doesn't like working with anyone at the same time as needing backup." She rolled in the air and wheeled her petals. "That's one thing he is jealous about, Freija is so stupid and headstrong and he would love Thomas to be so combat-ready. Thomas would, too, I think."

Caiatl chewed on that one, too. "Do you think he would be happier with her? Or a Guardian like her?"

Sunny wagged another negative. "I think he'd hate her and anyone else like her. He doesn't know what he wants. If he had Freija, if he tried to tell her to do anything, she'd fight with him first. Anyone like her would do the same. He can't be nice, and Freija doesn't respond well to authority."

Caiatl rumbled another laugh. "She responds to real authority well enough. She knows Rex is not her superior."

Sunny wanted to argue but then she remembered Neomuna. Yeah, fair enough.

"Do you feel a Guardian like Thomas would relieve you of the guilt you suffer for raising a soldier?"

"Eternally bound to the fight," she sighed. She hadn't considered it. "I would ... Probably feel like Rex. Like I wasn't doing enough. I like to think I wouldn't scare my Guardian away from me. I... I don't know what's wrong with Rex."

"You feel he is ungrateful?"

"He had Thomas for five hundred years before I found her and he was disappointed from the first day because he didn't want to get shot. I feel like it's blasphemy to be disappointed in your Guardian like he is. Something about it should feel wrong to him, if you ask me. I think it might and that's what makes him feel like that."

Caiatl chortled. "Is there a grander belief that one can blaspheme?"

Sunny didn't even think about it when she said it. "I mean.... Some of us think we were all created with a purpose and a single Guardian out there to find. Some of us think we happened by accident, tiny fragments of the Traveler trying to save ourselves, and the connections to the Chosen are happenstance, or are something else magical. Some of us think that we were created to fight, or defend humans. It varies by who you ask."

"Your personal belief?"

Sunny paused to consider it. She hadn't rethought it in a while. "Well, I believe that... We were created unintentionally. I also believe that no individual holds the spark for an individual Ghost. We have our Chosens, but to think that we were all created a thousand years ago to look for people that wouldn't be born, let alone die, for centuries..... Bodies decay. To think that anyone could miss their chance just because the body rotted... To think that the Traveler created some Ghosts to die... I don't think it did. Really, I don't think it did just because there's too many of us. I think it broke and we're just dust that came off it. I think the bodies we're drawn to call us, but I don't think it's any single one-- I think more than one holds our spark. But maybe not at a time, or maybe it's spread out until I feed the one that grows, like the one seed of three planted."

Caiatl silently considered this for a time, gazing ahead. She then smirked. "I do not envy your position. I would suffer many doubts, more than you, I think."

"I... Honestly, I don't know. It all comes down to the fact that, if we don't fight, there will be nothing left to fight for. And I have Freija, and she wants to fight, so fight we will. Terrifying as that is."

"Your courage is seen," Caiatl promised.

"Your strength is, too, but remember that you have to rest," Sunny said, seeing the light fade in her eyes. "Do you sleep? You should probably sleep."

Her weight rocked back to her heels and her face plate shifted as her tusks lifted. Her eyelids still drooped. "We sleep. I will. I am glad to see you. I will entertain you, next time." Caiatl put a fist to her chest and bowed, an unusually stuffy gesture.

Sunny nudged the tip of her helmet. She was pretty sure it was the first time she touched the empress, even that little bit. Caiatl chuckled as she drew back to her full height.

"You must be tired, defaulting to formality like that," the Ghost observed. "See if Nimbus will hide you for an hour or so?"

"I will steal the sleep I can," she promised. "How is your Guardian?"

"Standing ground with fire and hammer," Sunny said. "It can be so beautiful, even amongst the horror."

"Her fires are indeed," agreed Caiatl. "I look forward to our next meeting. Farewell."

Chapter Text

"Guardian."

Freija missed her next shot but the explosive splash still scorched the Vex goblin and burned away the last of its core. The smoking, blackened metal collapsed to Neomuna's artificial ground and Freija resisted the urge to look around for the empress.

"Yeah?" She tried not to sound annoyed but she was too annoyed for that. Sunny hit her hip. She considered trying again and decided to be smart this time.

"Tell me about this weapon."

Freija did look around now, taking a second to realize she meant the one in her hand. "You mean Sunshot?"

"You wield a relatively large handgun that creates explosions. Tell me about it."

"Oh, Sunshot is my baby," Freija gushed, petting the hand cannon lovingly. "I love her so much, she's my favorite. I can't even remember how long I had her, it feels like my whole life."

"That's not far off the mark," interjected Sunny playfully.

"I can't remember the last time she left my pocket. She isn't one-of-a-kind but she's rare. I'm not sure what's going on with a lot of that. There was one but then... Thomas says he's thinks it's loops in space-time, where they fall through when we die but get rebuilt with them, or at least this one really... Weird... Thing, which is also a warp in space-time and.... Anyway.

"Kind of embarrassing that I love it so much but I can't remember when I got her. I do remember when I fell in love with her, though. She saved my ass, she saved my fireteam's ass, she fed all of us so much Light that the Warlock could.... You know that thing they do when they stab the ground with the fiery sword? That. Faster than normal, I mean, we need to kinda feed on the Light to use that kind of power very much."

"You have mentioned this."

"But yeah, fed him the Light, got my hammers back, got two allies up, and the whole time I'm firing into wherever group I can and listening to her sing."

"You align with this Sunshot effectively?"

"Oh yeah. And she and I, with a piece of armor, we can feed off each other and I can feel every fucking shot in the best way, hammer impact way, and she's heavy and she kicks, but I hardly know how to use anything light or gentle anymore-- and that waa... mm."

"Go on."

"The warmth from a good cascade... Mm! Goes from my scalp to my toes! Hee, on the moon, the thrall will chain and rush out to get caught in it until it actually starts blowing them up as they are summoned." She giggled briefly, but stopped to line Sunshot up with a Hobgoblin well out of practical range. She fired once to set off its recovery, then seven more times metronomically, destroying it.

"You seem to use it more effectively than others," Caiatl observed.

"Thank you!" Freija couldn't keep the happiness out of her voice.

"You made her Light spike," Sunny reported, giggling.

"Hmph! I have seen it more often recently."

Freija grunted, mirth dismissed. "Yeah. This thing Queen Mara gave us has made channeling solar energy in certain ways really easy, and Sunshot has been eating well indeed."

"Why do you sound irritated, Guardian?"

"'cos that's my gun!" she huffed. "And as soon as the thing runs dry, they'll drop her. Latecomers and fair-weather friends. I'll miss the thing but I won't miss racing everyone else to the fireworks."

"I see. How many enemies have you defeated with it?"

Freija sucked her teeth. "You'll have to ask Sunny. I have no idea. It's a big number."

"Freija doesn't want to know."

"She only minds in retrospect?" snorted Caiatl, but then a harsh gulp of a sound interfered with the link for several seconds. "I see."

"My kill count choked the Empress of the Cabal?" Freija asked.

"On a single weapon," clarified Caiatl. "Truly? In four years?"

"Thereabouts," Sunny sang, sounding very proud.

"Okay, now I wanna know."

"I doubt she can conceive the scope of it," Caiatl said. "She's hardly seen more than a few hundred at a time. Tell her."

The Ghost hesitated, eventually conceding, "Eighty-two thousand."

Freija couldn't imagine that many people at once, no. She could hardly imagine the actual number written down. Usually numbers were ten or ten billion. She hardly knew what a crowd of fifty people looked like. Usually by the time there were that many things around, she needed to shoot them before they killed her.

Then again, that was the point. "I mean, yeah?" she eventually said.

"Hmph!"

Chapter Text

Sunny had to wait nearly a full week to talk to the Empress. She knew it wasn't really important, and even a waste of time considering the genuine seriousness of the universe's situation....

But that meant levity was important, too. Smiling in the face of the apocalypse was important. And if anyone needed a morale boost, it was probably Empress Caiatl.

The Hall of Heroes echoed with Pouka chirrups and trickling water. Sunny realized she'd never been in here alone before-- Caiatl was usually waiting when Freija didn't accompany her. The silence crawled in her core and made her dance idly.

"Sunny."

"Caiatl!" the Ghost flipped upside down to face her and cartwheeled. "I have answers!"

Caiatl snorted a short laugh and gestured down the hall with an open palm.

~

"It really just broke down into what each set of three is and what interpersonal dynamics they lean toward. So a fireteam full of warlocks can be generally said to have highly competitive natures. The Guardian who came up with the list said in a pretty vulgar way that they're extremely competitive and will get petty with it."

"Oh? Will I need to call your Guardian for the vulgar phrase or will you tell me?"

Sunny froze, then bounced in sharp zig-zags through the hall. "Ohhh! If you insist! The Guardian referenced measuring the length of the hair on their backsides to see whose was 'best'."

Caiatl rumbled a low laugh. "Does your Ikora do this?"

Sunny couldn't stop the resulting image from invading her thoughts and she couldn't stop the giggle inspired, either. Caiatl laughed with her. "This is much simpler than you made it sound."

"I know! I was trying too hard. I also haven't seen anything except the ones that included Titan, which made the others difficult. But so we have, to start with, full teams of matching sets. I just told you about Warlocks. Titans... and I can speak for the truth of this one, Titans' maturity drops off dramatically and they become very playful and very foolhardy. If there is ever a time you'll see Freija do something truly stupid, it will be playing with her fellows. I caught a crowd playing a game where they toss a ticking bomb in a circle, and whoever dies loses until there's one winner. Usually by the time they're down to three or four, they all die due to proximity."

Caiatl gave Sunny a side-eye and Sunny tried to pretend she didn't notice. The intensity grew until the Empress stopped walking and turned fully to face the Ghost as she tried to saunter on.

Finally, she shot up to fall straight down with an exasperated groan. "Yes, she's done it, too."

Caiatl rumbled a laugh and continued her comfortable pace down the corridor. "You have mentioned Hunters' tendencies in groups. What could three of them in a single fireteam be like?"

"Really, they're friends. I've told you, they're the most packlike of the bunch. They play like Titans but without quite so much enthusiasm."

"Is that what you're calling it?"

".... shut up. Anyway. The Titans will all do a stupid thing at once where the Hunters make one of them go first. That's the real difference. So that's full sets of all three.

"One of each, according to the Guardian, is boring and balanced, and looks calm with a turbulent undercurrent. Interpersonal relations between Guardians always are complicated, but I can imagine that the mixed personalities that comes with each class makes it more pronounced."

"Oh?"

"Well, when Freija and Rise have a Warlock around, and they've had a few, it is a fairly balanced team. Rise and Freija both adjust to work for the Warlock, whatever they happen to need, if it's cover or cover fire. The problem arises when they get tired of it. One of them will get bored with the change in tactics. At that point, they run away and screw things up. It's not horrible. But it's boring with a turbulent undercurrent that throws things off from time to time. So the assessment rings true."

"Hm."

"And now the long list-- Who first?"

"Tell me about the Titans, first."

"Well... Two Titans usually results in a familiar sense, where they both feel driven to protect their third, and the defining difference is a flavor of energy. A Hunter with their Titans, that's a fireteam that's ready to stay for the fight, with a strong foundation and the quick one in and out of the cover the Titans take turns providing. With a Warlock, they've got the brains instead of the firepower, it lends to a better sense of solidity instead of three pieces working together.

"One Titan, on the other hand... Paired with two Hunters, they're either trying to keep the Hunters in line, or, if the Titan is someone like Freija, they're playing with a Hunter while the other is trying desperately to keep them in line. I've even seen this one, it was the Titan trying to wrangle the Hunters, but all three Ghosts were over the Titan's head, just watching and waiting for the squabble to end in gunfire. It was cute to me, but you could just smell the exasperation."

Caiatl rumbled another laugh. "Poor Zavala," she murmured, referencing a joke she'd made long ago.

"Then there's the Warlocks, who let the Titan relax, if the Titan has the patience for it. Warlocks-- and I've told you about this, that thing Warlocks do where they start rambling and expecting you to keep up? That. And then with two of them? That doesn't get any better. In fact, it gets worse, because they'll both turn to the Titan instead of talking to each other, because each other always swerves the topic off where they want it. Freija won't be around Thomas and Rhys together, and they are talking to each other about it. But if the Titan can stand it, they've got some powerful friends. Who might or might not try to use them in an experiment."

"Hmph! Would your Thomas use your Guardian as a test subject?"

"He already has."

"Ha!"

"Last, we have the ones I'm not familiar with. Two Hunters and a Warlock. They have a less parent and more sibling feel-- I don't know if you have these family structures-- but in this case, the Hunters are mean to their Warlock, but they only allow it from themselves and each other. Any outsiders trying to target the Warlock will be attacked aggressively, either physically or verbally, depending on the degree of offense."

"We have a similar dynamic but not between siblings."

"Oh, nice."

Sunny hoped Caiatl wouldn't notice that there was a set missing. She bobbed along politely and tried to find a good way to end the conversation without feeling too much like she was lying.

"And the final item? Two Warlocks and a Hunter?"

Damn.

"Well... the Guardian who made the list made a joke here, but I can't really refute it for several reasons, in part because I'm sure it's actually true..."

"Oh? More vulgarity?"

Sunny dropped and spiraled up nervously. "Yes."

Caiatl's mirth glared in her posture and her step quickened. "Tell me."

Sunny knew the threat of calling Freija to say it for her lingered under the command. She also didn't want to explain this. She really didn't want Freija explaining it. Freija would have a hard time, too, even.

"The joke is... 'It's a kink thing', which is to say that there is a far deeper interpersonal dynamic that extends into other parts of their lives that may or may not include sexual, fantastic, or romantic elements that have nothing to do with combat, the Light, or anything else except that they're human."

Caiatl's laugh stayed in her posture. "Of that entire sentence, I could only gather that you are both uncomfortable and unfamiliar with this subject."

Sunny's inner core spun and scrambled everything within. "Please don't call Freija, she's not going to be much help. And don't look into it. I'm sure it's fascinating from an anthropological point of view, but you'll only find more questions and completely unsatisfactory answers. Humans are very human, and that's the extent of it."

Caiatl nodded slowly and considered this. "You may be right about the wisdom of further investigation," she agreed. "The differences between the mortals and the Guardians are numerous, but humanity lives on within both, in its ways. I will certainly agree that humans are human." She rolled her weight side to side as the smile fell away and she took a few long, slow breaths. "People are people," she said, then, as if brightened at the thought and appreciating the notion. "People are people," she repeated, voice flat with annoyance. "And with this refreshed frame of thought, Sunny, I will return to my duties. I thank you for your company."

"You've been getting stiff, lately," Sunny observed. "Is it me? Or the end of the universe?"

Caiatl didn't answer, batting the air with a hand wordlessly, and she continued to the Hall.

Chapter Text

“Sunny.”

“... Are you mad at me? You sound mad."

"You have done well. Your service in the fight is seen and known to all. I have not let your Guardian have all the glory.”

“Thank you so much!”

“Freija….”

“Thank you, I've been so messed up over this, and I can't talk to anyone about it because Zavala and Targe and I'm trying to be The Guardian and shit but my fucking Ghost! And then everyone keeps acting like I saved the fucking day!”

“You did.”

“We did. You and me. You faced everything I did and more. That fucked up monster went after you more than me, that thing– it hates you. It hates you. And you still stand.”

“It hates…?”

“That thing is jealous as fuck of us because Ghosts chose us. It feels betrayed and it hates all of you.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed. Watching your many battles, I am once again in awe of your tenacity.”

“I'm fine, I'm going the bad kind of crazy about Sunny being hurt, but other than that I'm fine.”

“Guardian, your voice trembles.”

“It’s fucking Sunny. You know how special she is as a person. Yes, my voice is trembling.”

“... Is there any help I can offer?”

“No. Thank you. If I find anything that can help, I'll tell you first.”

“Thank you, Empress.”

“You are welcome. I would like to walk with you where you are most comfortable here, when you can. I expect the Guardian's presence, but you may come alone if you wish.”

“...”

“I'll lurk but I won't listen. You can call me over when you're done with anything you don't want me hearing.”

“There's nothing I don't want you hearing.”

“Hmph! You may come with us, Guardian. I did not expect you to stray far from her, as I said.”

“You often forgo the proper grooming of your hair during times of stress,” Caiatl observed.

Freija had sloppily stuck six extra clips in, trying to get it out of her eyes. “There's not been a lot of opportunities. Haven't found a good bath facility memory yet.”

“Indeed.” Caiatl began a lumbering trudge through the Refraction, a Skyburner's Oath on her hip.

“It's good to see you outside combat. It was good seeing you in combat, too, that was fucking awesome–sorry.” Freija shrank into her shoulders and smiled weakly.

“You may swear freely when discussing combat,” Caiatl chortled. “I enjoy watching you work. It is a marvel what one can do when they need not fear death.”

Freija wagged her head. “I dunno. Freezing sucked.”

Caiatl laughed aloud. “We began taking wagers on whether or not you would survive after your boots iced over. Winners took the front line.”

Freija grinned, remembering that Caiatl and one of her big psions stayed up front a lot. “I only froze twice,” she said. “Who’s the psion? Did they cheat? Can they cheat?”

“In certain ranges, she could indeed sense your expectations. You seemed to have a good grasp on your capacity.”

Freija beamed.

“Sunny?” Caiatl asked.

Freija retrieved the pouch on her belt and opened it face up to let Sunny decide if she wanted to fly around or not. Being bedridden wasn't so different from normal hiding, but it came with a sad sense of fragility.

“I have not seen your pouch before,” remarked Caiatl. “I am once again impressed with the love and talent of your Guardian. You are weak.”

“Yes,” agreed Sunny. “Freija’s holding me together.”

“Don't say that,” whispered Freija.

“I'm not dying,” Sunny said then. “I'm just really really tired.”

“Sometimes that's how dying feels,” Freija whispered.

“You're not dying,” Caiatl said to Freija. “Nor weak.”

Freija turned away, holding Sunny's pouch out for Caiatl to take. She tried to speak and couldn't for the sobs in her chest, and she had to take the time to fight them down, eventually winning.

“I wish I was,” she finally managed, voice strained to a low croak. “I want it to be me so bad. It's always me. It's supposed to be me. It's not supposed to be her.” She took several deep breaths and blinked the tears away. “They hurt my Sunny and I'm just fucking fine. I'm trying not to make her need to heal me if I can help it, take cover before the shields break and I've got an armor piece and a few mods that pull the Light for us.”

Caiatl watched her patiently as she grew agitated, heating up and squirming in place until she finally flew into an angry march, storming around the rocky glade. “I'm fine! It pisses me off! I feel like I failed but there was nothing to fail at which just makes me feel helpless! And I'm whining about this now when she’s hurt like that! Everything about this is fucking infuriating! I'm supposed to be the one hurt!”

“I am not convinced you are unharmed, Guardian. You do not remember the pain when she was struck?” Caiatl asked. "Your condition concerned everyone after your battle."

Freija's rapid pace faltered but didn't stop. “What? What are you talking about? I recovered fine, my helmet even called my fire for me once I got the Light together for it.”

“You do not show damage nor weakness, but you were also struck when she was,” Caiatl insisted, mindfully cradling the pouch in her hand. “Do not disregard your own state. Sunny cannot mind it for you right now.”

The Guardian watched the pouch, brow creased and lips pressed. “I assumed it was hitting her and I felt it,” she mumbled. “You think it hit me at the same time?”

“I think it was attacking your Light directly, and I am convinced that, as much as it can be so, you share the same Light. Her Light, wounded as it is, likely reflects your own. I feel this is likely leading to much of your emotional state. It is also affecting the heat you normally produce, and I am now certain that you are indeed wounded in the same way.”

“I'm leaking Light?” Freija checked her skin but didn't see anything notable.

“Your normal radiation is now uneven. I daresay the… cracks would line up with Sunny’s, were I to use infrared scans.”

Freija blinked at her. “Like obviously you're really smart and stuff and observant. I dunno why I would think you couldn't pick up on my Light.”

Her face plate twisted sideways. “I believe the Darkness is why you are not as badly injured as Sunny.” The smirk fell and she looked to the trembling Ghost in her hand. “Have you rested at all, Guardian? You say you allowed for Sunny to do as little as possible, but have you withdrawn from combat to recover?”

“Yeah,” she said, but Sunny vibrated in the pouch and she heard it. “No.”

“Hmph! Sunny.”

“Yes?”

“My army and the others will be here soon. You are both to rest until then."

She leveled her eyes on the Awoken woman slouching to a side. “Yes, ma'am,” she mumbled.

Caiatl stopped walking and considered the tiny drone in her pouch. It looked to be made of a modified first aid kit and several layers of padding. “You are quite small,” she observed in a tiny voice. “It feels strange that a figure so great in my mind would fit in my palm.”

“Figure so great?” asked Sunny

“I do not think of you as small because your Self isn't. Your shell is.”

“Oh, that.”

“Guardian.”

“Yeah?”

“I thank you for the care of my friend.” Caiatl presented the pouch on her open hand and let her lift it delicately, as though made of spun glass. Freija opened her mouth twice before she gave up on speaking and Caiatl gave her an understanding nod. She then looked to the Ghost. “Your legacy is already great.”

The heat coming off the Guardian's right shoulder could have scalded on contact, even through the armor.

“Thank you,” the pair said together, Freija choked and tight, Sunny weak and mumbling. The Titan managed to fight down the tears but she was going to cook the wildlife if she stayed in one place. Caiatl led her through the grasses, into the shade.

“Can you talk about something? Please? A good fight? Tell me something cool that Psion did, the one that believed in me, have we worked with her before?”

"Her name is Zxi.”

“Zick see… Zikci…. Zxi."

"You are quite good at that, Guardian."

"My first life was a polyglot. I think I know where a pond is, Sunny told me you guys are aquatic and I can wade pretty good in shallow water without going crazy."

"I am not certain how she knows that our species is aquatic. It has come up before."

"For Earth creatures, you would be. Your teeth are for fish and your size is best suited to rivers, with wide flat feet with claws to stay in mud," Sunny explained cheerfully.

"The evolutionary development is likely similar," Caiatl agreed. "You learned this from being nosy, yes?"

"Yes, but I was specifically looking for biology when I found it."

Chapter Text

Caiatl relaxed visibly when she saw Sunny bobbing merrily around Freija's head, and the Guardian smiled to see it. "I'll let you two talk, I'm gonna meditate."

"It is a relief to see you whole," Caiatl said. "It would have been a glorious death, but I am glad it was not."

Sunny swayed nervously and flipped. "It… kinda was."

Caiatl's skin lost its color, the normally rich, warm gray turning pallid and sickly.

Sunny wasn't sure if she messed up or not. "I'm sorry. I…it was a lot. I… I finally got to fight. For real. I channeled… not even our Light, but the Traveler's. It was too much to hold together afterwards, I couldn't hang on. And I died."

Caiatl still didn't say anything, so Sunny continued. "Cayde brought me back. He called me out of the Traveler with memories of my Guardian. I think I was looking for her in there, too. It felt like a dream. I missed her. So when he called me, I heard it. And he said he was glad he could finally do the right thing for once. And he helped me by letting me have… become his Light when he put it into the shell."

Caiatl finally heaved a long breath and said, "I am relieved to see you whole."

"Me, too!" cheered the Ghost. "I feel a little better about letting Freija die, that really was more of a relief than anything. I was so tired, and it hurt so much." Her voice softened and she lowered in the air, tilting down. "Freija said I could rest now, and I knew what she meant. And I… thought about it really hard. But holding on was so hard. So. I relaxed and let go and I fell into the Traveler with everyone else until I heard Cayde calling."

Caiatl grunted. "Once again, I admire your Guardian's dedication to you. I would not expect that from her."

"She knows how it feels to be on the brink of death better than most people."

"I am surprised your Guardian would be so willing to spend time away from you."

"She's only just out of hearing.”

"Ah. And still within sight."

"She… she's been okay. I've been okay. It's… been a lot."

"It has," agreed Caiatl distantly.

"You guys going to focus on Xivu Arath?"

"Indeed. I intend to take back my homeworld."

"You know we've got your back."

"And a formidable support you are indeed."

Sunny bounced happily. Caiatl watched her with a gentle peace in her brow, and she took off her helmet to place on a stump when she sat down.

"I will take a moment," she declared.

Only a faint wind moving the leaves of the trees filled the comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye," Sunny said. "I wish I could have, but I didn't have time."

"You fell in battle. It would be unreasonable to expect anything of the sort. I am sure your Guardian would see to it that I learned of your death. I am also sure I would need to force the tale out of her."

Sunny narrowed at Caiatl, who chortled. "If you believe I would allow your glorious death to go unsung simply to spare your Guardian tears, you are a fool. She will weep regardless and you deserve to be celebrated."

The Ghost couldn't answer. She could imagine Caiatl trying to comfort her Titan through trying to tell what happened. She wondered if Freija would blame herself. "Thank you, I guess."

"You are welcome. As it is, I am glad to hear the story directly from you. Tell me about the battle against the Witness."

Chapter Text

Freija left Caiatl and Sunny to their discussions, perching on the brick archway near the fire to watch it burn. The usually active, shifting Titan became still and fixed in moments, settling Sunny enough to let her out of sight.

In the grassy courtyard, they were not granted much privacy and they knew it, but the sincere discussion needn't be hidden.

Caiatl took her helmet off and placed it on the car rusting next to her and sat on the low wall. "Most of our celebrated days include invoking memories of our ancestors. That Guardians keep only specific events for the occasion was initially puzzling."

"Oh?" Sunny wheeled around and flew a circle around Caiatl.

"Many conversations have led me to understand. Guardians do not have ancestors to celebrate. Your deaths are always unexpected, and therefore always a tragic loss to each of you. You receive loss in grieving arms, rather than celebrate a glorious fall. It would be as celebrating a lost limb to invoke their names frequently.

"You celebrate, instead, life and victory. Many of your traditions include competitions and games, and it would be inappropriate to invoke such tales without appropriate cause.

"And," she said with a soft chortle, "eventually, you would collect too many stories to tell."

Sunny didn't really know what to say, so she didn't. Instead, she jetted around and ducked through the car and over the rocks and watched her friend and her Guardian.

"Valus Forge keeps his losses close. He regards them as lessons learned and his memory keeps their honor maintained," Caiatl observed. "He holds small vigils often, and will speak to his altars when he thinks no one can hear. It was easy to understand his reverence for this practice. Many seem to save their remembrances for this time of year to spare themselves the pain of constant recollection. Yours is too young for such experiences. What is her connection to this event?"

Sunny hadn't really considered it. She didn't forget the dead, but only a few people, Ghost, Guardian, or mortal, had much effect on her. "Freija just liked the fire at first. It's gotten a little deeper every year. Lately it's been me. Last year it was Amanda, and her parents and sisters and Sarah–herself. We held a small bonfire for them and I told her what I knew. You're right, though, the real… depth of this event was lost on her until then."

"Hmph."

"I didn't involve myself much until Freija was born," she admitted. "I would listen to stories, the few times I was around for it, but mostly I felt left out so I didn't hang around much. I do like the stories. They might still take turns around this fire if you wait around to listen."

"Hmph. Will you hear tales of the heroes of my past?"

"I'd love to! Can Freija listen?"

"If she pleases."

Chapter Text

It took a while for Sunny to realize that she was supposed to reach out to Caiatl. It helped that they were busy with literally everything except the Cabal, but it still felt rude to take so long to reach out.

Less than an hour passed between Sunny asking for audience and the request being granted for three time windows of her choice. She picked the one she was most certain wouldn't conflict with schedules and remembered why she preferred the Empress getting to choose meeting times. Freelancing for the Vanguard wasn't all that strict, and Sunny didn't have to worry about schedules being disrupted.

"I didn't realize I was supposed to make the next appointment," Sunny said as soon as Caiatl lumbered through the door of the parlor.

"I began to wonder. It would not be unlike you to miss the intended meanings when not specifically mentioned. I hesitated to reach out." She sat on her couch and placed a cup on the table next to her. A stand for her Hareball shell.

"We've been really busy," Sunny admitted, settling into place. "Which is kind of why I remembered that I was supposed to call you, because I wanted to tell you something and thought about how long it's been and then about… but I wanted to tell you something."

"Oh?"

"It's kind of silly, but I wanted to tell you that the gun you noticed she's so fond of, its kill count is over one hundred thousand, now."

Caiatl blinked at her, golden eyes wide as turned to look at the Ghost. "On a single weapon?"

"Yep."

"Twenty thousand in…"

"Six months by our measure."

"She works quickly," Caiatl rumbled. "I never doubt her, nor you, but I remain surprised."

Sunny danced in the air merrily. "I have a very powerful Guardian."

"Quite. And it's no labor to use the weapons with these powers?"

Sunny rolled her shell flaps in turn. "I feel the pull but we don't get tired. It makes her feel stronger, usually. We've learned lots of ways to cycle our Light back into herself."

Caiatl chortled. "I appreciate the way you said that," she said. "Do you have any interesting stories? I have heard many about this pit in Nessus. I would have yours."

"Well, there's the part where Freija started messing with things she shouldn't have been messing with," Sunny huffed. "She and Rise decided to go digging around down on Nessus and she has gotten crushed by this one stupid moving wall every other time she gets near it!"

Caiatl chortled and gave Sunny a short nod. "It is good to hear that you have returned to the field. I find Guardians are best cared for with much exercise."

The Ghost saw the smile, and the Uluran lost her step as she bit down the laugh. Sunny tried to keep it down and failed, finally fritzing into a giggle. "Yes, Lightbearers need their violent enrichment," she conceded. "If you just really want to call them pets."

"This was a joke." She grunted uncomfortably and shuffled slightly faster.

"What's wrong? I won't get mad… Well, I won't hold it against you, I am asking you to say it out loud."

Caiatl chortled quietly. "I have gathered that the relationships between Ghost and Guardian vary widely, and your explanations that I previously mistook for wandering and unspecific were simply inclusive and non-exhaustive. I have seen mentor and pupil, master and pet, guard and ward; and I have been unable to call you and yours anything but parent and child. I expect this to change as she matures, but as it has been, I do not think of your Guardian as your pet and never have. I do refer to children similarly as I do pets."

Sunny bobbed after her. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"I am still unsettled with… myself," she admitted softly, but she shrugged off the change in mood and straightened up. "I do have another question. What does your Guardian do when faced with Hydra? I have been collecting inspiration."

Sunny wheeled. "I can't imagine what it's like for you guys, that's got to be rough. When she's alone, we carry this rocket launcher that's pretty good at taking care of them, especially if we can start with a good lungful of Light. When we have Rise, mostly, run and keep it busy while she takes care of it. It usually doesn't take long."

"Rise. The sniper-hunter fireteammate?"

"Yep! She's way more interested in digging stuff up than Freija is, but Freija loves fieldwork and will follow Rise to some pretty deep lows." Sunny shuddered to remember the days spent crawling in Calus's psyche in the Leviathan. They eventually found the gun Rise was looking for and she didn't even like it.

"There is a story hiding in this sudden silence," teased Caiatl. "Will you share it?"

"Actually, I don't think you'll like it," the Ghost admitted, swaying. "It was tied into the stuff on the Leviathan."

Caiatl grunted. "I think you are right. Instead, I ask, are there many stories of this Rise leading Freija into danger?"

"Way too many."

"Choose one?"

Sunny wheeled and thought about it. "There was a rumor about some armor that could be specially modded in this one EDZ pit, and we got chased out of there so bad we had to find another Guardian to help."

Caiatl chortled. "Oh?"

"Like I said, Rise is the primary damage dealer, and even when Freija is on full offense, she's just not kitted to hurt like Rise is. So sometimes these rumors will have us in some deep trouble. Getting further into these guys' hovels can be like reaching the command ship– you got kicked all the way up here and now the real fun begins. So we had to run and get more help to kill this Captain down there."

Caiatl rumbled another laugh. "Just the Captain?"

"Yeah, actually. We did great until then and we could have done it but it just was easier to check a merc board." She thoughtfully bobbed and wheeled uncertainly. "Well, I say great. We had a hell of a time in this one part, we had to sparrow this huge span and we were blown up over and over…. And this ogre…"

"It sounds like quite an adventure."

"It was!"

Chapter Text

"Do they awaken knowing how to use their Light?"

"Kiiiiind of? Most wake up with some awareness of it, all of them are naturally stronger and faster than normal humans, but things like Freija's accidental barricade are unusual. From what I heard, before I found Freija, what I expected, was a slow growth from finding her Light and growing it into something she could learn to manipulate. That's what I understood to be normal."

"You sound annoyed. You are normally quite proud of this."

"Oh I'm proud. It really does just irritate me. And it goes back to something you said, where she's strong enough to get into real trouble before it catches up to her. She woke up knowing her barricade, she woke up knowing her grenades and her sunspots. I did have to teach her the hammer, she preferred keeping it in her fists. She still does."

"So your understanding of the typical experience was that a Guardian would begin with… you may use your Freija as an example. What did you expect her to do?"

"Well. Going by what she does now, I expected something like… oh, her thing where she heats up, I expected that to be where it started. And then I figured maybe her fiery punch, because that makes sense, to collect into your hands and push it into something else. I did expect the hammer to be hard, she did struggle with that like I expected, but her grenades only took a day to learn and two to master. And three to pick her favorite one. She's never used anything else."

"I believe I have borne witness. Waves of fire will burst forth over a short time. She frequently throws it at her feet as she leaps away. I have seen many burn at her touch. How do you believe it would manifest in others? The void and arc?"

"Oh, things like, causing sparks to jump or minor shocks for arc that grows into a thrown bolt that grows into a ball lightning. Void would probably start with…. I don't know. I'll have to ask someone else. I think Three? Our Hunter roommate."

"For some reason, I assumed you would board with your fireteam."

"Sometimes. Usually, in fact. But there's also a lot of cases where the Guardians will start with their fireteam and filter off or fight and split up, or will be a pair with a third assigned to theirs. Thomas had his first, Three got assigned to it, and he's apparently had third singles come and go over the years as they join found fireteams.

"There's also at least a few barracks that are occupied in name only, marked as belonging to people who are never there, are MIA, and a couple that got turned into shrines for the dead. Though at one point, there were so many of those that they had to create a memorial and open them back up."

"Interesting. I had not previously considered the living situation."

"General communal living space, pods with apartments in the barracks inside the walls. The lowest floors…. I'll have to show you at some point, a layout."

"Hmph."

"We've got a kitchen in ours, and a wash room. The kitchen is Thomas's work, half scrap and half cryptarch commissions. The washroom has a shower in it, but he said he had to get a few permits to put it and the water heater in. Freija's been tinkering with the kitchen little by little."

"Hmph. Do they use their Light in small ways around their homes? I have always wondered."

"Sometimes. Freija's learning how to use her hand as a burner as a way to focus her energy when she can't focus her mind. Thomas struggles with his Light, so he doesn't. I've seen more than a few people spot-weld, pull things from across the room. Things like that."

"Interesting."

Chapter Text

"When she is using the Light, what sensation does it cause within you?"

"Huh?"

"You have referred to it as a 'pull' before. When she uses her Light, she is channeling through you. In what way do you feel this?"

"Oh. Hm. Well, I call it a pull, or usually a tug, but it's.... like... can you imagine... like... a magnet? Only it works on you? I sound like Freija. But it isn't strong enough to pull you, it's just strong enough to know it's there?"

"I suppose a magnet would be analogous to the sensation of pulling. I would liken it to standing on a moving tank, I think."

"That sounds right."

"You say you can sense the alignment. Does the sensation change with the alignment? Or perhaps with the Darkness?"

"It does get weaker when she's Darkness-aligned, but other than that, not really? I... I might have her go into another room and meditate one day, and try making things to see if I can tell the difference?"

"That would be interesting."

Chapter Text

Banner being around for a long visit meant Sunny could easily make an appointment to see the Empress.

Caiatl met her in a flagship, in a window box overlooking a huge crowd of Cabal watching Iron Banner broadcasts on screens that took up the walls. The show was too messy to be anything but live feeds, probably raw footage directly from the drones, Sunny observed.

The fight was tight but this wasn't a particularly skilled bunch. Freija would eat these ones alive.

Caiatl sat up in her seat and Sunny turned toward her–

The massive fingers brushed Sunny's shell and she closed her hand, pinching a flap between fingers but missing the Ghost herself, who re-matted her shell together.

"I will catch you," Caiatl rumbled.

"Anyway," giggled the Ghost, wheeling wide and bouncing merrily, "I got Freija to help me answer the questions about feeling it, and I ran a small questionnaire amongst other Ghosts about what early days were like for everyone else."

"I see," Caiatl chortled. "After this match. I am quite interested in this one."

Sunny turned to watch with her. The arena was tiny, Sunny knew this one. A constant bloodbath with the only places to run being confusing and multi layered. The fight over Point B ended the lives of seven Guardians in ten seconds.

The angle was hard to pull off, but a Hunter in green and Knucklehead was managing smooth shots over cover so that they couldn't be shot back.

A Titan barreled forth and put up a purple shield while they took the point, able to shoot back at an enemy attempting to flank.

"It's a tight match," Sunny observed, seeing the score was only ten points apart.

"Better yet, they have exchanged the lead twice," Caiatl agreed. "The fights are quite fierce at this stage of their development, lacking the skills necessary for skirmishes and executions as quickly as the more capable warriors."

Another Titan cleared the way with a scout rifle, then marched up with an SMG and put her barricade down.

She lasted as long as the barricade did, using it to guard her back and unable to clear the other side of the field before it fell.

"This arena is new," Sunny said. "We need to do a few laps in one alone," she added. A few Guardians had begun whirling around in the narrow tunnels and its numerous openings. Six cameras were fixed into the tunnels and took over the screen in a moderately-coordinated mess when viewing.

Saladin's voice didn't get broadcast to the contestants when he growled, "If they tie, I'm going to make them start over."

"It's really weird to see this side of things," Sunny said aloud. "I can only watch Freija's helmet feed when we're in. We never really watch the broadcasts."

"Oh? Is she disinterested?" asked Caiatl.

"Every time we start to watch, she gives it up and goes to join in," Sunny giggled. "She's not as good as the ones we like to watch, but she's getting there."

"Mm," said Caiatl, obviously distracted.

The viewing room fell silent and even Sunny stopped talking when she turned to see the match. 148-148, a capped point or single kill would bring the win.

A and C belonged to Red, B to Blue, but A was being claimed as a magnificent firefight exploded over C, bullets and flying Light nearly blinding the recording drones.

The Guardian capping A succeeded, and the match went to Blue; the Cabal roared their adulation, air vibrating with the clamor of chest-beating and war cries.

Caiatl sat back in her seat and picked a drink from the selection of refreshments waiting for her. Her breath had grown deep and steady, as if preparing herself to fight, and try as she might to relax, a tension lingered in her spine. "I very much enjoy these games," Caiatl told Sunny with a broad smile. "It is a pity we may not play them similarly."

"Freija has nightmares about being gut shot," Sunny told the Empress, wondering how she'd respond.

"I do, too," Caiatl chortled. "That is a consequence of battle."

Fair enough.

"It is good to see you," Caiatl told the Ghost. "You collected answers?"

"First– New Light void-users apparently vary by class, which isn't like the other two Light types. Strand does it, too, but there's not any born Strand users. But the void– sometimes Hunters will make themselves or other people disappear, emit poison clouds or half-form explosive projectiles that detonate too fast; where Warlocks will teleport almost at random and Titans… apparently they're just walking gravitational anomalies."

Caiatl chuckled. "I see."

"Freija didn't really do anything like that," Sunny said then, wheeling once. "But, I had her meditate for me so I could describe the different feels– and void felt heavy just like that. She said it's like being the center of a gravity well. I almost missed Solar because I'm so used to it– I thought it would warm up but it didn't because she's just always warm, so the others felt cold instead. Arc was… sharp. Like the edge of a blade, only… inside. Kinda."

Caiatl grunted. "Interesting."

"I thought so," Sunny agreed. "I've never thought about it before. Or if I did, it was so long ago that I forgot. Freija probably didn't know how to do it when I did think about it enough to notice."

"Possible," Caiatl agreed.

A hush fell as another fight began.

Sunny could appreciate the screen layout. It was a base overlay of crucible data, similar to the fighters' helms

instead of the full show on the broadcasts. Displayed on the main screens, health meters and symbols and names in colors hovered over fighters, always visibly.

Smaller screens could be seen in the room, hand held and counter-mounted, featuring actual direct helmet feeds, stats and profiles, or preferred angles. It was a full blown spectacle.

"You guys really like Iron Banner, huh?"

"We do. We have simulated as we can. The gladiatorial pits we had were some of the most glorious battles any would see. Your lowered stakes, however, leads to an impressive variety of tactics that we may not employ; and many times the bloodshed. Objective-focused activities lead to suicidal behaviors which often lead to victory. A lone Guardian will stand ground against four others. Your Freija riled the crowd, long ago, holding a single point for much of the match." Caiatl smirked. "I recall quite the uproar, but I cannot remember the play."

Sunny wheeled happily. "I remember that match. We held C the whole thing, except once, when she left C alone for ten seconds to check on B, then had to turn around and steal it back. This Warlock with Crown of Tempests and a Hunter, I can't remember what they were wearing, they kept trying and Freija just held position. They met up after that match, they were good sports. Good fight."

"Indeed. I believe it was the loss and quick recovery. We Cabal have always enjoyed a quick counter or aggressive comeback."

Sunny giggled. "I bet you love the victories from behind, huh?"

"As much as any others. You will be hard pressed to find a Cabal who does not enjoy the entire activity."

Sunny giggled again. "We– well, other Tower dwellers, host crucible parties, sometimes, where they gather to watch it together. Do you guys do that?"

"This is such an event," Caiatl chortled, gesturing with an empty palm at her cheering soldiers. "Select Guardians have been chosen as favorites to the crowds, and I daresay there are some broadcasts of your Lord Shaxx's matches available here, with our Tower-Dwellers bringing the transmission data. It has not filled the void of our ancient violence, but it feeds the desires." She smirked. "They thought I would forbid him his role in these activities."

"I did, too," Sunny admitted. "I thought you were going to kill him and his Ghost, at first."

"He earned his survival in offering his life," Caiatl said with a waved hand. "Admirable, if foolish. I have not regretted that decision." She took a snack off her refreshment tray. "I have seen you and yours in these fights. Do you enjoy participating?"

Sunny bobbed an affirmative. "Sometimes she gets really hurt in bad ways and survives, but it's so much fun and she is always getting better."

"Indeed. Would you like notes on her performance?"

"No, thanks," Sunny said quickly. Caiatl or not, Freija hated to be told directly that she was doing something wrong."

"She still struggles to time her escapes," Caiatl chortled anyway. "She is also prone to poor positioning, but this is quickly improving."

"We knew about those," Sunny said. "When to run is hard to know because 'too early' bothers her."

"She is an excellent shot when she takes the time for it."

"We knew that, too."

Caiatl chortled again. "I see. Then her struggle is in mastering herself and her impatience."

Sunny flew up to drop several feel dramatically. "You have no idea."

Chapter Text

"You frequently refer to the healing as a process."

"It is."

"I have seen many bodies be reconstructed with the Light, but I have not borne witness to anything that looks... active. This expansion and wobble of Ghosts when resurrecting or healing is....?"

"I don't get it, what're you asking about it?"

"What do you experience? How much do you control of the damage you heal? How much do you learn about the damage you heal and the process by which it returns to its original shape? To what condition are you healing them, and do you get to decide? Can you be interrupted? When you are interrupted--"

"Whhooooaaa! Okay, stop there and I'll get to them as I can.

"Okay. First-- what do I experience? I... I decide to exert the energy, and then my flaps stretch out-- it's not really something I do on purpose, our pieces just float out like that when we're using our Light actively on our Guardian. I haven't tried moving them while I'm resurrecting her. I'm usually busy."

"Hmph."

"I can sort of control what's healed by focusing my attention on that part of her. I can do little bits like that in the crucible, sometimes, keep her from bleeding out. I have to be close to it. I don't get to pick the damage of that part, just that body part."

"I see."

"I learn everything. Any scans will give me all data, and all the data gives me pretty conclusive answers on what happened. I can tell the difference between a fast and slow break, what kinds of asphyxiation, so on. I don't know how much pain she was in, but I can usually guess. The stuff kind of goes back together, I couldn't tell you anything about which part is healing first or why."

"Hm."

"The condition I restore.... I... It's complicated. It's like an imprint they leave? Because they can change, they're not identical to who they were when they woke up, but the change has to be a big enough one to stick, I think. Freija got a tattoo."

"The sun."

"I don't get to decide what stuff heals how, just where and how long it takes me. I think it just goes from beginning to end, like a rapid healing process? So when I get interrupted, it stops right then, no matter what's hanging out. Were there more?"

"Many. I may need to collect more as well."

"Okay."

"Can you recognize poisons?"

"Yep."

"Can you stop the poison from killing them while it is still in their bodies?"

"Yep. Disease, too. Heal the damage as it's done, restore the original condition. There are some things that this doesn't work on but those are... pretty nasty."

"Does the act of healing or resurrecting leave you vulnerable?"

"Yes and no. Not a lot of moving around to do when you're busy like that. But we do make an even smaller target."

"When you reattach limbs, are you truly reattaching them or creating new ones?"

"If we have the limb and it's still kinda attached, we reattach. If it's completely removed, we can try to put the old one back on but it's easier just to make a new one than to wrestle with aligning everything."

"Hmph! And returning internal organs?"

"Disembowelment is best... just avoided, but so what happens, a lot of the time, is the guts hanging out dissolve, and their body closes up with these awful slurping noises, let me tell you, because the hole isn't putting the guts where they belong yet, it's just making the shell for the guts to move around in, so they grow new ones in there and everything shuffles around."

"Horrifying."

"I know."

"I suppose the same is true of all non-disintegrating damage suffered."

"Yep!"

"When you heal your Guardian from those states, do they feel relief?"

"Yeah. Usually. Sometimes they wish they were dead, but that was true before we started healing them most of the time."

"... Mmph. Have they killed themselves for this purpose?"

"Freija's never done it, but I've heard about it, some of them to fix things like brain damage or corrupted pathing in their neural system for Exos."

"Specifically to escape pain?"

"It doesn't happen enough to hear about it."

Chapter Text

"This event is, perhaps, the most baffling of Valus Forge's games."

What, Eruption?"

"Yes. Only occasionally does he remind me of my previous understandings of Guardians as spoiled children merely playing at war. This activity can only have been conceived of by a Guardian."

You've just never watched Team Scorched."

"You fail to understand my meaning."

What do you mean, then?"

"Success leads to death. It is practically inevitable due to the arenas themselves. One would kill the enemy team and be unable to hunt them back down in such a short time. The issue is further worsened by the resurrection points being dictated by distance from the action."

Oh...."

"Yes."

"Boom. Heh heh heh heh."

"And that."

That is probably the most Titan thing I've ever heard him do with my own auditory sensors, yeah."

Chapter Text

"This activity is far more sensible."

"Well yeah."

"One of your matches has been broadcast to the larger room. You lost, but your Guardian captured twice as many points as either team. She would frequently die to capture a point, and this game is one of the few that rewards that behavior."

"Yeah, she's pretty good at that."