[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/254979692/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] [spoiler]This story contains a mention of a character from foxburton99’s story, Legend Untold. Click [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/212710816/0/0]here[/url] to visit the Legend Untold Table of Contents.[/spoiler] I can’t stop staring at the Guardians. They‘ve hardly moved or spoken this whole trip, limiting themselves to watching over our work. Even now they sit in silence at the back of the City Hawk’s hold. But each has an air of seriousness and professionalism that makes it clear they‘re all weathered veterans. As a Tower Shipwright I’ve been close to Guardians often, but I’ve never had an escort before. Everyone who works in the Tower knows a fireteam of even two Guardians can mean bad news. There are four in our escort. A Warlock, two Titans -one large and the other small-, and a Huntress. In all my years I have never seen four Guardians sent on one mission, especially not for something as trivial as a jumpship reclamation. I glance over my shoulder to the cockpit as the engines roar to life. It’s been a short day and the sun is still high in the sky, though a layer of clouds hides it from sight and pumps out a concealing mask of snow. There hadn’t been much to salvage from the mangled wreckage of a jumpship the Vanguard scouts had discovered. The miserable weather and unproductive day have lowered all our spirits a little, but there’s something else that has us all on edge; the reason why we have a Guardian escort. Attacks on convoys like ours have become more frequent recently. The Fallen House of Winter is conducting raids, and rumor has it their Kell is leading them in person. I’ve heard enough tales to know to be scared. It’s taken a toll on the City, resulting in us all being crammed into one Hawk. I scan the faces of my fellow Shipwright -my close friend, Elta- and the mechanic sitting across from me as we take off. They don’t seem to be as anxious as I am, but I’m sure they’re thinking of the Fallen, too. I look back to the Guardians. I want to say something to them, but no words come to me. Luckily, Elta decides to break the silence. “Where’s your ships?” She asks the Guardians. All four Guardians jolt a little at the sudden sound of her voice. I hadn’t realized how tense they were. I suppose even deathless supernatural warriors can get nervous. “Whaddaya mean?” The Huntress asks, shifting uncomfortably. Elta twists in her seat to face them, “Shouldn’t y’all be escortin’ us in your own jumpships? Won’t be much help sittin’ in here with us, right?” I nod in agreement, though I’m reluctant to join the conversation. I’ve been fighting for years to break the stereotype that Shipwrights only think about jumpships, but Elta often takes it upon herself to embody the stereotype. “I got shot down by a Skiff a few days ago,” the smaller Titan answers, “Still getting repairs.” The larger Titan shifts in his seat, drawing attention to himself, then mutters ashamedly, “I lost mine in a bet.” “Wow,” the mechanic laughs amicably, “That’s why you’re supposed to save the betting for the Hunters, right?” The Titan’s expression hardens, “I lost it to a Warlock. Little smart aleck named Fehri; runs gambling tournaments in the Tower behind the Vanguard’s back. Robbed me an’ three Hunters blind. Then he dressed my ship up like a freakin’ disco ball!” Everyone stares at the Titan. I have no idea how to react. After a few seconds of silence the Warlock speaks. “I rammed mine into a Cabal forward operations outpost a couple days ago,” she smiles, casually brushing her hair behind her ear, “Wrecked a good chunk of the base and trashed my ship beyond repair.” Now we stare at her, even more bewildered than before. “You [i]what?[/i]” The smaller Titan asks. “Why?!” Elta presses. The Warlock shrugs, “I wanted to try out Cabal tactics, and see how they’d react.” “When have the Cabal [i]ever[/i] done that?!” The larger Titan questions. “That‘s dumb, even for Cabal,” the smaller Titan adds. The Warlock shrugs again and leans back into her seat, “Whatever.” “You Warlocks are nuts,” the smaller Titan moans, putting his head in his hands, “Wait, how did you even get out of-“ “What about you?” The mechanic inquires. We all look to the Huntress, who has sunk into the corner of her seat as if trying to make herself invisible -which I’ve heard some Hunters can actually do. “I, um,” she stammers, “I…saw everyone gettin’ in this ship and, um, kinda thought…that I was supposed to get in, too.” The large Titan barks a booming laugh. The Huntress nearly curls up into a ball, pulling her hood over her face to hide her embarrassment. “No worries!” The Titan encourages, roughly patting her shoulder, “We’d rather have your company in here with us.” I close my eyes and let out a long sigh, relaxing a little. Guardians are strange, but it’s reassuring to have them around. When I open my eyes the Warlock is staring straight at me. I stiffen as I meet her piercing gaze. She studies me for a moment, then her face lights up with a wide grin, “I’m Elena.” “Uh,” I stutter, flustered, “Sal.” “Hendal,” the smaller Titan says. “Elta,” Elta chirps. “Javier,” the mechanic says. “Olly, nice to meet ya,” the large Titan greets. “Beladona,” the Huntress mumbles. Seeing my chance, I work up the guts to speak, and naturally ask the dumbest question possible, “Why’d we get such a big escort?” All heads turn to face me and I duck my head down in embarrassment. Now I’m the center of attention. The cabin is quiet for a few agonizing seconds, then Elena replies, “We volunteered.” The answer surprises me; I had expected them to be a Vanguard Fireteam. I look up to Elena, “Why?” She tilts her head, somehow seeming to spark like an angry flame for a moment, “We’re after Draksis.” The mood immediately darkens in the cabin at the mention of the Winter Kell’s name. Each of the Guardians grimaces. “So he has been leading the raids?” Javier asks hesitantly. “Yeah,” Hendal nods, “That’s him.” “You after the bounty?” Elta inquires. The question is a little insensitive, but it’s a fair thing to ask for Guardians, who are known for seeking glory and riches on occasion. We’d all heard that the Hunter Vanguard had personally upped the bounty on Draksis. Hendal’s teeth clack as he shuts his mouth, averting his gaze. Olly curls his fists in his lap. Elena squeezes her eyes shut. Beladona is the first to answer. “He murdered my friends,” the Huntress hisses, her meekness overcome in a moment of rage. The other Guardians remain silent, but I don’t need to ask to know they have the same motivation. Elta takes a deep breath and delicately attempts to steer towards a different subject, “So…do y’all know each other?” “Not really…” Olly heaves a heavy sigh, “Just met Bela. This is my third time volunteering as an escort. Hendal here joined in on my last one; that was his first and when we met. And Elena-” “This is my ninth escort,” Elena finishes, busying herself with adjusting her robes under the safety harness of her seat, “I’ve been hunting him for months now.” “Sounds like you really want to get that monster,” Javier observes. Elena pauses thoughtfully, then quotes Beladona word for word, “He murdered my friends.” “You know,” Hendal interjects, dragging out the words bitterly, “They call him the Ruthless Kell. He’s not like the other Kells.” I swallow hard, “How’s that?” “Other Kells send their Houses to kill you,” Hendal replies, then scowls at the ceiling, “Draksis comes to kill you himself.” As if on cue, the City Hawk’s wing explodes.