Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Efrideet—? Efrideet, wake up," her Ghost chirped and nudged her from her rest. "Air traffic control is trying to get a hold of you."

She groaned and wiped the sleep from her eyes. She'd been having a pleasant dream, bow-hunting by horseback at the foot of Felwinter Peak with Gheleon and Radegast. The crispness of the winter air had been so vivid in her dream, and she realized from the chill in her room that the heater must have quit in the night.

"I was having a good dream," she grumbled.

"I'm sorry." Ghost twitched. "Aparajita says it's a vessel with a Reef callsign. They're in a holding pattern, waiting for the go-ahead to land."

She asked her Ghost to patch her through as she staggered to her feet and began pulling on layers of clothing. "Give them the signal to land. I'll be at the spaceport soon."

Efrideet gathered her cloak around her as she crunched across the permafrost. Even if her body had come to adapt to the thin atmosphere, the cold still made her wince. She felt dual pangs of annoyance and regret that she could not be back in bed, comfortable and warm, and dreaming of galloping beside magnificent mountain vistas with her long-lost friends.

She had expected to see a galleon or personal jumpship. She was taken aback to find a spindly long-haul vessel the size of a fallen skiff making a slow approach overhead, the bass tone of its engines rumbling through her chest and rattling the surrounding dwellings badly enough that windows threatened to shatter.

Aparajita-4 joined Efrideet outside the control station, mechanical hands bundled under her shawl, waiting in silence as the ship docked. The disturbance from the low flyby had drawn others from their homes and they gathered around to watch.

In the distance, two figures disembarked to the tarmac. One was entirely shrouded in loose, dark clothing. The other wore the bodysuit of the Reef corsairs overlaid with white plating, loose cloak draped atop in an approximation of cold weather gear. Dread settled in the pit of Efrideet's stomach when she thought of the Awoken refugees who had washed up on the Tuonela Plains in the aftermath of the Battle of Saturn. Defectors of the Taken War, who had been robbed of everything but the memories of the terror they had fled. Though most had left to resettle in the Reef, a few remained here in Tuonela. Their stories haunted her.

She couldn't resolve their features in the predawn light, just the faint glow of blue and green eyes and the flicker of Awoken skin. As they drew near, whispers stirred — Queen and Mara? and didn't she die — ? and I told you she didn't.

"I am Queen Mara Sov of the Reef," spoke the lead woman as she approached. The murmurs grew as incessant as the roar of the engines. "And my colleague, Eris Morn, Crota's Bane."

"What business have you got here?" Efrideet asked, elevating her voice above and putting herself between the ever-growing crowd and the two travelers.

"We are on the trail of a monster," said Eris, stepping from behind Mara. "We come asking for your help."

The community and their visitors gathered inside the small temple that served as an unofficial town hall and meeting center. Tuonela was no stranger to passing travelers on the hunt for all the strange spoils of the outer solar system; ancient curios and lost technology of the golden age and creatures of the Darkness who dared not incur into the Light-touched parts of Sol.

These particular visitors were unusual in their status. Generally, the sort they encountered were Guardians who'd run low on thrills and turned their sights on uncharted territory. Drifters who had little for them in inner Sol, and little to lose. To be sitting with the presumed-dead monarch of the Reef and one of the most infamous Guardians in recent history felt somewhat unreal.

"Be civil," Aparajita attempted to settle the gathering, "Let our guests speak. There will be time for questions later."

The voices dissipated into silence. Eris stood.

"Forgive our sparing detail. Information is power, but in this case it will serve only to empower our enemy. I must be cautious about what I reveal."

Incredulous murmurs spread as the audience considered her caveat.

"We are hunting a powerful ascendant hive. In our travels through the outer system, we have found several artifacts which are of use in unlocking her secrets. Only through understanding will we topple her."

The three-eyed Guardian summoned a lick of soulfire and there was a startled chatter through the crowd. From it, she manifested the shape of a column covered in hive glyphs.

Efrideet's heart sank. She exchanged a short glance with Aparajita, who looked at her pleadingly.

"Your settlement is renowned for its work studying and documenting the territories at the edge of Sol," Eris continued. "Perhaps your scouts have information on the whereabouts of others?"

Some shook their heads 'no'. Low conversation bubbled among groups of two and three, while others were more direct: "What right have you got asking us to aid you in your fight?" asked one man, while a woman piped up with "Why do you expect us to just trust you?"

The dogged resolution that had been on Eris' face wavered. Mara spoke next. "With respect, we are working to spare Sol from the likes of another Oryx."

"By sacrificing us all and disappearing?" shouted an Awoken woman, fire in her eyes. She'd worn the same look on her face when she had arrived here with nothing but a tattered Corsair's uniform and a stolen jumpship to her name. Raucous babble erupted among the audience, with some joining in to jeer about how they would not be led into another intractable war against a power they had no hope of fighting, and others offering counter-arguments, pleas to hear out their guests.

Debate about whether to get involved in the affairs of Sol was nothing new for the residents of Tuonela. The mix of Lightbearers, spacers and Reef expats meant for a powerful, often-contradictory mix of feelings about interventionism. But Efrideet felt uncomfortable at how heated this particular discussion — if it could be called such at this point — had become. She ordered them to show their guests the respectfulness that was expected of their residents of their colony, and asked them all to leave.

That evening, she approached the two visitors. "May we speak privately?"

"I apologize for earlier," Efrideet said, as she fixed a pot of tea for herself and her guests. A century on the outskirts of the known universe had sloughed away her regard for titles, but not her sense of courtesy.

"Your pacifists are not very peaceful," Mara quipped, setting aside her data pad.

"We rarely are. People here have seen more fighting and death than just about anyone else. They have … strong feelings about participating in anything that could lead to more conflict. Even if it's just providing intel."

Perhaps chief among them Efrideet. So many of her friends had died in the Dark Ages, before the Iron Lords had brought a modicum of civility to the lawless wilds. Her entire family, save Lord Saladin, had perished in the battle to retake Site 6. It was unsustainable. She had lost too much, she had needed to find another way.

Mara gave a mirthless smile. "Perhaps if the request had come from anyone else. Cruel whispers follow Eris and myself."

She knew less about that one, but would be lying if she said she hadn't heard at least some of them. No one who escaped the Reef had much admiration for Mara, and were quick to vent their frustrations about her leadership and the rudderless state in which she'd left the Awoken territories. Even if she was an ally to the Tower, Eris Morn was a shadowy figure of legend. Rude rumors circulated about loyalty to the hive. That she'd suffered compromise in the Hellmouth, had not escaped but rather was released as a spy. Efrideet never really believed it, not if Vanguard approved of her. But it had undoubtedly shaded the opinions of some of her peers.

Eris ranged around the small office, examining shelves filled with books and keepsakes. Ghost or not, she acted with the unmistakable restlessness of a hunter.

She paused at a shard of ahamkara bone, tied as a pendant on a long strip of leather. "Is this from the Great Hunt?"

"Mhm," Efrideet responded, pouring out cups for her guests. "Luckiest shot of my whole life."

"Tell me?"

How fortunate for Eris that she suffered from that other peculiar hunter need: to brag about exploits in the field. She described the massive wyrm, the blazes of flame as Saladin had charged it, battle-axe drawn, grinning ear-to-ear. (She hadn't needed to see his face to recognize his smile. She knew it well enough from his voice. She'd never heard it again after he escaped the Plaguelands). Smoke and the repressive Venusian air choking her as she'd leveled her sights on its scaled head as it plunged toward her fellow Iron Lord, the recoil of the stock against her shoulder as the heavy sniper unleashed the killing blow —

She was glad for Eris' distraction and Mara's indifference when she overfilled the teacup.

"I was there, too, on Ishtar Sink. With Ikora Rey. With Wei Ning . . ." Her deadpan tone took on a note of melancholy as she trailed off to silence. She cleared her throat, then spoke with a more subdued tone than before. "I'm surprised we never crossed paths."

"It was a long time ago. Would either of us remember if we had?"

It was only after she said it, and Eris went quiet, that she realized she might have touched a raw nerve.

"Eris?"

She swung around and looked at Efrideet. Though she didn't share their particular prejudice, it wasn't hard for her to understand why some of her comrades were less than trusting of Eris. With or without Mara, it would be hard to sell them on the idea of an ally using the enemy's tools. Particularly when that ally wore the face of the enemy.

"I know you only told us part of the story. Can you at least tell me the rest?"

"What do you know of Savathun?"

The name tugged at threads of recognition in Efrideet's mind, bringing back the memory of dusty translated tomes and cryptic VanNet newswires. Owing to Tuonela's place on the precipice of darkness and its inhabitants lack of combat-readiness, she kept herself apprised of the major known threats. Since she did not live as a predator, she assumed the role of prey, eyes always on the horizon, ears always pricked.

Still, she knew little of the remaining hive gods. "Oryx's sister. God of lies. Disappeared millennia ago . . .

"Traveler's crack, Eris! Don't tell me that's who you're after."

"We have no choice," Eris responded. "Savathun has devised a way to derive tribute from misunderstanding. If we do not act quickly, she may become too powerful to stop."

"Are we in danger?"

"We will be," Mara warned.

"Is she arriving with a fleet? An army?"

"Worse: her tricks. She means to confuse and demoralize. The chaos she has sown in the Dreaming City is a prelude to what's in store for the rest of the system if she is left unchecked."

"She's already begun to infect the minds of Guardian and Lightless alike with her song," Eris interjected.

Efrideet felt herself go clammy with dread.

Mara noticed her reaction. "Is something the matter?"

Eris' eyes narrowed. "Lady Efrideet? What have you heard?"

"I — I don't know," Unease gnawed at Efrideet's gut, and not only because she remembered the countless times the Iron Lords had been called upon to right wrongs. The other occasions that they'd taken it upon themselves to fix problems, or simply make the world a better place. Their penchant for doing the right thing had, in the end, gotten all but two of them killed.

But she remembered all the good that they had accomplished before the end, and could not help but entertain the idea of helping. Even if it put her at risk. Even if it threatened all of them.

The study had become claustrophobic, stifling. She'd come here to get answers from the guests, but found herself interrogated instead. She rose to her feet and gestured at the door. "I need to think about some things."

"Take as much time as you need, Efrideet. We will wait for your answer."

Efrideet often found herself retreading old ground in her dreams. Her rebirth in the Saharan Desert, her time wandering the Mediterranean coast as she trekked northward toward the larger Guardian settlements of Old Russia. (It was on this journey that she had gotten her name; a name for fierce spirits of the dead, a name which her Ghost had said suited her.) Being with her loved ones at Felwinter Peak. The Plaguelands, and though she had never been there herself, the tumorous depths of the SIVA replication complex. She'd never seen it with her own eyes, but her brain had constructed its own terrible pictures of it.

These days, she found her dreaming mind revisiting a more recent journey to a little planetoid whose name had been lost to time. There was no darkness like the worlds of the Kuiper Belt, where the sun was a bright, distant pinprick and the rocky landscape around her was as black as a moonless night.

It wasn't often that Efrideet volunteered for off-world missions. She wasn't too proud to admit life on Light-touched worlds had spoiled her badly, and she regarded the space past Neptune unsuitable for anyone, mortal or guardian. That, and the lingering wariness about putting her nose where it should not be. She felt a wave of nausea as she falsely-remembered the SIVA chamber.

But odd reports had come from explorers passing through Tuonela, and Efrideet had felt a duty to investigate the stories for herself.

In real life, she had made the trip with Aparajita-4. Sometimes she joined her in the dream and sometimes she did not. Tonight, she found herself alone, scuttling over loose soil with careful, quiet steps. It had been so long since she had summoned her arc knife, and yet it felt intimately comfortable in her grip, a friend's hand in her own.

The rocky debris fields gave way to deep furrows in the earth. Though she could not see where she was going, her feet carried her safely down the steep run.

The threatening glow ahead told her that she'd found the right place. She paused for a moment, used her hunter's wiles to go invisible before moving forward. If there were enemies here, she'd at least be able to retreat unnoticed.

No one in sight as she approached, crouched and cloaked, arc blade glistening invisibly in her hand. Just a crooked column, looking more biological than architectural, cracked through the middle and bleeding sickly green light. Hive glyphs shone faintly all over.

And then the strangest part, which always happened in the dream as it had happened in reality. The ahamkara bone necklace, tucked beneath the chestplate of her armor as talisman and insurance policy, had drowned out all the sound around her, the hum of her suit's life support systems, her pounding heartbeat and heavy breath lost beneath its voice. She had heard it whisper and bargain and scream, but she had never before heard it sing.

When she had been on this dark nameless world in real life, she had felt a shock of terror, a flight response that she could only describe as primal. She had clasped Aparajita's wrist in her grip and pulled her away like she could outrun the melody. But in the dream, she was beckoned by it. Found herself drawn to the column, her hands breaking it apart like brittle, decayed bone, warm soulfire and ichor oozing in her hands.

She woke up the same as she always did, heart thumping, tune looping in her head.

She wondered if she had, however inadvertently, already involved Tuonela in Savathun's plans.

"Is this the right thing to do?" Efrideet asked her Ghost, as she climbed aboard Mara's ship.

"Beats me." She appreciated his honesty, even if it didn't make her more certain about her decision. "If you think it's serious enough to go against the others, it probably is."

Efrideet was staggered by both the scale and technology of the vessel, as well as the sheer amount of cargo aboard it. Every open space seemed occupied by something; crates of rations were stacked aside cases of weapons and ammunition. Eris and Mara must have anticipated a very long journey, and certainly not one of peace. Yet she found herself compelled to contribute to their mission.

She followed the sound of steps and voices down the tightly-packed halls. The two women conspired around a projection of the Kuiper Belt.

"Your decision?" Eris asked, turning away from the shimmering blue grid of points and orbital projections.

"You didn't get any of this from me." She gestured at her Ghost to transmit the coordinates to the ship's nav system, and he chirped in affirmation.

"You've done the right thing," Mara said, a tone of superiority in her voice that turned Efrideet's stomach, a tone like she knew all along that they would get what they wanted. Efrideet hated being a pawn, but it was safer to be Mara's than Savathun's.

Still, as she watched the black ship disappear into the blue haze of the Tritonian atmosphere, she hoped that it was the right choice.