Destiny 2

A Murder of…

destiny2 9 - A Murder of...
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Been a long while, but I decided to do a piece celebrating everyone's favorite hated character just in time for BL. As always, criticism is loved beyond just a downvote, and thank you for your time!

Both gloved fists tightened, one around the grip of an overused auto-rifle and the other around a datapad. There was an incredible stillness to the room even if half the occupants were breathing. Somewhere shots rang out. They always rang out in the Cosmodrome, oftentimes filling the niche of sporadic raindrops on a tin roof. A comms radio started to flare to life, cutting into the silence. “This is Shaw Han; reports of fire in-”

“Cut the feed.” The voice was like gravel normally, gritty to the point of being problematic for conversation, but this was different. He was on edge, speaking through clamped jaws. Only his Ghost would be able to make out the mumble of sounds.

“This is what you’ve been doing? Sitting around talking into a goddamn mic?”

The other still sat, sprawled on the ground where he had been unceremoniously thrown. His helmet had been torn off by the speaker and tossed aside, so two golden, faintly glowing eyes tried to burn holes into his assailant as he spoke, “What do you care?” Quiet and biting, standard response since, well, since ever he could remember.

“And how did you even get to Earth? Pick up a jumpship from the Awoken?” The gravel-voiced man only paused for a second before adding, “No, shut up. I don’t care.” He aimed the gun at the other. “No, I said shut it. Move another muscle and I’ll put you back in your grave.”

There was another tense moment as the man tried to decide what to do with the revelation on the floor in front of him. Finally, he pressed a button on the datapad out of morbid curiosity. A chipper voice played out, “Log number one! Okay, so go ahead and-”

“No, Ghost, I’m not doing this; just turn it off.”

“Guardian, records indicate that speaking one’s mind and keeping it for future insight has often helped individuals come to terms with difficult times.”

“Ghost! Turn it off now and don’t call me that…”

“I’ll turn it off, but what should I call you?”

“… I… I don’t know…”

Gravel-voice shuddered and muttered, “You’ve got to be shitting me; you started a diary? First thing after murdering-”

The man on the floor, golden eyes blazing and blue skin shimmering, sat up some and yelled, “I haven’t killed anyone!”

Five shots rang out blinding fast, bullets all passing within mere inches of the Awoken’s face. It was purposeful though; the weapon had a certain ease to it and whoever the man was had been using it for quite some time. He had nothing more to say; instead, he pressed a few more buttons on the datapad, moving midway through another entry.

“- didn’t know who you were before. Why didn’t you say more to them?”

“Because they’d realize it at some point and these gun-toting zombies never stay alone for long.”

“You’re one of them though; I wouldn’t speak so negatively about your lightborn brothers and sisters.”

“I’m not one of them though and you know it. Anyone who knows what he did apparently wants to finish the job the moment they realize I’ve got the same face.”

“…”

“Why did they call you Pulled Pork?”

“I’ve known Miss Nkechi Thirty-Three since she was Twenty-Nine. Of course, she doesn’t remember that. I think the last she’d remember was…The Tangled Shore?”

“Why wouldn’t she remem— Exo, right?”

“Correct! See? Some of it is sticking.”

The man angrily shut off the device and yelled, “This is it? You murder Cayde-6, die, and then start the most worthless memoire since the Golden Age?” He leveled the gun at the Awoken again, seriously considering ending the conversation then and there. That would be letting him off too easy though. “You know, I get it. I get why you’d kill Cayde. When a man wants to fuck his sister that badly, I’m sure you’d do anything.”

He paused, expecting a vicious attack from the one on the floor, but it never came. Instead, he was rewarded with a blank stare as if the insult was completely beyond him. The Awoken replied flatly, “Uldren did have a sister, didn’t he? I keep forgetting that and yet…” His eyes seemed far away for a moment as he mumbled, “I think she knows.”

The attacker let out a growl and barked over the other, “Pork, I know you’re hiding; what I want to know is why in the Traveler’s name you’d choose this scum to bring back.”

Pulled Pork quietly said without appearing, “I’ll have you know my Guardian’s readings were beyond optimal for resurrection. Past involvements aren’t taken into account; for all you know, you helped initiate the Collapse in your past life.”

The man apparently took offense, readying the gun and starting to squeeze down on that trigger. The Awoken threw up his hand and yelled, “Wait! Wait… You really want to know why?”

“I think we all do.” There was an angry sneer behind the deep words.

“Fine, just…” The Awoken sighed and sounded defeated. “Go to entry 27; play it from the beginning.”

The man pressed a few buttons on the datapad again to start the requested entry. Pulled Pork’s voice filled the room, “Log number twenty-seven! Guardian, today I think we should talk about channeling your Light into a more powerful form.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, fine… Unnamed individual that I am eternally bound to out of duty and kinship is a bit unwieldy, but it's certainly a more apt description. I still think we should talk about supers.”

The gravel cut in and the recording was paused, “Why the hell would I care about this?”

“Just… You want to know? You’re going to have to trust me.”

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The man growled back, “Never,” and yet he still pressed the play button again, looking at the datapad hopeful for some revelation.

“Yeah, might be about time for that Ghost. I’ve had enough magic thrown at me; it’d be nice to have some as well.”

“Good news then! Thanks to a bit of foresight, I’ve been storing excess energy from the Traveler all day. If you were to focus your energy into a form you find fitting, you should be able to activate it. Would you like me to go over the documented variants of colloquially named supers?”

“No, I know what I need.”

The recording continued playing. The sound of the Awoken charging and releasing Light into a super played out, but something was wrong with the audio. Why would it play so much louder and in stereo? The gravel-voice man looked up from the datapad and attempted to yell, but it was already too late. The Awoken on the ground had channeled his light simultaneously with the recording and was then holding a gun made of pure solar energy. One shot rang out and where once there was a gravel-voiced man, there was only ash.

Stillness returned to the room for a fleeting second, that is until a blue light filled the space, pulsing with the Traveler’s Light. The Awoken jumped off the ground and shouted, “Oh no you don’t!” He had become too used to dealing with these Light-infused zombies. A quick hand in a pouch produced a small burlap bag. It was quickly thrown over the other man’s Ghost and the Awoken tied it off. Another hand replaced his helmet and darted for the datapad, pocketing it in a flash.

Pulled Pork materialized beside him as the man ran out of the building into the fresh air, making sure the Ghost was too far to resurrect it’s fallen charge. Pork chimed in, “Well, I think that went much better than it could have; though, Guardian on Guardian violence really seems unnecessary outside of the Crucible.”

“Tell that to the guy who sucker-punched me with the back end of a Gnawing Hunger.”

“Fair, though, no blame was meant; it’s just… Regrettable.”

The captured Ghost yelled out, “What’s regrettable is what we’re going to do once I pull my Guardian back together!”

The Awoken rolled his eyes and called his Sparrow with a mental command. The light speeder materialized underneath him and off he rode through rusted out cars, two Ghosts in tow. A few minutes passed before he commented over the rush of wind, “Should be far enough that you won’t follow. Fly home, little gnat.” He then unceremoniously dropped the sack, letting the captive Ghost figure out how to escape and get to its ashen Guardian.

Pulled Pork spoke directly to the Guardian’s mind, making conversation at top speed possible, “You know, it's rather big of you to let him and others alive considering what they hope to do to you.”

The Awoken hollered back over the engine. “Everyone already wants me dead thanks to Uldren; I don’t need to add fuel to the flame, Pork.”

The Ghost was hidden away, but it's chipper tone peaked higher at the name, “Oh? So you’re going to use it?”

“Might as well. Seems like every Guardian knows you as it, so what’s the point in fighting? Still can’t believe no one told you why.”

Pulled Pork’s constant optimism wasn’t swayed though, “Not every moniker needs a meaning; most Ghosts are never given a name.”

The Awoken continued zigzagging through the rubble of past generations and unfortunately was falling for his Ghost’s routine. Pork was so impossibly pleasant that it was hard to stay silent on it. “Know any others with names?”

“Just one truth be told; Sagira. Quite the firecracker that one; sad that I haven’t seen her in… Oh, must be almost a century. Traveler… Now there’s a Guardian you’d actually like.”

They pulled in a quieter spot, far from the gunshots and the peering eyes of supposed heroes. The Awoken cocked his head to the side and retorted, “Must be a right bastard if you think I’ll enjoy a Guardian.”

Pork reappeared next to the man and equally tilted in though. “Hm, I wouldn’t use that as a description, but it's not wrong either. Singularity focused, exiled from the Last City, never listens to mentors or peers, and has about as many friends as you do.”

“Oh? So just the Ghost?”

“I truly am impressed Sagira can deal with Osiris, truth be told.”

There was a long pause between them again. When the Awoken finally spoke, his voice sounded tight, as if he was forcing the thought and the words, “What’re the last known coordinates for Osiris?”

Pork’s single eye went wider and it could barely contain itself, “You want to… I mean, normally it would be Mercury, Infinite Forest to be exact, but ever since…” The Ghost paused, unable to recount the recent tragedies. “I can start a system sweep.”

“Yeah, just let me know. Maybe an outsider to outsider conversation will work.”

The Ghost started doing a scan but quickly stopped. “Wait, no it won’t.”

“Why not?”

“What’re you going to do? Walk up and say Hi I’m not-Uldren and not-Guardian; nice to meet you? It certainly doesn’t make for conversation.”

The Awoken sighed heavily and hung his head. He wanted to yell at the Ghost. He wanted to scream at the whole damn planet and system. He wanted to break into the Last City only to berate the Traveler for picking him. He wanted to- He started chuckling softly as he looked up.

He scanned the horizon. Broken cars, debris, rubble, destitution. All horrible on the tongue. Then rather than seeing, he heard a single caw in the distance.

“Crow.”

Pulled Pork tilted even more and said, “Are you okay Guardian? Do I need to do a bioscan?”

“I’m Crow.”

There was a pause. “Why?”

Crow stared at his companion for a moment before saying, “Start the system scan; find out if this Osiris character got off Mercury.”

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