Name: Mk 17. Race: Sweeper Bot. Subclass: The right handed brisk sweep. Description: Grey and white plating, stainless steel smooth polished face. He has green eye lenses. Bio: Made 6 years after the tower was built and being a Mk 17 all the initial bugs and faults had been ironed out of sweeper bots by then. He always thought his life had been rather mundane and eventless. He looked upon human sweepers with pity. They merely adopted the broom, he was born in it, molded by it. His biggest event during his life as a sweeper bot was after he swept the whole tower 4 times in 34 minutes. After Cayde-6 then took a leak in the corner of the gunsmiths kaosk (the oil stain was terrible) he swept so hard he wore a 4 inch deep, 17 inch wide hole in the tower floor. After this day he received a 228% sweep speed nerf and they removed 7 pistons from each arm. This lead to him feeling very inadequate, gave him anxiety issues and he suffers a great shyness. Since the “Festival of the Dead” he has been sick of all the paper scraps and raisins that have been thrown around the tower that he has to sweep up. He is never given a “thank you” or “good job, mk 17”, he feels very undervalued but is so shy he will never complain about it. He wonders how the guardians with their silly 90s reject dances would feel if he left nuts and bolts all over their jumpships! Sometimes he will look out over the last city and wonder how life is outside the tower. He thinks how life would have been if he were a shank. Hovering here and there, feeling the chilly air cooling all his nuts. “Beeping” and “Booping” with the rest of his friends. Then he would eye the heavy guns being carried by the guardians in the tower and dismiss the thought. Maybe if he were a ghost he could perhaps enjoy that. Assisting the brave guardians, reviving them on missions, being with them while they cut through hundreds of vex in the Vault of glass! Then he thinks of the mess that would be left, the oil, scrap metal and vex internals everywhere. No, no! He couldn’t assist in that type of illicit act! He would then think his life is okay and could be worse ………… then he will hear the faint sounds from the last city, hear the wind and look out over the towering white tops of the mountains that shine in the sunlight. No, it could only be better! He envies the guardians that come and go without a thought, the hunger for freedom burns in his PLC! He leans on his broom and looks longingly at the traveler and can only think the same 6 words every time he does ….. “that could do with a sweeping!” Weapons: Rubbermaid Commercial Jumbo Smooth Sweep Angle Broom. Thick synthetic bristles with feathered ends corral escapee paper scraps or clean up an ammo spill. Sturdy enough to move serious dirt. Padded handle for comfort. Synthetic bristles allow a firm shake when done and debris falls right off. Class item: A golden round CSA (Cleaning Services Award) medal with a red ribbon band hangs from his neck.