Masterpost: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/253000143 “Oh, Zahir! You’re home early.” Eltanin looked up from the coffee table in the living room, which was covered by an assortment of papers. “Yes.” The exo plopped onto the couch beside her, taking a peek at what she was working on: order forms for the library she worked at. He often wondered how she felt about her work, being reduced from a guardian to a desk worker, but she seemed happy. The Vanguard had treated him well, but as time went on, it felt more and more like a lifeline to Zahir. The whole issue with the Drifter, and his conflict with the Vanguard, had been slowly whittling away at his enthusiasm for the organization, on top of Cayde-6’s death. Zahir noticed the gaze of Eltanin, who had begun staring back, unbeknownst to him. “Is something wrong?” She put the paper in her hands on to the side table. “No, it’s… I’m tired.” Zahir put his hand over his forehead. “I know you, Zahir. You’re never tired. At least physically.” He softly smiled. Eltanin’s perceptiveness never failed her. “Well, is it wrong for me not to play Gambit, even though I maybe should?” Eltanin put her hands on her lap. “I knew this would come up. It was only a matter of time until motes came back into the picture, huh?” She looked up at the rough, beige ceiling of the apartment. “I don’t think it’s wrong, but you should definitely help out with the other half of their plan.” Zahir cast a confused look in her direction. “You know,” Eltanin leaned forward, “The trap? You don’t have to play Gambit to prepare a trap!” - Lacer and Ascella began the long walk from the Tower hangar to the Drifter’s station. “You sure he’ll let us keep a haul?” Ascella rested her head on The titan’s pauldron. “Trust me, I got this. I’ve been playing with the Drifter for a while.” He turned to Auva, Altair, and Procyon. “We’ll be right back, you three. Just stay put.” “Why can’t we go with them?” Auva crossed her arms. “Because we don’t know the Drifter, Auva. Or would you like to get to know him?” Altair joked. “No way. That rat man gives me the creeps!” The warlock hugged her sides and shuddered. Procyon stepped forward and put his hands into the shape of a triangle. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” Auva released herself and looked over at her fellow warlock in visible confusion. “Ah, right. Motes. The trap.” Altair clapped his hands together, getting the attention of both. “We need this to look as genuine as possible. A transport ship to hold these motes heading to an odd location should do the trick. Those of us not participating in the match will hide there and jump Wasp when he gets aboard to steal our bounty.” Altair made a gun with his fingers to signal the execution of the trap. “That sounds simple enough.” Auva crossed her arms as she listened to the plan. Procyon, standing across from her, nodded in approval. “The only problem is getting a transport ship in time… Lacer said he’d try to schedule a match today.” Altair rubbed his chin, “maybe I’ll ask him to reschedule.” “You won’t have to do any of that.” A voice declared from behind. Auva, Altair, and Procyon turned to see Zahir, fully armored and looking at a large junker floating in the runway behind them. “This was my friend’s ship, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us using it for something like this.” - The rogue lightbearer tossed a coin into the air, looked over at the approaching guardians coming in from the annex, and tilted his head to let the coin slip into his bandana. “Evening, Drifter fans! Whatcha got for me today?” “Hey man, we have a request, if you don’t mind.” Lacer waved and put his hand on the railing that stood between them and the mote bank in the corner of the room, not unlike the one that had been used against the team earlier. “Well, I’ve got all day, uh…” Drifter waved his finger in Lacer’s direction and scrunched his face. “Lacer. You don’t remember me?” “Of course I remember ya! I was just thinkin’ a bit too hard before you came here is all.” “Oh, haha! Makes sense.” Lacer rubbed the back of his helmet. “He totally thinks you’re a loser.” Ascella thought, watching the exchange. “Anyway,” Lacer spread out his hands. “We need motes, and a lot of them. You know that guy that’s been running around stealing hauls?” “Of course I do, brother. I want that punk dead as much as you, but you’ll have to earn ‘em. He ain’t no big spook to me until I see something real bad, y’know?” “I thought you’d say that. When’s the soonest match we can sign up for?” “Depends.” Drifter flicked two coins from his wrists into each of his hands. “You lookin’ for Gambit, or my fresh new scam, Gambit Prime? Prime goes by a lot faster, just sayin’.” Ascella turned to Drifter and finally spoke. “You said prime is faster? We’ll do prime!” “No way!” Lacer held his hands out. “We need a huge haul! A monster haul! A haul so big-” “We don’t have time, babe.” Ascella put her hands on the titan’s shoulders. “Trust me.” “Like hell, we’re doing classic. Big wins, big hauls. I’m just saying, we have a better shot at this if we have more motes.” “And I’M saying the sooner we stop Wasp, the better!” “Well, brother, sister, looks like you’re going with…” Drifter tossed a jade coin into the air and caught it with his left hand. Lacer turned back to look. “You’re deciding on a coin toss? Who said you could-” He flashed the coin under his thumb. “Gambit prime! I’ll get you signed up.” The rogue lightbearer announced slyly, walking away to begin scheduling. “My game, my rules, brother.”