Table of Contents https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/229522482/0/0 "There is no point in this revelry," Dawn Strife hisses. "Then you clearly haven't been talking with Eva," a man mutters as he strolls by. Dawn ignores him, keeping her gaze locked on Avery and me. "There's some good reasons," Avery soothes. "Every second, the Hive are clawing and biting and raising abominations," Dawn declares, "They do not rest. They do not celebrate. They do not eat these dried treats!" She spits out the last words and holds up a small red box. Avery looks at it and sighs, "Those are raisins, Dawn. How did you even get those? You're supposed to be giving them candy." Dawn grimaces and tucks away the box, returning her attention to her glowing orb. The green light coming from the rock inside it intensifies as she runs her nervous hands over it. Avery returns to the subject, "Just do what you were asked. It's not difficult, and Eva would appreciate it. Please try not to scare everyone off." Dawn nods grudgingly. Avery and I, knowing there's nothing left to say to her, turn and cross the Tower courtyard. Wires stretch overhead and along the walls around us, dangling engram ornaments. Purple candles are clustered in corners and at the bases of columns. The Tower had been decorated without delay under Eva's supervision. We go around the Council Hall entrance and up to the back corner, where Banshee-44 is standing behind a table covered in dismantled guns. Racks behind him hold more weapons, all ready for use. He's lost in thought and doesn't notice our approach. "Is everything going smoothly, Banshee?" Avery inquires. Banshee comes out of his fog and takes us in, then looks down at the table. A small pile of candy is gathered between two of the firearms. He studies it, then slides some to us and murmurs, "I'm supposed to give you these." Avery smiles encouragingly and commends, "Good work, Banshee. C'mon, Keis." I follow her up the last set of stairs. Noel is leaning against the massive archway that opens up to the higher courtyard, inspecting his new helmet. "This thing is awesome," he comments when we get close, "Seriously, whoever thought to make it look like a hawk needs a raise. And I love the cloak. This whole outfit is perfect. You guys look great, too. That pure white thing works for you, Aves. And you look good in red, Keis." "Aves?" Avery questions his nickname for her. Noel puts his helmet in the crook of his arm and urges, "Alright, enough basking in my glory. Now that you're done checkin' up on everyone, we can get to it. " "I'd rather not," Avery muttered. "Too bad," Noel chuckles, "It was an official article. You have to." He lifts his weight off of the archway and leads the way into the higher courtyard. Avery shifts closer to me and whispers, "You didn't help him post that article, did you?" I shake my head in response and she says, "I thought not. Later, remind me to find out how he got past the two-thirds Vanguard authorization. We can't have him doing stuff like that without our permission." With that, we follow Noel into the higher courtyard. A large crowd of boisterous soldiers is clustered near the edge, enthralled in what's happening within their gathering. To the right, a desk sits by the wall under a large black banner. The image of a red, two-headed hawk with swords gripped in its talons dominates the banner. The Frame standing behind the desk is decorated with fur and horns, and it greets us as we stop in front of it, "Welcome to the Crucible, Vanguard. The new Crucible Handler has been expecting you." Noel props his elbows on the table and chats, "Hey, Arcite. How's everything been goin'?" "Pathetically," Arcite returns, "Participants in hand-to-hand combat have shown improvement, as always, though swordplay cannot be properly practiced without real blades. My request to use them still stands." "Denied," Avery refuses, "We can't risk injuries." Arcite almost seems disappointed as he nods, "Very well. And firearms?" "Of course not," Avery answers. Arcite nods again, "Then I recommend creating a firing range, Commander. With-" "The Vanguard's here!" Someone shouts. The three of us turn to the crowd of soldiers, who have stopped to look at us. Some of them separate as an Exo pushes his way through. His battered and scraped frame is dark blue, making his yellow eyes stand out prominently. His white and orange formal robes swish as he closes the distance between us. He has a limp and makes an effort to keep his back straight. "Quit your gawking, you useless guttersnipes!" He orders the soldiers, looking over his shoulder at them, "Get your acts together and quit punching like sissies! Arcite, watch them while I have a word." "Gladly, Handler," Arcite obeys, moving out from behind the desk. Arcite passes the Handler, ushering the soldiers to get back to their training. The Handler stops in front of us and gives a small salute, "'Bout time you showed up. These jackanapes haven't stopped blubbering about you three since the announcement." "Good to see you're well, Miel," Avery replies. "Well?" Miel grunts sarcastically, running a hand over the robes covering his torso, "You may not have noticed the slight change in my posture when I was walking up to you just now. That would be due to the fact that I've got a gash the size of an Ahamkara in my chest." Avery sighs, "Fair enough. Are you enjoying your new position?" "I ought to be," Miel huffs, taking a waist-high walking stick off of the table and using it to support his weight, "And I suppose I am. But I've been preparing a little oration for you three." "Oh boy," Noel moans. "Can it wait?" Avery asks. "We've got time," Miel insists, "Those tykes are occupied and there's no doubt dozens more coming to see you fight, anyway." "C'mon, pal," Noel pleads, "We-" "Don't call me pal, wet-nose," Miel snaps. "Go ahead," Avery allows. "Thank you, Commander," Miel says, then begins, "First thing I'd like to say; waking up after thinking you've died is not pleasant." "Hey," Noel puts in, "I was in the room when you woke up. You seemed okay with bein' alive." "Waking up to that face was part of the problem," Miel slights, "Now, I've been in plenty o' fights, just like Keis an' Aves." "When did everyone start calling me Aves?" Avery mumbles. "Point is fightin's been my life," Miel continues, "And I want to die on my feet, with a gun in my hands. Can't do that now, clearly. I figure if I can't get killed, I'll teach everyone how to get killed good and proper. With any luck, they might do some good out there before they get their organs torn out of 'em. So thanks for accepting my request to replace the Crucible Handler, I guess." He finishes on that note, satisfied. "So..." Noel deduces, "Was that a thank-you-speech?" Miel sneers slightly, refusing to answer. "At least it was short," Noel sighs with relief. "The old Handler was getting ready to retire," Avery informs, "So you had some pretty good timing." "The babysitter is an absolute nightmare, though," Miel complains, "I'm starting to wish I'd been left behind for the Hive to pick apart." "It's just to help you get around," Avery explains, "You know you need an attendant." "Oh, I know," Miel spits, "But does it have to be that pestering headache of an Eliksni?" "Is there a problem with Sinekis?" I inquire. "You know him better than I do," Miel accuses, "He knows what he's doing, but he won't stop asking me about old battles and stuff I can't hardly remember, and it's drivin' me crazy." "Yeah, that sounds like him," Noel agrees. "He's only temporary," Avery assures, "Until we can gather volunteers and organize shifts." "Well make it quick," Miel grunts, "I'm a question away from throwing him off the Tower." "You are one spiteful Exo," Noel observes. "Darn right," Miel confirms, tapping the walking stick on the ground firmly. "Your attitude might make finding volunteers more difficult," Avery jabs. The conversation lulls for a moment, but Noel starts it up again, "So, what battles have you been in?" Miel glares at him, "I'll throw you next. And don't think I can't. I've still got some life in this husk." "I'd like to see you try," Noel heckles. Miel looks to Avery and I exasperatedly and asks, "Why is this brat in the Vanguard?" "I lost a bet," Noel sighs. "The last one died," Avery clarifies, "He made sure Noel was next in line." "That makes way too much sense," Miel grunts. "He's not as bad as he seems," Avery says. "Wow, thanks Aves," Noel praises sarcastically, "You do realize the point of defending someone is to NOT insult them, right?"