Chapter 7: A Witch's Spark

While Sagan-7, Stall the Awoken, and Zula the Mobile Fortress make a speedy escape from Ishtar Academy, the amnesiac Sonja_Red catches up with an old friend. But Red's Ghost complicates things.

Dust shook off the pillar that Zula, Stall, and Sagan were taking cover behind. Bits of it crumbled as the Vex pressed their assault. Zula held her Heavy Machine gun with one hand, and emerged from cover. She fired from the hip as the approaching horde of Vex were mowed down. Sagan was throwing solar grenades for area control. He was burning golden age books in the process, and it pained him, but escape was more important than any book. Stall was the only one who was keeping his head down. The unseasoned student clutched the book that was bound in Vex metal, as he haphazardly blindfired his hand cannon.

                “The way is almost clear…get ready to run!” shouted Zula, she needed to use her comm, as the sound of gunfire drowned out her voice. She could feel her heavy machinegun getting lighter, as she emptied it onto a hulking Minotaur. She had chipped it’s armor, but the determined endoskeleton limbered toward her with its arm stretched out. Zula scowled at it as she threw the 50 pound piece of hardware at it, knocking it down. “Now’s our chance, BOOK IT!” she ordered

                Sagan nodded, as he grabbed Stall’s collar, and practically dragged him along as he made a B-line to the library’s exit.

                Zula followed behind them, another heavy machine gun materializing in her hand. She provided covering fire as she jogged towards the exit. Once she was there, she set her heavy machine gun to detonate, and tossed it yet again, this time, into a mob of Vex Goblins. She cracked her knuckles, and rolled her shoulders, before stretching her arms above her head, and forming her Ward of Dawn, a signature move of the Titans, these blue or purple bubble shields protect everyone in it, or behind it, from gunfire.

                “Ward of Dawn is up, that should keep anything from hitting us” She broke into a sprint, and was able to catch up to the two warlocks, who were more used to reading than exercising. “So, Old man, how did you awake the Vex…this time” said Zula, running in between Stall and Sagan.

                “Ask the boy…He took something I precisely told him not to take.” Replied Sagan, struggling to keep up with Zula as the rusted servomotors in his legs just weren’t as limber as they were, centuries ago.

                “How was I supposed to know I’d awake a horde of Vex?!” shouted a surprised Stall, as he too struggled to keep up with Zula as his untrained lungs just weren’t at their peak yet.

                “Big glowing red eye on the spine, a book bound in Vex skin, what next, you want a Vex themed birthday party?” lectured Sagan, as his sprint turned into a brisk limp. “Your curiosity has awakened a network of Vex…” he paused to make an audible sniff. “Just like me when I was younger…” 

                “Hey gramps…you look like you’re having a hard time there…” said Zula, noticing Sagan’s limp.

                “Gramps? Your just as old as I am�"“ replied Sagan, as his left leg locked in place, he would’ve faceplanted had Zula not caught him. He sighed, as he was being carried by Zula in one arm, like a child. “But the years have been kinder to you…” he said, with a defeated tone.

 

 

 

                Millions of miles away, on the Tower, on a Guardian Outpost located on Earth, the Exo Hunter Sonja_Red, leaned on a railing in the plaza, where she had a view of the entire city the Tower protected. Her Ghost hovered around her head, as she brooded. She looked at her Ghost, and asked it a question

“What’s your name?” she asked, with an innocent tone.

Her Ghost stopped, and turned to face her, “My name? Well…just Ghost I suppose.”

“So all Ghosts…are just called ‘Ghost’ ?” she asked.

“I suppose so.” Her ghost turned away and looked at the floating husk of the Traveler, a moon shaped object, that was anchored above the city.

“Has that ever bothered you?” said Red, turning her head to face her Ghost.

“I am a spark born from the Traveler’s light!” The Ghost replied grandiosely “Nothing so petty would ever bother me.”

“Do you want a name?” Red asked, moving her face closer to The Ghost, her nose touching it’s shell.

The Ghost hovered back and turned away “If you wish to give me a name, I would not be opposed to it.”

Red took a moment to think what she could name the floating tennis ball sized orb that had been taking care of her for the past hundred odd years…but, she simply spitballed the first things that came to her head.

“Scorpio! SUROs!? Vestian, Helios! XE-BAR?” she exclaimed

“Those are brands of knives.” He replied.

“Oh…” she said, staring back to the view of the city.

“You’ll think of something, you’re very creative.”  reassured her ghost. He peeked over Red’s shoulder, and noticed another female Guardian running up to her. She was a light blue skinned awoken, with shining black hair, wearing a matching black robe, and matching black makeup. “Uh oh…” muttered the Ghost, who recognized the Guardian.

 

“RED!” shouted the girl, a warlock, before Red could turn around. She was heartily embraced, and lifted into the air.

 “Let me go!” shouted Red, as she squirmed in her captor’s arms.

“Alrightalright….” Rapidly said the voice, as she let go of Red.

Red turned around, and had her hand hovering over her handcannon, ready to kill. But then her eyes fell on the Guardian’s face. “You…” she winced, pierced by a sharp migraine. She felt as though she knew this face, but could recall nothing, so she said the first thing that came to her head. “You’re so…pretty…” she said.

“Thanks! I did it all myself. It's hard to find a hairdresser when everyone wants you dead, heh. don’t worry, I know of your condition…Did your Ghost tell you about me, your pal Vorra?”

“Vorra? I…don’t know any Vorra…” said Red, running her finger over the bullethole in her cranium,

Vorra pouted “Where’s your Ghost? I told him to tell you about me first thing. He done fucked up.” She said

The Ghost slowly emerged from behind Sonja_Red. He glared at Vorra.

“Hello.”  He said with much disdain.

“Hey Lightbulb.” Said Vorra, flicking the Ghost’s shell. “What’s the deal, I thought you promised me that the first thing you’d do when Red lost her bananas was brief her on me so we could continue our friendship like apples and…bananas…” she shrugged.

The Ghost turned away, “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you.”

Vorra grinned, as she gave the ghost a playful nudge, “Real funny dude, come on, I don’t have many friends. So I know one when I see--”

The Ghost reacted violently, his eye turned red, and he cut Vorra off. “Well maybe there’s a reason for that!” He said , venom dripping with every vowel.

“Look bulbhead, there's no need to get...hostile.”

The Ghost’s shell flared as to give it a bigger appearance “You had Red join a cult” he shouted.

Vorra held a finger up, “Nope! Dead Orbit’s not a cult, Now the Future War Cult, they’re a cult, you wanna know why?”

“Irrelevant�"“ said the Ghost

“Because it’s in the name” said Vorra, interrupting the Ghost. “They literally have the word cult in their name. You think I’d recruit Red into a cult?!”

Red shook her head, “I joined a cult?” she asked, very confused.

Vorra grabbed the end of Red’s scarf, adorned with the emblem of Dead Orbit. “Nooo sugar, Dead Orbit’s just a group of likeminded individuals that like the color black.” She said.

Red’s Ghost nodded in disapproval “Where’s your ghost? I have never seen them in any of our interactions. Then again, I’d be ashamed to show myself if I were your ghost too.” said Red’s Ghost, sounding like parent who’s very judgmental of the company their children keep.

Vorra smiled “Who, Blue? She's a sweetheart.” she said, as she held out her hand “Come on out Blue, I’ve got some friends that want to see you.”

A ghost with a blue shell revealed itself, it hovered over Vorra’s hand. “Vacate the area, this confrontation is elevating your blood pressure which can lead to--” Vorra covered the Ghost with her hand, and it vanished.

“She’s a survivalist spark, so she’s a little shy” said Vorra, cupping her hands together.

“Blue? What an adorable name!” cooed Red, but her Ghost rolled his eyes.

“A survivalist spark eh? Figures.” scoffed Red’s ghost.

“Survivalist spark? What’s that?” asked Red.

“My Ghost, she’s no good for conversation, but she is really good at saving my skin. Whenever I’m in a pinch, she tells me what to do, I do it, and I survive, hence the name.” said Vorra.

“That’s useful” said Red.

 “Yeah, that’d be great and all, were it not for the fact that all those ‘instructions’ are just variations of ‘running away’.” The Ghost paused, before turning to Red. “Basically…Her Ghost is defective. ‘Survivalist Spark’ is a name given to Ghost’s that are unable to revive their associated Guardian, should they fall in battle. The only way the Guardian can be revived, is with another Ghost’s assistance. Problem is, Survivalist Sparks don’t play nice with other Ghosts, so instead of embracing their defect, they ignore it. Guardians cursed with the Survivalist Spark are infamous for running away, and abandoning their fireteam.” The Ghost turned to Vorra. “Like the ever so famous Vorra the Witch…”

Vorra’s grin disappeared from her face; she was used to criticism, but never anything backed up by science.

“Do us a favor, and crawl back to whatever scrap heap you emerged from.” Said Red’s Ghost, Vorra’s head sunk with each word. “The Guardian’s light is wasted on you.”

Vorra looked up, nostrils flared, and fists ready to pummel, but then she looked at Red, and laughed. She turned her gaze back to the Ghost. “So my Ghost’s defective? Well at least I’m not…” she stopped herself. She was going to say something about Red being an amnesiac. But she didn't do her any wrong, no reason to drag her into this. Vorra merely scoffed, "I'd tell you to go f**k yourself but you don't got any arms, or hands, you rudeass lightbulb" she turned, and walked away.

“Vorra wait! He didn’t mean it!” said Red, in hopes of mending this conversation.

Vorra held her hand up, as she continued to walk away. “Cram it sister, I don’t want whatever you’re selling. “ Vorra reeked of confidence, almost like she was used to this.

Sonja_Red sighed, as she turned, and looked out into the view of the city once again. Her Ghost hovered to her side.

“It’s for the best. Guardians with Survivalist sparks tend to be cunning. She would’ve used you, and abandoned you the moment you saw danger. ” Reassured her Ghost.

“Maybe…” she sighed once more. "She seemed so nice though..." She placed her elbow on the railing and leaned on it. “I suppose I’ll just have to take your word on it…”