If you want to move to a preceding or following part, or read an actual description of the story, click [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1901902/223764924/0/0]Table of Contents[/url]. “This appears to be some sort of Fallen banner…taken directly, I presume?” “Right on, sir,” the Titan acknowledged. “Took it off a Captain that wasn’t too roughed up.” Master Rahool nodded in satisfaction. “The house symbol looks familiar, but I can’t quite identify it. Where did you acquire it?” “The Cosmodrome, sir. We experienced the same confusion; it definitely does not look like a House of Devils banner. The Warlock on my team suspects that it belongs to House of Kings.” Master Rahool took in a sharp breath and snapped his fingers. “Yes, that’s it! I remember now. The Cryptarchy doesn’t possess many artifacts from House of Kings.” “Well, you’ve got yourself one right here and now, sir,” the Titan offered, smiling. “Yes, yes, of course. How does 200 glimmer sound for the artifact?” “Deal.” “Hold on,” the Titan’s Ghost interrupted. “I’m afraid we can’t accept the offer.” The Titan turned a confused look at the Ghost. “Why not?” “We’ve nearly accumulated the maximum amount of glimmer we’re allowed to possess.” “How much do we have?” the Titan asked. “24801 glimmer.” his Ghost responded. “What!? That’s only one too much!” “I’m sorry, but I can’t carry more than 25000.” The Titan turned back to Master Rahool. “Can we strike a bargain, sir? I would be willing to offer less.” Master Rahool smiled, but shook his head. “I’m sorry, Titan. Cryptarchy policy demands that I compensate you with no less than 200 glimmer for items recovered from our enemies, since you willingly put yourself at risk to retrieve them. Honestly, if it were up to me, I would give you 199, just as much as I could give! But, my hands are tied.” “If I may,” the Ghost spoke up, “we could purchase some weapon parts or ammo syntheses from Banshee-44 until our reserves have sufficiently dropped.” The Titan sighed. “I suppose that’s what we’ll need to do. I’ve heard other Guardians mention this all the time. Just give me a few minutes to return, sir.” As the Titan walked away, Morgana couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. “Uncle, surely there must have been some way to make this transaction easier. What if he had been offended, and simply erased it from his Ghost’s inventory? We would have lost some good materials to study!” “I know that,” he replied. “It’s a hassle, yes, but that’s the way things are.” He sighed. “House of Kings, in the Cosmodrome. That was a great find!” “Why don’t we have more on that Fallen house?” “They’re very reclusive, and according to reports, much more dangerous than House of Devils. In any event, what would be good is to get some artifacts from the Cosmodrome. Imagine, the wealth of data from where humanity’s Golden Age colonization programs were born!” Morgana remembered her dream, and her skin began to tingle with goose bumps. “Surely, the Cryptarchy has posted some sort of patrols for such artifacts?” “Oh, of course, but only items from Fallen, like temper cloth, wire wraps, or shock cores. To actually retrieve relics would require a formal agreement between a senior Cryptarch and a willing fireteam to escort them to the location, especially to someplace like the Cosmodrome!” Her uncle seemed to grasp that the conversation was leading somewhere. “Why do you ask?” “No reason,” she replied unconvincingly, her skin tingling with even more excitement than before. “Don’t give me that! Where were going with this?” “Don’t you think this may be a good opportunity? Ask that Titan when he gets back, and see if he’s willing to take you to the Cosmodrome to gather some artifacts!” Her uncle scoffed. “Even if I wanted to, which I’m [i]not [/i]saying I [i]wouldn’t [/i]be inclined to do, I’m not a field operative! Moreover, I have a responsibility to maintain services with Guardians here in the Tower.” [i]Here goes nothing[/i], she thought to herself, her flesh practically looking to walk on its own. “Then send me in your place.” Master Rahool stared at his niece for few seconds agape before replying, “What!? Send you? But Morgana, you’re hardly qualified to lead a crypto-archeological expedition!” “Why not?” she retorted. “I’ve worked with you long enough to recognize a good artifact when I see one, and I know how to treat them properly. Most of the time, I can keep my artifacts in better condition than you can!” He shook his head. “It’s not just that. Didn’t you hear what was just discussed? We have evidence that not one, but [i]two [/i]Fallen houses reside in the Cosmodrome. It’s a very dangerous place. Officially, the patrol zone is one of the front lines in the Vanguard’s battle against invaders of our solar system. The risks are too great.” “Then I can investigate areas outside the Cosmodrome. You said so yourself, with two Fallen houses, it’s unlikely that anything in the actual complex hasn’t already been scavenged or damaged beyond any usefulness. If I’m removed from the place, then I might have a chance of recovering something that was easily overlooked, and at significantly lower risk.” Her uncle looked right into her eyes. “Morgana, answer me truthfully: does this have [i]anything [/i]to do with the dreams you’ve been having? Please tell me this isn’t just some justified excuse to satisfy your nervous curiosity.” Of course it had something to do with it, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Uncle, I understand the risks associated with such a mission, and I can’t imagine complicating it further with a personal agenda. All I’m looking for is a way to benefit the Cryptarchy and add to their knowledge. This is our lost history, Uncle.” He broke off his piercing gaze and adopted an expression of concern. “My dear, this is not how I would imagine your mother would have wanted me to raise you. To send you, with my permission, to someplace like the Cosmodrome…” “You said this morning that I was becoming a young woman. Neither I nor you can continue to live our lives on the words of my mother. At some point, I’m confident she would have wanted me to ford my own path, to make my own destiny. And if things get hazardous, I’ll be safe with three Guardians there to protect me.” “Guardians can still die, you know,” he muttered, though she could hear submission in his voice. This time, he was out of arguments. When the Titan returned, Master Rahool began by saying, “Listen, I have an idea I would like to propose to you…” The Titan accepted the proposal without many questions or concerns. The expedition would only last from tonight into tomorrow morning, just to see if anything could be gathered in a short window of time without attracting the attention of the Fallen. When the details had been ironed out, the Titan left to reconvene with his fireteam members while Master Rahool went to schedule a departure with the Cryptarchy and Amanda Holliday, leaving Morgana to take a transport back down to their apartment to gather provisions and equipment. There she got dressed in sturdier apparel, including a hooded cryptarch cloak, for both hot days and cold nights, and a pair of thick-soled, deep-treaded boots. She gathered enough nutrient supplement bars to satisfy herself over the journey, then collected some oranges from the dining table so she would have something palatable. Then she ran to her uncle’s study to gather some tools, including a handheld delicate-puff airbrush, some vials of weak solvent for cleaning, an electronic notepad to record her findings and any audio files, and some hermetically-sealable bags for carrying samples. She consolidated the food and tools in a large satchel that had enough space afterward to hold any artifacts she may find. Just before leaving, she saw her appearance in the bathroom mirror. It struck her just how much she looked like her uncle, not regarding that her clothes were made for a woman. She could almost imagine that this is how she would look in the future; a senior member of the Cryptarchy, assisting Guardians with their engrams at the Tower Plaza, enlightening an apprentice of her own to the mysteries contained in the texts and artifacts salvaged from humanity’s lost worlds. “[i]I’m confident she would have wanted me to ford my own path, to make my own destiny[/i],” she had said to her uncle. Hopefully, today would be the first step on her path and beginning of her destiny.