Chapter 1 part1: Orders Torin stood in front of the small mound of earth. People seeing Torin for the first time always noticed how small he was for a Titan, but once they got to know him, they quickly realized not to get on his bad side. He was a fierce warrior and a renowned Guardian. But the one thing he wasn't very good at was the one thing that he seemed to do the most. "I know this probably won't help, but I'd like say it anyway." He bowed his head. "He was one my best soldiers." He paused. "And a good friend." How many times had he given these speeches? How many times had he looked into those cold judgmental eyes, accusing him. They never believed he actually meant it. The sad part was that he didn't. At least, not for this one. The woman standing across from him glared at him now, as she silently wept over her husband's grave. Torin couldn't blame her. It had happened on his watch, under his command. "He will always be with us, in spirit. We will always hold his memory in our hearts and in our souls." He finished. He turned to look at the woman. "I'll leave you to say your goodbyes." He left the woman and headed back towards base camp, the weight of her eyes resting on his shoulders. His lifelong friend Sam fell in step beside him. They made quite the pair, the diminutive Titan and the towering Warlock. Sam was at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders, blond hair, and hazel eyes that always seemed to stare right through you. Torin in contrast, was short and skinny with gray eyes. He had short brown hair that came down just above his ears. The wet grass squeaked under their feet, sending sprays of glittering dew through the air. "You can't blame yourself buddy. He knew the risks, and he accepted them. What happened was not your fault." Sam said. "Of course it wasn't." He looked up. "Did you really believe that story about him getting shot on patrol?" Sam looked uncomfortable. "It seemed a little fishy but..." "He deserted." Torin said blankly. "He was out on a patrol and killed his partner Jack. When Jack resurrected, he was gone." Torin sighed. "You and I both know that with all the unrest in the City right now, the Vanguard can't afford to have Guardians deserting. It's a PR move, to make everything look better." Torin's Ghost appeared at his shoulder and sighed. Rey didn't like fighting in the war. When she had finally found her Guardian, after years of searching, and resurrected him, she had expected non stop adventure. And she'd had it, for a while. But then the Red war came and they were forced into the makeshift army. She found it extremely dull. They walked in silence, the sun beating down on them in heart of what had been the Yucatan peninsula. They had been fighting to push the Cabal off of the Earth for over a year. As they walked towards the old ziggurat that had been converted into a mess hall, a young Hunter ran up to Torin. He snapped to attention, his arms locked rigidly at his sides. "Commander Thomas would like to see you Sir!" He practically screamed the words across the two foot gap between him and Torin. Torin stepped clear to avoid the flying spittle. "Can it wait? I was about to go eat." Torin asked, pointing towards the ziggurat. "He wishes to speak with you immediately Sir!" "Alright." Torin grumbled. "Come on Sam." He said as he began walking away. The Hunter jumped in front of him. "The Commander specifically requested only you." Torin frowned. The only times that Thomas wanted to speak to him privately was when he wanted another cover-up. "Stay here Sam. I'll be back in a little bit." Sam was clearly not happy, but what was he going to do about it? Torin marched over to the tallest ziggurat and climbed up the steps. The inside was cool and damp, the ceilings dripping from the recent rain. Torin walked past dozens of rooms full of weapons, communication stations, and the empty infirmary. The infirmary was hardly ever used. If a Guardian lost their Ghost, they usually preferred to go out in a blaze of glory. Rey shuddered slightly and dipped behind his shoulder. He stepped through a low archway, climbed a spiral staircase and entered the Commander's quarters. "Ah, good." Thomas said, "You're here." "You wanted to see me, Sir?" Torin asked. Thomas bent over the wooden table laden with maps, guns, and, Torin noticed, a small pack of twist. The room formed the inside of a pyramid, with a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. A bed roll lay in one corner, next a small crate. "I received a communication from the Vanguard. You're being transferred. Your whole squad." He sat heavily in the chair next to the table. "My whole squad?" Torin questioned. "Well, your whole squad minus one. They will send a replacement for Jameson." "I see." Thomas leaned back in the chair causing it to groan. "You've been chosen for Operation Jack Knife, a spearhead operation deep in Old South America. The orders came from the very top. I guess they figured out how good you guys were." Torin heard the pain in his voice and realized how much the news hurt his mentor. It also explained the twist. "I'll gather my crew." Torin said. "Wait." Thomas stood suddenly and grabbed his hand cannon off the table. "Take this." Torin accepted it warily. "Why are you giving me this? This your favorite, isn't it?" "You'll be needing it more than I do. I don't get much combat these days." He grabbed Torin's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "You were the best soldier I ever trained." Torin nodded and said "You were the best mentor I ever schooled." They shared a sad laugh before gloom settled over the room again. "I should get going." Torin turned and walked towards the door. Before he entered the stairwell, he looked back. Thomas was bent over the table, studying maps and battle plans. Torin said one silent goodbye to the closest thing to a father he'd ever had, and walked away. Part 2: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/249969787/0/0