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Изменено (Sullys201623): 11/12/2016 2:25:03 PM
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Into the Hellmouth, Part 65: The Signal

Hello, everybody, here's part 65 of Into the Hellmouth! With the addition of this part, Into the Hellmouth has reached a length of 70,000 words. Woot woot! Anyways, here's [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/217390133?showBanned=0&path=0]part 64 [/url]if you missed it, or, if you're looking for a different part, here's the [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/209303839?sort=0&page=0]master post[/url]! As usual, if you like it, give it a bump, and I'll get more out soon! Stay classy, Guardians! Cayde walked into her room about twenty minutes later. “Ikora!” he said. “Why’d you bring me here? I was in the middle of important business.” “What business?” Ikora asked dryly. “For your information, I had a hot date,” the exo replied. Ikora gave him a venomous gaze. “Okay, I was doing paperwork,” Cayde admitted. “What do you need me for?” Ikora handed him the tablet. Cayde looked at it, and frowned. “One of your Hidden in trouble?” he asked. “Not exactly,” Ikora said. “They’re all accounted for, and safely in the Tower.” “Then what’s with the alert?” Cayde asked. Ikora sighed. “After our defeat on Luna, I gave out locator beacons to all my remaining Hidden,” she said. “They were programmed to broadcast a distress signal to any Hidden within range - including myself.” “And the range is -“ Cayde asked. “Three hundred miles, give or take a few,” Ikora said, cutting in. “With the right equipment, you can boost the signal, though. According to the tablet, this one’s coming from somewhere in the Cosmodrome.” Cayde nodded. “So, what do you need me for?” he asked. Ikora frowned. “Don’t you get it?” she asked. “In addition to my current Hidden, only four Guardians ever received these - and you know their names.” Cayde’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Are you saying that -“ Ikora nodded. “Omar Agah. Eris Morn. Eriana-3. Sai Mota.” She stood up. “One of their beacons is currently on Earth - and it’s been activated.” “How’s that possible?” Cayde asked. “I don’t know,” she replied. Cayde scratched his chin. “The Hive are on Earth now,” he said. “We’ve confirmed that thanks to my latest protege. Perhaps they have something to do with it.” Ikora frowned. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not.” She thought about Cayde’s latest “protege.” The Guardian who had killed an Archon within days of being resurrected. Who had faced more dangers in the past two weeks than most Guardians would in their entire lifetimes. The one who, even now, sought to destroy the heart of the Black Garden on Mars. “In any case, I have to check it out,” she said. “Sure,” Cayde said. “Just send off one of your Hidden. That Alexander fella certainly seemed -“ “I said, I have to check it out,” Ikora said. Cayde frowned. “Ikora,” he said. “There’s no need for you to risk yourself here. You could be wandering into some sort of Hive trap.” “I know,” Ikora said. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.” She shook her head. “Besides. If this has anything to do with my Hidden, I need to see it for myself.” Cayde stared at her. “It’s not your fault that they’re dead, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to bear this burden on your shoulders.” “They’re my Hidden, Cayde,” she said. “I bear responsibility for everything that happens to them - the good and the bad. If I don’t look out for them, who will?” Cayde was silent for a moment. Then, in a voice so low that it was almost a whisper, he said, “They’re family.” Ikora paused, and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. “Yes,” she said, “and if there’s even the faintest chance that information about them is out there, then I have to find it.” She turned towards Cayde. “I have to know what happened to them, Cayde.” The exo nodded, unusually somber. “What do you need?” he asked. “Cover me,” Ikora said. “I’ll be gone for at least a day, maybe two. If I don’t contact you within 48 hours, tell Zavala what happened, and send in the Calvary.” “Done,” Cayde said, without hesitation. “Do what you need to do, Ikora.” Ikora stood up, and walked over to the wall. She looked at the shotgun that she had framed on the wall. “Are you sure about this, Ikora?” her Ghost asked. “It’s been a while since we took that thing for a test drive.” Ikora took the Invective off the wall. “I say it’s time to bring it out of retirement,” she said. She stroked the shotgun. “Think you can still do what you do best, old friend?” The shotgun, as usual, did not respond. During her wilder days, the Invective had been her closet friend, aside from her Ghost. She had never gone anywhere without both of them at her side. And neither had ever failed her. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s go.” And with that, she left the room Ikora arrived at the Hanger a little while later. She found the shipwright, Amanda Holiday, in the same place as usual, looking at her tablet. She looked up as the Vanguard Mentor approached. “Howdy!” the Shipwright said. “Ikora! To what do I owe the pleasure?” “I need to take my ship out,” she said. “Really?” the Shipwright replied. “How long?” “A day,” she replied nonchalantly, “maybe two.” The shipwright frowned. “Ikora,” she said, “what’s going on?” “I need to take care of something,” Ikora replied. Amanda looked frustrated. “Ikora,” she said. “All flights need to be logged, per Zavala’s orders.” “Call it a ‘personal mission,’” Ikora said. Amanda grimaced. “Zavala’s not gonna like that,” she said. “You let me worry about Zavala,” Ikora replied. “Just trust me on this one.” Amanda sighed. “If you were any other Guardian. . .” “But I’m not,” Ikora said. Amanda nodded. “That’s right, you’re not,” she said. “When are you leaving?” “How soon can you have my ship ready?” Ikora asked. Amanda looked down at her tablet. “Well, it’s been dry-docked for quite a few years,” she said. “Don’t remind me,” Ikora mumbled. She’d surrendered almost all of her independence the day she’d decided to become a Vanguard Mentor. “I’ll need to do some safety checks, and get it all refueled,” Amanda continued. “If there’s no problems, we can have you ready to in ten hours.” “If you were to expedite the process,” Ikora said. Amanda frowned. “Ikora -“ “If you were to,” she said. Amanda grimaced, and looked at her tablet. “If I were to ignore most of the safety checks, and bump you to the front of every queue . . .” She looked up. “Forty five minutes.” “Then I’m leaving in forty-five minutes,” Ikora said. An hour or so later, Ikora’s ship flew out of the hanger bay. “Ghost?” she said. “Set a course for the distress signal.” “Already on it, Ikora,” her Ghost replied. And with that, the ship sped off into the Cosmodrome. Edit: [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/217844522]Part 66[/url]

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