This is my first attempt at canon-parallel fan fiction – this story takes place around the time of House of Wolves and follows our main character Djido Zha, a rogue Awoken Guardian who's abandoned the Tower to join the Reef Mob, a group of independent smugglers from the Reef. Though every attempt has been made to keep this story faithful to canon, this story is taking place alongside the larger events of Destiny, and some creative licenses have been taken. I invite any and all feedback to hone this story further, and keep your eyes up for future installments of the Reef Mob series! [b]1. In the Shadow of the Traveler[/b] The Tower dwellers see the Traveler as a symbol of hope, of light. But it’s a false god. It merely reflects the light of the sun, using it to make itself appear to be the Light. It’s a lie, a con, an excuse for the Speaker to throw more and more of his dead warriors at the vague conflict he proudly declares as the War Against the Dark. But how does one fight an element, an idea? All they fight are its proxies, whom the Speaker denounces as evil. And none of the Tower dwellers dare question the Speaker’s directives –– none wonder why he orders his dead to fight the living. Except for those like me, those who see that the Darkness is everywhere, even behind the Speaker’s mask. It took me a long time to figure this out, but for those who live beneath, in the sprawling slums of Old La Rioja, far from the gaze of the Speaker in his ivory Tower, every day is a constant reminder of this truth, a truth the Speaker blinds himself to. He cares nothing for those who live beneath the Traveler’s shadow –– perhaps it pains him to be reminded that even the Traveler casts darkness. Or perhaps he merely wishes to blind others from seeing this. Regardless, he turns his eyes and those of his Guardians’ away from those who scratch out a living down here, but since it’s all the same to me, I prefer it. I’d rather the Tower didn’t know I was here. Neon haze creeps through the grimy window, filtered through the smoke of the vendors in the alley outside. Beneath the ever-present shadow of the Traveler, the hustle and noise of the people of Old La Rioja wafts up through the window, and one of my companions in this dingy room shuts the blinds, blocking out the light and the noise of the living. All that remains in their absence is the dim red glow of a single bulb, illuminating the Fallen as he joins his partner across from me. His name is Zivas, and I hated him the first moment I laid eyes on him. He and his partner Loriks belong to the House of Talons, a criminal cult they refer to as “the Family.” Anything you need, no matter how rare, expensive, or guarded, they can get –– for a price. It took nine months and just as many odd jobs to cobble up enough for what we needed to get them here, and now that they are, I find I have to consciously keep my fingers from drifting toward the hand cannon strapped to my hip. I steady my hand –– not yet. Zivas warbles his nonsense language at me, but I already know what he wants. I pull out the drive and show it to him. “Unlimited use. Hook it up to any vault, and the contents are yours.” Loriks nods approvingly, but Zivas looks wary. My hand drifts toward my hip again unconsciously, like magnetism –– my other hand extends the drive toward Zivas’ own before I snatch it back pointedly. “Where’s what I came for?” Amidst all the fur and monstrous features, I can see Zivas scowl, but he pulls out his own case grudgingly. [i]He’s planning to screw me, too[/i] –– the thought ruefully forces itself into my mind, and I feel a little less bad for how this going to end for them. He stretches out his hand to open the case, and I can’t help leaning forward to look –– Zivas jerks it back, snickering in his sick Fallen way. [i]Was this one there when the Family struck their deal with the Wolves?[/i] –– the thought comes unbidden again, and anger wells up, prompted by the slight. My hand creeps toward my hip again, and this time I don’t stop it. I tuck the drive back under my cloak. The Talons notice. They wave their arms, agitated, snarling and rasping, and I just can’t take it anymore –– I’ve played nice long enough. The hand cannon is inches from Zivas’ snout in a flash –– Loriks draws his weapon, growling rabidly. Zivas goes for his own as I thumb back the hammer. We all freeze like that for a moment –– Zivas glares at me, then smiles behind his ether mask. He speaks, his voice rasping, broken, horrifying to hear: “[i]Last…words?[/i]” He looks to Loriks, who mimics his smile. I join them, and their smiles fade a little. “Ghost.” My Ghost materializes in midair, stunning them –– Loriks starts to aim, but Ghost punctuates the Fallen with the scaled-down assault rifle I installed on him. Loriks gets one shot off before falling to the ground, riddled with bullets, his final attack plinking harmlessly off Ghost’s reinforced shell. Zivas goes for his gun, but my finger’s been waiting impatiently on the trigger –– it squeezes unbidden, and Zivas tumbles to the ground, groaning and gasping. Ghost hovers next to me as I step toward Zivas, aiming my hand cannon down casually. “This was never a trade, Zivas, I hope in your final moments you understand that.” Ghost keeps his gun trained on Zivas as I bend down closer. Hate, disgust and pain are writ large across his monstrous features as I glare into his cold, black eyes, which dart toward his chest pointedly. I know what he’s trying to say but I don’t care –– I look only in his eyes, ignoring the small recessed lenses in his armor he so desperately wants me to see. “I need you to understand that. I may have strayed from my path, but whatever I’ve become the Awoken are still my people. And your Family financed the Wolves’ betrayal.” With a grunt of pain, Zivas chokes out: “[i]You…not….Queen’s.[/i]” I smirk back: “Every Awoken heeds the Queen’s call in their own way.” Zivas struggles again –– I’m surprised he’s making such an effort: “[i]You….Guardian.[/i]” “Not anymore.” The hand cannon aims itself easily at the Talon’s head –– with the slightest thought, my finger pulls the trigger. The only sound that punctuates the silence is the dull familiar ringing I’ve heard millions of times before, the sound I hear whenever I dare to sleep –– “Djido.” Ghost is calling. He always knows when I’m leaning toward the brink and he pulls me back. Still, I’m hypnotized by the contorted shape of the Talon’s decimated face… “Djido.” I’ve been here too long, seen this carnage too many times…I push the thoughts away with effort. “Ghost?” “New Monarchy patrols might have heard the noise. We should leave.” I numbly rise, holstering my weapon beneath my cloak. The Talons’ case is nearby –– I grab it without thinking. I’ll open it on the ship. I hold it out to Ghost and he dematerializes it, storing it for me. “Get my sparrow ready.” *** If you need to find a different chapter, you can find them all in the [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/218618986?sort=0&page=0]Table of Contents[/url]. Enjoy the story and if you like it, a bump would be greatly appreciated! If you have any questions or corrections, comment or message me anytime, I welcome any and all feedback.