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Andrew disliked the vibrations of the Ketch floor. The alien craft felt like it was drawing the life out of him, but that could have been the bonds that his captors had him in.

He made sure his uneasiness didn't show in his expression. Ordinarily, fallen walked wearily around guardians, warlocks especially, but a shackled prisoner who had more chains then a Hive abomination was less intimidating. Any display of trepidation was apt to encourage the two dregs into cuffing and prodding him along more than they had been already.

It made him even more nervous to step, or rather be dragged, from one new section of the ship to the other, however, to a warlock this was a learning opportunity. Since the only Ketch he, and countless others, had been on had belonged the House of Winter on Venus, he was only ably to explore limited sections. Now, his captors saw it as an excuse to show of their own strength and make the thought of any attempt of escape hopeless. What they did not know was that they never caught his Ghost, who was following them wherever they went.

When they passed through the next door, even he, who had only been on one ketch, could tell this room was meant for the throne room. Fallen version of luxury differed greatly from anything in the City. Normally people that could afford luxurious items, legal or otherwise, would display them in a way to give something more to the room. These remnant of the House of Wolve's throne room looked as if they not only stole it or ripped it away from their victims, but also lost complete interest in them after the Kell took possession. Everything from dead ghosts to old engines littered the room with more rarer items surrounding the throne proper.

Their Kell was a giant, even for Kell standards, tall and lean, with golden ornaments hanging from its massive curved horns and some alien-fur trimming his blue-grey body.

One of the dregs shoved Andrew, and he pitched forward with fetters clattering.

"Kneel before Kell Uurdo!" snarled the guard.

Uurdo's mouth, or what Andrew could assume was his mouth underneath their hideous ether-masks, twisted as though he found this roughness crude. Still, he thanked the dreg with a back-handed slap and ordered them to secure Andrew's chains to a steel ring mounted on the wall before dismissing them.

Uurdo went over to one of the many oblong containers in the room. Hissing ether vapors came pouring out, Uudro inhaled most of them and Andrew noted the use for those once useless containers. "Do you understand who I am," he asked in basic, clicking every word. "what's happening to you, and why?"

"The condescension in the Kell's tone rankled. Andrew hid his disgust rather well, just as he hid his anxiety.

"Can't really say," Andrew answered. "One second I was studying black-stone glyphs, the next your kind ambush me."

"Their coming for us." Uurdo took in more ether. "Now tell me why the Taken are stealing my kind. Was killing Scolas not enough?"

Under other circumstances, Andrew might have spat at the Kell but he was a man of logic and reasoning and this new entity, the Taken, was appealing. "How should I know? I only arrested him, never fought him in the Prison of Elders. I don't believe in hitting an enemy when their down."

"Lies!" The ether was now driving the Kell's emotions, and body. A mere slap knocked Andrew unconscious.

A dozen boys pushed and shoved one another - grabbed, tackled, rolled down the slope, and then got up and started again.

King of the Hill, it was originally called, but the boys decided to call it the Crucible instead. Each one wanted to be as great as Lord Saladin, and fought for ever scrap of the dirt mound as they could.

One boy stood at the peak. He blocked, pushed, and strong-armed all the other children.

"What a moron," a six year old Andrew said, gazing up at the freckled king. He was half way up the dirt pile, but unlike the other boys Andrew had decided to find a nice place to relax and remain. Let the others do the fighting, he was fine were he was.

The boy at the top was a head bigger then the other boys, brown hair, few missing teeth, and covered in dirt and freckles. He was also stronger than the other boys, if his performance in the game was any indicator. One boy grabbed him from behind in a headlock. The current king peeled the boy off, and - with a mocking laugh - tossed him down the hill side like a toy.

Andrew chuckled as the boy tumbled to the bottom, got up, and ran for another attempt. He leaned back in the dirt to allow the warm late-spring time sun to work its odd magic, but something caught his eye.

A blur of brown and gold flashed by him and six other boys, even the king was taken back. That brief hesitation was all she needed, Layla had almost successfully brought the current king tumbling down with her, but this boy was smarter then she liked. Instead of the two of them rolling down the dirt mound, it was just her. She collided with Andrew on the way down, and the two of them tumbled down to the bottom in a cloud of dust, laying in a heap of tangled limbs.

"Nice move," Andrew groaned.

"Shut up," she snapped, "and get your foot out of my face!"

"Then get off my back!"

Andrew noticed that Layla's normally long golden locks had been cut shorter then usual. Guess that inst-a-stick gum did more damage then Andrew expected. Though it did make here look more like a boy now.

"Hey!" the king, whose name was Kevin, screached at them. "The Crucible is for boys only! Get lost!"

To most girls that comment would have sent them crying or for a teacher, but not Layla. "What's the matter?! Afraid that I'm gonna come up their and kick your ass?!"

Before he could answer, Kevin had been ganged up on by three other boys. Two grabbed his legs and one threw his arms around his chest. They all tumbled down the hill. Kevin kicked and punched and bit his attackers until they let go and ran away to a safe distance. He rose and tore back up the hill, bumping another boy and shouting that he was Lord Saladin.

Layla wanted so badly to be a part of that attack, to make the freckled bastard be quiet for once, but Andrew held her back. She was still mad at him for the gum he got stuck in her hair, and blamed him for having it cut off.

"Let go!"

"No way. You can't win."

"Says who? You? I've already begun my Titan training, I can take him!"

"Look, that last gang almost got him," Andrew explained. "But I think the two of us can beat him."

"Us? Last I checked, those three failed at the attempt."

"Only because they didn't work together, if they beat him then they'd be fighting each other back to the top."

"So? That's the point of the game." said Layla. "What's the point of helping someone else out if you loose in the end?"

It wasn't a question, but Andrew knew the answer. For him it was blatantly obvious. "Think about. We, a girl and a class nerd beats the strongest kid in the class before the bell rings, we are the unquestioned champions."

Layla scrunched her face up to think it through, but the gleam in her eyes told Andrew that she was determined.

"Fine," she said, "but this better work!"

The two children sprinted up the hillside, pushing aside other boys who got in their way. Kevin, who had just gotten back up the hill, had not expected another group to come so quickly. Most alliances who have broken up by now, but this was different. Andrew threw all of his six-year-old weight into Kevin's abdomen, knocking the wind out of the boy. Layla had come up from the side, successfully knocking Kevin to the ground and getting Andrew off of him.

Gravity did their work for them as Kevin tumbled to the bottom of the dirt mound in a cloud. None of the other boys tried to help him as he lay sprawled on his stomach, gasping for air.

Layla helped her comrade back to his feet and they both made it to the top of the hill. Before any of the other children could argue this, the school bell had rung. Recess and the game was over. The two new monarchs let out a triumph whoop.

The dull aching in his head brought Andrew back out of his unconsciousness. There was blood in his mouth, and from probing around with his tongue he had noticed that two of his back molars had been knocked out.

"Great," he thought. "Guess I'm gonna ask Joanna to make me some new teeth."

Andrew spat out the blood and useless teeth. The clacking of the human's teeth awoke the Kell's attention.

"You are awake." He said, showing no concern for his prisoner.

"No thanks to my pounding head." said Andrew. He tried a simple warlock technique to lessen the pain, all he had to do was focus on it. Though the ether fumes were starting to addled his concentration.

"Hmmmm..." The creature said, eye Andrew the same way a cat eyes a large rat. "You're persistence is admirable, but foolish. Tell me, why would a guardian choose to help the Taken?"

The dull aching in his head and the ether mist was not helping Andrew's mental process at all. "What are the Taken? You keep saying their name like I should know it."

"I assumed you want to keep us away lest we stir up something your kid left behind." He leaned in close. "Perhaps the Taken have already corrupted you."

Andrew shook his head. The motion permitted him to take a surreptitious look through the large window at jungles of Venus - his world - streaking outside. It seemed tantalizing close and depressingly distant at the same time. "We don't know anything about these Taken."

Uurdo cackled. "I suspect you just don't want to share old legends that might make me more interested than I already am. But that is pointless. More of my kind keep disappearing past the Belt, and not only Fallen, but also Kabal, Hive and Vex. So I want to know why."

"I don't know anything about the Taken."

"You realize I took you prisoner because I believe otherwise. Your kind, Warlocks, are always saying how much you know. But, if I decide you are no use..." the Kell shrugged. "But I think you are lying, so here is how it will work. You can confide in me now and receive lenient treatment. Or, I hand you over to my interrogators. Your choice."

Andrew spat a glob of spit onto Uurdo's ivory white mask. "I don't know anything about the Taken."

"Stubborn to the end."

A cloud of ether vapors enveloped Andrew, sending him back into unconsciousness.

Andrew lay there on his cot, blankets pulled up over his head.

These feelings that he was experiencing were like nothing he had before. Anger, resentment, pain, guilt, and sadness all washed over him at once. He should not have been feeling this way, Warlocks were being warrior-scholars of the Light. He would devote himself to understanding the Traveler and its power. To a Warlock, his mind would be an arsenal of deadly secrets, balancing between godhood and madness, but now he felt on the verge of madness.

What he had seen...

All of him wished he could take it back, if that was possible. It kept replaying in his mind over and over again, and every time it felt as if he was being stabbed.

His Ghost, who had yet been given its nickname of, had materialized over him. "Master Zahl wants to speak with you."

Andrew rolled to his side. "I'm not in the mood."

"He figured as much which is why he said that if you do not show in the next minute, then you will have to do several mental durability tests."

That did motivate the young warlock-to-be to at least leave his cot. The last mental durability test he had to preform made him lift a two ton husk of iron. He did not want to know what he would have been doing if he was late.

The Pillar of Knowledge, a spiraling hall of white stone raised on the edge of the City's boarder was a thing of beauty and a testament to the Warlock Order. It contain the precious treasures of the Golden Era, or as little that was accumulated after the downfall and years of scavenging burned libraries. Even so, what had been saved consumed a near endless spiraled library that started from the base of the tower to it's top most was here, at the base, in a far alcove that could see into the outside world all by the choosing of the occupant's privacy, he found his master.

Beneath the moon's silvery light, Zahl rested back in a wooden chair that were made out of the boughs of a large evergreens, and moved in order to comfort him. The brightness of the waning moon, as it dipped and dodged behind fast-moving, scattered clouds, entranced the young apprentice.

Zahl could not see the moon, of course, but the old Awoken enjoyed the brisk night no less. He would listen to the many sounds carried on the breeze, the chatter of a thousand creatures that the human never even noticed. It was getting hard to tell if they were still in the Pillar of Knowledge, or actually outside.

Looking at his master, so at ease and accepting, Andrew felt the pangs of friendship, self-loathing, and guilt. "Perhaps it was a bad idea," he whispered, turning his gaze to the moon.

"Why?" Zahl asked quietly. "You don't like my cooking?" His good humor smile disarmed Andrew as the human turned back to him somberly.

"Becoming a warlock, I mean," Andrew explained, managing a laugh in spite of his melancholy. "Sometimes I think my choice a selfish one."

"Life usually is," Zahl replied. "I have felt the same way myself on some occasions. First time no older than you. But what, pray-tell, would make you change your mind when you are so far long? Can you really see you as anything else?"

Andrew thought a moment. "I don't know, maybe a Titan."

Zahl was quiet and then started to shake. Andrew had thought it was a stroke at first, but when Zahl's head flew back he heard the genuine laughter.

"I never heard you say something like that!" the blind awoken said. "So now you want to become a one-ton statue who chooses to limit their mind rather than expand it? I never thought you'd be that unpredictable."

Andrew used simple mental exercises to deal with anger building in his adolescent mind. "How I wish it would pass." He remarked more to himself or the night than Zahl.

"Is yours an honest lament?" Zahl asked him. "Most are not, you know. Most self-imposed burdens are founded on misconceptions. We - at least we who are willing to think - always judge ourselves by stricter standards than we expect others to abide by. Its both a curse and a blessing I suppose, depending on how you view it." He gave Andrew the briefest of gazes. "I see it as a learning opportunity."

"A frustrating opportunity," Andrew replied.

"Only when you do not pause to consider the advances that the striving has brought you," Zahl was quick to reply, as though he was expecting his student's word. The blind awoken knew that his young student was going through the ugly pubescent years that were common his race's aging, so his mood swings had become quite common.

Andrew fought for any words to say, "It's... It's just... I don't know. I don't know what this striving can bring me when it hurts too much!"

The memories came back. He had just returned from his first ranging in Edo Expanse, and wanted to tell Layla all about the things he had saw. About the odd creature that he encounter, about the odd spirit-like creatures called kodamas that called the choked jungle home, and the knowledge he learned. What he returned to was not what he wanted.

He found Layla in her barracks, as usual, but this time someone else was with her. Of all the people she could have been with, he could not find how or why she would want to be with Kevin. The boy that tormented both of them as children, was with her. Both in the literal and quite physical sense.

"Those who aspire to less accomplish less. There can be no doubt in your actions, no matter how much it hurts. It is better, I think, to grab at the stars than to sit flustered because you know you cannot reach them." He shot Andrew his typical wry smile. "At least he who reaches will get a good stretch, a good view, and perhaps some low hanging fruit for his efforts."

"And perhaps a bullet fired by some unseen assailant," Andrew replied sourly.

Zahl tilted his head helplessly against his student's unending stream of pessimism. It pained him deeply to see his normally good-hearted human so scarred. "He might indeed,"Zahl said, a bit more harshly than he had intended, "but the loss of life is only great to those who chance to live it! Let your bullet come in low and catch the huddles on the ground, I say. His lose would not be so tragic."

Andrew could not deny his logic, nor the comfort his master gave to him. The lessons he had given him before had been pragmatic in nature - how to use his own learning and command of the ever changing tides of space magic to his advantage - and rarely on inner working of his mind. A wave of anger crashed through Andrew. Zahl had nearly three-hundred years of life experience, with possibly another century to go, surely something could help his troubled student. Or maybe this was another lesson, some kind of test because he arrived late again. Or perhaps - and the most obvious - Zahl did not know what was wrong with him, because he truly did not know. There were times when Andrew had to remind himself that his teacher was blind.

Andrew took a quick breath and told him about what he had witnessed, what both Layla and Kevin meant in his head, and the unknown emotions he experienced. Part of him expected Zahl to laugh it off, another that he would ignore it entirely, and the rare moment that he would dismiss him for being his student all together.

Zahl, aged and wised and with respect within the warlock order, knew his student was concealing something. All it boiled down to was his age, and the poor boy would have to figure that out on his own. All Zahl could do was offer some words of wisdom and hoped they would help.

"All hearts are broken, all lives end, but every scare heals my young student." Zahl said at length. "You have only experienced one moment in life, and there will be more. But, for now, the scats are few, and they will fade."

Andrew, not so certain, put a lamenting look upon him, and Zahl could only offer a comforting pat on the head as he rose and headed off for bed.

Nearly ten-thousand volts of electricity jolted through his body, snapping Andrew out of his unconscious memories. "Great..." he coughed, his lungs were eagerly trying to suck in enough air in order to keep him alive. "Why did I have to remember that?"

Though the memory stung, time, training, and discipline all seemed to temper those feelings. Besides, that experience was the time when he decided to commit himself further to the warlock order. This experience, however, was completely different.

Judging from the look of things, they had moved him from the Kell's throne room to it's torture chamber. Though the word morgue also came to mind. Not that it mattered. A scattering of instruments lay on a stand, indicators lights marked pieces of electronic equipment, the air was chilly.

Andrew was naked except for a pair of trunks, and the framework that supported him came from the ceiling, holding him in mid-air. Guess that's was the use for all the hooks and chains. The light, for how much there was, stung his eyes, but when Andrew managed to penetrate the glare, he could see a hazy figure that had to be Uurdo. Somehow they managed to transplant the kell's throne into here, where-ever here was, and was raised high enough that it gave the alien a better view of the proceedings.

"So," Uurdo said, "how are you feeling?"

"Oh.." he gasped. "You know... besides the bruises, ether in my lungs, electricity coursing though my body, and now needles... splendid. Everything is coming up roses." Another discharge of electricity charged through his body again. "Take a joke, assholes!"

His throat was already sore from screaming, his body was soaked with sweat, and as he tilted his head down he could see clusters of needles protruding from various parts of his body. All of which hurt like hell.

"I guess asking for an aspirin would be too much to ask?" that gained him another shock, but it was less than before. "Though so!"

"You would be glad to hear that Kuvaro can relieve pain just as well as he admits it," Uurdo replied. "However, before we move to that stage, let us review what we have so far... You were sent to gather information on us. Correct?"

"Yes," Andrew replied hoarsely.

"And," Uurdo continued, "you claim to have no information on the Fallen or their King."

Andrew knew that the leads attached to his body were connected to some sort of Fallen lie detector. So the key was to tell as much of the truth as he could without revealing too much. However, since he had no idea who the Taken or their King were he had nothing to hide.

He had to find spider holes in his mind and crawl in, no matter how much it hurt.

The creature known as Kuvaro stepped out. A vandal class, but only had three arms - two and a half was more like it. One was a shriveled husk while the bottom right one was gone all together.

"He speaks the truth, my Kell," he spoke in the same broken common. "Or at least a version of it. He seems to know nothing about the Dreadnought, or maybe he is hiding it."

"I do not believe it," Uurdo responded cynically. "Who knows? Maybe he has some kind of warlock mind trick. Try again."

"As you command." Kuvaro obeyed, and Andrew experienced a jolt of pain so powerful that it felt as if his skull might crack open. So, when the tidal wave of darkness arrived he was grateful for it, and allowed himself to be carried away.

He was watching her from the worn out sofas.

Her laughter was lighter this night, lighter than it had been in a long time, and she knew her comrades felt the difference. Her sight spinning, her tone was up, and she danced.

Danced as she had never before danced, and the energy of the night. Tonight was a night of exploration and celebration.

Spun once more, she lost her balance and careened drunkenly to the side with the laugh, tripping on the small table and tumbling towards the floor - only to be caught at the last second by a pair of wiry arms a hand-span before she would have struck the metal floor face first. Righted immediately, she grasped Andrew's shoulders to calm the rolling motions about her.

"Thanks you."

Andrew's eyes were her point of focus as the world around her started to refocus, and they crinkled as he smiled but that smile didn't quite make it into his gaze. "So this is your idea of a second date?"

Something in his tone caught and held her attention, the sounds of the electronic music fading into the background as the other workers quickly backed off to give her and the warlock some space. Secrets rarely stayed that way in the Tower, and it had been established that they were together, and none of the were willing to intrude on such a moment. None would be of Holliday's mechanics were willing to face a Warlock or a Titan; not even Holliday itself.

Her blood settled, the focus she normally held returning, and Layla's smile faded as she took in the way he wasn't quite meeting her gaze despite looking at her. "What is it?"

Without looking, she knew the gaze he darted over her shoulder was at the rest of the dockworkers.

The smile on her face turned positively evil, she cast a look over her shoulder as she took Andrew's hand and winked at the other sailors. "Excuse us boys and girls, but me and this warlock have unfinished business."

Catcalls and whistles followed them as she dragged Andrew away, going past the the Dead Orbit recruitment station and the Quartermaster until they were finally outside, before rounding on him. The music coming from the gathering room was faint in the distance and none of the guardians would see them or care. In short, they were hidden in plain sight. Turning back to Andrew, Layla didn't drop his hand.

"Andrew?"

He wasn't looking at her. Instead, his gaze was out across the city, shielded by a warlock mask of stoic calm.

Andrew knew better than to argue with her; she was far too perceptive - too able to see past the walls of stoicism he had erected to protect himself. Sometimes he wondered if she had chosen the right profession. Not that it mattered. Without saying a word and with little more than a glance, Layla seemed to understand just why tonight affected him so much.

"You could have danced with me if you wanted."

"Thanks, but no."

"'I won't judge – much."

"I'm not of the same opinion. Besides, you have seen me 'dance."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Layla regarded her boyfriend thoughtfully, assessing him with a quiet perusal that always had the power to unnerve the strongest and most stout hearted of her companions; Layla could always see things no others could no matter how well hidden. That simple trait made Andrew shift uncomfortably, unwilling to meet her gaze.

She snorted softly. "You're not that bad. I have seen worse, and it never bothered them or me. Tell me, what is today?"

The answer hung between them. It the anniversary of Kevin's disappearance.

His gaze finally lifted to hers, and he was caught by the genuine smile spreading across her lips.

"Do you see any sorrow?"

"Not at all."

"Anguish?"

He shook his head.

"Anything that might be akin to them?"

Captured in her beautiful eyes, he knew that even in her past grief she still had strength in her. He shook his head once more. "I do not."

"Nope. Absolutely nada. I'm a free-wheeling single girl reveling in her statues as you please. One hundred percent available and open to offers from eligible single guardians."

"As you say."

"I swear, sometimes I think those helmets have completely blinded you, Andrew." Regarding him shrewdly, Layla tilted her head and smiled faintly. "You can dance; I've seen ye."

"Yeah, alone."

"You're always alone," Even on bounties and missions, he went alone. This was why he did not participated on the raids on the Vault of Glass or Temple of Crota. "But not tonight. Dance with me."

"Layla-"

"There's no one here but me and you, and I won't laugh too hard," defeating his objection before it was fully voiced, she extended her hand. "Dance with me."

"I don't think-"

"You warlocks think too much. Just shut up and dance with me."

Her gentle scolding had the effect she desired, and Andrew reluctantly stepped closer, glancing apprehensively back around them. Guardians of every kind and experience scattered below them, keeping to their own business and not noticing two other guardians dressed as civilians dance above them. Layla gently turned his face back her way with one hand as she placed the other on his shoulder.

"Eyes forward. You'll do fine."

There was no censure in her gaze. No hint of condemnation as he took a hesitant step in the fashion the workers had been doing earlier. Layla guided him into the first steps of one of the several formal dances she knew. They were standing too close, but she did not care. Life was always better the closer he was to her - she simply did not wish or want to examine why.

They stumbled together as Andrew attempted to take the lead and stepped with the wrong foot first, making them both laugh as it resulted in an unintentional dip and weave to bring them back into balance. Layla spun slightly away before Andrew improvised to bring her back close. This time, he grinned and led her off on the right foot before drawing them both around in a large circle.

"See? It's not so hard is it?"

"I have an excellent teacher."

Her sapphire eyes sparkled as he responded to the claim by lifting his arm and pressing her into a spin. "It's not so different from using space magic, is it?"

The look he sent her was full of disbelief and made her laugh. "Only the foot work. I found dancing does not a chance of exploding in your face."

Shocked by his claim, Layla's feet stopped moving until a certain glimmer of his tease shone from his eyes. "Though I have found that this kind of magic is a bit more responsive and enjoyable."

"You're terrible!" Swatting at him, she retook her position and Andrew led her back into the flow she'd momentarily disrupted. "I would've thought you could appreciate such a fine weapon in your hands. It's not every day you have the chance to wield such craftsmanship."

Understanding the taunt for what it was, they shared a look and a laugh before Andrew sent her into a series of spins - each one faster than the last - that left her breathless and disoriented. Andrew however was a fast learner and, unlike the dock-workers who had let her falter before, stopped the turns by pulling her closer. Far closer than before, they moved back into the steps of the dance. His only concession was that he moved slowly to accommodate her sudden handicap.

Layla was now wrapped firmly in his strong embrace and almost flush against him, was purely born out of consideration for her loss of equilibrium but brought with it its own set of problems. The chivalrous warlock did his best to ignore how good, or how right, it felt to have her in his embrace and instead tried to distract them both while drawing her with him. His sense of honor would not allow him to release her while she was unsteady on her feet.

"Where'd you learn to dance?"

"Could you believe that Natzram taught me when my father wasn't around?"

"Will you blame me if I said yes?"

Her laughter was soft. "Not in the least!"

The look he sent her said otherwise and a surprising blush flooded her face. "I love to dance. I've always loved to dance."

Andrew's nod was all that was necessary. Layla's smiled almost sheepishly. "While waiting for my lessons to start, Natzram decided I needed some lessons on other things then how to shoot something."

Pulling them both up short, Andrew searched her gaze as his hands dropped slowly away from her but quickly moved back, cupping her face. "You've no need to change, babe. Everything about you is unique; never change for someone else."

"I didn't think to," she retorted, but there was no heat in her words. "But I'm also for knowing that the more we know, the more we grow - even if the lesson isn't an easy one. Ye taught me that."

"So you learned to dance." His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and this time when he smiled, she could see it clear to his eyes. "And you decided to teach me."

"Knowledge is power, right?"

"Thank you."

Leaning forward, his lips replaced the pad of his thumb on one gentle swell, but Layla's head turned, catching his lips with her own. It was not deliberate, but rather an instinctive turn of her head towards the palm, that cupped it. His eyes widened, as did hers and neither moved. Within a series of heartbeat, the kiss went from accidental to deliberate. Andrew's hands slid into her hair even as hers slid up his forearms and then down around his waist.

Flush against one another, Layla's heart raced against her chest as their eyes closed. She kissed him passionately, as passionately as she had ever had, even more then Kevin. Whatever she was feeling was amplified in that moment by the knowledge that he would not take advantage - and all she had to do was ask...

A slight moan escaped her lips as she shifted sinuously against him, but the sound hung in the silence between them as Andrew tore his lips from hers. His breathing was heavier than normal, as was hers, and the image in her mind of burning lavender eyes was reality as hers fluttered open. Slowly, they seemed to orient themselves to their surroundings, almost clinging to one another for support as reality returned.

They shared a silent look, the kiss hanging between them for a long moment, as if searching to see what the other would do. To retreat - or to take another step beyond the borders of the friendship they'd built... a friendship solidly and profoundly built on mutual respect and love.

Layla exhaled softly and nodded back the way they had come. "We should be getting back."

Andrew's response was to take a step in the right direction - but even as he did so, his fingers curled around hers and squeezed. Their eyes met once more, speaking the words that neither of them was ready to hear, and neither was ready to say. He offered a smile, one she returned even as she sent silent thanks to whatever gods remained.

No matter what the future brought, he was, and always would remain, hers.

Andrew had died and gone to hell.

That's what he assumed anyway, given his inability to see, and the pain that racked his body. There was light, he knew that, because he could see it through his lids, and feel the heat of it. So he attempted to open his eye - but it felt as if they were glued shut. The obvious solution was to reach up and rub them. When he tried to do so he discovered that his hands were now bound behind him.

The constant muffled sounds in his ears were now starting to fade, and were replaced with actual, though broken, speech.

"What do you mean the electricity is loosing it's effectiveness?" It could have only be Uudro and he was not happy.

"My Kell, you must understand, we have put nearly a hundred-thousand volts into him, and with each increase his body begins to build an unnatural immunity."

An immunity to electricity? This was new. Warlock did have an unnatural resistance to both the void and radiance, this helped them have some control over them, but electric was something new entirely.

When... If he got out of this, he would have to tell the Seeker his new discovery.

He felt strong alien claws grab him by the head and jerked him upward, or at least as far as he could go. The motion caused his eyes to snap open. Bright burning light filled his vision and he wished that he could close them again, but Uudro's massive head leered down at him. To his own credit, Andrew did not look away, knowing the effect it would have on a creature who thought like a ravenous beast.

"Your will is strong, guardian, I will give you that," Uudro growled. "But I grow tired of your defiance. Tell me about the Taken's plans, and I will ensure a quick and painless death."

The Kell wasn't kidding, he brought his own shock dagger out. Even with his newly found electrical resistance a knife was still a knife.

"I'm... touched..." Andrew croaked.

UUdro was at the end of his wits, and was considering to put the human down for good. "Great. Another witty comment. That's all I can come up with. I'm sorry, babe. I thought we would have more time... Layla... The prettiest woman in the whold gaddamn world..."

Uudro saw the human's eyes dart around. What others might see as panicking, Uudro knew that he was assessing his surroundings."

"I just thought... we could play the Spying game... You ever play?" Andrew kept looking. This time he tipped his head to the side, barely making it past Uudro's enormous crest. It was painful, but he thought he heard a sound coming closer to them. "It's a pretty easy game, so I'll go easy on you. I say a letter, and you have to guess what I see... I spy... something... that begins with..."

The noise was getting louder. Actual gunfire and the death cries of dying fallens. He hoped he was right.

Uurdo behind him. The wall bulged for a second, like a tank wrecking-ball hit it.

"T..." Andrew smiled. "Can you guess what it is?"

Metal, joist, and dust exploded everywhere just as he raised one arm to shield his face. Before he could bring himself to bear on the what was happening, another guardian in heavily ornate black, yellow and gold armor was on him. From it's slight frame, even with the bulky armor, he could tell that it was a female. Her face was covered by a helmet the was crafted in a constant grimace, but even he could feel the rage underneath.

She fired on the Kell. An instant storm of white light and deafening noise left the giant fallen reeling backward. Uudro barely had enough time before the guardian's barrage put him down for good.

Andrew spat the dust out of his mouth and tried to blink the rest out of his eyes. He looked at the crumpled remain of Uudro and smiled. "T is for Titan. See? I win."

Layla grabbed him by the shoulders. At first an wave of peace washed over him, and Andrew could feel the pain melt away, then came the barrage of punches and insults.

"You idiot!" she cursed at him. Her punches were not as strong as the one beat down she gave the Kell, but it was enough to get her point across. "How could you take a bounty into unknown regions and not tell me?! I though warlocks are supposed to be smart."

"I get it! I get it! I'm stupid, got it!" Andrew said between the flurry. "Knock it off!... I'm the one injured here!"

Layla's face turned from anger to genuine concern.

"Enough sitting around," the Titan said as she cut Andrew free. "It's time for you to go to work."

Andrew nearly choked as Layla gave him a sip of water. "It's nice to see you too, babe," Andrew said, once he had recovered enough. Layla giggled a bit. "What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. You just look rather sexy in those trunks," Layla chided.

"Yeah. I love you too." He said dryly, but meant every word.

"Hold onto those words, and me," She clutched him so tightly to her chest that he thought she'd break all the bones that Uudro hadn't. A vibration rose through his body, it might have been romance but it was the ship beginning to buckle as more systems began to fail and her armor's power unit revving up. "Really tight."

As a warlock, Andrew routinely broke the laws of gravity. It was one of their most prized practices, and more veteran scholars, such as himself, learned how the teleporting skill of Blink. But taking off like a rocket while clinging to a Spartan was a rare and terrifying novelty. A chunk of broken joist ripped past his arm as they scraped through the gap, but he didn't care. He was glad to be out of there and even more glad to see other guardians attacking the ketch on all sides. It was a waste, seeing how most were destroying for the sake of destruction, but he learned all he could and would document it later... If this flight would not be the death of him.

They were flying now. Layla had an, experimental, SUROS S-10 Angel propulsion system. He had seen them once , and they poor comparison to the heavily ornate Angel Wings back in the Cryptarch Temple, but they still graceful and beautiful. Just like her.

Nearly transparent wings of energy spread four feet outward, and five back, allowing her to fly to advance at speeds through even the most tangled terrain that Venus could throw at her.

"I'm not going to drop you," she said. Andrew tried to look down and caught a glimpse of trees below. "But I don't normally land with passengers, so prepare for the possibility of a few more bruises." She paused. "And I'm really glad you can't hear our ghosts right now. Pervs."

Andrew would have made a witty comment at that, but the trees rushed past him without warning. He then thought what landing underneath nearly one-ton of armored Titan would do to him.

There was no thud. No crash either. Just a gale force of wind coming from the opposite direction as their speed descended and then stopped. Peaking underneath, they were mere inches from the ground and the wings were disappearing in a magnificent display of twinkling lights.

"Perfect as always," she said; peeling him off her. He almost lost his balance. "Even with the extra weight affects the handling, I came to a dead stop."

Andrew wobbled for a moment and sat on a bolder, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. Layla had taken her helmet off to see him better, golden hair covered with sweat. Leaning over him for a moment, Andrew pulled her in and gave big noisy kiss right on the mouth.

"You're bloody brilliant," he grinned as she recoiled. "Thanks, babe."

"Ick," she said. "Now I've got to clean my mouth out."

"I knew you'd come."

She missed a beat. It was noticeable, no matter how much blood he lost. "I'll never leave you behind."

Oooh. He loved that determined yet baffled look on her face. His ghost finally appeared, with his boots, coats, gauntlets, mark and helmet. It felt like he was putting on a second skin; bumps, cuts and bruises aside. Now they had get back to the city, then the healing could begin.

Description

Andrew disliked the vibrations of the Ketch floor. The alien craft felt like it was drawing the life out of him, but that could have been the bonds that his captors had him in.

He made sure his uneasiness didn't show in his expression. Ordinarily, fallen walked wearily around guardians, warlocks especially, but a shackled prisoner who had more chains then a Hive abomination was less intimidating. Any display of trepidation was apt to encourage the two dregs into cuffing and prodding him along more than they had been already.

It made him even more nervous to step, or rather be dragged, from one new section of the ship to the other, however, to a warlock this was a learning opportunity. Since the only Ketch he, and countless others, had been on had belonged the House of Winter on Venus, he was only ably to explore limited sections. Now, his captors saw it as an excuse to show of their own strength and make the thought of any attempt of escape hopeless. What they did not know was that they never caught his Ghost, who was following them wherever they went.

When they passed through the next door, even he, who had only been on one ketch, could tell this room was meant for the throne room. Fallen version of luxury differed greatly from anything in the City. Normally people that could afford luxurious items, legal or otherwise, would display them in a way to give something more to the room. These remnant of the House of Wolve's throne room looked as if they not only stole it or ripped it away from their victims, but also lost complete interest in them after the Kell took possession. Everything from dead ghosts to old engines littered the room with more rarer items surrounding the throne proper.

Their Kell was a giant, even for Kell standards, tall and lean, with golden ornaments hanging from its massive curved horns and some alien-fur trimming his blue-grey body.

One of the dregs shoved Andrew, and he pitched forward with fetters clattering.

"Kneel before Kell Uurdo!" snarled the guard.

Uurdo's mouth, or what Andrew could assume was his mouth underneath their hideous ether-masks, twisted as though he found this roughness crude. Still, he thanked the dreg with a back-handed slap and ordered them to secure Andrew's chains to a steel ring mounted on the wall before dismissing them.

Uurdo went over to one of the many oblong containers in the room. Hissing ether vapors came pouring out, Uudro inhaled most of them and Andrew noted the use for those once useless containers. "Do you understand who I am," he asked in basic, clicking every word. "what's happening to you, and why?"

"The condescension in the Kell's tone rankled. Andrew hid his disgust rather well, just as he hid his anxiety.

"Can't really say," Andrew answered. "One second I was studying black-stone glyphs, the next your kind ambush me."

"Their coming for us." Uurdo took in more ether. "Now tell me why the Taken are stealing my kind. Was killing Scolas not enough?"

Under other circumstances, Andrew might have spat at the Kell but he was a man of logic and reasoning and this new entity, the Taken, was appealing. "How should I know? I only arrested him, never fought him in the Prison of Elders. I don't believe in hitting an enemy when their down."

"Lies!" The ether was now driving the Kell's emotions, and body. A mere slap knocked Andrew unconscious.

A dozen boys pushed and shoved one another - grabbed, tackled, rolled down the slope, and then got up and started again.

King of the Hill, it was originally called, but the boys decided to call it the Crucible instead. Each one wanted to be as great as Lord Saladin, and fought for ever scrap of the dirt mound as they could.

One boy stood at the peak. He blocked, pushed, and strong-armed all the other children.

"What a moron," a six year old Andrew said, gazing up at the freckled king. He was half way up the dirt pile, but unlike the other boys Andrew had decided to find a nice place to relax and remain. Let the others do the fighting, he was fine were he was.

The boy at the top was a head bigger then the other boys, brown hair, few missing teeth, and covered in dirt and freckles. He was also stronger than the other boys, if his performance in the game was any indicator. One boy grabbed him from behind in a headlock. The current king peeled the boy off, and - with a mocking laugh - tossed him down the hill side like a toy.

Andrew chuckled as the boy tumbled to the bottom, got up, and ran for another attempt. He leaned back in the dirt to allow the warm late-spring time sun to work its odd magic, but something caught his eye.

A blur of brown and gold flashed by him and six other boys, even the king was taken back. That brief hesitation was all she needed, Layla had almost successfully brought the current king tumbling down with her, but this boy was smarter then she liked. Instead of the two of them rolling down the dirt mound, it was just her. She collided with Andrew on the way down, and the two of them tumbled down to the bottom in a cloud of dust, laying in a heap of tangled limbs.

"Nice move," Andrew groaned.

"Shut up," she snapped, "and get your foot out of my face!"

"Then get off my back!"

Andrew noticed that Layla's normally long golden locks had been cut shorter then usual. Guess that inst-a-stick gum did more damage then Andrew expected. Though it did make here look more like a boy now.

"Hey!" the king, whose name was Kevin, screached at them. "The Crucible is for boys only! Get lost!"

To most girls that comment would have sent them crying or for a teacher, but not Layla. "What's the matter?! Afraid that I'm gonna come up their and kick your ass?!"

Before he could answer, Kevin had been ganged up on by three other boys. Two grabbed his legs and one threw his arms around his chest. They all tumbled down the hill. Kevin kicked and punched and bit his attackers until they let go and ran away to a safe distance. He rose and tore back up the hill, bumping another boy and shouting that he was Lord Saladin.

Layla wanted so badly to be a part of that attack, to make the freckled bastard be quiet for once, but Andrew held her back. She was still mad at him for the gum he got stuck in her hair, and blamed him for having it cut off.

"Let go!"

"No way. You can't win."

"Says who? You? I've already begun my Titan training, I can take him!"

"Look, that last gang almost got him," Andrew explained. "But I think the two of us can beat him."

"Us? Last I checked, those three failed at the attempt."

"Only because they didn't work together, if they beat him then they'd be fighting each other back to the top."

"So? That's the point of the game." said Layla. "What's the point of helping someone else out if you loose in the end?"

It wasn't a question, but Andrew knew the answer. For him it was blatantly obvious. "Think about. We, a girl and a class nerd beats the strongest kid in the class before the bell rings, we are the unquestioned champions."

Layla scrunched her face up to think it through, but the gleam in her eyes told Andrew that she was determined.

"Fine," she said, "but this better work!"

The two children sprinted up the hillside, pushing aside other boys who got in their way. Kevin, who had just gotten back up the hill, had not expected another group to come so quickly. Most alliances who have broken up by now, but this was different. Andrew threw all of his six-year-old weight into Kevin's abdomen, knocking the wind out of the boy. Layla had come up from the side, successfully knocking Kevin to the ground and getting Andrew off of him.

Gravity did their work for them as Kevin tumbled to the bottom of the dirt mound in a cloud. None of the other boys tried to help him as he lay sprawled on his stomach, gasping for air.

Layla helped her comrade back to his feet and they both made it to the top of the hill. Before any of the other children could argue this, the school bell had rung. Recess and the game was over. The two new monarchs let out a triumph whoop.

The dull aching in his head brought Andrew back out of his unconsciousness. There was blood in his mouth, and from probing around with his tongue he had noticed that two of his back molars had been knocked out.

"Great," he thought. "Guess I'm gonna ask Joanna to make me some new teeth."

Andrew spat out the blood and useless teeth. The clacking of the human's teeth awoke the Kell's attention.

"You are awake." He said, showing no concern for his prisoner.

"No thanks to my pounding head." said Andrew. He tried a simple warlock technique to lessen the pain, all he had to do was focus on it. Though the ether fumes were starting to addled his concentration.

"Hmmmm..." The creature said, eye Andrew the same way a cat eyes a large rat. "You're persistence is admirable, but foolish. Tell me, why would a guardian choose to help the Taken?"

The dull aching in his head and the ether mist was not helping Andrew's mental process at all. "What are the Taken? You keep saying their name like I should know it."

"I assumed you want to keep us away lest we stir up something your kid left behind." He leaned in close. "Perhaps the Taken have already corrupted you."

Andrew shook his head. The motion permitted him to take a surreptitious look through the large window at jungles of Venus - his world - streaking outside. It seemed tantalizing close and depressingly distant at the same time. "We don't know anything about these Taken."

Uurdo cackled. "I suspect you just don't want to share old legends that might make me more interested than I already am. But that is pointless. More of my kind keep disappearing past the Belt, and not only Fallen, but also Kabal, Hive and Vex. So I want to know why."

"I don't know anything about the Taken."

"You realize I took you prisoner because I believe otherwise. Your kind, Warlocks, are always saying how much you know. But, if I decide you are no use..." the Kell shrugged. "But I think you are lying, so here is how it will work. You can confide in me now and receive lenient treatment. Or, I hand you over to my interrogators. Your choice."

Andrew spat a glob of spit onto Uurdo's ivory white mask. "I don't know anything about the Taken."

"Stubborn to the end."

A cloud of ether vapors enveloped Andrew, sending him back into unconsciousness.

Andrew lay there on his cot, blankets pulled up over his head.

These feelings that he was experiencing were like nothing he had before. Anger, resentment, pain, guilt, and sadness all washed over him at once. He should not have been feeling this way, Warlocks were being warrior-scholars of the Light. He would devote himself to understanding the Traveler and its power. To a Warlock, his mind would be an arsenal of deadly secrets, balancing between godhood and madness, but now he felt on the verge of madness.

What he had seen...

All of him wished he could take it back, if that was possible. It kept replaying in his mind over and over again, and every time it felt as if he was being stabbed.

His Ghost, who had yet been given its nickname of, had materialized over him. "Master Zahl wants to speak with you."

Andrew rolled to his side. "I'm not in the mood."

"He figured as much which is why he said that if you do not show in the next minute, then you will have to do several mental durability tests."

That did motivate the young warlock-to-be to at least leave his cot. The last mental durability test he had to preform made him lift a two ton husk of iron. He did not want to know what he would have been doing if he was late.

The Pillar of Knowledge, a spiraling hall of white stone raised on the edge of the City's boarder was a thing of beauty and a testament to the Warlock Order. It contain the precious treasures of the Golden Era, or as little that was accumulated after the downfall and years of scavenging burned libraries. Even so, what had been saved consumed a near endless spiraled library that started from the base of the tower to it's top most was here, at the base, in a far alcove that could see into the outside world all by the choosing of the occupant's privacy, he found his master.

Beneath the moon's silvery light, Zahl rested back in a wooden chair that were made out of the boughs of a large evergreens, and moved in order to comfort him. The brightness of the waning moon, as it dipped and dodged behind fast-moving, scattered clouds, entranced the young apprentice.

Zahl could not see the moon, of course, but the old Awoken enjoyed the brisk night no less. He would listen to the many sounds carried on the breeze, the chatter of a thousand creatures that the human never even noticed. It was getting hard to tell if they were still in the Pillar of Knowledge, or actually outside.

Looking at his master, so at ease and accepting, Andrew felt the pangs of friendship, self-loathing, and guilt. "Perhaps it was a bad idea," he whispered, turning his gaze to the moon.

"Why?" Zahl asked quietly. "You don't like my cooking?" His good humor smile disarmed Andrew as the human turned back to him somberly.

"Becoming a warlock, I mean," Andrew explained, managing a laugh in spite of his melancholy. "Sometimes I think my choice a selfish one."

"Life usually is," Zahl replied. "I have felt the same way myself on some occasions. First time no older than you. But what, pray-tell, would make you change your mind when you are so far long? Can you really see you as anything else?"

Andrew thought a moment. "I don't know, maybe a Titan."

Zahl was quiet and then started to shake. Andrew had thought it was a stroke at first, but when Zahl's head flew back he heard the genuine laughter.

"I never heard you say something like that!" the blind awoken said. "So now you want to become a one-ton statue who chooses to limit their mind rather than expand it? I never thought you'd be that unpredictable."

Andrew used simple mental exercises to deal with anger building in his adolescent mind. "How I wish it would pass." He remarked more to himself or the night than Zahl.

"Is yours an honest lament?" Zahl asked him. "Most are not, you know. Most self-imposed burdens are founded on misconceptions. We - at least we who are willing to think - always judge ourselves by stricter standards than we expect others to abide by. Its both a curse and a blessing I suppose, depending on how you view it." He gave Andrew the briefest of gazes. "I see it as a learning opportunity."

"A frustrating opportunity," Andrew replied.

"Only when you do not pause to consider the advances that the striving has brought you," Zahl was quick to reply, as though he was expecting his student's word. The blind awoken knew that his young student was going through the ugly pubescent years that were common his race's aging, so his mood swings had become quite common.

Andrew fought for any words to say, "It's... It's just... I don't know. I don't know what this striving can bring me when it hurts too much!"

The memories came back. He had just returned from his first ranging in Edo Expanse, and wanted to tell Layla all about the things he had saw. About the odd creature that he encounter, about the odd spirit-like creatures called kodamas that called the choked jungle home, and the knowledge he learned. What he returned to was not what he wanted.

He found Layla in her barracks, as usual, but this time someone else was with her. Of all the people she could have been with, he could not find how or why she would want to be with Kevin. The boy that tormented both of them as children, was with her. Both in the literal and quite physical sense.

"Those who aspire to less accomplish less. There can be no doubt in your actions, no matter how much it hurts. It is better, I think, to grab at the stars than to sit flustered because you know you cannot reach them." He shot Andrew his typical wry smile. "At least he who reaches will get a good stretch, a good view, and perhaps some low hanging fruit for his efforts."

"And perhaps a bullet fired by some unseen assailant," Andrew replied sourly.

Zahl tilted his head helplessly against his student's unending stream of pessimism. It pained him deeply to see his normally good-hearted human so scarred. "He might indeed,"Zahl said, a bit more harshly than he had intended, "but the loss of life is only great to those who chance to live it! Let your bullet come in low and catch the huddles on the ground, I say. His lose would not be so tragic."

Andrew could not deny his logic, nor the comfort his master gave to him. The lessons he had given him before had been pragmatic in nature - how to use his own learning and command of the ever changing tides of space magic to his advantage - and rarely on inner working of his mind. A wave of anger crashed through Andrew. Zahl had nearly three-hundred years of life experience, with possibly another century to go, surely something could help his troubled student. Or maybe this was another lesson, some kind of test because he arrived late again. Or perhaps - and the most obvious - Zahl did not know what was wrong with him, because he truly did not know. There were times when Andrew had to remind himself that his teacher was blind.

Andrew took a quick breath and told him about what he had witnessed, what both Layla and Kevin meant in his head, and the unknown emotions he experienced. Part of him expected Zahl to laugh it off, another that he would ignore it entirely, and the rare moment that he would dismiss him for being his student all together.

Zahl, aged and wised and with respect within the warlock order, knew his student was concealing something. All it boiled down to was his age, and the poor boy would have to figure that out on his own. All Zahl could do was offer some words of wisdom and hoped they would help.

"All hearts are broken, all lives end, but every scare heals my young student." Zahl said at length. "You have only experienced one moment in life, and there will be more. But, for now, the scats are few, and they will fade."

Andrew, not so certain, put a lamenting look upon him, and Zahl could only offer a comforting pat on the head as he rose and headed off for bed.

Nearly ten-thousand volts of electricity jolted through his body, snapping Andrew out of his unconscious memories. "Great..." he coughed, his lungs were eagerly trying to suck in enough air in order to keep him alive. "Why did I have to remember that?"

Though the memory stung, time, training, and discipline all seemed to temper those feelings. Besides, that experience was the time when he decided to commit himself further to the warlock order. This experience, however, was completely different.

Judging from the look of things, they had moved him from the Kell's throne room to it's torture chamber. Though the word morgue also came to mind. Not that it mattered. A scattering of instruments lay on a stand, indicators lights marked pieces of electronic equipment, the air was chilly.

Andrew was naked except for a pair of trunks, and the framework that supported him came from the ceiling, holding him in mid-air. Guess that's was the use for all the hooks and chains. The light, for how much there was, stung his eyes, but when Andrew managed to penetrate the glare, he could see a hazy figure that had to be Uurdo. Somehow they managed to transplant the kell's throne into here, where-ever here was, and was raised high enough that it gave the alien a better view of the proceedings.

"So," Uurdo said, "how are you feeling?"

"Oh.." he gasped. "You know... besides the bruises, ether in my lungs, electricity coursing though my body, and now needles... splendid. Everything is coming up roses." Another discharge of electricity charged through his body again. "Take a joke, assholes!"

His throat was already sore from screaming, his body was soaked with sweat, and as he tilted his head down he could see clusters of needles protruding from various parts of his body. All of which hurt like hell.

"I guess asking for an aspirin would be too much to ask?" that gained him another shock, but it was less than before. "Though so!"

"You would be glad to hear that Kuvaro can relieve pain just as well as he admits it," Uurdo replied. "However, before we move to that stage, let us review what we have so far... You were sent to gather information on us. Correct?"

"Yes," Andrew replied hoarsely.

"And," Uurdo continued, "you claim to have no information on the Fallen or their King."

Andrew knew that the leads attached to his body were connected to some sort of Fallen lie detector. So the key was to tell as much of the truth as he could without revealing too much. However, since he had no idea who the Taken or their King were he had nothing to hide.

He had to find spider holes in his mind and crawl in, no matter how much it hurt.

The creature known as Kuvaro stepped out. A vandal class, but only had three arms - two and a half was more like it. One was a shriveled husk while the bottom right one was gone all together.

"He speaks the truth, my Kell," he spoke in the same broken common. "Or at least a version of it. He seems to know nothing about the Dreadnought, or maybe he is hiding it."

"I do not believe it," Uurdo responded cynically. "Who knows? Maybe he has some kind of warlock mind trick. Try again."

"As you command." Kuvaro obeyed, and Andrew experienced a jolt of pain so powerful that it felt as if his skull might crack open. So, when the tidal wave of darkness arrived he was grateful for it, and allowed himself to be carried away.

He was watching her from the worn out sofas.

Her laughter was lighter this night, lighter than it had been in a long time, and she knew her comrades felt the difference. Her sight spinning, her tone was up, and she danced.

Danced as she had never before danced, and the energy of the night. Tonight was a night of exploration and celebration.

Spun once more, she lost her balance and careened drunkenly to the side with the laugh, tripping on the small table and tumbling towards the floor - only to be caught at the last second by a pair of wiry arms a hand-span before she would have struck the metal floor face first. Righted immediately, she grasped Andrew's shoulders to calm the rolling motions about her.

"Thanks you."

Andrew's eyes were her point of focus as the world around her started to refocus, and they crinkled as he smiled but that smile didn't quite make it into his gaze. "So this is your idea of a second date?"

Something in his tone caught and held her attention, the sounds of the electronic music fading into the background as the other workers quickly backed off to give her and the warlock some space. Secrets rarely stayed that way in the Tower, and it had been established that they were together, and none of the were willing to intrude on such a moment. None would be of Holliday's mechanics were willing to face a Warlock or a Titan; not even Holliday itself.

Her blood settled, the focus she normally held returning, and Layla's smile faded as she took in the way he wasn't quite meeting her gaze despite looking at her. "What is it?"

Without looking, she knew the gaze he darted over her shoulder was at the rest of the dockworkers.

The smile on her face turned positively evil, she cast a look over her shoulder as she took Andrew's hand and winked at the other sailors. "Excuse us boys and girls, but me and this warlock have unfinished business."

Catcalls and whistles followed them as she dragged Andrew away, going past the the Dead Orbit recruitment station and the Quartermaster until they were finally outside, before rounding on him. The music coming from the gathering room was faint in the distance and none of the guardians would see them or care. In short, they were hidden in plain sight. Turning back to Andrew, Layla didn't drop his hand.

"Andrew?"

He wasn't looking at her. Instead, his gaze was out across the city, shielded by a warlock mask of stoic calm.

Andrew knew better than to argue with her; she was far too perceptive - too able to see past the walls of stoicism he had erected to protect himself. Sometimes he wondered if she had chosen the right profession. Not that it mattered. Without saying a word and with little more than a glance, Layla seemed to understand just why tonight affected him so much.

"You could have danced with me if you wanted."

"Thanks, but no."

"'I won't judge – much."

"I'm not of the same opinion. Besides, you have seen me 'dance."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Layla regarded her boyfriend thoughtfully, assessing him with a quiet perusal that always had the power to unnerve the strongest and most stout hearted of her companions; Layla could always see things no others could no matter how well hidden. That simple trait made Andrew shift uncomfortably, unwilling to meet her gaze.

She snorted softly. "You're not that bad. I have seen worse, and it never bothered them or me. Tell me, what is today?"

The answer hung between them. It the anniversary of Kevin's disappearance.

His gaze finally lifted to hers, and he was caught by the genuine smile spreading across her lips.

"Do you see any sorrow?"

"Not at all."

"Anguish?"

He shook his head.

"Anything that might be akin to them?"

Captured in her beautiful eyes, he knew that even in her past grief she still had strength in her. He shook his head once more. "I do not."

"Nope. Absolutely nada. I'm a free-wheeling single girl reveling in her statues as you please. One hundred percent available and open to offers from eligible single guardians."

"As you say."

"I swear, sometimes I think those helmets have completely blinded you, Andrew." Regarding him shrewdly, Layla tilted her head and smiled faintly. "You can dance; I've seen ye."

"Yeah, alone."

"You're always alone," Even on bounties and missions, he went alone. This was why he did not participated on the raids on the Vault of Glass or Temple of Crota. "But not tonight. Dance with me."

"Layla-"

"There's no one here but me and you, and I won't laugh too hard," defeating his objection before it was fully voiced, she extended her hand. "Dance with me."

"I don't think-"

"You warlocks think too much. Just shut up and dance with me."

Her gentle scolding had the effect she desired, and Andrew reluctantly stepped closer, glancing apprehensively back around them. Guardians of every kind and experience scattered below them, keeping to their own business and not noticing two other guardians dressed as civilians dance above them. Layla gently turned his face back her way with one hand as she placed the other on his shoulder.

"Eyes forward. You'll do fine."

There was no censure in her gaze. No hint of condemnation as he took a hesitant step in the fashion the workers had been doing earlier. Layla guided him into the first steps of one of the several formal dances she knew. They were standing too close, but she did not care. Life was always better the closer he was to her - she simply did not wish or want to examine why.

They stumbled together as Andrew attempted to take the lead and stepped with the wrong foot first, making them both laugh as it resulted in an unintentional dip and weave to bring them back into balance. Layla spun slightly away before Andrew improvised to bring her back close. This time, he grinned and led her off on the right foot before drawing them both around in a large circle.

"See? It's not so hard is it?"

"I have an excellent teacher."

Her sapphire eyes sparkled as he responded to the claim by lifting his arm and pressing her into a spin. "It's not so different from using space magic, is it?"

The look he sent her was full of disbelief and made her laugh. "Only the foot work. I found dancing does not a chance of exploding in your face."

Shocked by his claim, Layla's feet stopped moving until a certain glimmer of his tease shone from his eyes. "Though I have found that this kind of magic is a bit more responsive and enjoyable."

"You're terrible!" Swatting at him, she retook her position and Andrew led her back into the flow she'd momentarily disrupted. "I would've thought you could appreciate such a fine weapon in your hands. It's not every day you have the chance to wield such craftsmanship."

Understanding the taunt for what it was, they shared a look and a laugh before Andrew sent her into a series of spins - each one faster than the last - that left her breathless and disoriented. Andrew however was a fast learner and, unlike the dock-workers who had let her falter before, stopped the turns by pulling her closer. Far closer than before, they moved back into the steps of the dance. His only concession was that he moved slowly to accommodate her sudden handicap.

Layla was now wrapped firmly in his strong embrace and almost flush against him, was purely born out of consideration for her loss of equilibrium but brought with it its own set of problems. The chivalrous warlock did his best to ignore how good, or how right, it felt to have her in his embrace and instead tried to distract them both while drawing her with him. His sense of honor would not allow him to release her while she was unsteady on her feet.

"Where'd you learn to dance?"

"Could you believe that Natzram taught me when my father wasn't around?"

"Will you blame me if I said yes?"

Her laughter was soft. "Not in the least!"

The look he sent her said otherwise and a surprising blush flooded her face. "I love to dance. I've always loved to dance."

Andrew's nod was all that was necessary. Layla's smiled almost sheepishly. "While waiting for my lessons to start, Natzram decided I needed some lessons on other things then how to shoot something."

Pulling them both up short, Andrew searched her gaze as his hands dropped slowly away from her but quickly moved back, cupping her face. "You've no need to change, babe. Everything about you is unique; never change for someone else."

"I didn't think to," she retorted, but there was no heat in her words. "But I'm also for knowing that the more we know, the more we grow - even if the lesson isn't an easy one. Ye taught me that."

"So you learned to dance." His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and this time when he smiled, she could see it clear to his eyes. "And you decided to teach me."

"Knowledge is power, right?"

"Thank you."

Leaning forward, his lips replaced the pad of his thumb on one gentle swell, but Layla's head turned, catching his lips with her own. It was not deliberate, but rather an instinctive turn of her head towards the palm, that cupped it. His eyes widened, as did hers and neither moved. Within a series of heartbeat, the kiss went from accidental to deliberate. Andrew's hands slid into her hair even as hers slid up his forearms and then down around his waist.

Flush against one another, Layla's heart raced against her chest as their eyes closed. She kissed him passionately, as passionately as she had ever had, even more then Kevin. Whatever she was feeling was amplified in that moment by the knowledge that he would not take advantage - and all she had to do was ask...

A slight moan escaped her lips as she shifted sinuously against him, but the sound hung in the silence between them as Andrew tore his lips from hers. His breathing was heavier than normal, as was hers, and the image in her mind of burning lavender eyes was reality as hers fluttered open. Slowly, they seemed to orient themselves to their surroundings, almost clinging to one another for support as reality returned.

They shared a silent look, the kiss hanging between them for a long moment, as if searching to see what the other would do. To retreat - or to take another step beyond the borders of the friendship they'd built... a friendship solidly and profoundly built on mutual respect and love.

Layla exhaled softly and nodded back the way they had come. "We should be getting back."

Andrew's response was to take a step in the right direction - but even as he did so, his fingers curled around hers and squeezed. Their eyes met once more, speaking the words that neither of them was ready to hear, and neither was ready to say. He offered a smile, one she returned even as she sent silent thanks to whatever gods remained.

No matter what the future brought, he was, and always would remain, hers.

Andrew had died and gone to hell.

That's what he assumed anyway, given his inability to see, and the pain that racked his body. There was light, he knew that, because he could see it through his lids, and feel the heat of it. So he attempted to open his eye - but it felt as if they were glued shut. The obvious solution was to reach up and rub them. When he tried to do so he discovered that his hands were now bound behind him.

The constant muffled sounds in his ears were now starting to fade, and were replaced with actual, though broken, speech.

"What do you mean the electricity is loosing it's effectiveness?" It could have only be Uudro and he was not happy.

"My Kell, you must understand, we have put nearly a hundred-thousand volts into him, and with each increase his body begins to build an unnatural immunity."

An immunity to electricity? This was new. Warlock did have an unnatural resistance to both the void and radiance, this helped them have some control over them, but electric was something new entirely.

When... If he got out of this, he would have to tell the Seeker his new discovery.

He felt strong alien claws grab him by the head and jerked him upward, or at least as far as he could go. The motion caused his eyes to snap open. Bright burning light filled his vision and he wished that he could close them again, but Uudro's massive head leered down at him. To his own credit, Andrew did not look away, knowing the effect it would have on a creature who thought like a ravenous beast.

"Your will is strong, guardian, I will give you that," Uudro growled. "But I grow tired of your defiance. Tell me about the Taken's plans, and I will ensure a quick and painless death."

The Kell wasn't kidding, he brought his own shock dagger out. Even with his newly found electrical resistance a knife was still a knife.

"I'm... touched..." Andrew croaked.

UUdro was at the end of his wits, and was considering to put the human down for good. "Great. Another witty comment. That's all I can come up with. I'm sorry, babe. I thought we would have more time... Layla... The prettiest woman in the whold gaddamn world..."

Uudro saw the human's eyes dart around. What others might see as panicking, Uudro knew that he was assessing his surroundings."

"I just thought... we could play the Spying game... You ever play?" Andrew kept looking. This time he tipped his head to the side, barely making it past Uudro's enormous crest. It was painful, but he thought he heard a sound coming closer to them. "It's a pretty easy game, so I'll go easy on you. I say a letter, and you have to guess what I see... I spy... something... that begins with..."

The noise was getting louder. Actual gunfire and the death cries of dying fallens. He hoped he was right.

Uurdo behind him. The wall bulged for a second, like a tank wrecking-ball hit it.

"T..." Andrew smiled. "Can you guess what it is?"

Metal, joist, and dust exploded everywhere just as he raised one arm to shield his face. Before he could bring himself to bear on the what was happening, another guardian in heavily ornate black, yellow and gold armor was on him. From it's slight frame, even with the bulky armor, he could tell that it was a female. Her face was covered by a helmet the was crafted in a constant grimace, but even he could feel the rage underneath.

She fired on the Kell. An instant storm of white light and deafening noise left the giant fallen reeling backward. Uudro barely had enough time before the guardian's barrage put him down for good.

Andrew spat the dust out of his mouth and tried to blink the rest out of his eyes. He looked at the crumpled remain of Uudro and smiled. "T is for Titan. See? I win."

Layla grabbed him by the shoulders. At first an wave of peace washed over him, and Andrew could feel the pain melt away, then came the barrage of punches and insults.

"You idiot!" she cursed at him. Her punches were not as strong as the one beat down she gave the Kell, but it was enough to get her point across. "How could you take a bounty into unknown regions and not tell me?! I though warlocks are supposed to be smart."

"I get it! I get it! I'm stupid, got it!" Andrew said between the flurry. "Knock it off!... I'm the one injured here!"

Layla's face turned from anger to genuine concern.

"Enough sitting around," the Titan said as she cut Andrew free. "It's time for you to go to work."

Andrew nearly choked as Layla gave him a sip of water. "It's nice to see you too, babe," Andrew said, once he had recovered enough. Layla giggled a bit. "What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. You just look rather sexy in those trunks," Layla chided.

"Yeah. I love you too." He said dryly, but meant every word.

"Hold onto those words, and me," She clutched him so tightly to her chest that he thought she'd break all the bones that Uudro hadn't. A vibration rose through his body, it might have been romance but it was the ship beginning to buckle as more systems began to fail and her armor's power unit revving up. "Really tight."

As a warlock, Andrew routinely broke the laws of gravity. It was one of their most prized practices, and more veteran scholars, such as himself, learned how the teleporting skill of Blink. But taking off like a rocket while clinging to a Spartan was a rare and terrifying novelty. A chunk of broken joist ripped past his arm as they scraped through the gap, but he didn't care. He was glad to be out of there and even more glad to see other guardians attacking the ketch on all sides. It was a waste, seeing how most were destroying for the sake of destruction, but he learned all he could and would document it later... If this flight would not be the death of him.

They were flying now. Layla had an, experimental, SUROS S-10 Angel propulsion system. He had seen them once , and they poor comparison to the heavily ornate Angel Wings back in the Cryptarch Temple, but they still graceful and beautiful. Just like her.

Nearly transparent wings of energy spread four feet outward, and five back, allowing her to fly to advance at speeds through even the most tangled terrain that Venus could throw at her.

"I'm not going to drop you," she said. Andrew tried to look down and caught a glimpse of trees below. "But I don't normally land with passengers, so prepare for the possibility of a few more bruises." She paused. "And I'm really glad you can't hear our ghosts right now. Pervs."

Andrew would have made a witty comment at that, but the trees rushed past him without warning. He then thought what landing underneath nearly one-ton of armored Titan would do to him.

There was no thud. No crash either. Just a gale force of wind coming from the opposite direction as their speed descended and then stopped. Peaking underneath, they were mere inches from the ground and the wings were disappearing in a magnificent display of twinkling lights.

"Perfect as always," she said; peeling him off her. He almost lost his balance. "Even with the extra weight affects the handling, I came to a dead stop."

Andrew wobbled for a moment and sat on a bolder, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. Layla had taken her helmet off to see him better, golden hair covered with sweat. Leaning over him for a moment, Andrew pulled her in and gave big noisy kiss right on the mouth.

"You're bloody brilliant," he grinned as she recoiled. "Thanks, babe."

"Ick," she said. "Now I've got to clean my mouth out."

"I knew you'd come."

She missed a beat. It was noticeable, no matter how much blood he lost. "I'll never leave you behind."

Oooh. He loved that determined yet baffled look on her face. His ghost finally appeared, with his boots, coats, gauntlets, mark and helmet. It felt like he was putting on a second skin; bumps, cuts and bruises aside. Now they had get back to the city, then the healing could begin.