The Taken King: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Worship the Sword-Logic

The Coming War I: Or Never Have I Ever

"Ok, ok, my turn," Moriah said, waving her hands about the cockpit.

Priest's arm shot out over the control panel. "Watch it," he warned. It wouldn't be the first time she nearly took the ship down.

The ship was small, meant for two people, and yet she, Priest, and Tour were crammed inside. As the lone Titan, her gear took up the most room. Priest patted her knee as if to take out the sting of his warning.

Tour leaned forward, the glow of his blue eyes lighting the dim space. Without a third chair, he sat on a crate of ammunition between Priest and Moriah's seats. He was an Exo, unlike the other two, a machine with more soul than most Guardians. While her and Priest's Awoken skin shimmered with blue secrets, Tour's was topological braids of doped metallic hydrogen-or so she'd read.

"Well, we're waiting," said Tour. He polished his hand cannon with the corner of his cloak. Ace of Spades, custom made.

Moriah cleared her throat. "Never have I ever-"

"Guardian, this is Commander Zavala-" as if they wouldn't recognize his deep voice over the comms. Priest adjusted the volume. "The Cabal base on Phobos is blasting a signal on all channels. If they're willing to break transmission silence, this could be a preclude to a full scale assault."

Priest's pale eyebrows-and the dark marks above them-shot up. It wasn't like the Cabal to send a distress signal. Moriah wasn't sure they even had a word for distress.

Priest smirked. "The Cabal know to call me for a good time." He pulled hard on the ship, and Moriah grabbed the edge of her seat to keep from tipping into the controls. He set a route for Mars and its moons.

"First," said Moriah, "the Queen goes silent and now the Cabal think they have something to say?"

"The Queen didn't just go silent," Tour said. "She's dead."

"You don't know that," Priest said over his shoulder.

"We're all dead," Moriah pointed out.

Tour nodded. "Dead doesn't mean what it used to."

Priest tilted his chin, sunlight resting on his cheekbones as they headed inwards through the system. "We've never died, not really." His words rung through the cold cockpit, their three Ghosts bobbing in agreement.

"Nope," Tour said. "I've been dead, at least a hundred times."

Moriah nodded. "A thousand times for me. Dead is dead, even if you come back. Which brings me back to... Never have I ever... died in the Vault of Glass."

Priest rolled his eyes. "You've never even been there," but he put a finger down. Tour was down to a single finger: his middle one.

They passed Mars and approached Phobos. They skimmed over its rocky, pockmarked surface.

"Aww," Priest murmured, "candlelight, just how I like it."

They passed over moon bases and mining colonies-all alight with flame and fire. A mass exodus was occurring as the Cabal fled.

"We're setting down on Phobos now," his Ghost sent through the comm.

"I'll be monitoring your feed, Ghost," Zavala said. "Good luck to you all."

Tour kissed his hand cannon. "We don't need luck."

A moment later, they dematerialized and reappeared on a cliffside outside the base.

"Never have I ever been to Phobos," Moriah said.

"None of us have," Priest added, and she frowned. She wasn't the best at this game.