Exos don't seem to have the flexibility around their mouth for smiles: perhaps that's why Blaze has smiled so little since their switch. But there's a certain shift of the brow plates, a brightening of the optics that conveys the message. Blaze blinks at him over another stifled yawn, clocking for a moment how she must look.

"Sure, we've got- wait, don't tell me you're planning to sit on your ass around here for however many hours?"

"No," she say firmly. "I- you- whatever. Shouldn't have to cycle down for another couple weeks at least. Means you've got time to go have some fun. No reason you need to stick around here. Go try out the body, crash my Sparrow a few times. I haven't even seen you use my thrust pack once."

Blaze comes so close to cracking a grin. So close. She moves over to slap the thrust module built into his armored back.

"That's what this is. You use it to lift when you're jumping. Takes you a whole lot higher, further and faster than a regular leap." It's a hell of a bunny hop. "There's kind of a trick to it, but Ghost'll help you. Go try it out in the Nexus. Jump up somewhere high, do some recon our way."

"You're asking me to go?" The Ghost sounds concerned.

Hughes would have to twist around to see it, but Blaze looks honestly torn, her expression pained before she sets her mouth and nods stubbornly. "You won't be far. And I won't be long."

"Nine or ten?" No hiding the sharp intake of breath at that. Her eyes are wide when Hughes turns to look down at her, though they narrow in a frown quick enough.

"You're not serious. That's no reason to sit around here Ghost, get him out of here."

"...Splitting up within the forum was one thing. I'm not comfortable leaving my Guardian in a whole other universe."

"Light! What is wrong with you two?" She glares at the Ghost, irritable and exhausted. "Can't a bot get some sleep in peace?"

Blaze can't argue with the biology. She glowers up at Hughes, who... actually makes her body look pretty damned intimidating in return.

"What the hell is going to happen while I'm asleep?" She's tensed, automatically ready to fight- but she's not, she can't. It's probably sheer adrenalin keeping her standing right now. And it's stupid to make threats you won't follow through on. But bloody Light she wants to hit something. As she's thinking that, her curled fingers brush the cloth at her side. She swallows hard and turns on her heel. "Hnnh. Fine. Guess I can't stop you wasting your time."

She goes back to the weapons, stares at them, and concludes by taking that plain and slender hand cannon she pointed out to Hughes. Her first weapon as a Guardian. Perhaps the only one she can count on right now.

She didn't actually hit anything: that counts as self-restraint! Not enough to keep her from feeling embarrassed later, but she'll argue she had reason to be stubborn.

"Safeties're engaged, and it's unloaded." She peers up at him blankly. What, he's never done this? "Smart circuits're powered down, I checked. So yeah, I am." She sounds a little uncomfortable even beyond the grumpy exhaustion.

"...Hnh. See you in a few."

It's actually going to take a while to sleep: she's been awake so long her systems won't wind down, and arguing with Hughes has her circulation flooded with yet more nerve-wracking chemicals. Hopefully the exhaustion will kick in before she gets frustrated at not being able to shut down.

Meanwhile, Ghost will helpfully and quietly show Hughes around his options. They have all kinds of public data files, a whole lot of ancient texts, and low-security mission reports. Some of them concern Blaze and her Ghost. She even has a folder for her favorites. There's also a compartment with some leather-bound books if Hughes prefers paper. Two are travel guides, written by a couple of Hunters about the places they've scouted. There's a compilation of military texts, the Pahanin Errata, plus a famous Warlock's lectures on military philosophy.

And of course there are plenty of image and video collections. The City-style internet may have an awful lot of gaps when it comes to past culture (and even some odd things missing from its own history), but there's still a vast cultural inheritance behind them

Hughes can extract information aplenty here. Guardians clearly face enemies who vastly outnumber them, apparently by combining extensive intel and resource-gathering with strategically chosen strike missions to eliminate key targets: disrupting command chains, supply networks, denying attempts to seize key assets. At least, when they aren’t seeking ‘sources of increased Darkness activity’ or delving into ‘Darkness-intense zones’. Whatever the objective, on a long mission enemy casualty estimates can stack up to hundreds per Guardian.

Despite the formidable opposition, there are few mentions of Guardians gathering in groups of more than three or six. Though Fireteam leaders are named there’s little visible regard for hierarchy in the field. Even missions assigned by Vanguard Commanders back in the Tower are often phrased as requests.

It’s possible too to get a sense of the combat tactics favored. Blaze seems to favor shock and awe, aggressively testing her enemies’ defenses and charging in to hit their ranks at the densest point. Only where that proves ineffective does she resort to more tactical methods. Needless to say, her solo missions have a particular number of references to ‘Guardian impaled’ or ‘Guardian disintegrated’ or ‘Guardian incapacitated by tripmine detonation’. And immediately after: ‘Following Ghost resurrection…’



Blaze, meanwhile, is quiet for the first hour or so, once she finally gets to sleep. It’s only once she hits the dreaming phase that her pulse accelerates and her breathing quickens. And then the dream passes, and another hour goes by before it returns, and then again…

She has a vague sense of being surprised to be here. She can’t remember why. It seems inevitable now: here is where she was born; here she must return. No remaking by alien gods or meddlers can change that.

Once again it is evening as she comes down onto the field. The sun slants low over the mountains, making black silhouettes of the tower and the silent army before it. This doesn’t matter. She does not remember what is in the tower but she knows those who wait. She breaks into a run as she comes to meet them. There are others at her side, or distant, fighting their own foes for the same goal. (There are others, more distant, who walk ahead untroubled. She cannot heed them.)

They are all there, of course. Those of the Tower and those of the Nexus mixed in with the faces of long-forgotten names. She faces Hirune bare-handed; afterward, tries to take her gun before Jesse and Ulysses-10 tag-team her. Bare-handed suits her, but she takes a gun anyway and moves on. And there are Holliday and Steve, Banshee-44 and Verity and Harrowheart and ah, yes, Samus…

She’s slept four hours, or perhaps close to six. By then her heart is pounding, her breathing shallow. There are slight twitches in her fingers, the restless jerks and gasps that betray intense dreaming. The Ghost takes note: these phases seem to be getting longer. It drifts closer, fluttering anxiously, but doesn’t dare get too close. Exo psychology plus human biology is an unknown quantity.