For the love of unnecessary character backstories – these from Destiny 2
“I saw you die.”
Celeste-3 studied the warlock’s expression for acknowledgment of the encounter, any glimmer of recollection of the ill-fated expedition. Her machine sister by batch, Zihra-17 had been counted among those killed in action years prior. Celeste could not read Zihra’s face, a burning intensity in her crimson eyes. She waited for a witty remark, any sign of the sibling she had lost on that day. The hum of the ship’s automations was punctuated by the precise rhythm of the refurbished ion propulsion system. Below the din, a soft clink of glass as the Drifter poured a drink.
The witty reply never came. Celeste felt renewed heartbreak as the realization sunk in that the horror had not ended for Zihra that day. The silence between the two cut like a knife. The Drifter froze, the steady hand of one who had survived gunfights that started with less warning.
“Zihra, I-“Celeste’s apology was interrupted.
“It’s been a long time,” Zihra interjected.
Zihra’s inflection was not lost on Celeste. The Vex machinations had indeed taken them through both the distant past and one of the darkest of possible futures – Sol itself lifeless and blackened. The proud Sunbreaker Titan, Flag Bearer of the Vanguard, felt an instinctive heat rising. The weight of the hammer in her belt steeled her nerves. The Drifter quietly cleared his throat.
“Tell her what you saw,” the Drifter mediated. It was he who had arranged the reunion after Zihra was discovered at the edge of the solar system – a tip from Dead Orbit scouts.
Zihra paced carefully, stopping to examine the bottle of exotic liquor. “Do you remember the pursuit of Oryx?”
Celeste did. Each time they had faced the manifestation in battle the Taken King had fled into the ascendant realm, untouchable. “Of course,” Celeste replied. “Eris Morn-“she was interrupted again.
“Yes. Eris,” Zihra continued. “Do you remember what she asked us to do to be able to cross into the ascendant realm to end him?”
The Ocean of Storms, Luna. Deep within Hellmouth they had to retrieve essence of the slain god Crota, son of Oryx. Borrowing the uncontrolled magic of the Hive to enter the ascendant realm was the last thing any of them had wanted to meddle with, but the stakes were too dire to refuse. Celeste felt a chill in her systems at the suggestion.
“It was no mere key, sister” Zihra continued pacing. She set down the bottle, and for a fraction of a second there was a trail of dark where her hand had been, like smoke.
Celeste braced for a fight. “You’re,” she hesitated. Zihra waited for the answer. Celeste’s fist closed and opened nervously.
Zihra smirked. “I think the word you were looking for is we”.