In the months since the Dreaming City fell into its time loop, Corsair Amrita Vae had learned to wring joy from small triumphs. It was the only thing keeping her in good spirits as she, like the rest of the Vestian Awoken, stared down an indefinite cycle of struggle against invading hive forces.
Of the limited amusements available, her favorite were the guardians and their ghosts. They were truly unpredictable beings, capable of shifting the course of events in the Dreaming City slightly each cycle. Never enough to break it, not yet, but enough to add variety to her daily life. Sometimes, she would tag along on their patrols, listening to their stories and reports of the outside system. Other times, she would watch their antics from afar with the other corsairs.
So her interest was piqued when, one day, a purple-shelled ghost tailed her on her morning patrol near the Spire of Keres. She expected that it had wandered away from its guardian, but saw no one in sight.
"Hello ghost," she said with a smile. "Is your guardian nearby?"
"I hope so," he said cheerily. "But I've never been here before, and don't know my way around."
She tilted her head. "You've lost them?"
"Ohno. I haven't found them yet! But I have a good feeling about this place."
She nodded politely. It was the first time anyone had a good feeling about the Dreaming City since before the Battle of Saturn. Though, she supposed, if he was looking for bodies he would find no shortage here. 4 Vesta had long been a favorite burial site among the Reef Awoken, and the war with Oryx left many more dead here.
"Be careful, Ghost. It's, well . . ." she paused, wanting to warn the eager fellow without discouraging him, ". . . a bit risky here. Dangerous forces have gathered."
His flanges sagged, but he bobbed in agreement. She waved bye to him, and he spun a bit in the way she recognized as a ghost salutation. He buzzed away, and she wandered off into the mist, Tigerspite in hand and Supremacy slung over her back. Watched from behind an outcrop as a pack of hive and scorn tore each other to shreds, and stepped in afterward to take out those left standing.
"You do this all day?" came the ghost's voice from behind her, once the shooting had stopped.
She spun around to face him. "How long have you been following me?"
"Since we talked." He fidgeted. "It's . . . a little scary here. Can I stay with you, Miss . . . ?"
"Amrita," she provided, "And sure, why not. Just stay clear of firefights, will you?"
He nodded. "Thank you, Miss Amrita!"
"The pleasure is mine, uh —" she realized she hadn't gotten his name.
"Pulled Pork!"
. . .
The two traveled together for the rest of the day. She appreciated the company, and he enjoyed having somebody to tell his stories to. By his account, he was an old ghost, and although he could not pin an exact age to himself, from his description she reckoned he'd been in the system longer than the Awoken. A pang of sympathy gripped her when she thought about his centuries of fruitless search.
She traded her own tale of heartbreak. Told him about the happy life she and her partner had built on earth. How she had decided to take up arms in the Dreaming City when Reagent-Commander Petra Venj had requested aid from the remaining Reefborn. How Kazia had not wanted to leave earth, and how she had left them behind, instead. She wondered whether anyone had ever delivered the news of her plight. Whether they still cared for her, if they had moved on from her, or if they had forgotten her. Which would be worse.
In consolation, he bumped against her shoulder with a feather-light tap. She touched him in return, a single finger held to his flange. Whomever he ended up with would be particularly lucky, even by the standards of those chosen by the Traveler.
Night fell, and with it came the corsairs' evening briefing. When she and Pulled Pork arrived at the command center, her comrades amusedly asked if she had died fighting and been revived a guardian. She laughed, and reminded them she wasn't due to be bleeding to death in a cave until tomorrow. Pulled Pork bristled with alarm but she reminded him this was all a part of the cycle. A guardian would find her, she would be rushed to a field hospital and saved.
But that night as she lay on her cot in the barracks, she fantasized. Maybe this time she wouldn't be found. Maybe she would die in that cave, Pulled Pork beside her, and be raised with the light. She would lose her memories of the Reef, good and bad. She would lose all her friends, but she would no longer be trapped here, either. Kazia would become a stranger . . . perhaps for the best. A clean break to match theirs. She slipped to sleep while calculating whether it would be worth it.
Just before sunrise, Pulled Pork woke her from her fitful, dream-filled sleep. "Miss— Miss Amrita? I have to go now," he said, his soft voice taking on a tone of determination, "I think— oh, thank the sky, I think my guardian is nearby—!"
As she shook off her sleepiness, she asked, quiet and furtive, if she could go with him. He gently declined, saying he needed to do this alone. She nodded.
"I hope you find who you're looking for," she whispered.
"I hope you do, too."
. . .
Pulled Pork would not come back for her later that day.
She would not die.
A warlock would carry her off to safety. She would be evacuated to their makeshift hospital, and be stabilized by the techeuns. She would think of Pulled Pork as she lay on the stretcher, and wonder whether he found his person.
Perhaps she got her answer that night, when she heard from the comms that a galliot had gone missing and could not be accounted for.
(five times someone asked Petra out and one time she said yes)
1. Uldren Sov
It starts, as most bad things in her life, with Uldren.
They cross path as she’s going to the throne room and he’s exiting it. He looks tense and aggravated, so whatever discussion he just had with his sister must not have gone the way he wanted. She nods at him, careful to remain neutral. When he’s like this he tends to relieve his anger on anyone passing by and she’s not about to get into a row with him of all people. Not today.
He seems to completely ignore her, striding past with a thunderous look on his face. She’s about to enter the throne room when she hears him say,
“Venj.”
She sighs quietly and turns around. “Sov.”
He squints at her like he’s trying to make out something written on her face. Like she’s an anomaly he wants to pick apart. The scrutiny makes unease crawl down her back. Uldren’s focus is rarely a good thing.
“Are you free tonight?”
That’s… not what she expected him to ask.
“Huh- no?” She says, puzzled.
He purses his mouth. “Fine. Good. Whatever.”
She watches him go, confused, then shrugs and enters the throne room to give the Queen her report.
2. Cayde-6
“Roses are red, killing Fallen is easy, you shoot like a goddess, will you go out with me?”
Petra almost — almost — misses her next shot. That’s how surprised she is by Cayde’s words.
She turns and throws him a horrified look. She hopes it firmly conveys the what the fuck echoing in her mind.
Cayde ejects his empty magazine with a flick of his wrist and winks at her.
She gestures mutely at the battle going on around them, frowning. “Not the time? Or place?”
He shrugs. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”
She reloads her sidearm with more force than strictly necessary. He seems to get the message and goes back to shooting as if nothing happened.
Once the fight is over he leans next to her, somehow giving off the strong impression of waggling his eyebrows.
“Don’t,” she warns.
“Roses are red, we got lots of glimmer, I like you as a friend, wanna get drinks later?”
She rolls her eyes she’s afraid she might sprain something. “You’re buying.”
“You know what? That’s fair. Deal.”
3. The Spider
Mara told her to be cordial to the Spider. Polite. Nice, even, if she could manage it.
She forgot to mention that he’s a massive creep. Even for a Fallen.
“You are quite beautiful for an Awoken,” he says in what she thinks is his ‘seductive voice’. “Clever, too. I’m sure we could find some way to entertain each other.”
She gives him one good long look then turns on her heels and leaves the way she came without a word. She didn’t even ask him for the supplies she had been asked to get from him.
“There are advantages to having four arms,” he calls out after her with a chuckle.
Yup. The Techeuns will have to find some other way to get their rare ingredients, because she is not going back in there without a a very, very good reason.
4. Razel
Petra likes Razel. She really does. He’s fun, he’s easy to get along with, he’s cute in a dumb dog kind of way.
But if she hears a single other pickup line from him she won’t hesitate to jettison him out of the airlock.
“Hey, are you a Vandal? ‘Cause I’ve fallen for you.”
She gently hits her head against the control panel of her ship, wondering why she let herself be convinced to let him hitch a ride after his own ship got blown to pieces.
“Are you Oryx? ‘Cause I’m taken with you.”
“Dude, too soon.”
He makes an apologetic noise. For a few blessed minutes, everything is quiet. Then…
“Are you a Sunsinger? Because you are looking radiant today!”
She groans and resists the urge to hit his head against the control board. Though this one is kinda cute, actually. He must sense she hates it less than the previous ones, because he says,
“C’mon, I will be a Solar Grenade and illuminate your life!”
It’s ridiculous. She gives in to her base instinct and reaches out to slap him behind the head.
“Is there actually anything you’re trying to accomplish with this or did Cayde just. Put you up to this to drive me to an early grave?”
“Huh- I forgot, to be honest. He did give me a list of those, though.”
He waves a slip of paper. She snatches it out of the air and crumples it in her hand, glaring daggers at him. Razel lifts his hands in surrender.
He’s smiling, his tongue sticking out between his teeth.
“You’re smiling, though.”
“Oh, shut up.”
5. Amrita Vae
Amrita has been a Corsair for a long time. She enjoys it. She’s proud of it.
Sometimes she wishes she wasn’t one, though.
Mostly because being a Corsair means having Petra Venj has a direct superior, and she takes the chain of command very seriously.
“I mean, maybe we could- I mean-” She clears her throat, painfully aware of the blush rising to her cheeks, but doesn’t look away from Petra as she speaks. “Drinks? Eventually? Once this is over.”
Petra shakes her head with a slight, kind of sad smile. “I’m your commanding officer, it wouldn’t be right. Even if,” she adds when she sees Amrita ready to reply, “you are the one doing the asking.”
“Oh.”
“But I won’t say no to drinks once this Dreaming City disaster is dealt with. As friends.”
She speaks before she can change her mind.
“And if I wasn’t under your command?”
But Petra only shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m already… waiting for someone else.”
“Oh.”
Petra pats Amrita’s shoulder, friendly rather than the flirty she’s desperately hoping for.
Her skin is still prickling from the contact as she watches the Regent-Commander walks away, and all she can think is,
Who could be so amazing for Petra Venj to wait for them?
+1. Mara Sov
The Queen is terrible and beautiful, otherworldly in a way that makes Petra’s heart rises to her throat. She’s known Mara for what feels like all her life, been under he command for years, but her sight still makes her breath stutter out of her chest like she’s a teenager with a crush.
She tries to not let it get in the way of her work. Most times, she thinks she’s managing it well.
Then Mara will do something awful like die and come back and she’ll remember what it feels like to be afraid of how much you love someone.
Her eyes are beautiful, Petra thinks distantly, frozen in place by the piercing gaze. She swallows, hard, straightens to her full height and folds her hands behind her back.
“Yes, my Queen?”
“My dear Emissary,” Mara says with surprising fondness. “My strong, beautiful Emissary. Did you know that in the dark of the Ascendant Plane, you were the only one I saw in the full colors of life?”
Petra isn’t… quite sure what ‘full colors of life’ means, but she guesses it has something to do with the bright pink dye she uses on her armor.
She chokes out a, “I didn’t, my Queen.”
They’re equal in height. It feels like Petra should be that much smaller than her Queen, for how she looms over all of them like a careless god.
Mara leans forward until her breath ghosts over Petra’s skin.
“My vibrant, loyal Emissary,” she says, and Petra feels the shape of the words against her lips more than she hears them. “What wouldn’t you do, for me?”
It’s not a question, at least not one expecting a response.
Petra answers it anyway, and bridges the gap between them, what little space is left separating them, and kisses her Queen.
The lore entry on the seasonao warlock helmet, Wyrmguard Hood, has Petra checking in on Amrita Vae, the corsair stuck in the Dreaming City loop. The same injured corsair the guardian helps during the Broken Courier mission.
