The Drunken Duck (Drabble)

I haven't posted on this wiki in ages, and never before on my new account. As a sort of introduction, I've decided to post one of my recent one-shot stories focusing on some of my characters. These characters are original characters designed in the universe of the video game Destiny, published by Bungie. I do not claim any ownership of Destiny or its universe, but the characters and events in the following story are all my own work. 
I hope you enjoy! Please leave your thoughts and any constructive criticism below!
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Revelers sang and drank and carried on in the Drunken Duck bar. Guardians of all classes laughed as they shared stories and drinks. The small building, situated on the edge of the European Dead Zone, was dimly lit by pale lights and neon signs. The sound would attract the Fallen for sure, if they hadn’t learned by now that drunk Guardians were even more dangerous than sober ones. Tonight, a raiding party had returned, and the six, all clad in gold and white armor, were telling stories of their adventures.
“And then, Markus here slipped out from behind the tree and fell right in front of two of those dogs. Thank the Traveler for pulse ‘nades or we would’ve never made it past that part,” one of the Titans was saying to a few enraptured Guardians. 
Another Guardian entered, without much fanfare or greeting. The hooded figure traipsed quietly past the raid fireteam, and went quickly to the bar. “I’m looking for the Huntsman,” she said, her voice heavily accented. The bartender, a grey exo with blue eyes, scanned her suspiciously. He leaned closer.
“He’s over there, in the corner, but I’d watch myself if I were you; he don’t like company,” the Exo said. He offered her a glass of some red liquid.
Joan Cordelle took the glass. “Trust me, I know,” she said, and walked to the booth were Orion sat. He was hunched over the table, his hands wrapped around a large frosted mug. He was still wearing his green armor, with his cloak pulled up to hide his face from anyone who wasn’t looking for him. Joan, however, was looking only for him. As she sat and pushed her glass to the side, she saw his hands clench around the mug. “Relax,” she ordered.
“I am relaxed,” he replied through gritted teeth, “I got hit by a Pike today, and it still stings.” He still didn’t raise his eyes.
“Getting slow in your retirement?” Joan asked, leaning back and observing the Hunter. Orion grumbled.
“What do you want, Joan?” Orion said, skipping past the rest of the small-talk Joan had planned. She sighed and tossed her cloak back. Her green eyes were brighter now, and her short brown hair looked darker in the dim light. 
“Synapse and Tasya are both dead. With the remains of the Red Legion’s scorched-earth policy, we’re losing more and more guardians every day. We need you to come back. We’re launching a counterattack on what we think their main holdout base is, and we need as many bodies as we can get,” Joan’s accent was pronounced as she spoke. Orion slowly tilted his head up to look her in the eye. His olive cloak tumbled back to show his face. One of his eyes was the same olive color as the cloak, but the other was full of swirling white energy, which also spread across half his face in a web of connected white lines. His skin was tan on the human side of his face, but the Taken side was jet black.
“If you attack a Cabal base head on,” he said slowly, “then you’ll have all the bodies you want. It’s a suicide mission, Joan,”
“We’re Guardians, Orion, we face the darkness head on. If we fall, then we get back up. If we don’t, we take some of them with-” 
“Spare me the speech, Cordelle,” Orion said, cutting her off. “I’ve heard it all before. Fact is, I’m no Guardian. Not since what happened.”
“Orion the Vanguard scientists are working on a solution. Besides, you still have the Light, I can feel it now,” Joan looked at the Nightstalker with her brow furrowed. Despite her words, he did look weaker than when she last saw him. She didn’t remember the lines on his face as being so thick.
“The Traveler’s Light was shut off for months. Do you know who much effort it took to fight off this infection without the Light? It almost killed me and my Ghost. Now, I can barely summon a tether.” Orion’s hands were shaking, so he balled them into fists and punched the table. Some of the chatter faded for a moment as people turned to the noise, but they quickly returned to their conversations. “Find someone else to die on this hill with you, Joan, I’m not in this business anymore.” He stood and started to walk out, tossing a cube of glimmer to the bartender. Joan pushed away from the table and followed him into the night air. It was foggy outside, just enough to restrict visibility, but not enough to let Orion slip away before Joan stopped him. 
“Tasya worked for weeks to help you,” Joan said to his back. “Synapse worked with the Hidden to search for you when you were lost. They’re gone now because of this war. You would forsake their sacrifices, their friendship, by not finishing it?”
Orion didn’t turn. “Synapse and Tasya, you and Trencher, all of you. You’re might defeat the Red Legion, but there’s a tide coming that you don’t comprehend. I saw it in the Darkness. The tide is rising. I don’t know when it will hit, but a storm of Darkness is coming, and no City will withstand it’s winds. I will not die any more deaths for a hopeless cause.” With that, he did turn, and Joan saw a small crossbow in his hand. With one hand extended, he fired. The bolt caught Joan’s cloak just to the left of her neck and pinned her to the wall. She turned her head and wrenched the bolt from the stone. When she turned her head back, Orion was gone.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Destiny