Last spark from the ashes

"Sure. You see anyone else on this bird?" She brightens up proudly. The way to a girl's heart is through her armament, it seems. She points out a few of them, starting with a gleaming, relatively lightweight hand cannon. "That's the first gun I got the day Ghost woke me: my friend Kaolin gave it to me, to help us get home to the City. That Pulsar rifle I dug out of a cache in Old Mumbai; won that one from a Hive knight on the moon. And that sidearm is interesting: Awoken work from out in the Reef..."

Nearly all the guns have the same slightly mismatched quality as the ship: some parts are so worn that the new bits have to be replacements. High-tech as they are, all of them seem to have some small story behind them. These are antiques in their way: handed down and lovingly upgraded for who knows how long. And all carry echoes of Light from the past Guardians who've wielded them.

Blaze stifles yet another yawn and moves around to his back. "And this- hold still a second - this one's my favorite pulse rifle. Steady, sights are sharp, handles nicely when you're moving fast."

She's detaching the pulse rifle from his back as she talks, checking it's safely unloaded and feeling for any wear it might have taken during the last day or so. "...Feels a whole lot heavier like this, but you can still tell how good the balance is." She sounds nearly affectionate. "Give me a second, I'll get the fusion rifle off as well."