Tamara had recently returned from the Crucible, the virtual reality simulator in which guardians trained by engaging in mock combat with one another. Such was a grueling experience and realistic in every detail. Even the greatest guardians went down from time to time and the violent experience of being "reset" wasn't something easily endured. It was partly why the Crucible bore its name. It was a realm in which they slowly burned away weakness and forged one into mighty warriors.

Lowering her hood she gazed out at city, the last city, spread out beneath her. Behind her and to the left, the Cryptarch or, at least, one of his acolytes was standing at a stall like a common merchant at the local market. She was a tall woman, lithe and sinuous. She moved like a panther. She possessed long crimson hair that pooled down into her lowered hood like it was filling a basket. Turning about, she strode towards the Vanguards and then changed direction towards the shipyards, moving silently by nature. One leg was sheathed in steel plating, the other was entirely bare. At her back was her trusty scout rifle, held in place due to a magnetic sling.

"I don't like leaving behind our jump ship," the small metallic floating hedgehog that was her ghost said, "f things go wrong and one of the team takes off in the shuttle what happens to the rest of us?"

"We are guardians my neurotic little friend," Tamara replied, "We do not abandon one another like the Fallen do."

"Guardians are still human," the small ball countered, "Have you read the surviving accounts of the Collapse? How the humans trampled each other in their haste to escape?"

"Those weren't Guardians," the huntress argued, "They weren't trained to defend themselves. It was the Golden Age. They hadn't seen a war in centuries."

"I'm just saying. I don't like having only one exit strategy. You guardians are far too sure of yourselves, so brash, so chaotic. We ghosts are like to make strategize."

"Yes. Yes. I know this argument. You want me being more patient and not rushing in. Have I ever gotten us into something we couldn't handle?"

"There's always a first time and that often ends up being the last too. Hold on... I'm receiving the transmit lockon."

As they entered the hangar bays past the Cryptarch the small ghost detected the carrier signal of the jumpship for the mission. The transmits were handy things, used to dematerialize weapons and equipment and even cargo. In this case they were relatively short ranged teleporters. While they were blocked by any solid mass they did allow a jumpship to insert or pickup a guardian with a simple flyby making their ability to implement surgical strikes akin to legendary. Locking onto that signal Tamara's ghost sent the confirmation that resulted in them being transported aboard in a shimmering column of light.