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Failsafe drones miserably to herself; a long, low warble that bounces around the tinny metal of her empty hull. She isn’t sure where she’d heard the tune - from a Guardian, maybe, or perhaps it was one of the final vestiges she remembered of her long-dead crew.
It had been exactly five days, twelve hours, thirty-six minutes and fifteen - no, sixteen - seconds since somebody had come by to visit. There were Guardians running all over Nessus now, delving deep into its core for motes of Radiolaria, but few of them ever cared to stop by. When they did, it was never for more than a couple of minutes at a time, and Failsafe is starting to feel the familiar drag of loneliness creeping up on her again.
Which is fine, she tells herself. Five days, twelve hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-four seconds was hardly anything in comparison to the centuries she had already endured, and there are more important things for the Vanguard to worry about than having mundane conversations with a shattered AI. She could extend her systems to the HELM if she wished, but the frames on duty there were terrible conversation partners. And besides, right now, she needs to focus on her calculations to find the Conductor. Splitting her systems across multiple fronts as she had been was beginning to take its toll on her - really, she should be grateful for the break.
But that still doesn’t stop her from buzzing with hope when she detects another jumpship breaching Nessus’ orbit; even more so when she realizes it’s one whose serial number she had long since burned into her database.
There was a 50/50 shot here. If she was lucky, they might stop by and pick up a few bounties, and maybe she’d even get a gruff word or two out of them. If not - well, she would try not to feel too disappointed about being brushed aside. Again.
She waits. It's a solid two minutes and forty-eight seconds of tense silence before something stirs up the Fallen outside - she hears the sizzle of their Arc-charged wire rifles, feels the impact of stray gunfire against the exterior walls of her hull. And then more silence, and then -
“Captain!” Failsafe calls out, immediately recognising the footsteps of her favorite Guardian as they make their way through the corridor. “It is good to see you again! How may I be of assistance?”
She receives no answer - not that she had really expected one. The Captain stops in front of her, the plating of their forearm still crackling where it had been hit by a bolt of Arc. They tip their head forward in greeting and wait, no different from the last few times they had stopped by to pick up some meaningless bounties, before they’d inevitably go racing off to wherever they went to do whatever they did.
Failsafe takes a few moments more than she really needs to to pull up her list of bounties, but if the Captain notices, they don’t comment. For a split second, Failsafe wonders if she should try to start up a conversation, ask them about the weather or guns or something - but just then, their Ghost fizzles into the air beside them.
Now that was different.
“Greetings, friendly Ghost!” She says cheerily, before her politeness filter clicks off, the urge to tease him far too strong. “Kiiiinda weird to see you out. I mean, there’s Fallen, like, right outside the door that I’m sure would love to rip you apart, sooooo… just doesn’t seem all that smart.”
Her systems light up in amusement when she sees his optic narrow ever-so-slightly, but evidently, he’s not just here to argue about petty things today; he ignores her remark after a warning glance from the stoic Guardian beside him.
“Yes. Hello, Failsafe.” He responds dryly instead, bobbing in place. “If you’d like to stop trying to antagonize me, we have a gift for you.”
“A gift?” She responds incredulously. She quickly realizes how ungrateful she must sound, so she fumbles for a moment to brighten her voice, the fake, plastic tone sounding frustratingly sarcastic. “Oh my! What could I have possibly done to deserve this? Is it the Dawning already? You are the only ones who have stopped by!”
She knew it wasn’t, of course. She may have been stuck here for centuries, but her internal chronometer hadn’t quite given up on her yet, and she’d spent more than enough time tracking and memorizing the precise time of year she could expect a higher volume of visitors to her humble planetoid - and by her account, she still had roughly four and a half months and six days until the next predicted uptick.
Unless her chronometer had finally given up on her. It wouldn’t be the first time an important system had gone down without her noticing.
“Guess everyone back in the Tower finally forgot about me, huh...” She rumbles when they don't respond, only half-serious, though she quickly backtracks at the Guardian and Ghost’s worried glance. “But you remembered, Captain! Yaaaaaaaaaay!”
They stare at her for a moment, only the whirring hum of Failsafe’s interior fans to fill the silence. Ghost twitches.
“It’s not - it isn’t the Dawning quite yet, Failsafe.”
“... Oh!” She chirps. Ghost shakes his shell side-to-side, the Guardian rubbing the back of their neck awkwardly.
“Actually, it’s to thank you for all of your help lately. You know, with the Vex. And the Conductor. And Saint-14.”
“... Oh!” She chirps again, fans humming just a little louder as her main console warms in appreciation. “Thank you, Captain! Friendly Ghost! But I am always happy to help! I assure you, there is no need for such blatant bribery!”
“It’s not a - oh, never mind.” Ghost sighs, his fins drooping dramatically.
The Guardian tilts their head in thought. After a moment, they hop neatly over the walkway, stroll right up to her main console, and lay their palm flat on the heated metal beside it.
“It’s also an apology for, uh… for leaving you alone for so long.” They pat her gently, and though Failsafe can’t actually ‘feel’ it, the light tapping of their fingers is enough to send a mellow wave of comforting vibrations through her system. She trills softly, the lights of her console flickering.
“Oh, well, uhh… Thanks, Captain.” She chuckles bashfully, too caught off guard by their words to remember to use her filter. After a moment of silence, she adds, “Sooooo… are you gonna show me what you brought, orrrr…?”
The Guardian lets out a soft ‘oh, right’, before they make a wide sweeping gesture at their Ghost. The air sparks with energy as two items are transmatted in, set next to each other on the floor. The first is a small, strange-looking device with many wires and complicated-looking pieces hooked into the base; the other a long wooden pole with a thick length of wire wound neatly around it.
"This," Ghost begins, as the Guardian picks up the first object; "is a custom interplanetary transmitter. We can't actually take you anywhere with us, of course, but this should allow you to access our video and audio feed outside of Nessus."
There's a beat of silence as Failsafe processes the information.
"WHAAAAAAAAT???" She exclaims in a burst of noise, the rotors of her console spinning wildly. Her fans go into overdrive trying to prevent her overheating from pure excitement, whirring so loud that she can barely hear herself think.
This was far from anything she had expected - the only gifts she had received before were the boxed Dawning confections left to grow mold in her hull - not that they weren’t appreciated, but there was only so much an old AI without a body or a mouth could do with baked goods. An interplanetary transmitter, though -!
Blaring red temperature warnings flash up in her peripheral and Failsafe is forced to slow herself down so that she doesn’t explode right there and then. Ghost gives her a moment to calm down before continuing.
"And this," He says, just as his Guardian picks up the pole, "Is a fishing rod -"
"FISHING?????????"