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The Setup | 2018 (IC)


Agent_Maine
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Welcome, Tenno – to a not so subtle situation…

A message has been sent to Tenno and Tenno sympathisers, asking for their aid. Enclosed in the message are the coordinates to a large dojo in orbit high above Pluto, which is known as the ‘Reaping Olympians’. While they are a fairly new clan, their numbers have been growing rapidly and they have been rumoured to have organized several successful missions against the Corpus within the first few months of their formation.

Rumour aside, those who have received the message are answering their summons, and both the clan’s docking bay and Grandest Hall are beginning to fill up. You are among these people, attracted to the call for help for one of many reasons. Perhaps you were light on credits? The reward for your assistance is supposedly quite high. Or maybe you have a sense of justice, and want to fight the Corpus no matter what?

Regardless of your intentions, you have come to the Reaping Olympians’ dojo to help. And this mission, will prove to be one joyful – but ultimately dangerous - ride.

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Spoiler

Before joining, read the OOC and post a character to be accepted:

Link to OOC.

Sanera sighed as she threw her Rakta Dark Dagger into the air, before catching it. She was sitting down at a table in the buffet area, covered from head to toe in her Red Veil Uniform. She had been sent by the Veil to assist the Reaping Olympians in whatever mission they had planned, since she was one of their most skilled agents.

But she had gotten here, and nothing had happened yet. Nothing flashy, no big appearances, no shining lights, she had simply been directed to Level 5 of the dojo and was now waiting in the buffet area because she didn’t have anything else to do.

She had several standard Red Veil Weapons holstered, such as the Rakta Cernos, Rakta Ballistica, and Rakta Dark Dagger, though she also had her preferred weapon – a Red Veil Machete with a blade that could heat up via a trigger on the handle. She had built it herself, and it had proven effective against many enemies – even against what could basically be considered the undead.

But right now, there was no use for weapons. Because there were no enemies. She was sitting in the buffet area of a Tenno dojo, simply waiting for something to happen. Perhaps I should just enjoy myself while I’m waiting. Sanera thought. She raised her hand as she pulled her Red Veil Mask off her face, releasing her short black hair and revealing her light skin. She had blue eyes, and freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Standing up, she walked over to the buffet table, and took some of the Martian Oasis Jellyfish. She then walked back and sat back down at the table, as she began to eat the Martian Oasis Jellyfish. “I thought it’d be hotter, being from Mars and all.” She remarked.

But it tastes pretty nice.

Pulling out her small communication device, it projected a holographic interface in front of her. Pressing a few buttons, she went to the message she had received earlier, which had prompted her journey to the Reaping Olympians’ dojo.

Spoiler

To Sanera Takos,

We have recently received an invitation from the Tenno Clan known as the ‘Reaping Olympians’ to their dojo as they seek assistance for one of their missions against the Corpus. We have already sent several Red Veil Agents to assist, but we feel that you must go as well. This is because the great Palladino has seen something.

She says that a threat exists within the Reaping Olympians’ mission. A threat of great destruction. If Palladino herself has acknowledged the importance of this mission, then we must send you, one of our best agents, there as well. Keep watch for anything that could be considered the ‘threat’ – Palladino has not gotten this vocal since the departure of Holy Rell and the release of the Indifference. All the other Red Veil Agents involved are aware of this as well.

Be careful.

Cantis.

And Sanera, simply sighed.

All she could do now, was wait until someone in charge appeared.

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Spoiler

Note: Your introduction posts can either have your OCs approaching the Reaping Olympians’ dojo to land, or have them already there. All the quiet stuff before the big mission will happen on Level 5 of the dojo – where all the invited people have been directed to. Level 5 is comprised of multiple large rooms and halls such as the buffet area, duelling room, et cetera.

 

Edited by Agent_Maine
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She wasn't the only one waiting. From one of the dueling rooms came the sounds of combat - heavily pitched and loud. Whoever was inside must've been taking on an army.

And Lysandra was doing exactly that. Though the red haze and lethargic perception of time through her adrenaline rush, the Zephyr was dancing between holographic foes - a near literal ocean of melee Grineer of all kinds, seemingly flowing from the walls and crashing against the metaphorical rocks of her fists and feet. Were this a true army, she imagined, her armour would've received a new full paint job ten minutes ago.

She had arrived some time ago. She had already pilfered the dining room, spent some time relaxing in the gardens and had grown bored with the fish. At that point she had decided to scratch a few itches and get ready for a potential fight by engaging in an actual (simulated) one. At first she had been content with simply trying flashy pistol tricks with her Brakk, but then they started getting into melee. Then the adrenaline hit her, and now her vocalizations and actions were reaching a point that most stereotypical Valkyr's would now be either backing away or trying to tell her to calm down.

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Against the backdrop of the sun, a small wedge-like shape streaked through space towards the dojo of the Reaping Olympians. The muted throaty roar of the ion drive in the landing craft, dubbed the "Epoch Voyager" hearkened back to an earlier time before fusion engines when internal combustion was king. The stainless steel finish of the landing craft gleamed as it approached the dojo's mandated docking request range. Pressing a button on the center console of the Epoch Voyager's interior, the craft's Symbiote Tenno pilot called up the holographic comms menu to send a docking request while turning the music that was playing inside down so that she could talk with the dojo's Incoming Traffic Control.

"This is Farah Kettaphen, requesting for docking permission for my landing craft from Reaping Olympians ITC. Authorization code: Oscar Uniform Tango Alpha Tango India Mike Echo. How copy?" 

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The Warframe flew accross the room, the air parting before her like a Heat Sword through Crewmen. With sublime skill Sab navigated the course, the smallest twitch letting her soar, the deepest dive letting her pass through gaps unhindered. With all the skill of a millennium old demigod she overcame her challenges, passing through the with air with all the skill of a hawk running down their prey, leading to a very vulgar curse when the Zephyr hitting the wall led to a game over, and revealed Sab only managed to get past 4 walls.

 

“This game is bullsh!t.”


Sab sighed and shut off the application, looking out from her seat in the buffet room. Around her she saw the hustle and bustle of an entire Clan's worth of Tenno, Symbiotes and Dweebs alike procuring food and conversing to themselves and between each other (some people were weird like that). A few had even chosen to still dawn their Warframes, so the lonely Valkyr with her uneaten bowl of crisps didn't look too out of place.


That security had so kindly insisted she left all explosives and jet inclined hammers back in her Liset probably helped too, they still hadn't forgotten about that incident with the Angstrum...


Bloody Primes.


The Valkyr  slouched back in her seat and booted up another game with a heavy sigh, projecting the holographic screen from her palm. Hopefully something was gonna happen soon, cause if she was gonna sit on her a$$ all day she might've well stayed home, save on the gas money.


Sab scrolled through her library and rested on a game she hadn't tried before. Darkest Derelict? Seems like fun.

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Takar had elected to enter this mission as herself, seeing as how it had worked out pretty well last time. She had met some new friends, some human, some tenno, and even a really nice kubrow.

Though, now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember entering this dojo. Or any other dojo. One second she's flying through space in her landing craft; the next she's opening her eyes to find herself in the dojo.

Maybe it has something to do with the dojo being similar to an Orokin tower, hidden in the void. In fact, dojos probably are just the crude reconstructions of Orokin tower design, hampered by the lack of knowledge lost at the fall of the empire.

But that was enough theoretical thought for now. Takar needed to find the meeting area, which the message said was on the 5th floor.

Time to find an elevator. At least the dojos don't have stairs.

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16 hours ago, Ghost333 said:

Though the red haze and lethargic perception of time through her adrenaline rush, the Zephyr was dancing between holographic foes - a near literal ocean of melee Grineer of all kinds, seemingly flowing from the walls and crashing against the metaphorical rocks of her fists and feet. Were this a true army, she imagined, her armour would've received a new full paint job ten minutes ago.



She had arrived some time ago. She had already pilfered the dining room, spent some time relaxing in the gardens and had grown bored with the fish. At that point she had decided to scratch a few itches and get ready for a potential fight by engaging in an actual (simulated) one. At first she had been content with simply trying flashy pistol tricks with her Brakk, but then they started getting into melee. Then the adrenaline hit her, and now her vocalizations and actions were reaching a point that most stereotypical Valkyr's would now be either backing away or trying to tell her to calm down.

When the mob of synthesized foes thinned and their dying cries faded, she would then hear the cheering coming from an onlooker - an excitable man peering eagerly through the two-way live feed of the stage. Clad in a suit of grey and white, he had a rather youthful, hairless face that beamed with glee as his shouts punctuated the flurry of blows the yellow Zephyr was unleashing. This face was framed by a retracted helmet, which looked suspiciously similar to that of an Excalibur's of some uncommon model. Surely he was no Tenno, but the presence of the crimson Asa Syandana that flowed behind his neck in a non-existent wind and the Prisma Skana sheathed on his back were clear hints that he was no simple colonist.

"Rushing Fire! Burning Desire!" he cried, following her movements and techniques closely as Grineer joints buckled and armour caved before her blows. Behind him, a passerby looked on in mild amusement at how this grown man was so animated and passionate, Kela De Thaym would want him in Rathuum's audience. She then shook her head and walked away smirking when he began mimicking the Zephyr's moves himself, punching and kicking thin air while calling out names from other Tenno sparring techniques. For despite physical appearance, he definitely brought to mind a memory of a six-year old in imitation of his favourite superhero in front of a computer screen. 

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Steam wafted up from the mug, gently rising into the air. Monty eyed it with a touch of sorrow. It would likely be his last mug of tea for a while. Proper tea at least. He didn't trust tea that he hadn't made himself after a friend of his had quite deliberately made a terrible cup of the stuff just to annoy him. He took a sip, letting the hot liquid slide down his throat, and smiled slightly. He was sitting on the sofa in the Orbiters personal quarters, and hadn't that been a nice discovery? 

If only it had a proper bed.

It did now, he'd taken out the shelves and put a fold up bed in the their place. He might not actually fight in person much of the time, but that didn't mean he didn't suffer from mental exhaustion from piloting a warframe. He also tested his natural body as well. He'd heard tales that the first Tenno to break the bounds of the Somatic link had been forcibly separated from their warframe for time. He didn't want to be in such a situation unprepared. So he trained his body, and worked with weapons as well, both his custom built amp and sword and pistol as well. He was not so sure of his skills that he would deploy without his warframe, but he was confident that he could defeat a few attackers with all that he had learnt.

He shook his head, focusing his wandering mind as a beep echoed through the quarters. 

"Yes Amphalia?" He asked.

Amphalia, the Cephalon within his orbiter, projected herself from the projector near the window. "We have crossed into Reaping Olympus' airspace," she announced, her deep green triangular projection pulsing as she spoke, "would you like me to request docking permission?"

"Please do so," Monty replied, inclining his head slightly and taking another sip of tea. He'd ensure it was finish before he had to link up with his warframe. 

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In the gloom of an approaching orbiter, an alert chimed as its credentials were verified and was granted permission to land. The pilot, pallid skin given a ghostly luminescence by the glow of her command console, wordlessly sent an acknowledgement to traffic control and keyed in the final approach vector. As her vessel approached she stared intently at the reams of sensor data cascading through her augmented vision, a hand hovering over a number of other pre-plotted routes. An observer might have noticed that all of these paths would take the ship out of the local volume, each one a dizzying series of acceleration bursts to foil hypothetical pursuers. But aside from the pilot, sitting in a tangled web of cables radiating out from her command chair, the ship was empty; an eerie stillness permeated throughout, more akin to a tomb than a spacecraft.
 
As the ship settled into orbit around the stations docking ring without incident, the pilot flicked on the autopilot and rose from her seat, pulling out the data cable from the prosthetic covering her ruined eye socket. She began to stride purposefully toward the launch bay, only to stop and whirl round, as if something had disturbed the oppressive silence. She stood tensely for a moment, glancing around in search of something unseen and unheard, before shaking her head and continuing on her way through the dimly lit corridors. A shade quicker than she had been.
 
An observer on the docks might have seen a flash of green light emerge from the orbiter, revealing itself to be a Liset class lander in black and gold livery as it weaved its way through the traffic clogging the bay. The passenger compartment was already spinning open as it locked itself onto one of the landing struts, its slender occupant barely breaking stride as her claw-tipped boots touched the platform. In the harsh light of the docks her deathly pallor became all too apparent; were she not casually pushing through the crowds one might easily have mistaken her for a fresh corpse. Her single eye, drained of all pigment but for the unsettling green glow emanating from within, flickered across the chamber as she made her way toward the elevator; those unfortunate enough to meet her gaze had the uncomfortable sensation of being appraised, then more often than not disregarded.
Edited by Askaris
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7 hours ago, Arunafeltz said:
Spoiler

When the mob of synthesized foes thinned and their dying cries faded, she would then hear the cheering coming from an onlooker - an excitable man peering eagerly through the two-way live feed of the stage. Clad in a suit of grey and white, he had a rather youthful, hairless face that beamed with glee as his shouts punctuated the flurry of blows the yellow Zephyr was unleashing. This face was framed by a retracted helmet, which looked suspiciously similar to that of an Excalibur's of some uncommon model. Surely he was no Tenno, but the presence of the crimson Asa Syandana that flowed behind his neck in a non-existent wind and the Prisma Skana sheathed on his back were clear hints that he was no simple colonist.

"Rushing Fire! Burning Desire!" he cried, following her movements and techniques closely as Grineer joints buckled and armour caved before her blows. Behind him, a passerby looked on in mild amusement at how this grown man was so animated and passionate, Kela De Thaym would want him in Rathuum's audience. She then shook her head and walked away smirking when he began mimicking the Zephyr's moves himself, punching and kicking thin air while calling out names from other Tenno sparring techniques. For despite physical appearance, he definitely brought to mind a memory of a six-year old in imitation of his favourite superhero in front of a computer screen. 

 

The birdbrain looked up at the screen, both unaware of its existence until now and unaware of the fact it was even on. And the rather energetic man on the other side of the screen confused her and made her worry about a few things
Firstly: how long had that screen been transmitting?
Secondly: How long had he been standing there?
Third: Why had the enemies stopped spawning? She hadn't told the room to stop. Was there some sort of kill limit? If so, why?
Fourth and final: Why was he yelling out nonsense words that meant nothing to her?

She decided to get some answers. She craned her neck back and forth, feeling the second skin of her Warframe melt from her face and flow into her flesh and freeing her facial features for the frantic fanatic to feast upon.
Metaphorically. She felt rather uneasy that he'd been potentially staring at her for over half an hour.
"Ya alright there, mate?" She called out, suddenly realizing that she was actually exhausted. Which explained why she was puffing and panting.
Damn adrenal after-effects. She thought, sitting down on the floor with a huff.

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In the tranquil scene of the Zen Garden sat a lone Warframe, one of a dark colouring, silent as they watch the fishes move about their daily life. The only noise coming from around them is their Taxon floating near them, the Ice Beam usually sitting in it not there, for security reasons. They sigh to themself and stay sitting, enjoying the silence, for now.

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Enoch sighed as he sat in the Communications Room of the Dojo. He was the Comms Officer - an important sounding job, to be sure, but it was probably the most boring job in the Origin System. Sitting there, talking to random people he didn't know for a brief period of time, before sitting there again as he waited for another person. He wished that he would get promoted to a more energetic job soon - because the only enjoyment he gets out of the current one is his break time where he gets to sit down and talk with his best friend Jeff. He likes Jeff. Everybody likes Jeff. The controls in front of him suddenly started to flash - as two incoming signals were attempting to contact the Reaping Olympians' dojo. Finally, something to do besides sit here and drink badly made coffee while staring out into space.

20 hours ago, MetroFallout said:

Against the backdrop of the sun, a small wedge-like shape streaked through space towards the dojo of the Reaping Olympians. The muted throaty roar of the ion drive in the landing craft, dubbed the "Epoch Voyager" hearkened back to an earlier time before fusion engines when internal combustion was king. The stainless steel finish of the landing craft gleamed as it approached the dojo's mandated docking request range. Pressing a button on the center console of the Epoch Voyager's interior, the craft's Symbiote Tenno pilot called up the holographic comms menu to send a docking request while turning the music that was playing inside down so that she could talk with the dojo's Incoming Traffic Control.

"This is Farah Kettaphen, requesting for docking permission for my landing craft from Reaping Olympians ITC. Authorization code: Oscar Uniform Tango Alpha Tango India Mike Echo. How copy?" 

"I read you, Miss Kettaphen. Your Authorization Code 'Oscar Uniform Tango Alpha Tango India Mike Echo' - jeez that's a mouthful - is accepted. Your docking permission is granted. Please proceed to the docking bay, I believe Landing Pad 034 is available." Epoch said. He then pressed a button on his controls, switching to the second incoming signal:

9 hours ago, Spikey844 said:

Steam wafted up from the mug, gently rising into the air. Monty eyed it with a touch of sorrow. It would likely be his last mug of tea for a while. Proper tea at least. He didn't trust tea that he hadn't made himself after a friend of his had quite deliberately made a terrible cup of the stuff just to annoy him. He took a sip, letting the hot liquid slide down his throat, and smiled slightly. He was sitting on the sofa in the Orbiters personal quarters, and hadn't that been a nice discovery? 

If only it had a proper bed.

It did now, he'd taken out the shelves and put a fold up bed in the their place. He might not actually fight in person much of the time, but that didn't mean he didn't suffer from mental exhaustion from piloting a warframe. He also tested his natural body as well. He'd heard tales that the first Tenno to break the bounds of the Somatic link had been forcibly separated from their warframe for time. He didn't want to be in such a situation unprepared. So he trained his body, and worked with weapons as well, both his custom built amp and sword and pistol as well. He was not so sure of his skills that he would deploy without his warframe, but he was confident that he could defeat a few attackers with all that he had learnt.

He shook his head, focusing his wandering mind as a beep echoed through the quarters. 

"Yes Amphalia?" He asked.

Amphalia, the Cephalon within his orbiter, projected herself from the projector near the window. "We have crossed into Reaping Olympus' airspace," she announced, her deep green triangular projection pulsing as she spoke, "would you like me to request docking permission?"

"Please do so," Monty replied, inclining his head slightly and taking another sip of tea. He'd ensure it was finish before he had to link up with his warframe. 

Enoch looked at the Authorization Code that the second ship had sent, before opening the Comm Link. "Your Authorization Code is accepted, Ship Cephalon. Please proceed to Landing Pad 035 in the docking bay, you'll be right next to another new arrival. Please get along with them, you never know, you might be fighting alongside them in the future." Enoch said.

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Spoiler
12 hours ago, -AoN-CanoLathra- said:

Takar had elected to enter this mission as herself, seeing as how it had worked out pretty well last time. She had met some new friends, some human, some tenno, and even a really nice kubrow.

Though, now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember entering this dojo. Or any other dojo. One second she's flying through space in her landing craft; the next she's opening her eyes to find herself in the dojo.

Maybe it has something to do with the dojo being similar to an Orokin tower, hidden in the void. In fact, dojos probably are just the crude reconstructions of Orokin tower design, hampered by the lack of knowledge lost at the fall of the empire.

But that was enough theoretical thought for now. Takar needed to find the meeting area, which the message said was on the 5th floor.

Time to find an elevator. At least the dojos don't have stairs.

 

9 hours ago, Askaris said:
In the gloom of an approaching orbiter, an alert chimed as its credentials were verified and was granted permission to land. The pilot, pallid skin given a ghostly luminescence by the glow of her command console, wordlessly sent an acknowledgement to traffic control and keyed in the final approach vector. As her vessel approached she stared intently at the reams of sensor data cascading through her augmented vision, a hand hovering over a number of other pre-plotted routes. An observer might have noticed that all of these paths would take the ship out of the local volume, each one a dizzying series of acceleration bursts to foil hypothetical pursuers. But aside from the pilot, sitting in a tangled web of cables radiating out from her command chair, the ship was empty; an eerie stillness permeated throughout, more akin to a tomb than a spacecraft.
 
As the ship settled into orbit around the stations docking ring without incident, the pilot flicked on the autopilot and rose from her seat, pulling out the data cable from the prosthetic covering her ruined eye socket. She began to stride purposefully toward the launch bay, only to stop and whirl round, as if something had disturbed the oppressive silence. She stood tensely for a moment, glancing around in search of something unseen and unheard, before shaking her head and continuing on her way through the dimly lit corridors. A shade quicker than she had been.
 
An observer on the docks might have seen a flash of green light emerge from the orbiter, revealing itself to be a Liset class lander in black and gold livery as it weaved its way through the traffic clogging the bay. The passenger compartment was already spinning open as it locked itself onto one of the landing struts, its slender occupant barely breaking stride as her claw-tipped boots touched the platform. In the harsh light of the docks her deathly pallor became all too apparent; were she not casually pushing through the crowds one might easily have mistaken her for a fresh corpse. Her single eye, drained of all pigment but for the unsettling green glow emanating from within, flickered across the chamber as she made her way toward the elevator; those unfortunate enough to meet her gaze had the uncomfortable sensation of being appraised, then more often than not disregarded.

 

As Takar and the other ship's mysterious occupant walked across the docking bay and towards the elevator, they would suddenly both be met with a large Rhino who was standing guard, holding an Orthos. He was colored black, grey, green and brown, with a Thrak Helmet and a long Broca Syandana. A Glyph was visible on his shoulder, most likely the Glyph used by the Reaping Olympians. The Rhino glanced at both of them, before sighing. He motioned towards the elevator. "Both of you, take the elevator to Level 5. Every person who has been invited will be going there. Once everyone has arrived and preparations are finished, the higher-ups will come to inform you about the mission in question." The Rhino said.

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14 hours ago, IceDragonofAmber said:

The Warframe flew accross the room, the air parting before her like a Heat Sword through Crewmen. With sublime skill Sab navigated the course, the smallest twitch letting her soar, the deepest dive letting her pass through gaps unhindered. With all the skill of a millennium old demigod she overcame her challenges, passing through the with air with all the skill of a hawk running down their prey, leading to a very vulgar curse when the Zephyr hitting the wall led to a game over, and revealed Sab only managed to get past 4 walls.

 

“This game is bullsh!t.”


Sab sighed and shut off the application, looking out from her seat in the buffet room. Around her she saw the hustle and bustle of an entire Clan's worth of Tenno, Symbiotes and Dweebs alike procuring food and conversing to themselves and between each other (some people were weird like that). A few had even chosen to still dawn their Warframes, so the lonely Valkyr with her uneaten bowl of crisps didn't look too out of place.


That security had so kindly insisted she left all explosives and jet inclined hammers back in her Liset probably helped too, they still hadn't forgotten about that incident with the Angstrum...


Bloody Primes.


The Valkyr  slouched back in her seat and booted up another game with a heavy sigh, projecting the holographic screen from her palm. Hopefully something was gonna happen soon, cause if she was gonna sit on her a$$ all day she might've well stayed home, save on the gas money.


Sab scrolled through her library and rested on a game she hadn't tried before. Darkest Derelict? Seems like fun.

Sanera glanced over to the Valkyr who was sitting at a nearby table...playing games? She certainly didn't expect to see that. Did Tenno play games? She thought that Tenno, specifically those who were involved in the Old War, would have been all about 'fighting' and less 'gaming'. To be honest, since she's been with the Red Veil since birth, she didn't even know that gaming devices existed outside of the colonies and protected areas on planets such as Earth and Phobos. Maybe the Valkyr went and bought it from a place like that?

"I didn't know Tenno, specifically the Valkyrs which are known for their bloodthirst and anger, play video games." She remarked as she glanced over towards Sab.

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-meanwhile, 200 light-seconds away from clan controlled space-

"Celeste - reduce sped and line up for drop-out. Boot up the comms while you're at it - don't want to be rude by sitting in their airspace, waiting to get the frequency scan over and done with"

"I am sweeping through frequencies as we speak, Mr Edwards - ETA to the Reaping Olympians' Dojo: 40 seconds." The AI responded in her ever-smooth accent of hers.

Lucas let out another exasperated sigh as he looked over to the comms panel to double check the processes as they were carried out.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that - it's just Lucas. 'Mr Edwards' makes me sound like a #*!%ing corpus executive wringing the last of the money out of some poor soul trying to make a living..."

The AI let out a small chuckle, and replied shortly after - "I just enjoy a little conversation from time to time - and that always seems to spark one without fail"

Much to his relief, the AI went about her duties as he prepared to transmit his clearance once they dropped out.

The ship he was flying was certainly, different, by origin system standards. Gleefully "liberated" from a corpus research base a few years ago while he was looking for a bit of sabotage to conduct, the ship was positively ancient by modern standards (at least according to the notes he found of the base computers as he was rummaging through them). It pre-dated even the earliest know orokin designs by at least a thousand years, maybe more, and surprisingly enough, with a few retro-fits and a bit of proverbial and physical duct tape, it turned out to be one of the best damned ships he's ever flown. Of course it has it's quirks. It's drive, for one, doesn't utilise void energy or rails in the slightest. It seems to use some unknown method to manipulate gravitational fields around the vessel, effectively moving space around it instead of having the ship plunge through it as it would normally. This allows for incredibly efficient FTL travel within a system, and theoretically beyond that, too. However he wasn't too keen to test that one out after hearing some rumours lately. Also, the reactor and thrusters alike run on nothing more than energy from the sun - just get close enough while in super-cruise to scoop up whatever the hell it uses as fuel from the corona of the fireball, and you're good to go for another week or so.

Sleek, stealthy, built like a tank, plenty of room inside for cargo and living spaces alike, and packing plenty of firepower to boot, the "Deliverance", as named because that's what it said on the side when he found it, was the perfect home-away from home for someone like Lucas Edwards. whenever he's in between jobs and doesn't feel like docking at a relay (and it is a pain because this ship is too large for most docking pads of tenno design), he just pulls over, shuts down the thrusters and proceeds to lay low for a few days.

Shortly, though, the ship drops out of super-cruise, Luckily the ship has its transmitter running already, otherwise the station wouldn't have even noticed it come in, unless the operator was looking for a very specific disturbance in the gravitational fields of the surrounding void.

Celeste piped up again, luckily not wanting to make another jab at him this time.

"Supercruise disengaged, Thrusters online. Comms enabled. Awaiting approach vector."

Lucas gets himself into gear, and begins his docking request.
"Olympian tower, this is Lucas Edwards on-board the Deliverance. Call-sign "X-Ray", "Delta", "Bravo". Requesting approach vector and docking clearance. How copy?"

Edited by Locky122
one typo...that is all
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Amidst the endless space...

Among the twinkling burning stars and hovering above the Planet of Venus...

A blue Corpus airship of special design was sitting aimlessly in orbit patiently awaiting commands; in the cockpit, the pilot growing more restless with each passing second.

Falon Rust yawned as he laid snugly in the pilot's chair.

"Ugh!"

He eyed his inbox yet again; still empty. Well, it was filled in reality, but only a fool would accept the contract to kill one of those space ninjas.

A beep broke his momentary rest.

A new message.

"You'd better not want me to kill an Excalibur..." Falon complained to no one in particular.

A message from a Tenno clan; the Reaping Olympians.

"Ain't that the Corpus killing clan?"

The contents of the message was truly unbelievable. An invitation for Falon Rust to join them alongside many others to execute a mission. An invitation too good to be true. Falon pinched himself to make sure this wasn't one of his wicked dreams. The credits. The mission. Most of all. The target.

The Corpus.

Punching commands into the control console, the airship's engines sparkled to life again as it prepared for light speed travel. Sparks were produced; visible energy flowed within its veins. The message contained an approach vector for those invited to take; a direct passage to the dojo of the mysterious Corpus killers.

The ship darted into the jet black space; leaving behind a blue trail of energy as it disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Approaching target destination in 5...4..." the ship's computer stared to countdown, signalling for Falon to wake up.

"Never gets old..." Falon uttered under his breath as the countdown reached to a stop.

The airship exited light speed; the whirling of space around him dissipated as the ship came to an abrupt halt, jerking the pilot forward as a familiar Tenno structure situated above the distant Pluto greeted him. Falon Rust stared in awe at the beautiful dojo. Even the exterior was enough to make his jaw drop to the floor, now he wondered whether the interior lived up to his expectations.

Shaking his head, the man got back to work.

He tapped another button on the command console; establishing a communication link to the dojo's control tower.

"This is Falon Rust of Mustang Gamma speaking, I have an invitation to your little...party. Requesting permission to dock, over."

Chattering could be heard from the other side of the radio as Falon slouched back into his chair.

"Should I say...thank you...?" Falon hesitated.

He gingerly pressed the button again.

"Thank you."

The man was like a fish out of water when it came to helping the Tenno. Even the word "Tenno" seemed to be new to him now. He only hoped he wasn't the only fish gasping for air as he glanced at the other ships approaching from all directions. Ships of all origins and designs; Grineer, Tenno... The other ships started to hover towards the dojo.

Clearly the killer wasn't alone.

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5 hours ago, Agent_Maine said:

Enoch looked at the Authorization Code that the second ship had sent, before opening the Comm Link. "Your Authorization Code is accepted, Ship Cephalon. Please proceed to Landing Pad 035 in the docking bay, you'll be right next to another new arrival. Please get along with them, you never know, you might be fighting alongside them in the future." Enoch said.

Amphalia relayed acknowledgement to the Comms Officer, before focusing on bringing the Orbiter closer. Monty trusted her with this, as well as keeping the Orbiter safe, but he often piloted the landing craft himself, while she slipped into a support role. 

In his quarters, Monty continued drinking his tea, while also reviewing his loadout for the upcoming mission. Weapons were fairly easy. His beloved Paris Prime, modified and polarised to the nines and then some, was his choice of primary, while he selected his Pyrana Prime for a side arm. It was always useful to have a short ranged backup with his bow. Much as he liked the stopping power of the Lex Prime and other hand cannons, the rapid rate of fire of the compact shotgun was too useful. An Eisen long sword was his last choice, an effective weapon in many scenarios. His Warframe though...

The transference link pulsed slightly, and he tilted his head. Umbra wants to fight huh? He considered for a moment, then nodded, sending an affirmative back down the transference link. He drained the last of his tea then rose, heading to a small wardrobe he'd installed. Inside were both more comfortable clothes for wearing between missions, as well as his transference suit. He removed his casual wear, then donned first the under-suit, followed by his blue and grey Commodore Prime transference suit. He rolled his shoulders and shook her legs, making sure it was all fitted properly, then headed out his quarters to the armoury. Umbra was standing there, arms crossed, weapons already holstered. Monty rolled his eyes. Umbra was definitely eager to get out. He opened up the armoury, retrieving the Lato pistol and Cermaic dagger that he carried outside his warframe, holstering them on either hip. He debated activating his transference suit's shield generator, then decided against it. Once combat was likely, he'd turn it on, but it wouldn't be needed until then. 

With his own weapons sorted, he looked up and met Umbra's 'eyes'. Or where they would be at any rate.

"Ready?" He asked. Umbra nodded. Monty flipped the blindfold up onto his face, closed his eyes, and let the void flow through him. When he opened them again, he was seeing through Umbra's Neurol-optics. He could feel Umbra's mental presence, the warframe's intelligence stronger than that of any he'd piloted. They were not master and slave, but partners in this. Monty may have the final say in things, but Umbra wasn't a dumb animal, and Monty refused to treat him as such.

He rolled Umbra's, now his, shoulders, ensuring the transference link was stable, before turning and searching for his Kavat. He found it up by the nav console, staring out into space. Again.

"You're a muppet aren't you?" he muttered, stroking her head. The Smeeta Kavat purred as she leaned into his armoured hand. In a moment of flippancy, he'd nearly named her Tiddles, but had settled on Sara. "Come on," he continued, "we've got a mission." Sara meowed and got to her feet. She watched him go as she stretched then followed him to the landing craft's entrance. A minute later, with all its occupants installed, the Liset Prime detached from the Orbiter, its drives cycling up as it accelerated towards the dojo, Monty guiding it in himself, before letting the automatic landing systems take over for the final approach and docking. The lock cycled, spinning him out of the craft, and he stepped forward. He glanced left and right. Apparently another would be landing along side him.

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Somewhere in the depths of space hangs a liset-class landing craft clad in the colors of the twilit sky, within which a life-changing decision was to be made. A pair of burnt brown orbs scan a message for what seems to be the umpteenth time, poring over every word as if by staring hard enough, she would be able to uncover some deeper, hidden meaning in the letters. It was an interesting proposition, but it could just as easily be a trap.

“Let it never be said that Vayan Korosh would not take risks for the sake of knowledge,” she mutters under her breath, before dismissing the message.

Slowly, her face sinks into her palms, the gentle coolness of the gloves against her eyes serving to soothe her searing migraine perhaps just a slight amount. A gentle shake of her head is the only treatment she can afford before her attention is back to the prototype that she’d been tinkering with for over 48 hours now. It was simply too volatile. The payload would never survive till impact at the velocities it would be travelling. She needed to restart.

“Spec. Set course for the dojo of the Reaping Olympians and-”


The sharp pain tearing through every inch of her skull interrupted her request for more materials. Although it was true that the cutting edge of science waited for no man, but… perhaps a short nap was in order.

“Prepare my bed, please.”

A chirp of sound from the muted Cephalon indicated a confirmation of the commands. Vayan turns her body on the chair as techno-organic arms scoop her up, cradling her like a mother and her child. She allows herself to melt into the embrace as she is carried to the bed, the cool skin of the Nyx comforting against hers. She’s out as soon as she feels the softness of the mattress, asleep in the arms of a war machine.

---

An indeterminate amount of time later and the ship was hanging just outside of Reaping Olympus space, awaiting the completion of all preparations. Vayan runs through her mental checklist one more time.

Syringes? Loaded. Clothes? Tidied. Somatic link? Stabilised. Irritatingly sassy Cephalon? For some god awful reason, present.

“Preparations complete. Vayan Korosh and Warframe Nyx ready for deployment. Cephalon Spec, request permission to dock.”

“Would you like me to request a couple’s room,” inquires a deep, feminine voice ringing out from nowhere in particular.

“I didn’t realise your ego would be joining us on this trip, cephalon,” responds the Tenno with nary a second thought, before muting the ungodly creature, stopping it from voicing any more unwelcome remarks.

 

Edited by DaMadReaper
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9 hours ago, Agent_Maine said:

Enoch sighed as he sat in the Communications Room of the Dojo. He was the Comms Officer - an important sounding job, to be sure, but it was probably the most boring job in the Origin System. Sitting there, talking to random people he didn't know for a brief period of time, before sitting there again as he waited for another person. He wished that he would get promoted to a more energetic job soon - because the only enjoyment he gets out of the current one is his break time where he gets to sit down and talk with his best friend Jeff. He likes Jeff. Everybody likes Jeff. The controls in front of him suddenly started to flash - as two incoming signals were attempting to contact the Reaping Olympians' dojo. Finally, something to do besides sit here and drink badly made coffee while staring out into space.

"I read you, Miss Kettaphen. Your Authorization Code 'Oscar Uniform Tango Alpha Tango India Mike Echo' - jeez that's a mouthful - is accepted. Your docking permission is granted. Please proceed to the docking bay, I believe Landing Pad 034 is available." Epoch said. He then pressed a button on his controls, switching to the second incoming signal.

"Understood. Approaching now." said Farah before switching over to let her Cephalon, Al, take control of the lander. "Al, you have control?"

"Yes, I do. I will bring us down for a landing." came the calm reply from the male-sounding Cephalon. "Engaging docking protocols."

As the landing craft glided towards the indicated landing pad, she switched the music that was playing on her stereo to something a bit more appropriate for the landing. An extremely old piece of music composed eons ago, all that remains is the history of the piece was its name, unforgettable even if the name of the composer was lost to history... the Blue Danube Waltz.

"Never really gets old this." she thought to herself with a grin, adjusting her sunglasses using her thumb.

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Without fanfare, an orbiter was making its way to the dojo, with the single tenno in it at the helm.

"Sophocles, we are getting close to our host's Dojo. Standard boarding procedureplease, add the security key they gave us."

"Your wish is my command, Operator. Scanning frequencies, ready for contact"

The Cephalon's voice was cool and respectful, without being subservient, There was a certain warmth in their voice, especially for an AI.

"This is Tenno ship Wisdom, we come here invited. Forwarding our access key as sent. Requesting permission to dock. If you have any securities requirement, please specifiy so and they will be taken into consideration, otherwise the operator shall come in bearing their full loadout."

 

 

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21 hours ago, Ghost333 said:

The birdbrain looked up at the screen, both unaware of its existence until now and unaware of the fact it was even

on. And the rather energetic man on the other side of the screen confused her and made her worry about a few things
Firstly: how long had that screen been transmitting?
Secondly: How long had he been standing there?
Third: Why had the enemies stopped spawning? She hadn't told the room to stop. Was there some sort of kill limit? If so, why?
Fourth and final: Why was he yelling out nonsense words that meant nothing to her?

She decided to get some answers. She craned her neck back and forth, feeling the second skin of her Warframe melt from her face and flow into her flesh and freeing her facial features for the frantic fanatic to feast upon.
Metaphorically. She felt rather uneasy that he'd been potentially staring at her for over half an hour.
"Ya alright there, mate?" She called out, suddenly realizing that she was actually exhausted. Which explained why she was puffing and panting.
Damn adrenal after-effects. She thought, sitting down on the floor with a huff.

"Alright? Me? Oh sure of course." he replied through the screen. "But know who's not alright? All those Grineer dogs, if they were real!"

Now that the enemies had stopped spawning, he took it that the simulation was over. He clapped wildly and whooped, utterly satisfied by the show he had just been treated to.

"That was great, Tenno! I really liked that Mountain's Rage hammer blow. And that Rolling Doom! Or Rising Gale? Well, one of them anyway..."

Trailing off with his not entirely accurate identification of unarmed fighting stances that the Zephyr may not even have been using, he began thrusting and punching the air again in mimicry of what he had witnessed. The man's presence in the Dojo, knowledge of Tenno martial arts and lack of a vaguely surprised reaction at her Symbiote nature showed that he was familiar enough with Tenno, while his weapons clearly indicated that he was a combatant. But for another mercenary answering the Olympians' call, this raving fanatic wasn't nearly quite as serious as one would expect.

Edited by Arunafeltz
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3 minutes ago, Arunafeltz said:
Spoiler

"Alright? Me? Oh sure of course." he replied through the screen. "But know who's not alright? All those Grineer dogs, if they were real!"

Now that the enemies had stopped spawning, he took it that the simulation was over. He clapped wildly and whooped, utterly satisfied by the show he had just been treated to.

"That was great, Tenno! I really liked that Mountain's Rage hammer blow. And that Rolling Doom! Or Rising Gale? Well, one of them anyway..."

Trailing off with his not entirely accurate identification of unarmed fighting stances that the Zephyr may not even have been using, he began thrusting and punching the air again in mimicry of what he had witnessed. The man's presence in the Dojo, knowledge of Tenno martial arts and lack of a vaguely surprised reaction at her Symbiote nature showed that he was familiar enough with Tenno, while his weapons clearly indicated that he was a combatant. But for another mercenary answering the Olympians' call, this raving fanatic wasn't nearly quite as serious as one would expect.

 

Lysandra's concern only grew with each over-exaggerated blow the Adoring Fan made. She honestly wouldn't have been surprised to find a cone of blonde hair under that helmet of his.
Not to mention she wasn't even fighting with a stance. She was raining blows randomly, occasionally ripping a digital limb of and using it to shatter the virtual skull of some unfortunate Butcher. The fact that her onlooker was treating her as a more serious entity than she was was very worrying.

In fact, how the hell did he even get in here!?

"Riiiiiight..." She droned, shaking her arms off, standing up and making a hasty retreat out of the room and, hopefully, walking off in the opposite direction of the Fan. She didn't know where the viewing screen was. "I'm just...gonna go."

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Enoch's eyes widened as suddenly, more and more signals began to contact the Reaping Olympians' dojo. "Jeez, I didn't expect us to get THIS popular." He remarked, pressing several buttons on the controls in front of him as he answered the first signal. Sipping his coffee, he sighed as he begun to speak.

12 hours ago, Locky122 said:

-meanwhile, 200 light-seconds away from clan controlled space-

"Celeste - reduce sped and line up for drop-out. Boot up the comms while you're at it - don't want to be rude by sitting in their airspace, waiting to get the frequency scan over and done with"

"I am sweeping through frequencies as we speak, Mr Edwards - ETA to the Reaping Olympians' Dojo: 40 seconds." The AI responded in her ever-smooth accent of hers.

Lucas let out another exasperated sigh as he looked over to the comms panel to double check the processes as they were carried out.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that - it's just Lucas. 'Mr Edwards' makes me sound like a #*!%ing corpus executive wringing the last of the money out of some poor soul trying to make a living..."

The AI let out a small chuckle, and replied shortly after - "I just enjoy a little conversation from time to time - and that always seems to spark one without fail"

Much to his relief, the AI went about her duties as he prepared to transmit his clearance once they dropped out.

The ship he was flying was certainly, different, by origin system standards. Gleefully "liberated" from a corpus research base a few years ago while he was looking for a bit of sabotage to conduct, the ship was positively ancient by modern standards (at least according to the notes he found of the base computers as he was rummaging through them). It pre-dated even the earliest know orokin designs by at least a thousand years, maybe more, and surprisingly enough, with a few retro-fits and a bit of proverbial and physical duct tape, it turned out to be one of the best damned ships he's ever flown. Of course it has it's quirks. It's drive, for one, doesn't utilise void energy or rails in the slightest. It seems to use some unknown method to manipulate gravitational fields around the vessel, effectively moving space around it instead of having the ship plunge through it as it would normally. This allows for incredibly efficient FTL travel within a system, and theoretically beyond that, too. However he wasn't too keen to test that one out after hearing some rumours lately. Also, the reactor and thrusters alike run on nothing more than energy from the sun - just get close enough while in super-cruise to scoop up whatever the hell it uses as fuel from the corona of the fireball, and you're good to go for another week or so.

Sleek, stealthy, built like a tank, plenty of room inside for cargo and living spaces alike, and packing plenty of firepower to boot, the "Deliverance", as named because that's what it said on the side when he found it, was the perfect home-away from home for someone like Lucas Edwards. whenever he's in between jobs and doesn't feel like docking at a relay (and it is a pain because this ship is too large for most docking pads of tenno design), he just pulls over, shuts down the thrusters and proceeds to lay low for a few days.

Shortly, though, the ship drops out of super-cruise, Luckily the ship has its transmitter running already, otherwise the station wouldn't have even noticed it come in, unless the operator was looking for a very specific disturbance in the gravitational fields of the surrounding void.

Celeste piped up again, luckily not wanting to make another jab at him this time.

"Supercruise disengaged, Thrusters online. Comms enabled. Awaiting approach vector."

Lucas gets himself into gear, and begins his docking request.
"Olympian tower, this is Lucas Edwards on-board the Deliverance. Call-sign "X-Ray", "Delta", "Bravo". Requesting approach vector and docking clearance. How copy?"

"I read you, Deliverance," Enoch responded, analyzing the Call-Sign Lucas had said. "Authorization Code accepted. Please proceed to Landing Pad 036." Pressing another button, he switched to the next signal.

12 hours ago, (PS4)qwerty1310 said:

Amidst the endless space...

Among the twinkling burning stars and hovering above the Planet of Venus...

A blue Corpus airship of special design was sitting aimlessly in orbit patiently awaiting commands; in the cockpit, the pilot growing more restless with each passing second.

Falon Rust yawned as he laid snugly in the pilot's chair.

"Ugh!"

He eyed his inbox yet again; still empty. Well, it was filled in reality, but only a fool would accept the contract to kill one of those space ninjas.

A beep broke his momentary rest.

A new message.

"You'd better not want me to kill an Excalibur..." Falon complained to no one in particular.

A message from a Tenno clan; the Reaping Olympians.

"Ain't that the Corpus killing clan?"

The contents of the message was truly unbelievable. An invitation for Falon Rust to join them alongside many others to execute a mission. An invitation too good to be true. Falon pinched himself to make sure this wasn't one of his wicked dreams. The credits. The mission. Most of all. The target.

The Corpus.

Punching commands into the control console, the airship's engines sparkled to life again as it prepared for light speed travel. Sparks were produced; visible energy flowed within its veins. The message contained an approach vector for those invited to take; a direct passage to the dojo of the mysterious Corpus killers.

The ship darted into the jet black space; leaving behind a blue trail of energy as it disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Approaching target destination in 5...4..." the ship's computer stared to countdown, signalling for Falon to wake up.

"Never gets old..." Falon uttered under his breath as the countdown reached to a stop.

The airship exited light speed; the whirling of space around him dissipated as the ship came to an abrupt halt, jerking the pilot forward as a familiar Tenno structure situated above the distant Pluto greeted him. Falon Rust stared in awe at the beautiful dojo. Even the exterior was enough to make his jaw drop to the floor, now he wondered whether the interior lived up to his expectations.

Shaking his head, the man got back to work.

He tapped another button on the command console; establishing a communication link to the dojo's control tower.

"This is Falon Rust of Mustang Gamma speaking, I have an invitation to your little...party. Requesting permission to dock, over."

Chattering could be heard from the other side of the radio as Falon slouched back into his chair.

"Should I say...thank you...?" Falon hesitated.

He gingerly pressed the button again.

"Thank you."

The man was like a fish out of water when it came to helping the Tenno. Even the word "Tenno" seemed to be new to him now. He only hoped he wasn't the only fish gasping for air as he glanced at the other ships approaching from all directions. Ships of all origins and designs; Grineer, Tenno... The other ships started to hover towards the dojo.

Clearly the killer wasn't alone.

Enoch analysed the code that Falon Rust had sent, before activating the Comms Link. "Authorization Code accepted, Mustang Gamma. Proceed to Landing Pad 037." He said, before moving onto the next signal. He sighed as he drank from his coffee again, before speaking.

7 hours ago, DaMadReaper said:

Somewhere in the depths of space hangs a liset-class landing craft clad in the colors of the twilit sky, within which a life-changing decision was to be made. A pair of burnt brown orbs scan a message for what seems to be the umpteenth time, poring over every word as if by staring hard enough, she would be able to uncover some deeper, hidden meaning in the letters. It was an interesting proposition, but it could just as easily be a trap.

“Let it never be said that Vayan Korosh would not take risks for the sake of knowledge,” she mutters under her breath, before dismissing the message.

Slowly, her face sinks into her palms, the gentle coolness of the gloves against her eyes serving to soothe her searing migraine perhaps just a slight amount. A gentle shake of her head is the only treatment she can afford before her attention is back to the prototype that she’d been tinkering with for over 48 hours now. It was simply too volatile. The payload would never survive till impact at the velocities it would be travelling. She needed to restart.

“Spec. Set course for the dojo of the Reaping Olympians and-”


The sharp pain tearing through every inch of her skull interrupted her request for more materials. Although it was true that the cutting edge of science waited for no man, but… perhaps a short nap was in order.

“Prepare my bed, please.”

A chirp of sound from the muted Cephalon indicated a confirmation of the commands. Vayan turns her body on the chair as techno-organic arms scoop her up, cradling her like a mother and her child. She allows herself to melt into the embrace as she is carried to the bed, the cool skin of the Nyx comforting against hers. She’s out as soon as she feels the softness of the mattress, asleep in the arms of a war machine.

---

An indeterminate amount of time later and the ship was hanging just outside of Reaping Olympus space, awaiting the completion of all preparations. Vayan runs through her mental checklist one more time.

Syringes? Loaded. Clothes? Tidied. Somatic link? Stabilised. Irritatingly sassy Cephalon? For some god awful reason, present.

“Preparations complete. Vayan Korosh and Warframe Nyx ready for deployment. Cephalon Spec, request permission to dock.”

“Would you like me to request a couple’s room,” inquires a deep, feminine voice ringing out from nowhere in particular.

“I didn’t realise your ego would be joining us on this trip, cephalon,” responds the Tenno with nary a second thought, before muting the ungodly creature, stopping it from voicing any more unwelcome remarks.

"Your Authorization Code is accepted, 'Cephalon Spec'. Landing Pad 038 is available." Enoch said. Glancing towards the list of incoming signals, he could see that there was one more. There's another one? Damn, I did not expect us to get this many people. I guess the promise of money really attracted a lot of people. He thought, taking a sip of his badly made - but ultimately tasty - coffee. He answered the final signal.

57 minutes ago, 404Cygni said:

Without fanfare, an orbiter was making its way to the dojo, with the single tenno in it at the helm.

"Sophocles, we are getting close to our host's Dojo. Standard boarding procedure please, add the security key they gave us."

"Your wish is my command, Operator. Scanning frequencies, ready for contact"

The Cephalon's voice was cool and respectful, without being subservient, There was a certain warmth in their voice, especially for an AI.

"This is Tenno ship Wisdom, we come here invited. Forwarding our access key as sent. Requesting permission to dock. If you have any securities requirement, please specifiy so and they will be taken into consideration, otherwise the operator shall come in bearing their full loadout."

Enoch analysed the access key, before sighing. "Tenno Ship 'Wisdom', your Authorization Code is accepted. Please proceed over to Landing Pad 039. On the matters of security requirements, standard weaponry is allowed. However, highly explosive or destructive weapons such as the Angrstrum or Jat Kittag are prohibited from bringing into the dojo, due to previous incidents in another dojo with a very angry Valkyr. Please leave any such weapons in your ship, you may retrieve them later for use during the mission if needed." Enoch said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spoiler
11 hours ago, Spikey844 said:

Amphalia relayed acknowledgement to the Comms Officer, before focusing on bringing the Orbiter closer. Monty trusted her with this, as well as keeping the Orbiter safe, but he often piloted the landing craft himself, while she slipped into a support role. 

In his quarters, Monty continued drinking his tea, while also reviewing his loadout for the upcoming mission. Weapons were fairly easy. His beloved Paris Prime, modified and polarised to the nines and then some, was his choice of primary, while he selected his Pyrana Prime for a side arm. It was always useful to have a short ranged backup with his bow. Much as he liked the stopping power of the Lex Prime and other hand cannons, the rapid rate of fire of the compact shotgun was too useful. An Eisen long sword was his last choice, an effective weapon in many scenarios. His Warframe though...

The transference link pulsed slightly, and he tilted his head. Umbra wants to fight huh? He considered for a moment, then nodded, sending an affirmative back down the transference link. He drained the last of his tea then rose, heading to a small wardrobe he'd installed. Inside were both more comfortable clothes for wearing between missions, as well as his transference suit. He removed his casual wear, then donned first the under-suit, followed by his blue and grey Commodore Prime transference suit. He rolled his shoulders and shook her legs, making sure it was all fitted properly, then headed out his quarters to the armoury. Umbra was standing there, arms crossed, weapons already holstered. Monty rolled his eyes. Umbra was definitely eager to get out. He opened up the armoury, retrieving the Lato pistol and Cermaic dagger that he carried outside his warframe, holstering them on either hip. He debated activating his transference suit's shield generator, then decided against it. Once combat was likely, he'd turn it on, but it wouldn't be needed until then. 

With his own weapons sorted, he looked up and met Umbra's 'eyes'. Or where they would be at any rate.

"Ready?" He asked. Umbra nodded. Monty flipped the blindfold up onto his face, closed his eyes, and let the void flow through him. When he opened them again, he was seeing through Umbra's Neurol-optics. He could feel Umbra's mental presence, the warframe's intelligence stronger than that of any he'd piloted. They were not master and slave, but partners in this. Monty may have the final say in things, but Umbra wasn't a dumb animal, and Monty refused to treat him as such.

He rolled Umbra's, now his, shoulders, ensuring the transference link was stable, before turning and searching for his Kavat. He found it up by the nav console, staring out into space. Again.

"You're a muppet aren't you?" he muttered, stroking her head. The Smeeta Kavat purred as she leaned into his armoured hand. In a moment of flippancy, he'd nearly named her Tiddles, but had settled on Sara. "Come on," he continued, "we've got a mission." Sara meowed and got to her feet. She watched him go as she stretched then followed him to the landing craft's entrance. A minute later, with all its occupants installed, the Liset Prime detached from the Orbiter, its drives cycling up as it accelerated towards the dojo, Monty guiding it in himself, before letting the automatic landing systems take over for the final approach and docking. The lock cycled, spinning him out of the craft, and he stepped forward. He glanced left and right. Apparently another would be landing along side him.

 

7 hours ago, MetroFallout said:

"Understood. Approaching now." said Farah before switching over to let her Cephalon, Al, take control of the lander. "Al, you have control?"

"Yes, I do. I will bring us down for a landing." came the calm reply from the male-sounding Cephalon. "Engaging docking protocols."

As the landing craft glided towards the indicated landing pad, she switched the music that was playing on her stereo to something a bit more appropriate for the landing. An extremely old piece of music composed eons ago, all that remains is the history of the piece was its name, unforgettable even if the name of the composer was lost to history... the Blue Danube Waltz.

"Never really gets old this." she thought to herself with a grin, adjusting her sunglasses using her thumb.

 

As Monty stepped out of his Liset and onto Landing Pad 035, he would see that another landing craft was definitely landing next to him, on Landing Pad 034. There were also several other ships landing on the other landing pads - most likely belonging to others who had answered the Reaping Olympians' call for assistance and had come for some reason; whether it be for the money, adventure, or desire to fight the Corpus.

Edited by Agent_Maine
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18 hours ago, Agent_Maine said:

As Takar and the other ship's mysterious occupant walked across the docking bay and towards the elevator, they would suddenly both be met with a large Rhino who was standing guard, holding an Orthos. He was colored black, grey, green and brown, with a Thrak Helmet and a long Broca Syandana. A Glyph was visible on his shoulder, most likely the Glyph used by the Reaping Olympians. The Rhino glanced at both of them, before sighing. He motioned towards the elevator. "Both of you, take the elevator to Level 5. Every person who has been invited will be going there. Once everyone has arrived and preparations are finished, the higher-ups will come to inform you about the mission in question." The Rhino said.

 

The pale figures gaze, impassively scrutinising the blindfolded young woman walking beside her, snapped away as the rhino spoke. Her eye briefly lingered on his weapon before staring unblinkingly into his neuroptics. After a tense silence she inclined her head slightly toward him, and in a voice raspy from disuse spoke:

"I see. Thank you."

Without waiting for a response she stepped past him into the elevator. She turned around and let her gaze return to the other woman, continuing her silent observation as she waited for her to board.

Edited by Askaris
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"Operator. You can't be serious."

"I can and I am."

"But...They are unknown! This could be a trap! There could be hostiles in there!"

"...Unlikely. This is Tenno territory. And this frame, this mask..."

"Is wholely necessary, and you know it, Operator."

Sophocles' voice was slightly chiding. They knew they could afford this much leeway. They were an unusual pair; Most Tennos they  had seen either found their Cephalon annoying or downright wished to get right of them. Not Aria, however. These two had gotten to know each other during a truly rough time, and the Tenno latched at her AI. From there, their bound had grown steadily, from the assigned and the curiosity of a scientific mind finding something new and incredible to something else, odd and different but precious nonetheless. Sophocles was a minder when desire for science cut her from the world, and a voice of wisdom to an often down-to-earth scientist that had her bad moments. Aria was a guardian, mechanic, bringer of news and much more.

The Tenno sighed.

"Right now, i don't feel like hiding myself. This isn't a mission yet. I will take my blade, however. Deal?"

"...Deal."

There was reluctance, and trust in that voice.

As soon as the ship finished docking, the red-haired tenno moved out, her goggles on her eyes and her trusty Dakra by her belt, giving the Reaping Olympians' Dojo a good look. She hadn't been in a clan. Never considered it, really, social life just wasn't her thing. So this was the first time she saw a clan's headquarters from the inside. It seemed...Big. Bigger than she expected, to be honest.
 

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On 2018-10-08 at 4:14 PM, Agent_Maine said:

Sanera glanced over to the Valkyr who was sitting at a nearby table...playing games? She certainly didn't expect to see that. Did Tenno play games? She thought that Tenno, specifically those who were involved in the Old War, would have been all about 'fighting' and less 'gaming'. To be honest, since she's been with the Red Veil since birth, she didn't even know that gaming devices existed outside of the colonies and protected areas on planets such as Earth and Phobos. Maybe the Valkyr went and bought it from a place like that?

"I didn't know Tenno, specifically the Valkyrs which are known for their bloodthirst and anger, play video games." She remarked as she glanced over towards Sab.

 

As Sab watched the intro cinematic she caught the remarks of the nearby spandex enthusiast coupled with the glances Sanera sent her way (hard to avoid a gaze when she doesn't, you know, have actual eyes). Now Sab was not unknown, or even adverse, to glances sent her way (you just become numb to it at some point) and normally would have just chosen to ignore those that wrre so fixated on her, but this time Sab was bored.


And people take desperate measures when they're bored.


“It's a great way to pass the time.” Sab cocked her head in Sanera's direction, now “looking” straight at her. “Or did you expect me to just be sitting here meditating?”

 


As Sab spoke to Sanera the opening cinematic continued to play on her projection, and while nobody but her could hear what was said the following text was displayed at the bottom of the cutscene.

 

 

"Ruin has come to our family
You remember our family fortunes, vast and stable, our stocks gazing proudly from their stoic perch on the exchange. I spent all my years pursuing such high and stable profit margins, fattened by interests and repayments, and yet I began to tire from conventional investments, singular, unsettling tales said that on the edge of Pluto lay a vast station of unprecedented and lucrative opportunities. With shares and credits I bent every effort towards the procurement and return on these sought after plans, exhausting what remained of our liquid assets on swarthy Crewmen and sturdy proxies. At last, beneath the weakened light of the sun's farthest rays we completed that damnable station of unmonitored research. Our every step unsettled the weakened steel, but we were in a realm of death, and infestation. In the end I alone fled laughing and wailing through those blackened arcades of worthless shares, until my loans failed me.

You remember our family fortunes, vast and stable... It's a bankrupted abomination! Please, I beg you, find the Fortuna, reclaim your birthright,  and deliver our family from the ravenous clutching debt...

Of the Darkest Derelict."

Edited by IceDragonofAmber
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The Warframe continued to sit in silence, Phi, his Cephalon, quiet. Even the Taxon had gone quiet. The Warframe meditates, breathing slowly and calmly, before standing slowly and stretching with a heavy sigh. He talks to the muted Cephalon to say one command. "Phi, play 'Mjolnir'." He says, letting the beat of the song flow through as Phi starts to play said song. He smiles to himself and chuckles quietly. "When Octavia is not around, use a Cephalon, someone told me..." He says to himself quietly, before leaving the room and quietly walking to wherever he felt like, which in this case ended up being the dining room, not because he was hungry, but simply wanting company.

Though meditating is a good thing, for him at least, being of the Unairu Focus School, he found it quite... disturbing the silence sometimes. He craved that friendship, but that was gone, now that he was here in the dojo, and not with the others out by Venus. He enters the dining room and sees many a person, races mixed as well, but what caught his eye was two figures, a Valkyr and a Red Veil Operative chatting to each other. He grabs some food and silently sits near them, staying at a distance that he would catch their attention, but not seem too close to seem like he wanted to talk straight away and interrupt them.

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4 hours ago, Askaris said:

 

The pale figures gaze, impassively scrutinising the blindfolded young woman walking beside her, snapped away as the rhino spoke. Her eye briefly lingered on his weapon before staring unblinkingly into his neuroptics. After a tense silence she inclined her head slightly toward him, and in a voice raspy from disuse spoke:

"I see. Thank you."

Without waiting for a response she stepped past him into the elevator. She turned around and let her gaze return to the other woman, continuing her silent observation as she waited for her to board.

"Thank you for holding the door," Takar said, stepping on and pressing the button simply labeled '5'.

As the door closed, Takar turned to 'look' at the girl standing next to her. She seems slightly older than I, at least insomuch as physical appearance. I wonder what she did back in the old days, during the empire.

"I am Takar Lathra. What is your name?" Takar said, as she extended her open hand.

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