Goodnight, Dad - A Grineer Fanfic

[Darayas]

He had been born, in the loosest sense of the word, in Anatolia Hive, a sprawling spawn-complex just south of Everest City on Earth.

 

Like every other Grineer Marine to ever man the Galleons and Formorians that prowled the far reaches of the galaxy, he had no real mother and father. He was a clone – gene-spliced from a host, bio-engineered for a specific function, which more often than not was to fight. The Grineer, after all, only know how to do one thing.

 

The cloning process had always been imperfect. Following a universal standard template, most of the scores of Grineer that were pumped out possessed severe genome deficiency that guaranteed a short life-span. But once in a while, a spawned infant, mewling and squealing from its birth-sac, would miraculously possess a complete genetic structure – a DNA so untarnished, so pure, that further Grineer could be cloned from this one specimen.

 

His DNA had come from one such Grineer. He was the direct spawn of a Primogenitor, which was the Grineer term for such specimens. This made him the closest to a legitimate son that the Primogenitor would ever beget…and the closest to a father that he would ever have.

 

Primogenitors lived a good life for most of their lifespan. To preserve their bodily health, they were treated like the royalty of yore, given lavish accommodation on Earth itself, with their every desire sated. His Primogenitor feasted on meats so succulent that his teeth would have accused him of neglect if they could speak. Chambermaidens attended him at every hour.

 

But once enough clones had been made from a Primogenitor’s template, once their genetic potential had been expended, they were cast into the harsh and disciplined life aboard the Grineer armadas, just like every other Marine. The radical culture shock often harboured a deep resentment within ex-Primogenitors that was directed at their spawn – gene-clones, ripped and spliced from the Primogenitors’ body, that had stolen not only their DNA but also their lives.

 

Not him, though. Not his Primogenitor. He was the First of his Primogenitor’s copies, and that made him arguably the purest of the bunch. His genetic makeup was closest to his prime’s, and so by the time that he had matured after 5 years of adolescence, he had come to resemble his Primogenitor exactly. He was, in Grineer terms, a ‘True Son’.

 

But he was a true son in other senses of the word. His Primogenitor loved him like a father. Having been stationed in the same fleet, his dad would spend the breaks of his gruelling regimen playing Voidball with him, or smuggling Cocoa Bars looted during Corpus raids to his dorm. They would bond by watching the stars sail by in the dark silence of an observation deck – gazing at meteors off the shoulder of Orion, or trade fleets circling the Tannhauser Gate.

 

He missed his father sorely whenever the Primogenitor was away. The Primogenitor was a Grineer Sawman, and that made him part of the vanguard of every fleet – first in, last out. Galleons full of Sawmen and Elite Lancers would depart every 5 months to scout out distant planets or to patrol parts of the Empire.

 

Whenever his father’s absence got too unbearable, he would return quietly to his dorm and spend a long time gazing into the mirror – where the carbon-copied image of his father’s face would stare back. In those moments, he vowed to make his father proud.

 

And he did – by the Sisters, he did. He rose through the ranks to become one of the hallowed Heavies of the Grineer militia. Brave, valiant service against the Corpus conglomerate and the Infested plague saw him climb the hierarchy ladder to earn the blood red armour of the Napalm divisions.

 

His father was there at his promotion ceremony, a humble Sawman somewhere in the crowds. As he caught his eye from the stage, he saw the faintest hints of tears streaming down his furrowed, wrinkled cheeks. It was the only time he’d ever seen his dad cry.

 

It would also be one of the last times that he’d ever see his father again. A year later, radio chatter began bombarding the comm-network about a vanguard fleet that had been lost with all hands in the Mercury system.

 

Commissioned investigations reported grisly findings back to the main armada – Galleons full of steaming corpses, gruesomely dismembered and desecrated. Most were missing various limbs. Others had been bisected, split cleanly from shoulder to waist. Rivers of gore rushed through the drainage systems of each Galleon. Survivors, what few of them there were, were found huddled in corners in a fetal position. Each one stared blankly into space with the crazed eyes of men who had seen what no man ought to see. And each one repeated a single word, over and over – ten-no.

 

Tenno. Remnants of a lost era. Revenants of the Orokin civilization that had very nearly ended humanity by unleashing the Technocyte plague upon a trembling galaxy. Transhuman shadows, pulled from the deepest and darkest of mankind’s nightmares. Once the stuff of legend, now revealed to be real – and awakening across the stars.

 

His father had been one of their many victims. There was never any official record of his death, because most of the corpses aboard the lost Galleons had been desecrated beyond recognition. But he had never returned from that fateful fleet again.

 

Now the armadas were moving. They were forming up, flexing their arms, bunching muscles. They were going to take the fight to the Tenno and force them back into the darkness they’d sprung from. Every week was a cycle of training and indoctrination – forcing the muscles to learn how to fight the Tenno, then forcing the mind to learn how to hate them. The days were total fixations on war and the disciplined application of focused rage.

 

But the nights….the nights were quiet and empty. No more Voidball. No more Cocoa Bars. The silent stars went by, saying nothing.

 

So he’d take off his bulbous, hefty armour, the screaming crimson that was feared by foes of the Grineer across the Seven Systems. He’d leave his incendiary ‘nade launcher in his dorm. He wouldn’t even take his pocket fireblade with him.

 

In the lonely silence of lights-out, he’d walk to the observation deck with only the echo of his footsteps for company. He’d press a hand against the window, and watch meteors off the shoulder of Orion by himself. He would turn his attention to trade fleets circling the Tannhauser gate.

 

He’d take a good hard look at his reflection in the window, and the face of his father would stare straight back at him.

“Goodnight, dad,” he’d whisper, and the tears would stream down furrowed, wrinkled cheeks.   

[SniffYoBunnies]

I...I think I´ll stop farming for the Rage mod now... Q_________________________Q

[H3_Cupcake]

For the first time since I've started playing Warframe, I now empathize with the Grineer. 

 

 

Edited September 28, 2013 by H3_Cupcake

[Nantlais]

Dude... The FEELS...

[Morec0]

I'M RESPONSIBLE FOR CLONE WIDOWS AND CLONE ORPHANS!!!!

[SilverBones]

Oh Godless Depths, this is a good story.

 

ARRRRRGHHHH INSPIRATION TO WRITE....

[zergla]

[arch111]

Take a bow, this is a great novel. To give the Grineer a humanity and a reason to hate the Tenno is inspiring. Further more I love how you make the Orokin the bad guys, and actually paint a picture of Grineer society and size by placing them in cities on Earth and across the Galaxy, not just Sol.

 

In my opinion, this is the kind of Lore and Codex that Warframe needs. I don´t care it´s a action game and not a RPG. Neither is Warhammer 40K, but the Lore is what makes or brakes it.

 

Very well done.

[Rajko]

Wow. Every time I end a Napalm, I'm going to be listening for a sad, gurgling "I'm sorry, Dad...."

[[DE]Skree]

Very moving writing. Excellent.  Imagery is stirring, themes are vivid!

 

The reflection bits are really nice touches!

 

Write more!

[Ronin_Warder]

This was very well done, be proud!!! 

[J-tron]

Feel trip..

You are an excellent writer

[arch111]

Inspired and moved, again.

[Kaian-a-coel]

Dem feels. Dem feels. ;_;

 

In all honesty we'll all forget about this as soon as the next napalm chain-CC us, aren't we?

[FatViking]

Grineer Wahr: If I could, I would show all dem feels the others are showing, but i honestly can't. why? you may find yourself asking. why? Well, the answer to that question is simple and easy to understand. I. LOVE. WAR. There are so many types of war in zis world. You are a grineer soldier who just witnessed the killing of your friend by the Tenno and swear revenge. Race War. An A****** bombard keeps angering you until you can take no more. Class War. And you just enjoy looking at spacetube and watching the idiots argue. Flame War. but what you truly seek, is the sequel you have been waiting for your whole short life span. A war that will be mentioned in the story books. World War 3 (now in space). But seriously though, sorry bout yer dad.

 

Author: Dem feels ;-; so sad, so sad. 

[BlakChimera]

such emotions,this is deep write more 

Edited December 5, 2013 by ik4u

[MotherCorpus]

Some greedy milk to go with that corpus cocoa!

[LoveYourEnemy]

Such Feels

Much Cry

Wow....

 

But seriously, great writing here!

[TheThreadWeaver]

A good, short piece of fiction. I like the use of repeated passages, and your precise wording.

 

The only constructive criticism I can offer is small - perhaps lose the " 'nade " near the end. The abbreviation grabs attention, and feels slightly out of place. Just having the words "incendiary launcher" by themselves might work better.

[N4G4M4K1]

A good, short piece of fiction. I like the use of repeated passages, and your precise wording.

 

The only constructive criticism I can offer is small - perhaps lose the " 'nade " near the end. The abbreviation grabs attention, and feels slightly out of place. Just having the words "incendiary launcher" by themselves might work better.

My thoughts exactly. When I read ''nade', I usually associate it with a comedic pronunciation. It kind of broke the atmosphere for me.

 

Just to throw this in with my initial reaction post as well, to conserve space; Great job, author! Found no grammatical/spelling errors you typically find in fan-fics, no over repetitions of words, fantastic imagery. Aside from that minor spoof, I'd say this is a flawless short story. You have my compliments.

[VoidPunch]

Wow... so much feels. I absolutely love this! I gives the grineer a sense of humanity, this is great lore too. 

[Luminati07]

[ntyd1s]

It is sad but we simply cannot let them go on with their tyranny galactic domination.

 

War.. war never changes. :<

[Jaypalm]

 

Take a well deserved bow, good sir.

[Doforcash]

But the nights….the nights were quiet and empty. No more Voidball. No more Cocoa Bars. The silent stars went by, saying nothing.

 

So he’d take off his bulbous, hefty armour, the screaming crimson that was feared by foes of the Grineer across the Seven Systems. He’d leave his incendiary ‘nade launcher in his dorm. He wouldn’t even take his pocket fireblade with him.

 

In the lonely silence of lights-out, he’d walk to the observation deck with only the echo of his footsteps for company. He’d press a hand against the window, and watch meteors off the shoulder of Orion by himself. He would turn his attention to trade fleets circling the Tannhauser gate.

 

He’d take a good hard look at his reflection in the window, and the face of his father would stare straight back at him.

“Goodnight, dad,” he’d whisper, and the tears would stream down furrowed, wrinkled cheeks.   

my favorite part

 

 

*Edit*

i can't give you an extra up-vote, so here's a SSLOWWW Clap Wave instead

 

but seriously ?

 

 

Tenno. Remnants of a lost era. Revenants of the Orokin civilization that had very nearly ended humanity by unleashing the Technocyte plague upon a trembling galaxy. Transhuman shadows, pulled from the deepest and darkest of mankind’s nightmares. Once the stuff of legend, now revealed to be real – and awakening across the stars.

 

 

are we responsible for this ???

Edited December 5, 2013 by Doforcash