Of Ash And Fire: How We Envision Our Tenno - Archive

[Piranah1]

The thread this is archiving has been going for quite a while, and we recently reached 100 pages. We (or at least I) have decided to create an archive/compilation of the thread as it stands, with (hopefully) regular updates. This will not be complete for some time.

The authors of the work have been noted, and the stories have been ordered chronologically inside story arcs as well as by either author (if a continued story arc/world by one person) or by group/clan/title (if a collaborative story arc/world). If the arc is still in continuation, I will note it (if I know/realise)

 

Keep in mind that this is not the thread itself - if you want to post a story, go to the https://forums.warframe.com/index.php?/topic/74088-of-ash-and-fire-how-we-envision-our-tenno-submit-your-own/'>main thread

 

EDIT: Please do not post. The character limit is much smaller than what I need, and so while I have reserved 20 posts, that may not be enough. If you do post, keep in mind that I may ask you to delete it later.

 

 

SilverBones

The Ash turned the corner, his feet catching the metal floor and as he fell low to slide under the stampeding feet of the Moa he had just passed under. His hand met the metal surface and shifted his position around as sparks were thrown up in a shower that illuminated the dimly lit, sterile passage. In the back of his head, he could feel the confused, digitized soul of the Corpus chief engineer he had just captured. His knowledge of the prototype engine system would be invaluable in figuring out their next move against his people; the Tenno.

 

The Moa behind him turned, spitting fire from the head-mounted laser, but it only found purchase on the outermost part of his shield, causing blue light to flicker up and degrade the shot. Swiveling in place, the Ash planted his feet and side-rolled behind cover, his stolen Dera finding its way off of his back and into his hands. It was odd that a Corpus weapon – of all things – had become the tool of his revenge. Still he felt a connection to the purity of plasma bolts. The lack of shell casings and hard ammunition made it hard to trace back. Being an assassin, it was the perfect weapon when he needed to spray down pursuers and leave no evidence of his passing.

 

Focusing his attention, the Ash rolled to the side, ducking laser fire and coming to a halt on one knee, raising his weapon up and blasting the Moa with a torrent of plasma bolts. As shields melted in moments, the Moa stumbled back, planting its foot down one last time before the top of its body erupted in fire and sparks. The shockwave of power came roaring towards him, but he was ready as the sight of Corpus crewmen came into view. With a shift of power and a warm sense of displacement, the Ash teleported next to one of the confused crewmen in a gout of smoke – just as the shockwave tore up the floor where he was once standing.

 

The Ash wasted no time in continuing with his mission;

 

As the crewman turned, he was greeted by a pair of daggers; Fang as they were collectively called by the Tenno. The blade turned and stabbed him in throat, followed by another stab to the chest which carved out a large chunk of his chest cavity along with it. Before the crewman even realized it was dead, the dagger had twisted, shearing off his arm and followed through as the Ash ducked to avoid the butt of a Dera being swung at his head. The second crewman barely finished his swing when the two blades sunk into the man’s thighs. As the cyberized creature screamed in pain, the Tenno withdrew his blades in a gout of blood then planted a heavy kick into the crewman’s ribcage, shattering every rib and puncturing his lungs. He would have finished the job if the charging sound of a rail gun to his side had not distracted him. He had little time to react, so instead, he lifted his blades to intercept the shot, his ability to process information beyond anything attainable by the other races.

 

The slug of metal crashed into his Fang as he wove it in the way, but it was not enough. The impact was only partially diverted and although it was enough to stop the blow hitting him in the head – an almost certain death – it hit him in the shoulder, destroying his armor and sinking into his synthetic flesh and engineered musculature. The impact sent him staggering back, but thinking quickly, he manifested his energy into a set of Shuriken in his hand and flung them, both blade finding purchase in the Rail Moa’s body, rendering it asunder with clean marks.

 

Holding his shoulder, the Ash examined the wound and shook the limb off. It was barely responsive and with a flex, he found he could barely hold the fang without dropping it. Placing the weapons away, he stood up and looked around the room. The alert was still going, but it seemed that his position was clear for now. Looking about, he turned and took in his surroundings. There were doors down the corridor, but the threat of more coming to kill him grew ever more intense if he waited around to investigate further. Moving to the side, he darted into a door and looked around. Although some locked storage containers greeted him, the maintenance hatches in the ceiling promised some form of escape. Effortlessly leaping on top of the boxes, he pushed upwards, gripping the edge of the hatch and vaulting into the duct with a silent flip.

 

Thankfully, the hole in his shoulder was closing and his shields had long returned to their ready state. It would only take a few minutes for his arm to regain functionality, but the crew had become alerted to his presence and were no doubt lining the corridors leading to his extraction route.

 

“Tenno,” came the voice of The Lotus. “…the rest of your cell is en route. Do you have the captive?”

 

The Ash gave a silent nod.

 

“Good. We shall interrogate him upon your return. Strength to you, Tenno.” She said, her voice calm and simple, a mixture of faith and a lack of compassion giving away her nature in his eyes. The Ash considered his next move and looked down the duct. There were the noises of mechanical pursuers searching for him and if he stayed in one place, they would find him.

 

Moving on, he would continue to elude his prey until the time was right.

In every room, there was death.

 

The Rhino – his massive frame thundering forward with heavy, slow steps – was prepared for another onslaught of his rabid enemy. The Infested were here; thousands of them already fat off of the flesh of Grineer troops and empowered by how long the ship had been left unmolested by intruders. Still, that did not stop the fact that an artifact of great power lay in the heart of the craft.

 

The Tenno had already found the ships reactor core and destroyed it, but the mission was far from over. Beyond the hatch, his heightened senses mixed with old technology pinpointed several organic signatures behind the door. The Rhino cared not for fear or doubt however, and drawing the Manticore axe off of his back, he let it rise and fall in his grip for a moment, the heavy thudding sound echoing around the room. Holding the huge, Grineer weapon off to his side like it weighed nothing; he punched the control panel to open the door and took a step back, waiting for the huge slabs of metal to screech apart. This old Grineer galleon was about as close to death as the creatures who now populated it.

 

Even as the doors were coming apart, the tide of flesh tried to claw its way out. Infected crew pushed and fought to get past each other, tearing their own skin off to get to the Tenno outside. The Rhino shook his head at the pathetic creatures these already putrid beings had become, and lifted his Manticore. With a slamming ring of metal and a flash of energy, the weapon came down, exploding the armored shell of a charger who was almost finished tearing its way through the gap. A second, horizontal swing took the head off of an emerging leaper, who twitchingly fell to the floor.

 

The tide was growing large though, and the Rhino needed to progress. The distance between them made ranged weapons ineffective, and the Manticore still had a taste for blood. As the floodgates screeched open, the chargers and runners came out in a wave of infected flesh. The Rhino was prepared for such an event however, and pulling on his innate powers, he braced himself as a layer of shining, defensive metal crystallized over his body.

 

The fight after that had become simple.

 

Standing straight, the Rhino did not move as a charger jumped at him, only to impact on his skin like he was hitting a metal bulkhead. The charger crumpled to the floor and the Rhino finished the shuddering creature off by slamming the top of his Manticore straight down and crushing the creature’s head-like shell with the impact. Runners flew at him, hitting his body and exploding, but the detonation simply broke on his statuesque torso; particulates of the infected cascading around him without effect. The protection would not last forever, though; the Rhino knew that as he picked his Manticore off of his fallen prey and moved forward, even as the tide still washed over him.

 

Reaching out, he snagged a jumping leaper out of mid-air around the face with his massive, armored hand and threw it to the floor, splattering its head into the metal. As second charger came running up, aiming to swipe out his legs, but the Rhino shifted his footing, brought the Manticore around in a wide arc and with expert timing, brought the burning, jutted edge down on the creature, splitting it in half with the force of the blow. The tide started to thin as more creatures fell to wide, scything swings of the fire-wreathed axe, but the Rhino started to notice how they were starting to back up; still taking shots at him to distract him, but surrounding him, a pack of chargers lay in wait.

 

It was not until a leaper managed to snag his swinging arm when the trap was sprung. As the Manticore was knocked backwards, causing the Rhino to have to correct his balance, the Chargers sprung with impossibly good timing. The Rhino had not seen co-ordination in the Infested to this degree, and falling under the swarm, he felt his Iron Skin dissolving under the tide of blows. He was running out of options when a Charger sunk it’s maw into his arm, holding his Manticore at bay. Teeth started to pierce armor and although his calm remained in place, he could feel his body protesting under the pressure. Letting go of his Manticore, he used the hand to punch the charger at his waist in the side of the head so he could free up a leg. The huge hand drove right past the armored shell and into the creature’s brain, sending it to the floor. A leaper tried to get to him before he could lift his leg, but it was too late.

 

As the foot came down, the Rhino channeled a great portion of his energy through the limb and into the floor. The impact exploded out in a shockwave, shredding flesh, pulverizing organs and even breaking the laws of gravity for a moment as the few creatures which survived the blast were held aloft, helpless. The Rhino reached for his Manticore again, but looked up just as he realized the final part of the Infested Trap. A huge ancient, bigger than one he had ever seen before ran towards him at full speed, slamming into the floating bodies of its kin and reaching back with that huge, distended arm. The Rhino managed to grip his Axe, but he could not lift it in time as the blow struck him, instantly destroying his shields and sucking out what remained of his energy. Landing on his back, the Rhino skidded on the metal, rolling and landing on his front as he came to a halt.

 

It took a moment for the huge Warframe to recover, but when he had, he managed to push himself up on his arms, using the Manticore to help get on to one knee. His body was weakened and he could feel poison sapping at his life. Slowly his energy was regenerating and meeting the gaze of the huge Ancient, he could hear its voice although it was not through the auditory receptors in his helm.

 

Why? The huge ancient asked his mind, You are of our flesh. Why do you defile us?

 

The Rhino looked to see the other infested hovering around the huge creature, as if waiting for a sign. His body was taking damage from the poison released by the huge creature, but his shields were flickering back to life. He just needed a little more power.

 

Shed the lie that is individuality, the creature continued. In us, all are reunited.

 

The Rhino had heard enough. Punching the floor, the impact seemed to make his shields shimmer and flicker, first red, then suddenly blue as the emitters came back online. The large creature seemed to see this form of aggression, even as the Rhino rose to his feet. With a screech, the infested made another run for the weakened Tenno, aiming to devour him as they had so many others, but the Rhino had other plans.

 

With a roar, the Tenno’s power increased tenfold. Energy flooded his synthetic musculature and armor as he lowered his head and focused on the approaching monstrosity. As power flooded his systems, the glow of energy danced over him, as he readied himself for the final charge. With one step, followed by another, the Rhino manifested a field of power in front of him and pushed with his huge legs towards the wave of infested coming to meet his charge. In the wake of the Tenno’s powerful attack, flesh parted like silk and blood flowed like water.

 

Even as the huge infested drew back his arm again, the Rhino was sailing towards him, Manticore back and over his head to land a blow so powerful, it would shake the foundations of the Grineer Galleon they were adrift on.

 

It was moments like these which made the Rhino love to fight.

 

Moments that could be his last.

Everything was too quiet.

 

The corpus chasing the Ash had thinned since he had come out of hiding in the duct. Now that he was fully healed and his shields were replenished, the Ash was cautious about what he was doing. Occasionally he would hear the sounds of thudding; perhaps bodies hitting the floor, but there were no sounds of gunfire or shouts in the partially digitized voices of the Corpus proxies. No, something had gone wrong.

 

The Extraction point was only a few hundred yards through the ship, and although he was running, the Ash was perfectly silent. Perhaps a Grineer boarding party had come across the Corpus vessel and decided to commandeer it? If that were the case he would have heard more chemical-accelerant weapons, but as of yet, he had only heard accelerated plasma. Fear was not something the Ash felt lightly, but the tension in the air was deafening in its silence. Reaching the end of the corridor, he could feel eyes on him, but nothing was there. It wasn’t until he had taken a few running steps down the steel passageway when he came to a halt, looking around with his Dera up and ready.

 

The lights flickered. Perhaps the power core had come under attack, but this was different; the lights were suffering some form of interference. The ship was still moving and had not stopped. No, this was more localized. Moving on a few more steps, the Ash kept his Dera up, scanning the corners of the room, the in-built flashlight casting long shadows. He was about certain that what he had seen was nothing more than an electrical malfunction, when it happened again; only this time, the voice that came with it caused his neurons to fire in alert and his synthetic adrenal glands to skyrocket in production.

 

“Did you really think you could run from your past?”

 

The Ash stopped in his tracks. He recognized the voice and the look, the rumors of a dark avenger ringing in the back of his head; a traitor to the Lotus and the predator of predators. This was the creature known as the Stalker. Its question was as short as the lights flickering. The Ash had heard rumor of its power and speed, and picking up the pace, the Tenno made a run for the doors. As it did so, the sight of corpus littering the floor around him let him come to the realization of what had happened. Shafts from some dark arrow lay buried in heinous slashing marks, where as other bodies lay in clean, parted segments. Still he pressed on, holstering his weapons and freeing his hands.

 

Once again, the lights flickered, harder this time.

 

“You cannot escape your fate.”

 

The creature said, its haunting, terrible whisper ringing through the corridor like poison and ice. The Ash could see the doors to the extraction hangar ahead though, and ducking his head down, he moved into a sprint, vaulting over the bodies of the fallen, but even as he did so, black smoke, thick and noxious, spiraled out of the floor, forming the figure of someone kneeling and blocking his path.

 

“I am your Reckoning!”

 

The figure rose form its kneeling position in a heartbeat, drawing what appeared to be a deathly dark bow. The Ash barely had time to duck out of the way, falling into a roll and darting underneath the shot, but only just recovered in time to slide out of the way of another arrow. Drawing his Lato, he prepared to snap off a few shots, more to clear the creature out of his way and allowing him to escape, but before he could pull the trigger, a long, pointed throwing-blade smashed the pistol out of his hand and pinning the destroyed weapon to the wall.

 

The Stalker was relentless.

 

The Tenno barely had time to think. A bow shot almost destroyed his shields completely, and turning, he had to retreat away from the door. Thinking he could possibly outrun the creature, he was taken aback as the dark, hunter of Tenno teleported to his side, a huge scythe-like weapon in his hands and took a swipe at him. The Ash did not have time to dodge and draw its weapons, so taking the hit, he felt a long, hot line drown across his waist, and sliding back, he readied the pair of fangs for a close combat battle.

 

The Stalker did not disappoint.

 

Two horizontal swings came in with the kind of strength and speed the Ash would have expected from a Master Tenno. Ducking back and bringing his fangs down in a cross, he managed to avoid the blade strikes enough to close the distance, locking up the curved blade for just a moment. Twisting, he aiming to backhand stab the dark aggressor with a turn, but the blade cut into its shields, not finding flesh. The Tenno did not waste time by ducking under another blow and repeatedly stabbing the creature’s shields, each slash causing red streams of energy to rise.

 

In a flash, the Stalker disappeared in a tearing, powerful sound, just as a fang was about to find its way past his shields. Were it not for his familiarity with teleportation, the Ash would have probably would have been cut in half as the Stalker rocketed towards him from behind, surrounded in a wave of power – something strikingly familiar to the power invoked by his Excalibur brethren. Using all his power to push upwards, time seemed to slow for the Ash as he jumped, turning backwards and back-flipping over the murderous Stalker. Mid-flip, his hands deftly removed the Dera from his back, and even as time crawled in his eyes, he could see the Stalker turning up to look at him. Squeezing the trigger, the Dera unleashed pulse after pulse of superheated, plasma-coated hell, ripping away shields and piercing dark flesh.

 

The Ash had not even landed when his final gift came to light.

 

Erupting in a cloud of smoke, the Ash teleported behind the stalker, swinging with his blades, but the Stalker was also familiar with such tactics. As the pair of them flickered, disappearing and reappearing after one another, the Ash felt his power levels dropping. Sparks flashed and flew between thick clouds of smoke, blades flashing and occasionally drawing blood in the brief moments the pair of them danced in the corridor.

 

The next time the stalker reappeared, the Ash did not. He was on his knees in the previous area of teleportation, holding his side and fighting the weight of his injury. Seeing the Tenno down, the Stalker drew his Scythe again and moved towards the fallen Tenno with a dark intent obvious. Sitting back on his feet, his hands resting on his knees, the Ash looked up at his aggressor, defiant to the last moment. The Stalker did not seem to revel in the idea, rather took the job with professional seriousness.

 

“And so, it ends.”

 

The creature spoke, lifting the curved blade to the side and swung it around, aiming to take the Ash’s head off cleanly. It was just as the blade drew close to the neck, the final, expert timing of the maneuver when the Stalkers swing had him the most off-balance when the Ash disappeared in a plume of smoke.

 

“What?!”

 

The stalker tried to recover, but a blade, long and serrated pierced him through the back, erupting out of the front of the fallen Tenno and holding him there. The Ash said nothing, but rather pushed harder, forcing the blade out further as blood sprayed the metal corridor. Drawing his arm back, the Ash removed the arm-blade that had extended out of his gauntlet and flicked the black blood off of it. Letting it retract, he looked down at the Stalker as it fell to its knees, slumping. Immediately the figure began to shroud itself with the same smoke it used to enter, and stepping back, the Ash cradled his wounded side, preparing for something else.

 

“What… have you done?”

 

As the Stalker faded, the Ash leaned against the wall, collecting himself as he watched the creature disappear like a phantom. Injured, drained and ready to leave, he paused only to consider what had happened before turning to slowly hobble on to extraction. As he was about to go, he noticed that something on the floor was still left over. Reaching down, he picked up a leg holster filled with those pointed, razor-sharp blades the creature had been using and turned his head to where the Stalker had been.

 

These modified Tenno weapons would need to be reported to The Lotus, as well as his encounter. Perhaps if they were lucky, they could engineer the weapons for their own use. However he was sure that was not the last time they had seen the elusive creature known as the Stalker.

 

No. Revenge did not die that quickly.

Aigloblam

Excalibur slowed to a halt at the end of the hallway. Noxious goo dripped from his blades, the stuff served the infested as blood. It stank mightily, but it was part of the job. He was 20 minutes into a 2 hour sweep and clear mission on this hellhole of an asteroid. He would have rather seen to the capture mission available earlier, but Ash had seniority.

 

Excalibur shook his head, bringing him back to the moment just in time to dodge a hulking green monstrosity as it charged down the corridor. He felt the weakness seep into his bones, even being within feet of these things could leave any organic creature in a puddle of their own entrails. He dove to the side, flashing his hand down to his belt pouch and flinging a Kunai into the back of the creatures knee. It stumbled forward, its badly mangled leg bringing it to a halt. As it turned, the choking green mist thickened. A loud roar filled the air as it's disgusting maw opened, a plume of mist erupted from deep inside the beast. Excalibur leaped to his feet with agility no mere human could ever have. He backpedaled, launching six more Kunai in rapid succession, each finding its way into stinking green flesh. The beast roared once more, before falling over onto its face and twitching its last strength away.

 

Excalibur knew he had to move on, the nanocytes from the station on this asteroid would soon dissolve the body into nothing but blue smoke. He continued out the nearest door where his scanners had detected more infested. After creeping through the next room he found a air duct, removed the fan that blocked its entrance, and climbed inside. No more than 40 feet down this pipe, he heard the shuffling of feet below him, through vent hole in the ceiling of one of the lower rooms. He slowly crouched and peeked in.

 

Four red skinned infested were milling about in the room, over a mangled body on the floor. The body had been picked clean of flesh and had barely any bones left. Mostly just a large blood smear with a few chunks in it, but it felt wrong, all wrong. The infested were a lot of things, but Cannibals werent on that list.

 

Ever so slowly he reached over his left shoulder, past the string on his bow, and pulled out his only companion for this mission; a Shade, Sentinel Unit 119. He twisted the halves of the metal gizmo, and a faint whirring noise started, and the Shade floated up in the air. It unfolded itself to full size and began its startup sequence. Nine seconds later it was fully operational, its cloaking field hiding Excalibur and the shade itself from visual contact.

 

Ever so slowly the Tenno let himself down into the chamber, his feet made not a sound on the floor plates. Once on the ground, he noticed the Runner creatures were not alone, 2 Chargers also occupied this room. Deciding that the Runners were the biggest threat, he crept up behind one and with lightning speed he lept onto its shoulders, simultaneously pulling his small Hand Axes from their clips on his back. He clamped down onto the creatures neck with his knees, and buried the blade of one axe in its throat, the other directly into the creatures face. It wasn't enough to kill it, he knew that, but it would keep it quiet enough to not alert the others while he finished it off. With a twist of his body Excalibur fell back, using his powerfully enhanced legs and Zoren blades as leverage. The Runner's head ripped off its body, where it was cradled all the way to the ground by powerful Tenno hands. This creature dealt with, Excalibur repeated this process on two more, totally silently.

 

On the last Runner, it turned its head at just the wrong moment, causing one blade of the Zoren to go into the side of its face, the other striking the collar bone. The Runner, free to scream in pain, quickly did so. Excalibur knew stealth wouldnt work any longer, he had killed almost 50 infested though, hopefully there werent too many more.

 

 

In the instant the creature bellowed in pain and was silenced by the blades, the Chargers wheeled around and as their name implied, charged directly for the offending Tenno. As the dead Runner fell, its last act was to latch onto Excalibur's leg with a death grip. Now with 400 pounds of dead infested flesh holding him back, the battled hardened Tenno unleashed a flurry of strikes, lopping off limbs and nodules of flesh from the chargers. It almost wasn't enough. The creatures still pushed on, tackling him with all the fury left in their mutilated bodies. When they finally lay dead on the floor, Excalibur's shields were depleted and he had long bloody scratch marks all along his left side. He had been in much worse scrapes than this, so he barely acknowledged the injuries.

 

After freeing himself from the grip of the downed Runner, Excalibur checked his scanners. Relief washed over him, The scan showed clean, not another life form on this rock. He started making his way to the extraction point, about a quarter mile to the south. He breathed easier now, in less than an hour he would be back inside the Dojo, resting and training for his next assignment.

 

Less than 400 meters from his waiting extraction ship, the whole asteroid shook, the sound of an explosion was deafening inside the structure. Quickly checking his sensors, Excalibur saw readings all over the area, at least 50. From his communicator, he heard the voice of the Lotus. Normally this voice calmed the most hysterical Tenno in any situation. When Excalibur heard the Lotus this time, however, it did nothing but fill him with overpowering dread.

 

In a uncharacteristically shaky tone, the voice of the lotus spoke.

“I'm picking up hundreds of signals all around you Tenno. I've never seen this many before. Your pod has been destroyed, and ...There are no other operatives within range of you.”

 

Excalibur took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had never heard the Lotus sound like this before, Never in all his years working with his Tenno brethren. He had never known the Lotus to be afraid before.

 

“What is this? This is not Normal...Something is very wrong here”

 

A few seconds of radio silence, then the Lotus came back, her voice still shaky.

“Its The Grineer”.

 

Excalibur heard this very well, but he wouldn't have cared if ten thousand Grineer were decending upon him at that moment, Something else has just happened.

 

The Lights were flickering.

 

Necromonger2100

Saryn

 

 Saryn had experienced this a thousand times before. Sneaking through the vents to reach some Grineer scum, who controlled a pocket of the system.

The air smelled of grineer cargo...most likely protein bricks for the war effort. She effortlessly slid down from the vent. Her contoured suit silently moved down the halls of the ship. The grineer had a negligible contingent guarding the corridors, so she easily slid by. She came to the control center of the ship as Lotus came up on her communicator.

 

"Disable the ships navigation core so your pod may dock for extraction."

 

 Saryn ducked under a pipe and strung up her dread bow. Five grineer manned the bridge of the Frigate, and she could easily kill them without being detected. She held her breath and released sending the arrow that went directly into the back of a grineer lancer's head. She quickly notched another arrow and dispatched another of the crew. As she began to emerge to take a shot at the others, a cry tore through the air!

 

"DEATH TO THE LOTUS!" Screamed a scorpion directly behind her!

 

 An over sized hook tore through her shield and into her back and began to real her in. Saryn quickly twisted free of the hook, rolled, and grabbed her mire from it's sheath. She spun and drove the infested sword deep into the scorpions chest. She spun just as a one of the grineer accessed a terminal and set of the alarm. She realized she need to get to that grineer captain fast. She whipped out her twin vipers and exterminated the rest of the bridge crew in short order. She sprinted up to the control panel and reprogrammed the coordinates Lotus had sent. Her way-point indicated that the captain was only about 100 meters away in the engine room of the ship. She quickly began moving through the tunnels of the ship. Despite the alert only a single squad attempted to stop her at the door.

 

 She enter into a dark medium sized room with a large power core in the center. But something was horribly wrong. The core was destroyed and leaking coolant from a hole that only could have been made by a rocket and there was something laying on the floor. It was the assassination target.

He was in a puddle of his own blood with a pitch black skana standing upright in his chest. But he was alive!

 

The old Grineer turned his head towards Saryn and mouthed, "run" and then ceased breathing.

 

Lotus began to hale Saryn on a emergency only channel.

 

"Saryn you must run, hurry, HES HERE!"

 

Saryn was now in a near panic state, she had no idea what was going on, and Lotus NEVER spoke like that to anyone! Just as she turned to run a horrible crunch pierced the air. She looked down and saw the dreaded hate scythe embedded in her shoulder. The pain was excruciating! 

 

"You did not believe that you could get away with your murders did you Saryn?" Said the Stalker smugly.

 

 He slowly raised her off the ground.

 

"Your atrocities have costed me a great deal did you know that? How hard it is to allow such filth to mar the galaxy? You call yourselves Tenno yet you are so weak. You cannot even stop me. Ha, but I linger for to long soon enough the grineer will wonder why a frigate of commandos isn't responding. However I must dispose of you some where..." He slowly walked towards the leaking core. "Do you know what it feels like to swim in 6,000 degree coolant with a punctured suit Saryn? You will soon find out."

 

Saryn knew she only had seconds before she plumeted to her doom. She spoted a damaged window on the far side of the room, She only need a single shot to puncture it and send the stalker flying through the window. Although it would decompress the ship it was better than perishing on board a grineer ship. She quickly took out her viper and shot a quick burst before the stalker could react. The window burst sending the her and the stalker spiraling toward the vacuum. she yanked the scythe free of the stalker and used it to hook the rim of the window. She yanked herself inside and quickly sealed the window and re-compressed the room She limped over to the dead grineer. She bent over and took his identification tags. Lotus again began haling her on the emergency channel.

 

"Are you alright?! I thought I'd lost you! The stalker was jamming all transmissions in the area! I've sent some other Tenno to help you clean up the ship, they should be there soon."

 

 Saryn simply nodded. and walked over to a viewing port. To her dismay she saw a glinting black vessel moving away. An unidentified transmission came through on her communicator.

 

"This isn't over yet Saryn." said the voice of the Stalker

 

 Saryn just shook her head and sat down and counted down the minutes to extraction.

 

Morec0 (only the link was in the thread, but certainly worth putting in here)

“You guys see anything suspicious?”

 

“Negative, nothing here to report.”

 

“Affirmative.”

 

Heavy footsteps, clanking hard against the metal plating of the ship, signaled the three were stepping away, heading elsewhere to continue their constant patrol of the Galleon.  The trio of guards, big and bulky and heavily armored, shifted their weapons in their hands, not holding them at the ready but keeping them a mere second away from an easy firing position.  Trained soldiers.  Bred and birthed to kill.  Three of many of the best.

 

In the shadows they had been nearly facing seconds earlier, a humanoid shape dashed forward.  For a brief moment it was in the light of the ship, but the dark of its colors made it appear that, for the short time it was out of the darkness, it had never left.  The shape vanished, still and silent, into another patch of darkness.

 

“Hrm?”

 

“What?”

 

“Thought I heard something over there.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll check.  If I find anyone I’ll bring you back his head.”  One of the three teal-armored soldiers walked away from the group, towards the shadows on the side of the room.  A flashlight lit up the darkness, scanning the area for signs of what his companion may have heard.

 

There was nothing to see, just the plating of the ship and the dust it collected.

 

Before the soldier even began to turn back to his companions, he heard two muffled grunts of pain from behind him.  Spinning around as fast as he bulk would let him, he saw only a dissipating cloud of bluish-white dust.  Mere specks of dirt in the air.  His comrades were nowhere to be seen, but he did not have to see to know what was happening.

 

The eyes of this bloodthirsty fighter, this soldier who had only known war since the day he was birthed, filled with fear.  He turned once again and ran towards the nearest consol, letting his weapon and the one hand that still held it drop to his side.  He reached the small command box just a few paces from the door and quickly plugged in the access code; but before he could press the red button that read “alert,” an arrow pierced through his free hand and impaled it against the wall.

 

The soldier dropped his weapon and reached towards the consol with his other hand, but was too slow.  A smaller but stronger hand grabbed his, pointed fingers wrapping around the soldier’s metal wrist, and pulled him back.  The teal-armored soldier could only look at the intruder in terror before he was thrown to the ground and ended by the three blades of a spinning weapon.  His remains vanished into the still air in seconds.

 

As his body vanished into dust like that of his companion, his murderer stepped up to the activated consol and pressed a series of keys.  The red “alert” button disappeared and was replaced by a layout of the entire galleon, names of each section flickering on the screen as the intruder scrolled through it, staring at the screen with a faceless face.  Finally he found what he was looking for, the quickest route to the portion of the ship labeled “Armory.”

 

With another few taps the consol powered down, and with a few steps the red and black character vanished into the shadows.  No trace was left of his presence, save an absence of life.

 

 

A portion of the patrol squad of the third level’s port quarter had failed to report for roll-call.  This would have been unusual under typical circumstances, but because of the events of the past months it had become all but terrifying.  All but, but only slightly.

 

Captain Krieg Ehl Mrul of the Grineer Galleon Talkah was not above fear, but his training and loyalty to the Grineer outweighed any cowardice in his heart.  He knew what was crawling somewhere in the shadows of his ship, he knew that even full battalions of Grineer could fall to just one, but he also knew he refused to roll over and die.  If his epitaph would be written today, then it would not be his corpse backed into some corner; it would be his dismembered remains torn to bloody shreds and smeared across the hull of his ship – for that was the only way he would allow himself to die.

 

No Tenno with their ridiculous Warframes would make a mockery of Captain Krieg Ehl Murl.

 

He all but slammed his hand onto the communications panel.  "This is Captain Krieg Ehl Murc,” he yelled through all communication channels on his ship, “there is a Tenno hiding in the shadows, whoever brings me his lifeless husk will be rewarded with promotion!  Kill any and all intruders!”

 

With that the Captain ended his orders, turning off the channel and palming his Kraken in anticipation.  This was an assassination, he knew it.  The Tenno had gone after his fellow Captain Vor, they had gone after his superiors General Ruk and Lieutenant Kril, and now they were here for him.  He would not go down without a fight, without a glorious dance of blood and pain.

 

The consol lit up; an incoming communication from Sector Eight, at the starboard bow of the ship.  He answered the call; “speak.”

 

“Captain, the Tenno is here!” the voice the spoke was not frantic, but the panic the speaker felt was noticeable.  “We sealed him in one of the halls with some of our finest men, but the battle has fallen silent and we have heard no call for the doors to open!  We need reinforcements im-.”  The communication was ended, cut short not by the death of the speaker but by interference from a third party.

 

Growling in fury, Captain Murc sent out a call to the barracks.  “I need a squad of Heavy Gunners to Sector Eight immediately!”  All he received in reply, however, was static.  Barking a swear and slamming his fist into the consol so hard it dented the metal and cracked the glass, he turned and stormed away from the bridge.  “With me,” he ordered a group of nine Troopers, the yellow-armored Grineer falling into formation behind their captain.

 

The group of Grineer stormed through the bulging corridors of the Galleon, Captain Murc, his twisted cloned face twisted even further by sheer rage, at the lead.  Why Sector Eight?  There was no way to the bridge once you entered there, you had to turn around and return through Sector Seven and then to Sector Five from there.  Sector Eight was a dead end, leading to…

 

Captain Murc barked another swear.  The Armory!  The ship’s armory!  That was what the Tenno was here for!  This was no assassination mission, this was a raid!  A raid for what he could not say, they had nothing of interest aboard, but that didn’t matter.  He knew where the Tenno was going, and better yet: he knew he would have no way out.  He was walking into his own mausoleum; they would corner him there and put him down like a rabid mongrel.

 

The Grineer stormed into Sector 8 and went deeper and deeper in until they reached the second-to-final stretch to the armory.  Gathered on their side of the door, the alert lights glowing orange to signify a lockdown, was a squad of Lancers, a few of which were tinkering with the wiring of the nearest consol.  “Get the doors back on!” Captain Murc demanded as he and his Troopers approached.

 

“We’re can’t, sir,” one of the Lancers said.  “He’s sealed the door from the inside and cut it off from the rest of the system.  We’ll need to link it back to the main system.”

 

That would take too long.  “Force it open,” the Grineer Captain ordered.  The Lancer just stared at the captain with dumbfounded shock.  Murc snarled in rage and grabbed the Lancer by the collar of his armor with one motion and slammed him against the hull of the ship as hard as he could with another.  “Force it open!”

 

He released the soldier and the teal-armored Grineer, afraid for his life, hurried back to the door.  He and the other Lancers all took a grip on the heavy steel doors barring the Captain’s path and with all the physical and mechanical strength they could muster began to try and pull the doors apart.

 

At first nothing happened, but when Captain Murc barked at them to work harder they doubled their efforts and slowly forced the door open wide enough for the Captain and then his nine Troopers to move through.  When the last of them was safely on the other side they let their grip slip and the door slammed shut behind them.  Murc and the other Grineer proceeded down the hallway, to yet another door sealed by lockdown.

 

Murc did not even need to give an order this time, his Troopers stepped up and began to pry the door open.  It took time, but eventually they were able to make a hole wide enough for their Captain to crawl through, putting him in the armory proper.

 

And there, on the far side of the room, tinkering with the wiring of a Grineer Roller, was the Tenno, red smoke wisping out of his Warframe’s left arm.  As Murc reached for his Kraken and another Tropper began to crawl through the doorway – much slower, as was necessary because of the strain it put on the other eight – the Tenno looked up from his work.  Blinking red-orange energy came from his palm and consumed the Roller, leaving nothing of the weapon behind.

 

With swift motion, the Tenno grabbed handfuls of weapons from dispensers attached to the legs of his suit and threw them towards Murc.  However, the tiny metal blades passed by the Captain harmlessly, and instead flew into the faces of the Troopers holding the door open.  The pain – and even death, for one – of the weapons forced two them back in recoil, and without their aid the others could not hold the door open.  They were forced to let go of it as it slammed shut, cutting – if blunt force could cut – the Trooper who had been crossing through in half at the waist.

 

Murc grabbed hold of his Kraken, but the Tenno was faster than he.  He grabbed the spinning glaive that had been attached to his inner forearm and, without warning and without so much as a run or jump towards him, was within melee range of the Captain.  The Tenno’s weapon was jabbed into the left side of the Grineer Captain’s chest.  There it spun, trying to cut even deeper than it had already managed to.  Sparks and blood sprayed from the growing wound.  Screaming in rage and pain, Murc brought up his Kraken and fired a pair of shots into the Warframe at point blank range.

 

There were two bright flashes of blue light and the Tenno was sent flying back, where he landed nimbly on his feet, but there were no signs that he had even been touched by the gun’s shots.  Captain Murc hastily began lining up his next shot, planning so that the recoil would land the second bullet right into the Tenno’s forehead, but, again, the Tenno was faster than he.  Two shuriken landed into either of the Captain’s shoulders.  Murc was nearly forced to drop his weapon, but he held onto the gun and fired the shots he had been planning.

 

Again: a bright flash of blue light for both shots when they impacted the Warframe, but no noticeable damage to the suit.  The next five shots came off quick, without as much forward thought, and the Tenno dodged out of the way for each of them.  The Captain quickly began to switch out clips, needing to get more shots fired, and it was with this time that the Tenno grabbed the bow slung across his back and readied and arrow.

 

Instinctively, Murc brought his arm up to block the arrow, and instead of piercing his skull it cut through his armor and into the meat of his arm.  Another met its mark there, and a third after that one.  Taking cover behind some crates, Murc lowered his now badly-wounded arm and finished reloading his Kraken.  Now armed again, he was ready to rejoin the battle.

 

Then he heard the beeping.

 

He looked down at his arm.  The arrows that had pierced it and were still in it were primed with explosives.

 

And he was hiding behind a crate of ammunition.

 

The explosion and resulting chain reaction blasted Murc into the hull of the ship, nearly breaking through it and leaving the largest dent he had ever seen be put into Alloy Plate, and then fell back to the floor.  He, bleeding, burned, half-dead, looked up, seeing the Tenno reaching for another arrow.

 

Then there was a familiar sound; a drawn out tone that Murc knew meant the doors had been reactivated.  The Lancers at the first door and managed to reconnect them to the system.  The rest of his assault team and the Lancers before them would be here soon, and they would make the Tenno pay.

 

But the Tenno was aware of this as well, and he placed the arrow back into his quiver and slammed his left fist into the floor.  Smoke poured from his Warframe to envelop the room and he vanished into it.  Like a ghost into the fog.  As the Troopers opened the door to aid their commanding officer the smoke poured out into the hallway and into the hallway past the Lancers after that.

 

No one saw him.  No one was able to fire at shot to try and slow him.

 

He was gone.

 

 

A lone Tenno transport coursed through space at incredible speed, and docked against a Corpus ship that might as well have been an abandoned derelict for all the damage it seemed to have suffered.  But while the outside portions were beyond repair, much of the deepest interior –a small backup reactor, the prison level, and a few other rooms – was very much intact.

 

The Tenno in the Ash Warframe that exited his transport into the familiar air of his own personal base knew that.  That was why he had set up here.

 

He strode through the corridors, once sterile and pristine now blemished with the blood of those who had been unable to escape their ship’s fate – whatever that fate had been, not even the Tenno knew what had transpired to leave this ship as it was – down into the depths of the ship until he reached the largest room – save the Prison Deck – which was still habitable.  He entered the room as the doors opened for his presence.

 

Inside were his trophies.  Weapons of all kinds, of all make.  Tenno, Grineer, Corpus, even parts of Infested bodies.  Across the walls they were lined, all manner of weaponry, sitting there, all placed on display for him and him alone.  But weapons were not the room had to show; screen hanging from the roof gave a live feed of the Prison Deck, of the cells and their occupants.

 

There were twenty-four cells, and three of them were filled.  One housed a Corpus Crewman, another housed a Grineer male, and the final one was home to an Infested Ancient.  While Corpus and Grineer pounded against their confinement in the vain hope of freeing themselves, the Infested one stood silent and still.  Dormant, or simply waiting, it was impossible to tell, but it was just as good that it was in whatever state it was in.

 

And lining the wall the door was on were the pride and joy of his collection:

 

Warframes.  His own Warframes to use or neglect as he wished.  Saryn, Loki, Nyx; these were what were present, and there were already stands set out for more.  He was planning on increasing his stock, planning on expanding his collection.

 

The Tenno in the Ash armor walked over to a stand which displayed a Nervos and Latcher, and after the red-orange light reconstituted the Roller, he placed it next to them.  There.  The set was complete; for now, at least.  There would be more in time, and there were still other pieces of other sets to collect.  But he had time, he had patience.

 

He walked back to face his collection and Warframes and knelt down onto both knees in silent meditation.  His stare – as unsure as that was without a view of his face – was at the Warframes.  He looked at them as if deciding which he would take next, which would be the best choice for him to use to add another piece to his collection.

 

But there was a larger and more unnerving question: what piece, creature, weapon, or Warframe, would that be?

 

TheAmmoStore

Frost thundered down the hallway, heavy boots clanking and stomping on the metal work of the Corpus outpost. Mechanical proxies and Ospreys followed him, plasma blasts of green and blue whistling and hissing in the air as they burned a path through the chilled air towards him. His shields flashed and flickered as the energy tried to eat it's way into his body, and burn through him. His objective? 'Exterminate all life,' Lotus told him. 'Leave nothing alive.' He shook his head as he ran on, passing by more Corpus technicians and crew members. They too joined in the horde behind him, adding their shots to the storm following him. He barely managed to stay out of the shots long enough to gain a sliver of more shield power, only to repeat the process.

 

His armor was colored black with white and blue trim, the mist emitted from his shoulders contrasting nicely against his deep-space black armor. On his back was a reverse engineered Grakata, colored more traditional snow and ice colors, while a a pair of Fang daggers, more closely colored to his armor sat sheathed in parallel across his back. On his thighs were a set of Furis, aptly named Afuris in honor of all dual Tenno weapons. They gleamed in the bright daylight, sparkling like snowflakes as Frost ran on.

 

He ran past the final group of Crewmen, turning around quickly at the sounds of gunfire. Friendly plasma burned away one of them, while the second caught the tip of a Fang dagger, the sharp point easily penetrating his protective helmet and weak throat, blood and computer circuits mixing together as Frost slowed to a stop and gathered his energy into his hands, casting it forward to flash freeze all the moisture about him in a large Snow Globe. The wind inside the Globe was so thick and intense that he was obscured, hidden as nothing more than an outline. The Crewmen and Technicians that ran up stopped and opened fire at the globe while the Moa platforms, both standard, Shockwave, and Railgun ran at him, entering the field of effect without pause of thought or self preservation.

 

He grinned wickedly behind his helmet. His Fangs blurred and came out, whipping and slicing into the synthetic lifeforms with ferocity, tearing apart fake, mechanical muscles and circuit board brains. His arms were a blur as he tore and stabbed into the mechanical mass, bits and pieces, still desperately trying to work wiggled and flexed as they flew through the air to land at the feet of the Crewmen. A mass of parts, a flood of metal poured out of the Globe, covering the floor in sparking broken bits that soon burned away as failsafes kicked in. The crewmen horde continued to fire, only a few stopping to watch as the Moas ran in only to die inside. Soon, however, they all stopped, just as the globe faded away, revealing Frost's synthetic blood covered blades in each hand. A low chuckle came from the solitary, oil soaked figure, and the Prod Crewmen ran forward, yelling obscenities in their language as Frost braced for more combat.

 

They lasted as long as the Moas.

 

Frost streaked and spun around and between the Prods of the Crewmen, blocking some and outright avoids others. Each slash found a mark, be it an arm, a head, the chest, or a leg. A stab, a slice, a pincer, an impalement, each maneuver drew blood and splattered it along the pieces and the walls and the Tenno figure in the midst of the carnage. All crewmembers not in the fray just stared and watched in horror, as Osprey drones waited nearby, projecting energy shields onto nearby friendlies and dropping mines behind the wall of plasma guns.

 

The transition was so smooth, no one noticed until it was too late.

 

Frost holstered his Fangs, the blood and suit coolants mixing and sliding off cleanly to streak the ground. In his return, he drew his Afuris and pointed it at the wall of hapless crewmembers and technicians. A pause, and as soon as the last body of the Prod Crewmember dropped, his opened up, the modified weapons spewing 182 bullets out of a 91 magazine capacity, firing far faster than normal. Armor piercing and freezing bullets ripped into the wall, splashing against the shields of all those present  and soon ripping through them. Blood splatters and holes formed in the jumpsuits of those unfortunate to not have the proper shielding. Technicians quickly started deploying more drones, their arms up in the air with the yet to be activated drone in their hands as their shielding failed and the storm of metal tore them apart. A few turned and tried to run, but were soon shattered and broken upon the crucible of combat. Ospreys were bent and broken, sparking and exploding in the withering fire, the hot shrapnel raining down on the protective headgear of the crewmen that survived.

 

One crewman, ducked down behind the boxes and cursing a storm as he heard death and destruction all around him, peeked his head up as the bullets stopped, only to come face to face with the barrel of the ice colored Grakata Frost had been wielding. A quick bark of fire, and the crewman dropped, nothing but hole for his face and neck. Frost spun, and send a wave of icy spikes rippling forward to impale and dismember the other crewmen, while his Grakata spun and hosed the survivors in a spree of murder. As the magazine ran dry, Frost stopped, and heard nothing but the drip of blood and the sparking of barely functioning machines. Lotus contacted him, letting him know the outpost was clean.

 

He nodded silently and holstered his weapons, walking off past the field of mines, each one harmless and impotent to his power. Behind him, back at the massacre he had devised, bodies were burning and vanishing into smoke, leaving nothing but cooling blood and broken metal. He smiled largely under his helmet, and thought about his next mission. An icicle, weakened from the sounds of combat and death snapped and broke from above him and fell from the force of gravity. A quick movement, unavoidable collision, and Frost caught it, his arm outstretched and flexing slightly. He knelt down, slowly and carefully, until the icicle rested against the cool metal.

 

He stood up again, and continued his walk, slow and meticulous, like a bloody, battle-tested glacier, ready to fight and if need be die for the Lotus.

I stopped, crouching down with my Kraken in hand, and touched the side of my helmet to the ground, the large hammerhead like protrusions making it easy. I didn't need to do it, but it was good for the show. I don't know who's watching, but I know they are. Always, watching and waiting as I perform my show to entertain them. I looked over, and saw a Runner, an Infested suicide bomber, walking around aimlessly, waiting patiently for a threat or for the Hivemind to issue orders. A quick thought, an idle jump into the air and the rush of space bending around me dropped me to my knees at the position the Runner was just location. Now, for every action there is a reaction, so the Runner, very confused and disoriented now occupied my position. I quickly drew my bow and fired, impaling the creature to the wall with an electrified arrow so as to not alert the rest of the ship just yet.

 

The show must not be interrupted.

 

I continued on, moving along with my bow reholstered, my Kogake burning brightly as I crouched along, moving almost on my hands and feet. I peeked around a corner, and delivered an uppercut to a charger, the burning fist scorching and sizzling the flesh as the head snapped back and the body went limp, shortly burning away as the nanomachines scorched themselves. I continued on, watching for movement, and staying cautious, putting a story into my movements for all those watching me.

 

I broke through a rusted fan, the great weight of the machine trying in vain to move and circulate the air. It had been jammed through unknown means, and I did not care. It was a simple obstruction, a prop upon which the backdrop was made. It held a story, it's own tale of triumph and sorrow which was long forgotten as the audience moved on to better, more interesting tales. now though, it's time was up, it's minutes of fame washed away and it broke into pieces with sadness. I moved quickly down the ventilation shaft, hoping back and forth as to avoid stepping in the fine layer of liquid than ran down these tubes.

 

Another broken fan, another long forgotten and wasted away story, and I came upon the area where I would make my vast performance, my encore and repeat performance. It was a large open room, a hanger bay for Grineer transport ships, those bringing in or taking away ore mined from this asteroid. An ocean of Infested creatures milled about, waiting for something to happen or a threat to be found. As I watched from my perch up on a catwalk, I saw several Ancients among the sea, all of them Healers, maintaining the health of the creatures around them with sickly green pulses of energy. I shuddered as they washed over me, feeling warm and cold and overall...slimey to their touch. My objective was across the room, a pair of mining machines.

 

My weapons were ill-suited for taking them out quickly enough for the horde below me to not reach me, so I would have to deal with them. I glanced at the vast hanger door, open to the emptiness of space, but protected by an invisible layer of energy keeping us all inside safely. I made a series of gestures with my hands and then swept my arm at the door, a wave of invisible energy going out in a line. I was unsure of where it went, or even how far, or what it did. I was simply following my script, following the story of the play.

 

A motion behind me triggered the next scene.

 

A leaper, a snarling jumping mass of pure rage jumped at me, and I dove off the walkway, firing my Kraken in to the mass below me. The barrel diffused weapon spit rounds of death into chargers and runners below me as I entered freefall, the Leaper landing where I was standing before, watching me with dead eyes of rage. My Kraken ran dry soon enough, and the next scene started. A twist of my body, a cocoon of energy, and the leaper I left behind fell in my place, my own being now safely standing upon the walkway I just left behind.

 

The pistol was holstered, no need for it any more. I would discard it, but I was still Tenno, and the Kraken was as much a part of me as my suit was. I ready my Kogake, and make a sprint for the wall, running along the vertical surface towards the next walkway. I grab the ledge and run swiftly along the platform, listening to the sounds of chaos and confusion below as the Hivemind tried to ascertain what was happening. I stop and turn invisible, bending light around my body so I was little more than golden dust upon the wind. I leap over the railing, and ready myself for the impact.

 

A long drop, faster and faster until my Kogake meet the flesh of the Healer Ancient who crumples and falls under me like paper before a rock. It's rotten seeping flesh breaking and burning under my assault. As I land on the ground, the healer falling apart before me. I turn around and start punching and fighting the enemies around us, them putting up little resistance to my invisble burning fists and feet.

 

My fists strike and shatter unprepared bones, break unaware flesh, and tear relaxes muscles. The abominations around me feel and fall before my fury. My invisibility wears off, and the horde becomes aware of my position among them. They turn as one, directed by the Hivemind in a choreographed routine U;ve seen an uncountable amount of times. The Horde leaps, another sickly pulse of energy tending to those wounded, but unfelled by my hands, and I switch with the healer, his own flock tearing into his flesh before they can be stopped.

 

I was on the outskirts of the ocean of twisted and mutated flesh now, close to my objective I was originally sent here for. The climax of my show, the middle of Act 3, was just up these ramps and stairs, waiting to be taken care of, ready to be dispatched in a cloud of smoke and shrapnel. I banged my foot upon the ground, drawing the attention of the Horde, and started running, leading a long line of chargers up the ramps and stairs. I made gestures, cartwheels, and flips, casting the same energy from before into the landscape, it's purpose still unknown to me as well as the nature of the energy.

 

All I know is that it is important and must be done.

 

I reach the top of the stairs, the machines just behind me, and I project a decoy to keep the creatures busy while I await the appointed cue to trigger the main event, the main scene that will mark this production as the greatest yet. As the chargers and Leapers smack and claw at the holographic image, their minds unable to comprehend it's complexity and purpose, the pieces fall into place.

 

A transport, a heavily armored and armed transport bursts into the cargo bay, guns blazing and blasting at the ocean, tearing into the sea of ugly deformed creatures and abominations with glee, while Grineer marines start to pour from the back, Flameblades, poor mimicry of my own teleportation skills mixed with incendiary prods, Lancers, whose machine pistols and mighty shields could not stop a simple dagger, and Lancers all taking up formation on the back, firing and smashing into the Infested around them. A final form emerges, a one called Corporal Argan Frelax, a Grineer Marine who was wanted dead from the Lotus, but was so crafty he never stayed in one place long enough for us to arrive and never would appear where a Warframe was stationed, and begins firing with a modified Sobek.

 

The Infested turn to face this new threat, Ancients charging towards the blazing guns and burning prods with reckless abandon while restoring the chargers and Leapers of the pack. With this distraction, I begin my composition, taking the cue head on. I draw my Paris and fire arrow after arrow into the pair of machines, crude ugly drawing on them depicting sexual preferences of the drivers as well as ore mined. The arrows embed themselves in the thick armor, and eventually, strike a fuel line, causing each one to explode in a shower of spark, flames, and metal.

 

All along the pathway up here, the area in which I sent the same mysterious energy into the environment, wiring that ran up the walkway and into the walls surrounding these machines started sparking and overloading, discharging their electricity into any conductive body nearby, including the infested creatures. While they were resistant to the damage, they were not immune, and several fell from strong arcs alone. Those same wires also traveled into the landing pad of the transport, the Grineer Marines continuing to fight the horde, brought here due to that energy from earlier, mimicking a Grineer distress call that they could not ignore.

 

A cold smile plays out under my helmet, and I do a jester's dance for a moment before breaking off, the little moment giving a measure of humor to the unknown and all-seeing spectators watching the show. I ran out and off the little landing the machines were on, jumping into open space before I switched with one of the Lancers by the transport, letting him fall to his death while I appearing amongst his kin. I stood face to face with a shocked Argan Frelax, before the moment was broken by my burning fists smashing his skull into pieces, his underlings turning to look at the sound and movement of my murder, giving the infested Horde time to tear into them anew, rending cloned flesh apart and sending unnatural blood to splash along the ground.

 

I ran past the soon to be corpses, heading for the open door, bypassing the hard vacuum barrier with a simple shift of my shields as I leaped into nothingness, held aloft with zero gravity and momentum, the grizzly scene playing out 'below me' as the Infested did their work with mindless single-minded glee. At this point, I had the audience on the edge of their seats, waiting to see if I would be lost among the stars, or a rescue come to my aid. I let them stew for several seconds, wondering, waiting, before the extraction ship pulling up 'behind' me and took my into it's belly, swallowing my whole before blasting off to home.

 

As I rode along, the faint sounds of clapping and cheering could be heard in my mind, the spectators entertained and pleased with my performance. I laughed to myself on a show well done, and knew I would be returning for an encore.

 

The show must go on, after all.

 

Jadoth

The ship was freezing.

 

Not that it bothered him, of course. Frost was used to the cold - after all, he could often be found in the midst of a howling, frozen maelstrom, hurling jagged shards of ice at his foes. He didn't consider sub-zero temperatures to be all that hazardous.

 

It was amusing, not troubling, that his shields had diverted half of their power to protecting him from an environment that was little more than an inconvenience for him. He didn't feel cold, at least not in the physical sense. To him, "cold" was something that was more of an emotional or a mental thing, something that he felt, not some status that his systems reported.

 

Frost wandered through the empty corridors of the frozen Grineer ship, a white and blue spectre treading silently upon ice-encrusted walkways. It was eerily quiet and the failing lights cast a faint, flickering glow over his surroundings. A small part of him guessed that he was on an abandoned vessel... or worse, a vessel overrun with Infested. He shivered at the mere thought of it.

 

There was just something about the Infested that made them seem worse than a squadron of Grineer or a room overflowing with MOAs. He didn't know if it was the copious amounts of slime they left behind after a skirmish, or those pod-like growths that clung to the floors and walls of ships they took over, or the fact that they seemed flat-out reluctant to die no matter how many rifle clips he emptied into them.

 

Still, he had a mission to complete: Scout the ship and report back. The task seemed simple and uninteresting, but who knew what the vessel might hold? An Orokin artifact, perhaps, or a hostage in need of rescue? The mere possibility of something so valuable being housed on the ship was impossible to ignore. His unease at being alone aboard a ghost ship or an Infested ship was trivial in comparison.

 

With resolve as unyielding as the ice around him and as frigid as his name, Frost ventured onwards through shadowy, empty hallways, pausing only once to investigate a storage room. The lockers and containers had been left unlocked, and he rummaged through their contents in search of anything of interest.

 

The various types of ammunition and small piles of credits he found were far from important or interesting. Feeling a twinge of disappointment, he quietly shut the storage container's lid and began to straighten from his crouched position -

 

- only to feel something sharp and metallic bite into the side of his neck and the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on his back and being dragged across the room by a heavy wire, his rifle slipping from his grasp, the massive Scindo he carried screeching as its edge grated against the floor. A pair of heavy robotic knees slammed into his chest, pinning him down, and the pockmarked face of a Scorpion filled his vision.

 

"What a catch," she purred, lightly digging the edge of her machete into the chin of his helmet. "You've come for the diplomat, haven't you? He'll be dead by the time you reach him... if you can reach him."

 

One moment the Scorpion was alive, breathing, warm - the next moment, she was almost completely encased in ice, her expression frozen between shock and outrage. Her mechanical legs, the only parts of the Scorpion that were not imprisoned, twitched feebly as Frost squirmed out from beneath her.

 

He climbed to his feet, towering over her as he reached for his Scindo. He could not tell if she was aware of him raising the axe high above his head, or if she was watching as he brought the flat side of his weapon smashing down upon her prison. Perhaps she was already in merciful, frigid oblivion by the time that the icy tomb, along with its prisoner, shattered into countless pieces.

 

Frost returned his Scindo to its resting place across his back, and went to retrieve his fallen rifle. Shards of ice crunched under his boots as he walked. So there was a prisoner being held aboard the ship - a prisoner that was supposedly going to die before Frost could reach him. It was infuriating. Protocol demanded that he report back to the Lotus immediately and wait for her? their? response, but was protocol more valuable than the life of a hostage?

 

The hostage will not die, Frost promised himself as he removed the grappling hook from his armor. Not while I'm here. Not while I can do something about it.

 

He threw all thoughts of stealth and caution to the wind, and ran.

 

Several Grineer patrols attempted to stop him, but they were merely hindrances. A burst of fire from his rifle, a quick swing of his axe, and they were no longer a problem for him. But somewhere along his rampage, he had set off an alarm, and the entire ship was now aware of his presence. He was no longer facing small patrols, but heavily armed squads hellbent on taking him down.

 

Pebbles before an avalanche.

 

He was in the middle of a skirmish when a message from the Lotus caught him off-guard. The crisp, feminine voice sounded slightly annoyed.

 

"Report in, Frost."

 

"Just a hostage situation," he replied casually, burying the edge of his Scindo in the skull of one unfortunate Lancer. "They kidnapped a diplomat. He doesn't have much time -"

 

"Find cover and wait. Reinforcements are on their way."

 

A bit too late for that...

 

He continued his path of destruction through the ship, leaving butchered, frozen, and/or bullet-riddled corpses in his wake. It eventually occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going, but there was little he could do about that, short of asking the next patrol he encountered for a map.

 

Thanks to his lack of directions, Frost was in a rather sorry state by the time he stumbled across the prison block. The countless short but vicious battles had left him drained of energy, and his ammo reserves were running low. On the bright side, he had finally reached his goal. All he had to do was rescue the diplomat.

 

It was eerily quiet in the ship's prison. Only one sleepy-looking guard was posted, and he stood outside a cell - obviously the one that held the diplomat. Frost raised his rifle and quickly took him out.

 

Too easy, he mused as he vaulted over the upper level railing, landing shakily on his feet. Suspiciously too easy...

 

He stepped over the guard's body and reached for the console he had been guarding, but the cell door whooshed open before he could touch anything.

 

The cell was empty. A loud, high-pitched alarm pierced the silence. He had walked right into a trap.

 

You set me up, Frost thought furiously at the Scorpion from earlier. The heavy footfalls of approaching troops were growing louder and louder. You set me up!

 

He whirled around just in time to see a multitude of Grineer fanning out on the upper level and just as many (if not more) firearms aimed at him. A harsh, guttural voice barked an order, and his world was filled with blinding light and searing heat.

 

And then everything went cold.

Sprinting through the corridors of a Corpus ship was one thing.

 

Sprinting through the corridors of a Corpus ship with a priceless Orokin artifact in his hands and what felt like the ship's entire crew hot on his heels was something else entirely.

 

His partner's plan had been simple: Run. Fast.

 

However, it was easier said than done for Frost. While his heavy armor could withstand the torrents of laser bolts and energy blasts at his back, it made sprinting a challenge.

 

Unsurprisingly, his lightly armored, faster squadmate was far ahead of him, no doubt waiting for him at the extraction point. He idly wondered why he'd volunteered to carry the artifact when he was the slower of the two.

 

"How far?" he asked.

 

"Fifty, maybe sixty meters... wait. Scratch that. You've got quite a journey ahead of you, Your Frostiness, sir. Look for stairs to your left. Or to your right. Not sure which. Might have been both. Might have been neither. Find out for me, would you?"

 

He made a mental note to add that response to the file he kept which was devoted to words of wisdom he'd heard from Loki. Once he had escaped his predicament, of course.

 

"Never mind that. Any hostiles between me and the extraction point? I've got at least twenty units on my case and I'd rather not add to that number."

 

"You have a fan club? Where can I get one of those?"

 

"Answer the damn question, Loki."

 

There was a brief moment of communication silence. As his luck would have it, the silence was just long enough for him to hear the soft whine of a railgun charging up behind him. Frost hurled himself to the floor, rolling forwards as a blue-white bolt of searing energy passed just over his head. If he had been standing, it would probably have left a smoldering hole somewhere in his torso.

 

"Uh... no. Not really."

 

It turned out that there were no stairs between him and the extraction point. The only obstacle between him and the location where their spacecraft was attatched was an unguarded, unlocked door. Frost clutched the artifact to his chest and leapt forwards, vaulting over a broken container and landing in a controlled slide, his momentum carrying him forwards and towards safety.

 

He was so intent on his destination that he barely caught sight of the flicker of harsh red light above him. What he did catch was a face full of green laser.

 

A loud, angry buzz filled the air as his shields battled briefly with the barrier. He was suspended in midair for a split second before the laser beams claimed victory by flinging him away with enough force to knock him on his back. A security camera glared down accusingly at his prone form, though its mockery was short lived. A well-aimed pistol shot punched through the device, and a spray of sparks and scrap metal rained down to the floor.

 

Frost dragged himself to his feet and limped through the barrier-free doorway, trying to shake off the prickling pain that the collision had left him with. The door slid shut behind him, and Loki activated its locking mechanisms with the touch of a wall panel.

 

"I didn't know if you counted cameras as hostiles," Loki said. He sounded innocent... too innocent.

 

"You're going to be the death of me."

 

A warm, comforting hand rested on his shoulder and began steering him towards their spacecraft. He almost leaned against his fellow Tenno for support - almost. He managed to catch himself just in time.

 

"I'd never let you die," Loki replied cheerfully. "You're too much fun to annoy."

 

Kalenath

Silence

 

The body was pinned out of sight, the meter long metal rod that stuck it to the wall a testament to the skill of the being who had fired it. A quick dark armored hand touched the now twitching form's boxy helmet, disconnecting it's com system with the ease of long practice and leaving the Corpus crewman to die in silence. Without the ability to alert his compatriots that death was walking the halls, the Corpus troop gave another shudder and was still. The blue armored hand patted his shoulder and was gone. The silence was not broken.

 

She moved in the shadows, her dark blue and gray armor melting into the limited concealment. She was a predator, the ultimate predator, and her prey was near. She checked her weapons out of reflex. One arrow spent from her quiver, a full load throwing knives and her glaive. Not the most destructive of weapons, perhaps. But no one denied their lethality. Or, at least they did not do it for long. She found a good spot, a ventilation shaft that led to the inner core of the habitat she was stalking. She paused momentarily, still in the shadows, and readied her bow. All was silent.

 

Some might say that striking from ambush was dishonorable. Some might relish the rush of close combat, trusting in their strength to survive. Some might yearn to pit their skill against the enemy blade to blade. Not her. She was cold. She was silence.

 

She had no idea what Nef Anyo had done to deserve the Lotus' wrath and truth be told, she didn't really care. She had been raised and trained to be the ultimate fighting machine. A living weapon, honed in the fires of war and death until almost all of her meager humanity was gone. The long sleep in her cryopod had not changed anything. Perhaps she had lost some memory. But in the end, it did not matter. She was what she was. She was Banshee.

 

Noise.

 

Sounds of boots on metal deck sounded nearby and she carefully peered out of the vent. There he was. Her target. Corpus Sergeant Nef Anyo. His favored weapon, a sniper rifle, was cradled in his hands, but he was speaking to another Corpus troop, and facing away from her. That was not the problem. The problem was the squad of troops that were marching behind him. She pondered her options for a millisecond and then decided, strode from the vent. The troops had all moved away as power surrounded her in a field of noiselessness.

 

She drew and fired in a soundless dance of lethality. The trailing troops went down in heap, none of his compatriots noticing his sudden absence in the silence. Again and again, she drew and fired, each arrow pinning a troop to the wall away from their comrades' sight. Finally, only two remained, her target and the one was speaking to. Something warned Anyo as she drew her bow to extension, her field of silence fading. Too late. He froze for just a moment on seeing her, her bow drawn to full extension, his death written on the head of the arrow. Then it sang.

 

"No!" His companion had time to scream as the arrow, which had been aimed to strike Anyo in the heart, slammed into his head as he ducked. Anyo fell without  a sound. "Rea Sebulba!" The other Corpus shouted as he raised his energy rifle, only to meet another arrow. This one pinned him to the wall where he hung, twitching. He was still alive, but incapacitated. "No..." He begged as Banshee strode forward, her bow was quickly slung and her dagger of dark metal coming out.

 

A quick flip of the dagger point and the Corpus goon was screaming into silence in his helmet as his com died. Banshee strode to where Anyo was twitching, her boot nudging the feebly moving Corpus sniper. Her heart was as cold as space as she drove the point of her dagger into the eyeslit of Anyo's space suit helmet and he stopped twitching.

 

Banshee rose from her prey and looked at the Corpus troop who was feebly clawing at the arrow that pinned him to the wall. He opened his helmet and screamed at her.

 

"You murdering Tenno scum! You wil-Urk!" His tirade broke off as Banshee grabbed him by the throat and held him until his face turned blue. She watched dispassionately as he strangled in her grip. Only after he was done twitching did she release her fingers.

 

As she returned to the vent to egress the base and head out for another mission, anyone who had been very close might have heard soft singing.

 

"Screams of misery, screams of victory, blood, blood, blood, blood...((To Rafiki's first tune from 'The Lion King')) Dreams of darkness, dreams of chaos, blood, blood, blood, blood..."

 

Matheyx

It was just another routine mission, get in, rescue the captive, get out. Vauban was unsure if he should take it slow, avoid being seen, or just rush in and out, drawing attention and making an example of how a single Tenno could decimate the crew of a Grineer ship. “No matter.” He thought as he entered his ship and flew towards the Grineer Galleon. “I’ll go with whatever is more efficient at the moment, if I get seen, so be it”

 

A Grineer was walking down a hallway on the big Galleon prison ship, seemingly safe, yet ever alert for the threat of the Lotus and her army. He turned around a corner, and was met by a shocking surprise. A little white grenade was lying on the floor. He went closer and closer until it shot out a beam of lightning, in his last moments he saw a Tenno dropping down, yet it looked less organic than the Tenno he had heard about.

 

“How predictable”, the Vauban thought to himself as he picked his Tesla back up. “There always seems to be someone who falls for that trap”. He walked through the corridor thinking about how the next encounter would be, if a few Teslas would do, or if he had to use a heavier load, like a Vortex. He readied his grenades in preparation, put an arrow on his Paris and checked his Glaive to see if it was sharp as ever. It was.

 

He slipped into the next room where there were…. 4 Grineer, he counted. He overheard them speaking about the Grineer war hero, Lieutenant Lech Kril arriving to exactly this ship in a few days, to bring in some captured tenno from his last battle. “I have to get this information to The Lotus”, he whispered to himself as he tossed out a Tesla and proceeded to shoot at the three remaining Grineer. One of the Grineer almost got to the security panel as Vauban’s Glaive embeddet itself in his spine. He fell on his knees and tried to shout, that other Grineer would hear him, but his loss of blood, and the Glaive in his back quickly put a stop to that.

 

Vauban now knew that he had to take it slow, avoid being seen. It isn’t every day you can get a shot at a Grineer War hero, and if they wanted a chance, they would definitely not want them to know the ship has been breached before, therefore making the chance of a dead war hero higher. He ran through the room, using Bounce to propel himself forwards and over the enemies. A clever plan, one that only Vauban really would ever be able to achieve.

 

He got through the rooms, and over to the holding area. There was a Grineer Lancer guarding each of the cells. There was a total of 6 cells, spread across the room. “This isn’t going to be easy." He whispered to himself. "I’ll have to toss out either a lot of Teslas, or a few Vortexes… Or just a well-placed Bastille”.  The Grineer never knew what happened as Vauban tossed out a Bastille that covered the entire room, so that nobody were able to move but Vauban.

 

 Carefully, he put down Teslas in strategic places to quickly dispatch of the Grineer after the Bastille was down, and quickly went over to the main console to open all of the holding cells. The Tenno and Vauban tried to get into the ventilation system of the Galleon, to move through it to the extraction point, and as they reached it, the lights began to flicker…

 

Drakeardian

The Assault

The Odysseus docked by the CORPUS space port, transferring the numerous Cryopods and Oriken technology they had “acquired” from a dig site on another planet, the biggest catch they made was a sleeping Tenno still in his pod and equipped with the Frost Prime Warframe, the buyers will be pleased thought Nef Anyo who directed the operation. The recruits, the veterans and the engineers talking to one another about some article or another, not seeing the 4 robed figures among the crowd, their faces covered with large hoods. They watched as they dragged the slumbering Warframe and began to approach the CORPUS troopers.

 

One of the soldiers looked at the 4 then shouted “CORPUS operations citizens, do not interfere!” The 4 kept walking up to the area. The CORPUS grunt shouted again “CORPUS operations, Do NOT Interfere!” again, no reply, no budges, no fear.  

They couldn’t be could they?

Quickly the grunt ordered for backup and in less than a minute, the four were surrounded by crewmen, prodders, MOAs and Ospreys. The 4 just stood still, they waited and waited, until one of the 4 presented his Skana, slamming it into the ground, 12 Javelins firing out from his blade, out of the targets in front of him as they dropped like flies, another suddenly slams his fist into the ground, an ice wave charging into the crowd guarding the Cryopods, the robed Warframes suddenly showing as tattered with plasma bolts, the Excalibur, the Frost, the Nyx and the Mag all ready for action.

 

 Nyx firing her Braton whilst manipulating a Crewman’s mind to attack a MOA, Mag pulling a MOA as she smashes one of her Fang Daggers into its gun and core, the Frost presenting the stalker’s Scythe in his hand and slices into several frozen crewmen and MOAs and the Excalibur slicing the crewmen in half who attempt to transport the cryo pods away whilst the other Tenno are busy with the rest of the crew, The bloody massacre all watched by Anyo though the cameras, watching as his entire operation suddenly crumbles by the hands of the one thing they all bargained from.

 The Frost approaches the grunt, pointing his Sicarus at the crippled man, holding his frostbitten stump. “Please…I got a family…” The grunt begs as he looks at the Frost. He just looks back, but points his pistol down and approaches the Cryo pods along with his fellow brother and sisters, The Frost Prime’s Cryopods untouched and undamaged like the rest of the artifacts

 

“Excellent work Tenno, you will be rewarded for this” The Lotus said though the Tenno’s communicators, the Tenno looked to one and another as the room went black…

 

AnonMD

Time seems to slow for the Volt as he watches his Ankyros-covered fist smash through a Corpus Moa with ease, cracking through its outer shell and ruining the electronics within. He moves like the force he is named for, arcing from one enemy to the next, until none remain standing within the room. The Volt lets out a withheld breath as he walks towards the next door. The sounds of movement are obvious on the other side. Drawing his Vipers, he readies himself for the next slaughter. As the door raises, the crewmen on the other side are treated to the glowing visage of the Volts shield, which soon sends countless rounds rocketing through it. All four are silenced before they can even let out a shout. The Volt steps through his bulwark, and noticed a lone crewman standing at the end of the hall. He is standing completely still, horrified at the scene he had just witnessed.

 

He cries out in a foreign tongue, and leaps for a nearby console. The Volt raises his hand and a blast of electricity sends the crewman flying. Straight into the glass window behind him. Time slows once more, and the Volt sprints away from the cracking window, towards the closing door. He barely manages to make it through, and one of his gauntlets catches between the two closing slabs of metal. He quickly jerks his hand back, and winces as he hears the gauntlet be crushed. As he goes to turn, something slams into his back, and causes him to bang against the shut door. Spinning around, he ducks under the next blow of the Prod Crewman, and sends his remaining Ankyros careening into his face. The crewman stumbles backward, and soon is lit up by one of the Volt's Vipers.

 

A red message instantly appears inside his visor. "Enemy analysis: Organic. Threat level: Impotent."

 

The Volt grins as he approaches the next door, drawing the largest weapon in his arsenal; The Ogris.

 

"I'll show you who's impotent..."

 

Ghost333

The Corpus ship had its alarms blaring out an alert. Various security teams, consisting of panicked Crewmen and stalwart MOA locked down their positions in multiple rooms while an intruder made his way quickly to the ships Fusion Reactor, with the intent of destroying it.

 

The Intruder was a Tenno, an Excalibur of incredible skill amongst his Peers. Despite coming out of Cryosleep much later than many other Tenno he had met, he could still take a blade to them. His Boltor was fresh off of the foundry construction line, and had already torn through swaths of enemies, while his Aklato, lovingly named ‘Harley and Godsend,’ were at the ready. His Cronus blade, which he had stolen off of Captain Vor, was sharpened with the care of an expert, and crackled with fire, ice and lightening.

 

The Excalibur had come to a connector room with two supply closets and an access panel that would have held valuable data, but that was not his mission. There were no Corpus in the room, however, so the Tenno took time to start looting. Then the lights started flickering.

What the? Power surge? The Tenno thought. This can’t be good.

Then the Excalibur heard a voice that sent shivers down his spine.

 

“I know your every move, Ghost. The Death of Golem shall not go unpunished.”

 

Nailed it. Lotus damn it.

 

“I am your reckoning!”

A figure appeared in the center of the room. His armor was black, and shrouded in shadow. The Excalibur readied his Aklato, and opened fire faster than he had ever fired before.

The Shadowy figure quickly readied his own weapon – a Braton. From what the Tenno could see, it was a Vandal variety, firing faster than what it should have. The Tenno quickly ducked behind cover, just as his shields went down and the Stalker charged.

I am not dying here today! The Tenno thought defiantly. He reloaded his Aklato, then emptied their magazines into the stalker as he began to strike with his own blade; a Cronus like his own. Before the figure could strike again, the Excalibur fired a final fatal shot, then rolled out of the way as the Figure collapsed on the ground, then shifted into a meditative pose.

 

“What…have you done?”

 

The Excalibur fell to the ground for a moment, then looked at his assailant as he disappeared.

Go jump off of a bloody bridge. After muttering his defiance, the mortally wounded Tenno waited for his shields to recharge before continuing his mission.

 

Edited December 5, 2013 by Piranah1

[Piranah1]

Tyranthius

The LOKI sprinted through the halls of a Corpus outpost, datamass in hand. Its speed was unmatched, even among other Warframes, an advantage put to good use in missions such as this. It had taken him less than three minutes to locate all four terminals specified, less than ten seconds in total to bypass their firewalls, and here he was, already heading for extraction.

 

"You're still in the clear. None of their sensors have detected you."

 

And they haven't even seen him yet. This, the Tenno reflected, was how a Spy Mission should be done. No detection, no fuss, no confrontation. Combat was the crutch of amateurs. And to say nothing of some of the Tennos he had heard of, conducting Spy Missions as though they were conducting Extermination. Disgusting.

 

This fell in line with his reputation. From his first missions after waking from the Long Sleep, this particular Tenno had been renowned for his efficiency and reliability in his approach to missions. He employed stealth where it was warranted, and bloody massacre only where it was necessary. Even when forced, to combat, he contrived to do so in the most safe, efficient manner possible; this almost invariably meant a fifty meter gap between him and his targets, a gap crossed only by the bullets of his Snipetron Vandal. In melee situations, his opponents routinely found themselves attacking hard-light facsimiles of the LOKI while he systematically butchered them  from behind with his Dual Ethers.

 

He was respected among the ranks of the Tenno. His many successes, especially the recent ones, were hailed as being exemplary and, he hoped, might have even attracted the attention of the Lotus. He was to be given a trial soon. He just knew it.

 

He activated his Invisibility, bypassing a patrol group of crewmen and MOA, and entered a bunker to avoid the open space where all might see him. He was still invisible when he entered the bunker.

 

And he was still invisible when the lighting began to flicker.

 

"Tyranthius."

 

He stopped, shocked beyond belief. What he heard was not possible.

 

"You cannot hide from your guilt, Tyranthius. And you can't hide from me."

 

He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold that sapped at his shields. He was definitely hearing that voice, he thought. He heard the voice not the manner that he heard the occasional taunt from Grineer soldiers, spoken aloud and processed through sensors in the Warframe. He heard this voice in the manner he heard the voices of his fellow Tenno, during the rare moments that they spoke to each other during missions; as though thought aloud in one's own mind. The speaker was most likely speaking from a Warframe. Most likely a Tenno.

 

He did not understand why he felt so afraid. While he had began this mission alone as per his custom, it was not unusual for other Tenno to enter a mission at a later period to provide assistance. Perhaps that was the problem. He heard no trace of the usual camaraderie or deference in this voice.

 

He initiated a visual display that would allow him to see who was speaking to him through the speech interface. He saw an unfamiliar helmet, shrouded in darkness. There was no specified name above the display where one should be.

 

"The murder of Tyrex Fran* will not go unavenged."

 

Tyrex Fran?, the Tenno thought. Confusion now mixed with his fear. Then he remembered. One month prior, he had been sent to a Corpus ship to assassinate one of their engineers. Tyrex Fran had managed to obtain a set of inactive Tenno Sentinels and had set about attempting to merge their capabilities with those of Corpus Osprey. Tyranthius had dueled him in a hard-fought battle, where the engineer had deployed several of the Osprey-Sentinel hybrid prototypes, with Tyranthius narrowly gaining the advantage in the end with a well-placed Radial Disarm. He had destroyed the grounded prototypes and killed the suddenly defenseless engineer. He had done this alone. A crowing achievement.

 

But if the voice was a Tenno, why did he speak of avenging Fran, a Corpus? A Tenno sympathizing with the enemy? The idea defied belief. All Tenno, no matter their personality, were steadfast in their loyalty to each other. Without exception.

 

He looked around him. The bunker was small and cramped, not at all his preferred environment for battle. He had to take the fight elsewhere.

 

"Now it ends!"

 

A large, shadowy figure rose before him. Cloaked in black smoke, it's design was ambiguous, but it was definitely a Warframe. A shining blood-red light emanated from the smoke, like the light of a dying world. His apprehension deepened.

 

Banishing his fear, he drew his Ethers, readying them. Whatever his opponent's intentions, he would not be easy prey. His opponent drew from a mag-sheathe on its back, a long, curved scythe, its blade gleaming a dull, dark color. He rushed forward and their duel began.

 

Tyranthius' impression of his opponent was that it was large, and using a heavy weapon, was likely to be slow. This was not at all the case. His opponent swung the scythe as though it had no weight, its footwork was incredibly fast. It took all of Tyranthius' speed to keep up with his opponent's attacks, dodging them and delivering a flurry of blows in return. His opponent suddenly made an overhead cut, which Tyranthius easily dodged. The side-swipe that came immediately after was initiated with incredible speed. Tyranthius, seeing that he had no time to dodge, attempted a parry with his Ethers instead. He was knocked backward with violent force, as though he had not blocked at all. A quick check revealed that his shields were depleted instantly by the attack and his Warframe had taken minor damage to its arms. He drew back, assessing his situation and concluded that he should not engage this opponent in melee.

 

He drew from a sheathe on his thigh a set of throwing knives. His opponent did the same.

 

*Made fictional boss, for the purpose of not interfering very much with game canon.

Quick as a flash the throwing knives flew at the dark figure, only to be repelled by its shields. At the same time, it launched a storm of its own blades, which the LOKI barely managed to avoid. As it was, two had ripped through his barely recharged shields, which were depleted from the cold in addition, and had pierced his Warframe as though it didn't exist.

 

Seeing the amount of damage inflicted upon him in so short a time, it occurred to Tyranthius that perhaps he wouldn't win from direct confrontation. His opponent was strong beyond imagining, was better equipped, and could even match his speed in blades, Infested take it. What kind of LOKI faced an unknown enemy straight on anyway? A dead one most likely, he thought with grim humor. He had been arrogant; drunk on his previous successes and perceived skill, he had thought himself equal to the task. He could still do it, he decided. He would just need to change tactics.

 

He rolled behind his opponent, avoiding another flight of blades, and as its back was to him, deployed a Decoy of hard-light that would look and sometimes even act as he did. Two sets of blades struck the figure, tempered alloy and hard-light. The shields resisted, then broke, much to Tyranthius' elation.

 

"Your Tenno powers are useless."

 

Calmly, as though the blades were nothing more than an inconvenience, the figure drew a bow from a mag-sheathe on its back and without hesitation aimed it straight at the real LOKI's helmet. He fired an arrow accelerated by intense magnetism. The supposed Warframe staggered, then faded. As the figure looked around him, two shots from a Snipetron Vandal struck him in the back of the helmet, in quick succession.

 

Tyranthius grew excited. He anticipated that his opponent would see the Decoy for what it was and had Switch Teleported with it at the last moment. This foe, with its improbably powerful weapons and its incredibly resilient Warframe, could be beaten. He would be the one to do it, he would return to Headquarters with it and the datamass, and present it to the Lotus. He would tell his story, and the Lotus would do what it would. That didn't matter. What did matter was the commendation he now had guaranteed. He might even skip ranks!

 

The figure vanished, and reappeared behind him. He rolled to the side just as the scythe cleaved the floor where he had stood. He fired two shots point-blank to the helmet, and rolled to the side again. The figure was manic in its swings now, perhaps driven by fury and desperation. It knows that its losing, Tyranthius thought smugly. He would give it no time to recharge its shields. He aimed at its helmet and fired a shot that would kill it, or at the very least force it to flee. I WIN!, he almost said aloud.

 

And he would have, had the figure decided he'd had enough.

 

It dashed forward, the bullet flew over its helmet. Tyranthius didn't even have the time to register the attack, when suddenly, the figure was behind him. He looked down at himself. The scythe had cut him open from his neck to his torso. It had sliced clean through his gear pack.

 

                                                                                                ****

The figure didn't even turn around. He knew where he'd cut. Distantly, he heard Tyranthius staggering, a door sliding open and closed, a sound of something collapsing in the snow. Another one had been brought to justice. He turned around. To his amusement, the datamass was gone. In what must have been his dying spasms, Tyranthius had still attempted to continue his mission. No matter. He would never finish it. Would never finish another one, ever again.

 

"You lose."

 

And then he vanished into black smoke.

                                                                                                 ****

Tyranthius had no idea how long he had lain in the snow. The struck Restoration Nanocytes had seeped in to his wounds, healing him as he lay on the ground. The fast falling snow had hidden him from patrols.

 

Heavily, he stood up, wondering how much time had passed. He was more or less healed, though he was not at full integrity. he entered the bunker and confirmed what he already knew. His dark opponent had gone.

 

"You lose."

 

Those words cut him deeper than the scythe had. He had lost. He had stood on the cusp of victory and glory, and it was snatched from his grasp with a single stroke. Yet he still lived.

 

And now, he realized what this truly meant. He still lived. His opponent, his Stalker had endeavored to kill him, and it had failed. Doubtless it had believed him dead. Well, he'd see about that. Tyranthius would pay it back its insult in kind. He would be the stalker now. He would hunt down as many important enemies of the Tenno he could lay his hands on. The Grineer and the Corpus would bleed, and when it came to avenge them, Tyranthius would be ready. He would slay it, take its weapons for his own, and kill even more Grineer and Corpus with them, just to make his point. 

 

Gripping the datamass, he walked toward the extraction point still marked on his visual display. He spoke aloud, for the first time in his memory.

 

"I will be your reckoning."

 

 

 

 

This is a dramatized account of my first solo encounter with the Stalker. I still pursue this objective.

Somewhere, in a Corpus ship, Ren Arix was in a slump. He was a Crewman. He didn't have much choice really. He wasn't smart enough to be a Tech, he didn't have the patience for Assembly, and was basically what the higher-ups called a bullet sponge. Oh he had some level of technological skill, just about enough to use a Dera or maintain your average MOA; any Corpus who didn't was considered unworthy of existence. After that, his rope ended. He wasn't even a good enough shot to serve in any important ships or installations, where they had Orokin technology in their engineering bays. He served in what was basically a Salvage transporter, where the most interesting thing you might find was the odd piece of Fieldron. But he was contented with his lot. He never had much initiative, and he always knew he would end up in a hellhole of pure boredom because of it.

 

Or at least, it used to be a hellhole of pure boredom. Two weeks ago, a Transport ship had docked in the hangar. It looked new, sleek, and immensely costly, precisely in contrast to its surroundings. Arix had watched from the windows of the floor just above the hangar's docking level. Out of the craft came a Corpus in a hostile-environment suit and helmet, just as Arix was, but from cut and material it was obviously superior, even from seen so far away. Judging from his clothing and the hover-tables laden with containers that followed him out of the ship, he was a Master Engineer of high order. Why anyone of his rank would be sent to a career dead-end of a ship baffled Arix. Perhaps it was a punishment, he guessed. Such things were common enough, but such a fall from grace still required a great deal of explanation.

 

Arix tried making inquiries, but was told only that he was to perform his duties as usual, with some alterations. He was to help haul several hover-trolleys worth of obviously expensive engineering equipment. Strangely, he was also forbidden from entering the Engineering Bay. It was never a place he ever entered, not for want of clearance, he was long-time regular after all, but lack of interest. He never really had any reason to go into that place before. But this was just curious.

 

To his chagrin, his guard duties were also added to; now including a long shift at the hallway that led to the Engineering Bay, then at the new Engineer's quarters. If he's being treated this well, he's obviously not being punished, thought Arix bitterly. He checked the records, something he was still allowed to do damn it, and to his shock, there was no record of any transfer. The new Engineer's appointment was stated as though he had worked in the ship for years. It smelled of clandestine workings from the higher-ups.

 

He had to find out more, if only to break his monotonous existence for a moment. So, while supposedly delivering a fresh batch of materials, checking that no one was looking, he opened one of the containers.

 

Anticlimactically, it contained only several Ospreys. Arix cursed. Why, for tech's sake, did they need a Master Engineer guarded day and night if all he was working on were of bunch of Ospreys? He closed that container and opened another, expecting more Osprey. To his great shock, however he what he found were instead Tenno Sentinels. He had to stop, every instinct he had told him to stop, but maybe he decided he wanted an out from the worthlessness of his existence. In any event, he decided to know more.

 

He walked towards the Engineering Bay. Usually, materials to be brought inside were passed through a double-sided hatch that contained sophisticated scanners and threat detectors. So, with a trip to the power room, he casually disconnected the power to the scanners. He then set the power to come on in five minutes, leaving no trace of his actions. There. If his instructors could see him now. He stopped at the Bay doors and pressed the comm. button.

 

"Yes, what is it?", asked the voice from the comm.

 

"Materials for you sir," Arix replied, "But the hatch seems to be malfunctioning."

 

"Stupid rust-bucket ship!", raged the voice of the Engineer. "Everything breaks down in here. Damn it, just pass through the main door."

 

And with that, the door's light turned from red to green, and Arix entered.

 

The Bay was not at all he had expected. He had expected a ramshackle sort of place, outdated equipment and no engineer in sight. What he saw instead was gleaming new equipment, materials stacked everywhere, and an engineer busy with a Detonite torch. In the corner, unopened boxes of components were neatly piled. There was still a hint of the Bay's former nature in the walls, but it was markedly different from the other Crewmen's description of it.

 

"Just set it down with the rest", said the Engineer.

 

He did so, and looked at the Engineer. His back was turned, and appeared to be busy with his torch. Cautiously, Arix looked at a nearby monitor. What he saw were detailed schematics of Osprey and Sentinels. Confirming that the Engineer's back was still turned, he looked through more of the schematics. He saw unfamiliar designs. He felt a jolt of dread as he realized that the designs appeared to be a hybrid of Osprey and Sentinel, and if this were true, a project not meant for his eyes. If found out by the Lotus, Tenno would descend on the ship and slay them all, him included. Or perhaps they would digitize some of them, convert them, painfully, in to data to be explored at will. He shuddered at the thought.

 

Arix resolved to pretend he knew nothing. Better for everyone. He would leave the Bay and would never think on this again. He turned around, just in time to see the Engineer's Detonite torch leveled at his helmet. 

 

"Just what do you think you're doing?", asked Master Engineer Tyrex Fran.

 

Arix could only back away from the high-intensity flame as the Engineer locked the doors from the inside and advanced. That, and wish he had possessed the patience for Assembly.

I actually subscribe to the hypothesis that Tenno are units of consciousness uploaded into organic machines/suits, but it might be nice to write a story from that perspective.

 

Breathe in the cold air, thought Tyranthius. His masters had told him it would calm his nerves. So far, he wasn't inclined to believe them. It's good to be nervous, he tried to convince himself. Besides, he had good reason to be nervous on this day of all days. Or, at least, what could be counted as a day in a cloaked Dojo on the edge of the Origin system. Today was the day of evaluation. The day that would decide his worthiness to don a Warframe.

 

The ritual of evaluation was a leftover of Tenno society before the Long Sleep. With hurried cryo-purges having a tendency of erasing memories, the Tenno held dear to any remnant of their once proud civilization.

 

The day of evaluation was different for many aspiring Tenno, as were the circumstances that would lead them to participate in it. The children or wards of eminent Tenno, for example, were assessed personally by the Lotus, and upon their success, were granted a rare EXCALIBUR Prime, among other items, titles, and benefits. They said that one could rise to this status regardless of parentage, even when one has undergone a standard evaluation, but Tyranthius had heard that this was a feat immensely difficult to accomplish.

 

The average would-be Tenno, those of no outstanding parentage or guardianship, might participate in certain tests by authorized masters.  Upon success, they were granted a regulation EXCALIBUR, LOKI, or MAG, along with regulation equipment. Certainly not as glamorous as the first, but no less respectable.

 

Because most existing Tenno were those who had woke relatively recently, evaluation candidates were almost invariably rescues. With the Grineer Empire's constant expansion, many societies and settlements were left to dust in their wake. While Tenno were seldom dispatched to rescue the displaced, it was known that some of the kindhearted might occasionally take wards among them, if any volunteered. It was more common than one would think, as there was no shortage in the displaced of either admiration and gratitude to the Tenno, or hatred towards the Grineer.

 

Tyranthius had himself volunteered, hoping for the best. They said that some of the more eminent Tenno were searching for wards. He heard the name of Frost, titled Hunter, mentioned somewhere. Perhaps he'd be lucky. Instead he was taken by a large, brutal Warlord who used a Rhino Warframe. His Dojo was more or less a mercenary training camp; endless training sessions, limited food, hard accommodations, and even harder occupants. He  and his colleagues taught in an uncompromising manner, with the Warlord himself prizing combative ability above all else. 

 

Tyranthius had never been that way. Even in their practice sessions, he had never attacked directly, preferring instead to avoid, dodge, and parry until he found a weakness in his opponent's strategy, then and only then tagging them with his training blade. He knew, by peripheral vision, that the Warlord did not approve.

 

"Five minutes to evaluation. All candidates, please proceed to your assigned testing areas." 

 

Tyranthius rose from his meditation. He proceeded to his testing area. His heart was in his throat. He couldn't stay here much longer. He had to succeed in this evaluation. He paused in front of the door to the testing area. You train to be a Tenno, he told himself. Their will is uncompromising. The door slid open.

 

When he entered he knew he was doomed.

 

The room was a huge arena, outside of which many of his soon-to-be opponents were already taking practice swings. He had heard of such evaluations. A free-for-all, with the last candidate proclaimed successful. He was a better sword than most of his fellow candidates, but in such a battle that wouldn't make much difference.

 

Distantly, he heard the sterile female voice calling them to step into the arena. Already? He could have sworn he had just gotten here. They were all herded into position, and there was silence as the Warlord stepped in to the middle of the arena. He was in his Rhino, and each step was heavy against the floor. He spoke.

 

"Warriors! Today it will be decided whether you are worthy to wield a Warframe as I do, to be called a master of combat, or return in shame to your training. Do not disappoint me."

 

It was clear, even through his frame what disappointment would mean for the worst losers. He didn't punish all the losers, it was said. Only the most embarrassing ones.

 

"You are wearing assessment suits, wielding assessment weapons. They will simulate real damage. Get struck in the gut with a training blade, you lose. If someone aims their training pistol at your face and pulls the trigger, you lose. No actual bullets though, sorry to disappoint. Due to the chaotic nature of this battle, you will be issued only a blade and a sidearm. No fully automatic weapons will be given. I want this to be enjoyable."

 

There was some complaint for the lack of full-auto weapons, but overall the mood in the arena was tense excitement. The timer began to count down.

 

"5...4..."

 

He could win. He had to.

 

"...3...2..."

 

He was meant for greatness, he knew it. He just had to win.

 

"...1... Begin."

 

As one, the candidates drew their weapons and slashed, shot, and fought. Tyranthius drew his own blade. This would decide it.

Chaos reigned in the arena. It seemed as though there was no unit of space to be found that was not in danger of being swung through by a training blade. The reports of the training pistols rang out almost constantly. Interspersed through those were yells and curses. Every moment another candidate was eliminated. And somewhere, in that seething mass of organic violence, was Tyranthius.

 

The number of candidates had dropped in record time. Usually, the arena was much larger, offering many places to hide, or lie in wait. Sometimes so large that the first kill might take an hour to occur. This one was barely five times the size of the mass of humanity that now fought at its center. The Warlord that held the evaluation in this dojo believed that a battle without a casualty within the first few seconds was a very dull battle indeed. When the candidates first heard the signal to begin, there was a massive free-for-all, where everyone simply tried to eliminate everyone. Now, with about a third of the participants gone, there was more space to think, and shaky alliances began to form.

 

In that first free-for-all, Tyranthius was not among those imbeciles who fought it out in the center of the arena. He never understood why these people enjoyed direct, chaotic combat so much. Savages, he thought. He had been among the few to stay at the outer rim of the battle, taking aim with his training pistol and disappearing in the crowd before anyone wondered how that particular candidate was eliminated. His senses were at their peak, noticing every detail, where this gun was aiming, which candidates were so intent on fighting that they forgot to guard their rears.

 

Now, however, there wasn't that much chaos to exploit. The savages had learned the error of their ways, and were now actually beginning to think. Tyranthius looked around; there were about seventy-five of them left in the open arena. Several were now banding together, agreeing tacitly that they could always hit each other when all the others were gone. Many also put away their training blades and drew their sidearms. That did not bode well.

 

"You want to team up?", someone said to him. He turned to his left, and saw three people he recognized as being part of the group that took potshots from the outer rim. He nodded. He was going to need all the help he could.

 

"Good, now look to your right!" Tyranthius turned sand saw several candidates rushing towards his position, training pistols firing. Calmly he went down to one knee, and returned fire, each of his hard-light projectiles striking a head, teleporting the unfortunate candidate out of the arena. Their own hard-light projectiles were erratic in trajectory from their motion, flying pathetically far over his head. One managed to get close enough with a training blade, slashing down on Tyranthius. He was saved from elimination by his new teammates, parrying the blade and sending a cut at the enemy candidate's face. He vanished on contact.

 

"You have to be more careful", his new best friend said. He looked clearly at his teammate for the first time, and found to his surprise that she was female. She was lithe and muscular,with gray irises set in a rather angular face. She was in a full-body training suit that obscured the scalp, but Tyranthius thought he remembered seeing her with shoulder-length blonde hair. She might have looked attractive, but thee was something about her that suggested a viper's nature. She wielded model-Fang training blades, further enhancing the image.

 

"I can see that", said Tyranthius.

FrostyCMC

Drip, schwing, plop. "Again." Drip, schwing, plop. "Again." Drip, schwing, plop. "Again." Anya narrowed her eyes as she focused on the dripping faucet, trying to cut the drops with her Skana before they landed. Her teacher knelt a few feet away. Drip, schwing, plop. "Again."

 

She was really beginning to hate that word, as well as the man who said it. She sighed. She really shouldn't think that way about him, he had not only saved her and her family from the Grineer, but agreed to train her to be one of them. A Tenno, master of the killing arts. He was getting on in years, but she wasn't fooled. A Tenno did not reach his age by being easy to kill.

 

Drip, plop.

 

"You are distracted." He scolded.

 

"Yeah, well, your name makes no sense!" She snapped. He raised an amused eyebrow at her odd rebuttal. "Why are you called Frost when you don't even have a Frost Warframe?"

 

He rose, his golden Excalibur Prime helm snapping into place.

 

"You believe yourself ready to don a Warframe?" He spoke as he unsheathed his Orthos.

 

She hesitated for only a split second before replying. "I know I'm ready."

 

"Fine. I have just used forma on this suit, so the shield will be weak. If you can break it, you are ready. Begin."

 

She rushed forward, her lightning fast swipes being turned gracefully away one after the other. For a long time, he moved only to defend, deflecting or dodging with the grace of a dancer. Then he began to slowly speed up, his own strikes becoming more and more numerous as she was forced to defend herself, until all she could do was barely block his strikes.

 

Her teacher seemed to speed up with every blow, more and more getting through her defenses until she was covered with small cuts, any one of which could have been a fatal blow if he had desired to kill her. 

 

As she became more desperate, she noted something... off. Frost seemed to favor his left hand, and it showed in his stance.

 

'An opening?' She grinned.

 

A clever twist of the blade later, and she almost cheered as her teacher's weapon flew out of his hands. She raised her sword high, swung it triumphantly downwards ...

 

Only for it to be stopped cold by her teacher's bare hands. He took advantage of her shock in an instant, turning her blade aside and driving his elbow into her throat. She fell back, gagging as he resumed his kneeling position.

 

"A word of advice," He spoke as she recovered. "The moment when you feel you are most right about something is usually when you are most wrong. Now, the waterdrop. Again." Anya sighed as she picked up her fallen Skana and took her position. 

 

She really hated that word.

Anya swept through the holograms with ease. As she did, she thought back, to everything that had made her who she was today...

 

 

 

A little girl, no older than ten, was pushed along roughly. "Faster, brat!" The Grineer marine snapped. Her father picked her up and glared at the indifferent soldier, but didn't dare speak. They marched in silence with their fellow colonists, bound to be sold and indoctrinated by the Corpus, or used for cloning by the Grineer Empire.

 

"...Hey, weren't there ten of us a minute ago?"

 

The squad leader, a bulky clone holding an Ogris, paused. Indeed, after a quick head count it became apparent they were short three marines.

"Dammit. They had better not be playing with those Tenno action figures again." The captain grumbled. "They know the military banned-" 

To everyone's shock, the captain simply vanished mid-sentence.

 

Before anyone could blink, two more had fallen, daggers lodged in their throats. A figure dashed from the shadows, slicing three in half and coming to a dead stop in front of the last soldier. For a moment no one dared to breath. As the sword clicked back in it's sheathe, the last Grineer fell, cut neatly in two.

 

The Excalibur Prime stood, tall and imposing. He gestured for the prisoners to follow, before turning his head and talking to empty space. "Don't even think about it, Loki."

 

"Awww, how'd you know - I mean, do what?" Anya's eyes widened in amazement as the Loki decloaked, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

 

"You may be invisible, but you are not undetectable Initiate. Never forget that."

 

"You're such a killjoy." The Loki turned to the colonists. "Come on, we'll get you to safety"

 

 

 

 

Clang! The practice sword flew out of her hands as Anya crashed to the ground. She lay there panting, her body soaked with sweat.

 

"Get up." The voice of her teacher rang in her head.

 

"I... I can't... too tired."

 

"Not tired enough, if you still have the breath to speak. Get. Up."

 

Her hands and arms were numb from so many blows, her legs were jelly, unable to support her weight, and each breath was a struggle.

 

Slowly, she pushed herself to her knees, then rose to her feet, her eyes lit with a determination that would force steel to bend, if it were smart.

 

He nodded approvingly, before lashing out again.

 

 

 

Her deadly whirlwind stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The last target fell as she knelt, awaiting the judgement of the Lotus.

 

"Very impressive, Tenno." The Lotus spoke as three holographic Warframes appeared before her. "Choose your first Warframe, Initiate"

 

Anya smiled as she stood. Her choice had been made long ago, as she placed a hand on Excalibur.

 

 

 

Part of this is inspired by in game events. I slash dashed through a line of Grineer testing out my Excalibur Prime, coming to a stop right in front of the last one. For a moment I didn't think I got him, then he fell in half. Easily in my top 5 coolest game moments. :)

KF5AQX

I am Loki.

 

I am alone.

 

But I am not lonely. I walk a lonely path, full of darkness and death. I am a god of the battle field, but I am not evil. I defend my friends, trick my enemies. I fulfill my orders. I am Loki.

 

The anthem thundered in my head as the ship approached. The anthem of the Loki, the select few who were gifted with the ability to control the battle field, not through strength, but through cunning, trickery. Like the god of old, I stood alone, feared and hated by my own family, my own clan.

 

I would redeem myself for my failure, for my lack of attention. I would prove myself an asset, a help to the clan.

 

The fighter shuddered, clanked, then stilled. I was at the ship. The door opened, folding outward, then sliding inward, silent on it's servos. I dropped, twisted, landed in a deep crouch. It was dark, humid, a point of light visible in the distance. A service tunnel, doubtlessly to the reactor core.

 

I turned toward my ship, mentally sent the command to detach. There was a hiss as the vacuum of space roared inward, the air sucked from around me. I ignored it, and detached the bow on my back, sliding an arrow from the quiver smoothly. The head glowed dimly, filling the tunnel with white light. I knew it was filled with pure energy, capable of melting through the thickest armor in milliseconds.

 

The tunnel was long, but I traversed it quickly. It was not for nothing that I wore the frame of a racer, of a runner. There was a fan, spinning slowly, on standby mode. I carefully drew the dagger from my back, glowing with the red heat of the liquid fire contained inside, and inserted it into the edge of the fan. The fan blades hit it, and ground to a halt. I ducked forward, moving through the small gap in the blades, careful to not let the quiver knock against them and make a single sound. 

 

The room within was dark, the only light from the glow of the river of slag below. I knew it flowed to the smelter, where it was poured to great the thousands of Grakatas the Grineer army required. It was not my concern. I withdrew the dagger, noticing how similar the slots in the blade were to the river below. I shook myself. It was a lapse in attention that led to my dishonor. I would not repeat my mistake.

 

I sheathed it on my back, and continued. The stairs to the left were empty, so I descended them. I was here for one reason. I would not be shaken from my path. The walk way curved to the right, then blossomed around a pillar. I ignored the panel mounted on it, and continued on, curving to the left and approaching a door.

 

My helmet HUD sent out a pulse, detected several life forms beyond the door. I nodded. It was a foolish hope to be able to approach her completely undetected. I sent the mental command to my armor, and instantly vanished. I knew my energy systems would hold only for a limited time. The door opened, and I rushed past, barely seeing the five Grineer Lancers in front of me, focused on the one I knew was the largest threat.

 

My dagger leaped into my hand, as eager to redeem itself as I was. The woman in front of me was a monstrosity, standing nearly three feet above my own head on her robotic legs. The Gorgon cradled in her arms would tear my armor to shreds in seconds.

 

Unless I tore her own.

 

My jumped, my feet precisely placed, pounding the small of her back and knocking her forward. She suspected nothing, and pitched head first to the floor, the Gorgon, held loosely, clattering away. The blade in my hand bit deep, penetrating her armor like it was rice paper, and severing the life giving flow of blood in her neck. She convulsed under me, then stilled with barely a sound.

 

The Lancers stared. Here was their heaviest unit, their first line of offense, laying dead on the ground, felled with out a sign. They were stunned, scared. I knew they wouldn't remain that way. I left the dagger in the neck, rose to my feet, and drew back my right arm. The Glaive on my wrist moved, seemingly of it's on violation, spinning and clicking as the blades extended. I whipped my arm forward, released.

 

The blade pinwheeled, nearly in slow motion. Then it impacted, ripping the Lancer's head off and ricocheting to the walls, bouncing back and taking off the knees of the Grineer. The others now switched their gaze, still unable to comprehend what had happened. I reminded them.

 

The arrow slammed into the lead one's chest, penetrating his heart, and killing him instantly. His corpse fell backwards, slamming into the one behind him, knocking him to the floor. Another arrow followed, hissing into the one in the rear's head, and pinning it to the metal wall behind him. He slumped, held in place by the lethal instrument through his skull.

 

The last Lancer now realized what was happening, and wheeled, heading for the panel nearby, doubtlessly to raise the alarm. The quiver on my back whirred, crafting new arrows for me to fire, but it wouldn't finish in time. The dagger was my last chance. I reached for it, dropping the Paris in my hand, and grasped it, wrenching it loose. The Grineer was nearly at the panel.

 

My hand raised, marked the Grineer, and then the room flashed. I stood in front of the panel, the Grineer behind me tripping over the corpse of the gunner and falling, flailing, to the ground. He had not suspected the teleport, and suspected even less to suddenly be atop the corpse of his commander.

 

The dagger flashed, released from my hand at the peak of it's movement, sailing across the room. The Grineer staggered, clutched at the hilt protruding from his chest, then fell, laying across the first victim of my rampage.

 

I raised a hand, activated the magnetic generators on my wrists. The Glaive vibrated, then spun into my hand, the blades retracted. I reattached it to my chest, already striding toward the small pile of corpses where my dagger and bow lay. The Lex on my hip was heavy, but not needed now. I shunned the noise it caused, preferring the silence and shadows of my Paris.

 

The dagger was already burning a hole around itself, searing off the traces of blood and gore on it. The bow was undamaged, the ceramics and metal used in it's creation able to withstand enormous amounts of force and damage. The quiver on my back clicked once, then fell silent, it's bounty of death refilled.

 

The elevator ahead was my target. The room was clear, according to my HUD, and I knew I wouldn't have to engage in open combat again soon. Gunners were rare, usually deployed in high risk areas or cross roads, not in every room.

 

The next room was nearly empty, with only a single Marine in it, his Strun held lazily. I ignored him and continued on, feeling the micro fusion reactor in the small of my back already refilling my energy supply.

 

The next room was large, fully capable of holding several full squads. It was a drop off point for the ship's cargo train, on the floor below. The rails were where I needed to be. A single Lancer was below, doubtlessly half asleep like the rest of his brethren. I approached the railing, smiling beneath my helmet. His back was turned, and his head Grakata was pointed at the ground. My wrist drew back, the Glaive snapped into my palm, and his life was ended with a single throw.

 

I vaulted the railing, stepping over the corpse now on the platform. The rails led to the prisoner holding, where I needed to be. The cars were parked, unneeded in the dead of “Night,” on the ship. I dropped to the rails themselves, and checked the marker I had set myself. It pointed right. I sheathed my Glaive, then broke into a sprint, quickly traveling the distance to the pure darkness beyond.

 

My helmet compensated, brightening shadows, allowing me to see. The tunnel was long, and took me nearly five minutes to full traverse. The woman I came for would be unable to maintain the same pace. I would have to find a way...

 

I was at my destination. The rail way led into an empty room, the hub near the space port of the ship. I knew they kept the prisoners nearby, to allow them easy access to prison when they brought in more.

 

The room was not empty, with several Lancers and Marines patrolling it. Most of them were around the panels on either side, the main hubs of traffic in the ship, but one was on the platform it self. I mentally activated my armor again, felt myself fade from view, and approached him. He was bored, clearly half asleep. He suspected nothing. I leaped upward, drawing my dagger, and buried it in his neck, dragging him off the platform.

 

He lay on the rails, dead without a sound. I dragged him into the shadows under the car parked on the track. He would be hidden for now. Turning my attention to the map on my helmet, I found the prison very close, only a single door away. I vaulted the edging on the track, and started up the stairs. The nearest contact was nearly fifty feet away, and I didn't bother with concealing myself.

 

The door hissed open on the prison, and the sensors in my helmet instantly painted the cell I needed. It was on the floor below, facing the control room in the middle, where the jailer sit. She was a Scorpion, favored by the Grineer for prison duty. The machete on her back was a dangerous weapon, able to sever an arm easily, but also cause deep bruises.

 

She had her back to me, and I drew an arrow, nocked it silently, and centered it on her. The arrow flew true, pinning her head to the screen in front of her, and doubtlessly killing her. I dropped down, replaced the Paris on my back, and reached to my belt, where I removed the cipher I had brought with me. The machine would hack the door open far faster than I could.

 

The ports fit perfectly, and the door hissed open. A blur leaped at me, a fist already drawing back. I expected thus, and ducked, flipping the Banshee wearing Tenno over my shoulder. She twisted, landed on her feet, then stopped. Her alert stance drooped, and she simply nodded at me. I knew she didn't fully trust me, even now. It was, after all, my fault she was captured. If only I had been stronger, if only I hadn't faltered, if only I had been able to protect the pod for longer, instead of allowing the Lotus to recall me.

 

The Grineer had captured the pod, awoken her, and stuffed her in a cell, like an animal, to study later. She had been partially awake in the pod, aware I had failed in my duty, and doubtlessly thought me weak for it. I drew the Paris from my back, extending it towards her. I knew Banshees preferred the weapon.

 

She cocked her head, then took the bow, drawing it to test out it's strength as I unslung the quiver on my back. She accepted it, slinging it over her own shoulder. Her grip was easy, familiar. I had crafted the weapon from her pod, after I had awoken in the chasm below it. The climb upward had been difficult, to say the least.

 

She looked at me now with a new tilt to her head, and she nodded once. We turned to the stairs and climbed them, her in the lead, the bow prepared and ready. The door above hissed open, and revealed four Lancers. They must have discovered the missing patrol, and weren't as drowsy as they seemed. Two leaped forward, Graktas barking, as the others turned and sprinted for the alarm panel, already shouting an alarm to those below.

 

In seconds, a siren wailed throughout the entire galleon, and I knew we would have to fight. I focused, vanished from sight, and dug in, sprinting full out. The Banshee was already drawing the Paris as I hit the Grineer on the left. My dagger penetrated it's chest armor as the Glaive in my right hand removed it's head from it's shoulders. The arrow from the bow knocked the second one aside, and I sheathed my Glaive, drawing my Lex.

 

The Banshee jumped over me, already nocking another arrow with skill and speed I couldn't replicate. The bow jumped, and another Grineer fell. I vaulted the rail in front, and raised my pistol. The Lex sang it's lethal song, and another fell, a bloody mess where his face should be. A enormous boom shook the room as the Banshee focused the sound of the shot into a wave, knocking a dozen Lancers off their feet.

 

I signaled for my ship, even as my cloak ran out of energy, and sprinted for the hanger controls. A Napalm greeted me, it's lethal flame cannon firing. I dove to the side, rolling, feeling the heat of the blast flaring against my shields, penetrating, burning my leg. A direct hit would destroy me. I heard the blast again, and leaped forward, sliding on my chest, between the Napalm's legs.

 

I pushed myself up, the dagger flickering with a lethal heat enough to rival the Napalm's own, and lunged. The blade easily penetrated the armor of the Grineer, stabbing downward into it's shoulder and causing it to drop it's weapon. An arrow sprouted from its forehead, and it staggered back as I clung to it's back. The Lex in my right hand was pressed against it's temple. The lethal song sang once more, and the Grineer fell, it's head half blown off.

 

I leaped backward, skidding across the floor, my leg giving way, the Lex skittering away. The panel was nearby, and my ship awaited outside the hanger doors. I pushed myself up, waving the Banshee off as she ran to aid me. I slapped the panel, the computer in my armor hacking the system and opening the doors. The Banshee ran for it, then stopped just in front. I was wounded, my leg seared, barely able to support my weight. I would never make it to the ship in time.

 

I looked at the Banshee, saw the indecision in her stance. I raised a hand, pointed at her, then waved at the ship. I knew I was doomed. I broke the silence I had carried since I joined the Tenno, shouting out “Go! Save yourself!” She flinched at my voice. She knew a Tenno would never speak unless they knew it didn't matter who heard them. She slowly turned, as my ship swooped in, it's doors opening. She stepped inside, and I keyed the hard reset, passing the ship onto her. It flew out, heading into the darkness of space. Safe.

 

The Grineer swarmed around me. I could see Lancers, Marines, at least four gunners. Blades of machetes and cleavers flickered among the crowd. Flames on the tips of Scorch's barrels filled the crowd with light. I stood, ignoring the pain in my leg, and faced them, a god of the battle field no longer. As they closed in and I drew my dagger one last time, I knew.

 

My honor was restored. I am Loki, a god, no more.

 

 

End.

Hyashisan, FrostyCMC, Aigloblam

Hyashisan

Tenno, you are not alone in this mission. There is another aboard this ship, however I cannot locate their position. Find them and finish your mission.

 

The Mag simply nodded her acknowledgement as she peered around the corner. A Grineer trooper strolled along the corridor, mumbling into his comm about the status of this section. Any novice Tenno would've charged at the lone trooper immediately for the fast kill, but the Mag wasn't a novice. She could feel a faint push of more electromagnetic forces close by. Killing this enemy would've alerted the whole ship and the Mag didn't want that in her plate. Especially since she had to go rescue another Tenno on board. 

 

Her plan was simple. Knock them out before they can do anything. 

 

Her Glaive slowly spiraled out as the Mag took aim. With a quick breath, the Mag dashed into the corridor as she threw the glaive out to the trooper. She knew that her aim was true and that her glaive would hit two others, buying enough time to get into position admist the group and focused on the surrounding magnetic energy around her. She relished in the touch of steady energy from the grineers' armours. Within a second the pockets of energy floated in the air and in the next, the Mag began to condense the energy. A satisfying siphony of crushing armour rang in the corridor. 

 

The debrisfell to the floor as the fading magnetic energy left the armour. Luckily for the Mag no lights bathed the ship in red, but she couldn't take any chances with Grineer ships. They always liked to huddle in groups and never stayed in one room. Her only option was to keep moving and be quick. 

 

There wasn't enough time to figure out where the other Tenno was aboard this ship, so the Mag could only hope that they would cross paths towards the objective. She also hoped that it wasn't another happy triggered Tenno that she was partnered with. It'd only make their job that much harder. 

 

Then again, it has been awhile since the Mag's been able to taste so much magnetic energy crushing in her grasp. 

 

The energy around the Mag snapped as she sped her way to her objective. This mission, of capture, could only get more interesting and the Mag couldn't wait with what lies ahead. 

FrostyCMC

He had been cut off from the Lotus. He peeked out and snapped off three quick shots from his Dread felling three Grineer before napalm fire forced him back into cover. His fingers reached for an empty quiver. 'This is bad' Excalibur thought as he drew several Despair throwing knives. Without the Lotus he couldn't call for reinforcements. As it was, he had likely only survived this long because the enemy was intimidated by the growing pile of corpses around him.

 

Frost narrowed his eyes. The napalm heavies had changed tactics, from firing chaotically as fast as they could to shooting one at a time, keeping him behind cover. That could only mean the capture target was here giving orders. If he couldn't capture the target, perhaps he could at least change this to an assassinate mission so the enemy couldn't use the valuable intel either.

 

Frost listened carefully, pinpointed the targets voice, and ran out, Dashing to come to a stop right in front of a startled napalm gunner. The marine was cut down before he could cry out, but the rest of them were already forming a tight circle around their leader. 

 

For a rare moment, Frost hesitated.

 

He was surrounded, out of ammo, his target heavily guarded... 

 

He slowly knelt, placing his Skana on the ground. There were too few Tenno left for him to go out in a blaze of glory. If he surrendered, he might still be rescued. 'And if not,' He mused, as the terrified Grineer slowly advanced, hardly able to believe they had caught him alive. 'There's always the self destruct hidden in every warframe...' 

Hyashisan

The corridor blinked red as the ship went into alert. The Mag was startled for the alarm did not come from her doing. It only could be the other Tenno on board. Indecision struck for a brief moment as she contemplated on completing the mission first, but immediately crossed that out from her mind. She was taught to assist her comrades-in-arms no matter what. 

 

Decision made, she quickly sought out the whereabouts of the other Tenno. Pressing herself next to the entrance of the room, the Mag listened earnestly outside for any tell of where the grineer were heading off to. Luckily for her she felt a pulse of energy pass by her and silently finished him off with a quick burst of her Hikous. The Mag pulled the slack body into the room and tapped the comms-system in the armour. 

 

The comms were abuzz with the grineer's frantic commands. Nothing was understandable through the gibberish, but the Mag was able to notice that Frost was being thrown around a lot. This was no good. Frost is a very durable warframe and if he's surrounded then he must be outnumbered and/or out-gunned. Since the grineer had no sympathy towards the Tenno, it left the Mag a short amount of time to locate and aid the Frost.

 

Dropping the comms system, the Mag rushed out into the ship. She ran blindly as she sought out the Frost. Her energy cracked as adreneline pushed her forward. She could only rely on the sheer amount of electro-magnetic energy surging into one room. It was the best bet that they had cornered the Frost in there. Without another second thought she blitzed into the room and began to concentrate grasping as many magnetic energies around her. Within seconds there were only crushing sounds of armour. Through the falling bits of grineer, the Mag saw a glimpse of the kneeling Frost through a group of alerted grineer.

 

Grasping at the energy again, the Mag manipulated their energies to pull the lot towards her. The glaive blossomed swiftly as it sought out the throats of the fallen grineer. Making quick work of the group on her feet. The Mag relaxed her arm with the last breath stabbed from the grineer. A pink crackle of energy lingered around the arm that the glaive sank into. Surveying the area, the Mag slowly straightened up. The room was still bathed in red but a lack of grineer in it was apparent. Just how she liked things. It didn't pass her that a low energy field had escaped her wrath. That was probably the target the Lotus had instructed to be captured. She knew its distinct energy so the Mag wasn't worried in finding it again, confident in her ability. 

 

The Mag laid her eyes on the Frost and sighed with her hand on her hip, she beckoned her fellow Tenno with a mocking voice. 

 

"Stop chilling over there. Get up. We got a target to capture."

FrostyCMC

His name is Frost, but he actually uses an Excalibur Prime warframe. Sorry, should have made that clearer. : )

 

 

Frost was momentarily startled by the Mag's sudden appearance and even more so at how quickly she wiped out the Grineer. He quickly got over his shock as she approached.

 

"Stop chilling over there. Get up. We got a target to capture."

 

"Impressive" Was all he said as he lifted his sword and stood. He and the Mag stood side by side.

 

"... Race you."

 

She turned to him, and he knew she was grinning under her swirling visor.

 

"You're on."

 

The chase began. The hunter had become the hunted.

Aigloblam

"... Race you."

 

"You're on."

 

Saryn heard this over her barely functioning comm unit. She had been on her way to intercept the distress calls being broadcast by Frost's suit. She stopped in her tracks, No longer worried about Frost, Mag had that taken care of now.

 

Saryn walked boldly into the bowels of the ship, Daring any Grineer to become the next puddle of dissolving flesh on the floor, Like so many thousands have before. She strode through a set of double doors, to find a cluster of Grineer already aiming at her, 40 gun barrels all ready to fire.

With a small chuckle she dove straight at them, letting their bullets ping off of her shields, eating them away extremely quick, but not quick enough. She took a running leap directly into the center of the Grineer troop cluster, landing on one knee, her fists planted firmly on the ground. With a loud bellow, she contracted all the muscles of her upper body, causing her Warframe to open its compartments. A harsh hiss fills the air, as highly pressurized acidic mist blasted from her frame, the Grineer instantly went from living creatures, barking orders at other Grineer, to writhing bodies, quickly losing their flesh as Saryn's vicious payload turned them into whimpering jelly.

 

Since she hadn't turned back very far, she was a great distance ahead of the other two. She made her way into the empty room that served this ship as a prison. As she hacked the console and came through the door, the Corpus crewman, sans helmet, did the bravest and stupidest thing Saryn had seen in many years. He hit her in the face with a Chair.

Before the mutilated chunk of thin metal hit the ground, Saryn already had her hand wrapped around the Crewman's neck, residue from her poison eating very very slowly into his skin.

She locked eyes with the doomed man, and whispered into his ear, almost like the tone of a passionate lover "If the lotus didn't need you, I would do things to you that would make an Infected vomit." She then dropped him to the floor from her impressive height, hearing the crewman's wrists snap as he tried to catch himself. She leaned down and whispered one more time "Remember that" and started the digitizing Process. It took less than 10 seconds to teleport the crewman back to their ship, where he would await them in stasis.

 

12 Minutes later, Saryn was at the extraction. She was sitting high on a shelf, dangling one leg off the edge and tossing her a Zoren axe up in the air, only to catch it on the way down.

She didnt even glance over when the door opened for her fellow Tenno.

 

Hyashisan

"...Race you."

 

The Excalibur dash away with a gleeful step that hadn't been there moments before. 

 

"You're on," smirked the lighter Tenno as she sped alongside with her rescued comrade. She tuned into the distinct energy source as it wound its way into the labyrinth of the ship. It stopped moving as it hulled itself away in a discrete location, which unfortunately for him wasn't so much against the Mag. Grinning she glanced at Tenno next to her motioned for her to lead the way.

 

"This way his energy stopp-" the Mag slowed down as the source of the energy slowly dissipated from her range. "What the-"

 

Good job Tenno. Get to extraction. The target has been acquired and will be interrogated.

 

Looking over to the Excalibur, Mag could tell he was confused as she was. When the Lotus said the Mag wasn't alone, she meant that there more than just Excalibur and herself. Intrigued with another mystery comrade, the Mag tuned into the coordinates for the extraction point led to. 

 

"Let's move."

 

She led the route to the extraction with a swift pace, only stopping to eliminate stray grineer in their way. Her glaive came back from finishing three grineer as the Mag rounded the corner into the extraction room to see a waiting Saryn playing catch with her Zoren axe. She relaxed a bit from seeing the extraction point, but she bristled at the aloof manner this other Tenno held herself. 

 

If there were anything that the Mag despised more than grineer, it's Tenno who only care for themselves and completing the mission. Even if it led to their cell deteriorating because they left them to deal with the brunt of the mob just to complete the mission. She knew way too many close comrades fall from Tenno such as this Saryn.

 

That is, if she is as she seems. The Mag rarely ignores her gut, but will give this Saryn the benefit of the doubt for now. It is best to gain more allies among the Tenno then enemies. As long as her cell lives and the mission is complete, the Mag will not complain.

 

At the moment though, this Saryn is in the list of annoying B*tches on the Mag's list. Head held high she merely walked past the Saryn to get into the escape pod. She needs to be over with this mission now. 

 

Aigloblam

The Lotus sat quietly, going through thousands of recordings in her helmet's video feed, each more distressing than the last. She had viewed millions of these in the past, scanning each to not only train her Tenno better, but also to build up the larger picture, What the rest of the galaxy is doing, and how her Tenno fit in to this giant puzzle. For the last 790 years she had seen countless bloody battles, stealthy raids, and even very rarely, a Tenno death.  These things were all a part of the natural order. No matter how much training, no matter how many years in the field, Losses were inevitable. But lately, in the past year or so, Her reports were looking anything but normal. She stopped playback to look over the latest report from her most valued Tenno field agents.

 

1. 2 Dead Loki, 1 Dead Rhino, 3 Dead Ash, and almost a dozen Tenno in healing pods, staying out of action for what could be months, if not a year.

2. 3 Severely damaged Frost units. One taking almost 6 hours to pull all the Infested flesh out of the cracks, bends, fissures, and natrual crannies of the imposing suit.

4. An Excalibur came back with both of his arms ripped from his body. Alive, but comatose.

5. A Banshee reporting the self sacrifice of a particularly plucky Loki unit. At least he died with Honor.

6. One particularly beastly Rhino came back needing serious psychiatric help. His mission had apparently been a trap. He fought through an entire battalion of Grineer Bombards to get to Evac. Initially reports indicated he was sleeping soundly, but the moment he awoke he became a vicious raging behemoth in the MedBay, Requiring delivery of heavy tranquilizers. Current Status: Unknown.

 

Most disturbing of these is a Report from a Banshee, Hunter Class III, One of the most feared Tenno to ever exist. "Kalenath" Told very calmly of watching a Vauban and a Nova be Torn limb from limb by a strange Tenno like being. Kalenath had never shown emotion in 172 years of Tenno service, But the lotus saw the paling complexion and heard the quickened breathing as the deadly Banshee explained how this figure, seemingly made of bleeding smoke, appeared suddenly, and in a matter of seconds turned the Nova, then the Vauban, into sparking bits of Warframe and Tenno parts on the floor. This filled the Lotus with a deep cold dread. Nova and Vauban are two of the best Frame designs at her disposal, and the Tenno inside them were seasoned veterans of combat.  If something out there had been capable of such an act, What more could it do?

 

Shaking her head and regaining her regal composure, the Lotus sent out a Warning alert to all Tenno within range of the home Dojo, telling of this dark figure and its potential for death and destruction. She only hoped it wasn't too late.

 

Humbleion

Again this completely depends on my origin for the stalker

https://forums.warfr...er/#entry919568

 

 

The Return of Nightmares

Act 1 Requimem for a dream

Chapter 1 Remnants of the past

 

                As the transport reached its destination, the Lotus's briefing replayed in the Ash's head

"Tenno, We have lost communications with a small dojo in the outer rim. I need you to investigate."

 

                Lost coms. from a dojo, pfft. The Ash thought, isn't that a job for a Loki's recon, so why send an assassin.

He stepped out of the docking transport and immediately he sensed something amiss. Everything was offline, even the emergency lighting, the only meager streams of light emanating  from the distant sun protruding from the windows. He'd seen this before.

                Infested? He thought, no it's to silent for infested and as unorganized as they are this far out they'd never attack a dojo. This is different. That only leaves... Sentients but they have been disbanded for hundreds of years.

"Stalkers"

                As if the very word called the devil from his pits of hell, a terrified piercing  scream echoed about the empty halls.

                Knowing the challenge ahead, He began to whisper a small pray handed down for thousands of years.

"Lord of all, grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift, and if the worst should come to pass, grant me forgiveness."

He then reached to a series of knives at his hips, untouched for long before his great sleep.

"This is your despair Tenno" The dry crackling voice ringing through his head, burning at his ears and cutting deep in the scars once inflicted by the cursed weapons, "They will be the last thing you ever feel in this world."

                Memories from his past flowing back, flashes of being the sentients captive once lying dormant from his cryo sleep now coming to life once again; re inflicting the wounds long since heeled, pain rupturing from every last scar, crumpling the Tenno to his knees opening his visor just in time to cough up a small puddle of crimson pain.

                His pain slowly fleeting, he took a glance at his reflect in the window. The dim light only revealing the deepest of scars on his young face, but the screech of metal on metal caught his attention. He quickly wheeled around closing his visor and peering into the depths of the dark hall echoing the sound.

                A young Nova emerged from the darkness, weary and stumbling, drenched in her own blood.

"Kill me," her week voice stuttered through the com link, "before it turns," "NOW" she barked "PLEASE"

Before he could react defiled flesh spewed forth from her helmet, distorting and mangling her anatomy, the vile cretin leaped forth with unimaginable speed, parrying with one of the knives at his waist the Ash quickly recovered and land a knife dead center of the Nova's head dropping her to the ground like a ragdoll with a grotesque thud.

"VENGANCE," a harsh booming voice rippling through his head called out",I will have MY, VENGANCE"

                The pain full familiarity of the voiced seared at the back of his mind, but before he could recollect the long forgotten torment a fog, black as the void, blanketed the now blood soaked floor. A figure then coalesced in the darkness. The ebon clad beast moved into the light revealing the horrid stumps of meat at his shoulders, or what was left of them anyway. An energy glowing red with furry arched across the markings lining the looming figure. Then it flowed out into the fog causing it to coagulate into brutal bladed appendages while quickly jutting out a cryptic primal scythe.

                "This, Tenno," His voice boomed out" Is the embodiment OF MY HATRED,  it will be the tool of my vengeance and your demise"

                Without warning the Stalker slashed out with brutal speed ripping the scythe through the air just as an Excalibur would, Thinking quickly the Ash teleported behind the behemoth as his glaive sprang to life but only grazing before the stalker emulated the evasion and was behind the Ash.

                "Have you forgotten my power Humbleion," The Ash spun around in disbelief that this creature this un godly being knew his name, "Then you will be no match."

                The stalker exploding in a fury of blows and smoke, left only one option, Humbleion ejected the blades from his arms and matched the stalker blow for blow. The war of smoke and clashing blades erupted through the halls until the stalker simply vanished.

"My vengeance will come Tenno, until then be wary and fear the infected."

 

The halls now coming alive with movement and blast of guttural noises as a flood of corrupted flesh, with only remnants of the Tenno they once were, trampled and leaped on top of  each other to unite their former ally with the hive mind that is the infested.

 

IndigoChild25

 

My brother wrote this small portrayal of Rhino a few weeks ago so i thought i would share it with you all as i enjoyed it. Its not so much a short story but rather how my brother feels when playing Rhino. Hope you all like. 

 

                                                                                                 For I am Rhino

 

 

The slow mechanical grinding of the gears is soothing to me, after spending so long in cryogenic sleep, an act as simple of movement is a blessing. However the gears, aside from serenading me, have a purpose, they currently carry me up forty-two floors of this space station that will soon become a tomb, as that is my mission. A mission given to me by a voice, the voice that calls itselt Lotus. I do not know of this Lotus but it was her voice that I heard as I was awoken from my slumber and every fibre of my being is inclined to follow her words, exactly.



The elevator is quickly closing in on the top floor, I can hear the voices of the Grineer commando’s, they think they have a chance. They think they can stop me...ME! The red mist is descending, I can feel its familiar presence, it is clouding my vision , turning the visor of my exoskeleton suit into a murky sea of scarlet. It is enveloping me and I embrace it totally, I give myself to it for I know it fuels my great strength, the strength that is unmatched among my Tenno brothers and sisters.



My right knuckle is the colour of blistering white hot coals, I didn’t realise it was clenched so tightly around my weapon, eager in anticipation. Fragor, my mighty hammer, its destructive force is a thing of beauty, a symphony of mayhem that I alone can conduct for only I have the enormous strength needed to tame such a mighty beast and make it sing to my melody. And what a beatufiul voice it has. I have been issued with a rifle and a side-arm from the extensive armoury of exotic weapons from the Tenno, but I will not use them. The mechanical nature of these....these apparatus is not something that can be enjoyed, they are destructive but not in a way that can be savoured.



The voices are becoming clearer, ‘Get Ready’, ‘Focus all of your fire’, these are the shouts I can hear from the enemy commander. He sounds confident, good, it makes it more enjoyable. Focus Fire, the thought is laughable and pathetic. Their bullets will crash helplessly off of my Iron skin. My Roar will make them flee in fear. Their bodies will break under the incredible strength and ferocity of my charge and become nothing more than dust as I trample them with my stomp. And none shall stand in my way.



For I AM RHINO!!!

 

After this, clan Aequitas starts to take form slowly. The stories in this post will start to jump forward through the thread a lot, as these are going to be the non-Aequitas related ones. There's enough of those for it to make sense to keep them separate.

 

Drakeardian

A cold winter blew across the earthly mountains.

The wind and snow blowing in tune with one another

The camouflaged Excalibur watching though the scope of a custom made Snipertron.

 

Drake watched though his Snipertron’s scope as he observed a Grineer outpost, snickering a bit as one Grineer jumps back from the ledge and squeals all high pitched, his fellow Grineer laughing at him also, a place of false security and comfort for them.  They had been watching the outpost for a week now, waiting for the Lotus’s orders. Annie, the newest recruit came out from the cave they had been keeping cover in over on the far mountain and crouched down next to her Sensei, picking up a small scope and looking at the outpost, Drake heard a sigh of boredom from his private communicator. “Bored” Annie said, and rested next to him on a makeshift bed “Bored, bored, bored Bored…”

 

Drake shook his head and looks to the Mag “What’s the matter?” Annie turned to the Excalibur with the Snipertron and says “I’m bored! What do you think?!” replying with a frustrated tone as Drake looked back to his Scope, Drake recalling his sniper training, Wind speed at 75 knots, target at about 250 meters away, the scope covered in some white cloth to prevent the sun hitting the scope.

 

“Talk to King then”

“That Vauban just keeps telling war stories!” “

“They’re important war stories”

“They’re boring war stories!”

 

Drake looks to Annie for a moment then looks back to his scope, frowning as a Grineer transport vessel landed on the Launchpad, a heavily cybernetic looking Grineer being escorted by 4 Grineer Machine-gunners, their Gorgons painted gold and black. Drake looked up from his scope again then looks down it again “Who’s that? Can’t be Vor, haven’t seen a Grineer with thighs that thin since Rhino went on that Diet.” Annie looked at Drake for a moment with a blink then looks down the scope “Maybe a rising star in the Grineer Empire?” Drake lowers his rifle “Possibly, but I'm not liking this. Get word to Lotus, I’ll send Pictures” Annie nods and slowly but quickly goes back to the cave while Drake watched the platform, The Cybernetic Grineer barking orders to the grunts and the base commander. Then the Cyber-Grineer then shot the base commander with what appears to be a custom made Kraken, the loud crack of the shot shocked the base to the point where even Drake jumped. “That bastard” Drake exclaimed quietly as he looks up from his scope at the base.

 

Four hours had passed and it was starting to get dark. “At least 10 PM earth time roughly” Drake thought. King, the teams Vauban came out from the cave, taking a crouched position and rested on the rock wall, taking the scope on the area and looks to the platform “Any sign of the unknown target?” Drake looked to king and shakes his head “Nothing of yet, any word from Lotus?”

 

“She’s on the line, patching though now” King replied to Drake, tapping on a holo-screen on his hand and Lotus appears on Drake’s HUD “Tenno Drake, you and your team are to pull back as soon as possible, and we are sending extraction shuttles for you at the following Co-ordinates. Another team shall be sent to locate and investigate the area and deal with the target” Drake nodded, the cold was starting to remind him of the Cryopods “Understood, we shall leave at once” “Good luck Tenno” Lotus commented and disconnected. Drake nods to King “Get Annie and Bolt Awake. We’re leaving right now”

Edited December 5, 2013 by Piranah1

[Piranah1]

Still non-Aequitas

Algatress

Would have been even more hilarious if there was a Pysch evaluation for people in the Tenno. In actual fact I'll do it.

(This is just a remake of an article I posted on The SCP Foundation website, remade to incorporate the Tenno universe)


Routine Psychological Evaluations By Dr C█████

Dr. C█████: Alright, let's get this started. Vauban - ███ -

Vauban - ███: [subject hands Dr. C█████ a ukelele]

Dr. C█████: … Very well. Dr. [With some difficulty strums an A major chord] let us begin this interview. If you could please remove those cinnamon rolls from-

Vauban - ███: Twists.

Dr. C█████: Pardon?

Vauban - ███: These are cinnamon twists, not rolls. Do you want one?

Dr. C█████: Oh. Do you have any not in your nose?

Vauban - ███: No.

Dr. C█████: Well then, no thank you. Let's take a look at - oh lord, who let him bring a shotgun in here?

----

Volt - ███: Alright, so then, he stumbles on some entrails, and I manage to catch to him.

Dr. C█████: Ahuh..

Volt - ███: So I shoot his @(*()$ face off, bam, just like that. Brains everywhere, oh man it was great.

Dr. C█████: That's your -favorite- memory of working for the Lotus?

Loki - ███: They just don't trust me! Like I actually want to take over the world!

---



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


Dr. C█████: And how did that make you feel?

Banshee - ███: Like killing him! I mean, there I was, all ready and willing for sex, and he buys a video game? It was just so, so-

Dr. C█████: Banshee - ███, please put that lamp down. Banshee - ███… Security, Security to exam room A!


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


Rhino - ███: …

Dr. C█████: This isn't that hard, just tell me what you see, anything at all.

Rhino - ███ …I see a symmetrical inkblot, comprised of what appears to be Black #4 ink. The paper is folded in the middle, leading to the conclusion that it is a Rorschach, or "ink blot", test.

Dr. C█████: …Ok…but do you see any shapes? Like a butterfly, or a ocean, people, anything at all?

Rhino - ███: No.

Dr. C█████: Are you sure? It looked like you might have saw something there for a second…

Rhino - ███: No. I see a collection of black, abstract shapes.

Dr. C█████: …Okay…we can try something else now…just…stop staring at me like that…


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


Dr. C█████: …

Vauban - ███: …

Dr. C█████: So… what shall we talk…

Vauban - ███: I've been kind of thinking about killing everyone in the base.

Dr. C█████: … what?

Vauban - ███: Nothing.

Dr. C█████: I thought you said you were thinking about killing everyone in the base.

Vauban - ███: Are you kidding me? I never said that. Why would I say I sometimes think I'm going to wake up one morning, take my straight razor out of its jar of blue disinfectant, cut my assistant's throat, and then run through the halls of the base naked slashing anyone who gets in my way?

Dr. C█████: You… you just said it again!

Vauban - ███: Said what? Are you feeling all right, Dr. C█████? You look pale.

Dr. C█████: You just threatened to brutally murder myself and everyone in the base!?

Vauban - ███: No I didn't.

Dr. C█████: Yes you did! I'll play it back, listen!

<Sound of a tape recorder being played back>

Vauban - ███: Really? All I hear is me telling you about waking up in the morning and shaving.

Dr. C█████: WHAT? Listen! You just said…

Vauban - ███: You know, Dr. C█████, auditory hallucinations are often caused by overwork and stress. Maybe you should take a break for a while.

Dr. C█████: …███, you're not getting out of this interview. You're merely trying to scare me into ending this interview early with inane threats of violence, and I must warn you that such cavalier tactics are clearly transparent, now if …

Vauban - ███: Why would I do that? That's as ridiculous as claiming that I've prepared a sopoforic-laced gum to give to you under the guise of a friendly offer of refreshments, thus knocking you out so that I can dispatch you at my leisure and throw your body into the incinerator, destroying all evidence, meaning that it will never be traceable back to me.

Dr. C█████: …

Vauban - ███: You don't look well, Dr. C█████. Maybe you should lie down and close your eyes for a bit.

Dr. C█████: … Alright, you can go ..

Vauban - ███: Piece of gum?


---------


Dr. C█████: …

Rhino - ███: …

Dr. C█████: A butterfly?

Rhino - ███: No.

Dr. C█████: Octopus?

Rhino - ███: No.

Dr. C█████: A horrible face-melting explosion?

Rhino - ███: …No.

Dr. C█████: Fluffy puppies?

Rhino - ███: No.

Dr. C█████: You're telling me you don't see the happy little puppy right here? look, at the bottom of the paper…

Rhino - ███: I see a abstract blot of black ink…and your finger.

Dr. C█████: …how can you be so cooperative and so frustrating at the same time…


---------



Volt - ███: All right, so that’s when I noticed that the bloodstains led to the janitor’s closet. Sneaky #@*&$@ tried to hide out behind the brooms and mops while he bled out!

Dr. C█████: Are you…seriously claiming that you engaged in a gunfight with several lotus personnel over a failure to replace the filter in the coffee machine.

Volt - ███: Well you might not see it as a big-

Dr. C█████: A coffee machine in a break room that you no longer use?

Volt - ███: The issue here is the principle of the thing, C█████. No filter means no coffee, no coffee means tired fighters, tired fighters means mistakes, costly mistakes end up as red numbers in my paperwork pile. See where I’m going with this?

Dr. C█████: [pause] Volt - ███, I’d appreciate it if you would stop polishing your sword during the evaluation.

Volt - ███: Bothering you, doc?

Dr. C█████: [sigh]

Volt - ███: You don’t mind if I smoke, right?

Bozza

Slightly off topic, but meh.

Advenchurs of a Lansur Lancer.

'So... Tell me, what happened... From the beginning.'

Welll.. I was heer. Mindin my bizness outside the cell, wHen the call goes out.

'Intruder detected. System on high alert.'

I says to myself, i says, 'You no what! I could perberbly probly pessibly... I culd take on that ther inTruder on my own!'

'And then what did you do?'

Well i runs off to wehre the alarm was set off like. An all that is ther is dead bodees.

I'm like 'ooooh.. That is bAd like.'

N then this THING. this wurframe. It pops out of nower and drops a bullt Bulet... shot in my head.

Den I drop out oF conshuss cunsuss awakeness, finkin 'Thats the end of me!'

'And this "Wurframe", tell me, what was it like?'

Urrmmm... It was..uhh.. it wus all dark..and stuff.

'And stuff... Indeed.. Was there... Anything else you remember?'

Ooh! Ooh! yeah! I amember nao! it had a helmet on! it looked kind of like a duck!

'A duck?'

Yeah, you no! a duck, lays eggs and stuff! got that weerd little Moheekern thingy!

'A chicken you mean..'

Nope. nope. Definatley a duck.

'Very well then... A .. Duck. Please, continue.'

Seems like the waRfram had same ideel as me. Finking i was ded and stuff. Cos i wakes up, an i haves a spiltting hedake. LuCkee i was wering my helmet! Helf an safety, gotta keep all dem rules right! If i werent wering my helmets i wuld be ded like them Others in that room.

'Yes. And why do you think you are here?'

Urrrr.... It mite be a loong shot, but culd it be a Pay Rise?

Um. Wait wait no! I know! Its about That Jim stealing the coffee machines again.. I swear, i didnt help him. Even tho he offered me half them tasty tasty brews!... Uh.. I mean, i don't know how they taste at all!

'No. This is about that prisoner you were supposed to be guarding the whole time.'

Oh. Urrrmmmm... Wel... He done eskapeed dint he.

'And why would that be?'

Uhhh....Urrrmmmm....Is it because that duck came and got he out?

'Yes. And why was it so easy for this 'duck' to 'get he out'?

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm........ Because nowun was on guard?

'And why was there no one on guard?'

Urrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmm.....

'Take him away. Dispose of him. We have no use for defective clones.'

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

So. This is my first attempt at any sort of thing (writing). I actually found it really hard to misspell all the words.

SoulSwipe

Nihlis used to be the Tenno of light. His Warframe, white as the Heaven, would strike fear into his enemies' hearts.

It was a disturbing call. A new Grineer ship has been manufactured-one that was capable of unspeakable things. It had to be eliminated.
Nihlis silently cut his way through the Grineer patrols. Knowing that he would rendezvous with the rest of his cell at the reactor core, he hurried not to be late. Using his prowess, he cloaked entire corridors in shadows to take out every soldier within seconds. 'Too easy', he thought.

Minutes later he arrived in the reactor room. He stayed behind a wall, seeing the Grineer soldiers guarding the core. One of them was hastily walking to a terminal-probably to sound the alarm. 'This is bad. Really bad.', he thought. 'I can't just walk in there and kill everything...there's just too many...but if they sound the alarm, we'll have a whole ship on our necks. What to do...'
Then suddenly. the soldier at the terminal collapsed before he could even touch the console. Nihlis' skills with his bow, the Paris Prime were unmatched. This is the only thing that belonged to his ancestors-his father's bow. He loved it more than anything else.
He looked around. In merely five seconds, every gun in the room was pointed at him. '10...20...30...56 soldiers. That's it? That's all you got, Grineer scum? Then here, let me give you a taste of my hook!' he said, while dashing forward and leaving behind nothing but bloody heaps and metal in his wake. His Reaper Prime was precise and deadly; nobodies armor was thick enough to deflect his blows.

In seconds, the room was empty, and Nihlis dropped his blade. He looked at his chest; it seems a soldier managed to shoot him with a Strun. He was bleeding. 'Well, this is one of the few times I need a medkit' he thought. He looked around searching for a healing kit in the room; there had to be one nearby! There! An operation chamber. He somehow managed to walk into the room, leaving a trail of blood. He was feeling dizzy. 'Just a few seconds and I'll lose consciousness...can't let it happen!' He quickly put a bandage around his wound, then absorbed a healing orb from the locker. 'Much better.' He was still a bit dizzy, and his field of view was limited. He couldn't get out on his own. 'Where the hell are you guys?!' he thought. His cell was supposed to meet five minutes ago!

He walked back into the chamber he came from. And there they were: his trusted comrades, looking back at him and smiling behind their Warframes.
'Took you guys long enough.' he said.
'Sorry Nihlis, the patrols were a bit thicker than we calculated.' Excalibur replied.
'Whatever, let's just get this over with, and head back home. I...can't make it out without you guys.'
Excalibur, Ash and Rhino nodded simultaneously. They raised the core and destroyed it with concentrated firepower. When the last energy tank shattered into pieces, the lights suddenly fell out. The ship was powerless. Their mission was completed.
'Well done, Tenno.'
The Lotus. Their silent guardian and guide through these dark times. They all heard her in their heads. They all knew what to do.
With Nihlis as their guiding light, they dashed and slashed through the uncountable corridors of the ship, to their extraction point.

After ten minutes of bloody horror, they finally arrived.
'But...wait...this isn't right.' he said. 'Why has the Lotus sent only three escape shuttles?'
'I...I don't know either...what's going on?' Rhino said.

'One more thing, Excalibur...eliminate Nihlis.'
'Wait...you can't be serious, Lotus. Why...? He hasn't done anything...!' Excalibur thought.
'His mind became corrupted. His heart strives for revenge for his parents. This revenge blinds him and makes him a threat to our further operations. End him.'
'I won't kill my trusted comrade, Lotus. Not even for you!' Excalibur replied loudly.
Everyone looked up at him. Only Nihlis didn't know what was going on. 'What...why would you...? I don't understand...!' 'What the hell is going on...what is this?!' Nihlis thought.
They heard footsteps in the corridors; Excalibur's shout led the Grineer to their extraction point.

'THAT'S AN ORDER, HAYDEN!' the Lotus shouted. Excalibur's head was echoing her voice. Did she really just call him by his real name...?!
'I told you not to call me like that! I refuse to kill him!'
'As you wish...then we'll have to do this the hard way.'
Suddenly, he could feel the Lotus took control of Excalibur's Warframe. He had no more control over his actions.
'NIHLIS! WATCH OUT!' he shouted. But it was too late. His Skana was pointing out of Nihlis' chest, and his comrade was at the brink of death.
Nihlis' helm fell off his head; the only sign of a defeated Tenno. The footsteps became louder and they could hear Grineer commanders control their soldiers.
Nihlis looked at his comrade one last time, with a face full of questions and anger. Excalibur was crying behind his mask.
'I...I'm sorry...I...I didn't want this...forgive me, please!'
Excalibur looked into Nihlis' eyes. Once beautiful and blue, his eyes slowly turned red. His white hair, once blinding and graceful, was black as the night. His friend gave into his anger.
The Lotus, still in control of Excalibur, Ash and Rhino, moved the three into their escape pods and launched them into the deep space. To their home.

They saw Nihlis collapse while he was screaming the words "I'll kill you all!" at them.
How could this happen? Why them, why now? As if there were that many Tenno left!
'Lotus...I will not forget this. I will not forgive you for what you have done.'
'You sure are a troublesome one. Then I'll force you to forget. All of you. This mission never happened.'

The Lotus erased their memories of the past two hours, and all their memories about Nihlis. As if the mission and their comrade never existed.

*meanwhile in the Grineer ship, the Manticore*

The Grineer found him. His Warframe was lying in pieces next to him. His weapons were shattered into pieces. He was bleeding and wounded severely, and almost dead. And yet...there was a flame in his eyes. A strong will that didn't let him die. A part of him dedicated to revenge.
The Grineer soldiers brought his body and Warframe to Earth, alongside with the remains of his weapons. The Sisters offered him a chance to get his revenge.

'You'll be guarding our higher positioned captains and generals.'
'Rather said, avenging them. Once those Tenno scum show up and murder one of them, you get on their trail and kill them.'
'In return, we will provide you with what is our best weaponry and materials to create your own.'

'So you are the Sisters, huh...You look even uglier than I thought.' Nihlis said.

'Insolent brat! I'll show you...'
'That's enough, Marda. Calm down. This anger...this arrogance...this will be his weapon. This is our perfect hitman. Don't you see?'
'On the second thought...maybe...yes...he could be our man. What is your answer, Tenno?'
'Don't you f*cking call me a Tenno again, you ugly Grineer piece of sh*t! I'm not one of them anymore...I don't want to be...'
'What. Is. Your. Answer.'
'Tell us.'
'You give me the things I ask for, and you stay the f*ck out of my business. You stick your noses in my stuff, I f*cking kill you. Got that?'
'Excellent...'
'You are hired. From now on, you shall be known as the Stalker.'
'Now go. Bring death upon our enemies.'
'Where's the f*cking smith on this deserted sh*thole you call your home...?'

KF5AQX

"The ship was dark, unnaturally so. I awoke slowly, painfully, every nerve a bundle of fire and agony. Amazingly, I couldn't feel anything broken, despite the brutal beating and experimentation of the last two hours. Though that could just mean I was too far gone to notice...

It had been a long two weeks, trapped alone in a cell. The Grineer I had helped the Banshee escape from had been... Displease, to say the least. I thought I was dead. I was mistaken. They beat me to within an inch of my life, then decided to replace the test subject they had lost. I was stripped of my Warframe, thrown in a cell, and ignored except for the hourly beating. They had taken my weapons, or I would have attempted to kill myself. As it was, I had nearly bled to death slicing my wrists open on the bunk. They had restrained me after that.

A creak snapped me back to reality, and I slowly looked up at the cell door, expecting it to open. It didn't. But I noticed something... Strange about it. The lights on it... They were out. Confused, I glanced at the camera I knew was in the upper corner of the room. Normally a small, barely visible glow was around it's lens, showing it was powered on and recording. It was gone.


I was truly concerned now. The only reason both lights would be out was if the power was. And if the power was out to the prison of a Grineer ship, usually the only system with a dedicated back up generator... Something had happened.

I glanced at my wrists. So used to being unable to move, I hadn't tried. But the restraints, normally held around my wrists and tightly to the bed frame by magnetic forces, were now merely half open bracelets. I sat up, shaking my wrists to free the restraints, then turned sideways and stood up next to the bed. My head spun, my body was on fire with pain. Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward, angling for the door. I slumped against it and attempted to regain control. The spinning was receding, allowing me to focus on the pain and force it down, a technique I learned centuries ago.

The door had a rough surface, covered with rough plate metal. I gripped the edges and pulled. Slowly, with a sound like a dying beast, the door slide open. I pulled it wide enough to fit in the opening side ways, then pushed, using my back for leverage. It opened fully, and I stepped onto the floor of the prison cell. It was pitch black, the only light coming from a small fire flickering above, from the consoles. I stopped for a moment to stretch, something I hadn't been able to do while in the low ceiling cell, then started for the stairs nearby. As I walked, the light headedness vanished, leaving me clear and focused, ready for escape.

I climbed the stairs easily, the pain receding to a dull ache, easily ignored. The platform in the middle of the room was a scene from a horror film. A sprawled corpse, with a destroyed, mutilated chest, was splayed across the floor. I strode forward, gazing at it. It was the Scorpion jailer who had taken such pleasure in striking me down. She had claimed my handgun as a trophy, and it still hung from her hip. I reclaimed it, feeling the comforting weight and power it contained. The ammunition for it was kept in the locked box near her desk, normally a problem. Except she kept it loaded while carried.

I raised the Lex, and blew the entire front of the lock out. The ammo inside was neatly kept, stolen from my waist and not used. A full 15 clips, plus several dozen loose rounds, and the magnetic carrier I had used to hold them. Without the armor, they were useless to me, at least on the belt. I picked them up and, using strips of the tattered shirt I wore, loosely attached them to the waistband on the pants I wore. The Lex went in the hip pocket, and I felt far more prepared for what ever was out there. Turning back to the Scorpion, I kicked her lightly, rolling her over onto her face, and examined the machete mounted on her back.

It fit into a rough, basic sheath, consisting mostly of two parallel strips of low quality steel mounted on, of all things, a wooden backboard. Where did she even find wood anymore? Looking closely, I could see it was dark, clearly very old. Probably a family heirloom, possibly taken from a colonist on one of the cities she had doubtlessly helped raze. It mattered little to me. All I cared for was the blade, and the straps. She had forgone the rough, narrow strips of surplus fabric normally used, in favor of a heavy linen strap, wide and padded.

I grabbed her shoulders and hefted her up, sliding the strap off, and allowed the corpse to slump again. Ignoring the dried blood on the strap, I slung it over my own shoulder, settling it into place. Armed thus, I felt quite ready for whatever would come. I examined the rest of the room, found nothing, and started for the door I knew led to the ship bay. With luck, there would be a Grineer fighter there.

The door started to glow before I reached it. Cursing under my breathe, I ran for the nearest wall, knowing what it meant. I slammed into the wall, fumbling for the Lex. Only one thing could make the steel used in Grineer doors to glow like that. A Corpus laser. The door blew inward, slinging molten slag and pieces of steel everywhere. I flinched back, my ears ringing. I heard metallic foot steps, and motors whining. A MOA. I inched closer to the corner of the wall, seeing light pour in. Clearly they had killed the power, only activating it in each room they passed through.

I spun around the corner, already raising the Lex and aiming down the sights, something I hadn't done for ages, as Warframes had intgeral weapon sensors. A MOA stood in front of me, it's own beam cannon already swiveling towards me. I pulled the trigger. The Lex bucked, the center of the MOA's body imploded, and it crumpled backward. The Corpus crewmen behind it jerked around, shouting in their strangely robotic voice. I quickly switched targets, blowing a Corpus' arm off, then dived behind the wall as a small sphere rolled next to me.

One of the crewmen had been smart, and instead of trying to unsling his Dera, had simple hurled a grenade at me. I rolled, pushed up with my hands, and came up in full sprint, heading directly away from the weapon. Even out of my frame, I was still one of the fastest Tenno in my clan, and I leaped the railing in front of me, tensing my legs to roll again on impact with the ground. The grenade went off, flooding the room in heat and light, and I slammed hard, rolling forward to lessen the impact. It still hurt. The machete on my back dug into it painfully, and I shrugged it into a more comfortable position.

Spinning around, I caught sight of the crewman ducking behind the railing above me, two more behind him. This part of the room was still dark, the light spilling in from the doorway not nearly bright enough. I chuckled, knowing he was most likely blinded from the grenade blast and the sudden switch from light to darkness.

Moving nearly silently, without the metal suit I normally wore clanging noisily, I moved to the wall beneath him, in the deepest shadow of the room. He was barely four feet above me. I leaped upward, catching the edge of the floor with my hands, then slowly, painfully, hauled myself up till I was level below him. He was shouting something at the Corpus behind him when I struck. My hand grasped his helmet, hauled him over the railing, and flipped him downward. He screamed as he feel, smacking painfully with the base of his helmet. I was on him in an instant, the machete in my hand slashing downward.


It cleaved through his helmet, split his skull open, and turned his brain into mush. He died nearly instantly, barely having time to twitch. I left the machete where it was and grabbed his Dera, spinning to the railing above me. A crewman stood there, fumbling for his own rifle. He had clearly not expected to be needing it. I fired a long burst, melting his helmet into slag and boiling his brain. He slumped over the railing, then slide down until only his chest hung over. I grinned, satisfied.

Removing the machete from the corpse below me, I started upstairs. As I passed the corpse of the last man I shot, I noticed something odd. His armor was blue, and clearly far more advanced than the one below us. His helmet was less boxy, and more human shaped and rounded. I stopped by him, and clicked on the light mounted under the barrel of the Dera, then slowly grinned. He was a marine, the only actually battle trained units the Corpus had. I had faced them only once before, and had been impressed with how durable their armor and shields were, in addition to their battle tactics.


I pulled him backward, dropping his corpse to the floor. While his helmet, and most of his head, was a mess of molten slag, the under suit and overlying plates of the outfit were still in perfect condition. I quickly located the straps and clasps that held it onto him, and began to undo them.


Within minutes, I was clad in body hugging that fit me nearly perfectly. Corpus were human, the same as most Tenno, although larger on average. Thankfully, so was I. The armor was advanced, though not nearly so as the Warframe I normally wore. It restricted my movements slightly, but I didn't care. The shield generator on it's back hummed, putting out a field less than half an inch from my exposed skin. My head was still open, but I wasn't too worried about that.

What I was worried about was the magnetic plates on the armor. I could easily place the Lex on my hip, and the Dera fit easily over my shoulder on the back. As I examined myself, I noticed blades on the wrists, and a small button on the lower base of the palm. Pressing it on a whim, I was amazed as a blade of pure steel flipped out over my wrist. Nearly eighteen inches long, it was clearly a well built weapon. Pressing the button again, it flipped back, sheathing itself on the back of my wrist. I smiled, glad not to have to lug the machete around any more.


The door I was headed for was still open, so i strode through it. Various Corpus ships and fighters littered the area, but it was clear the pilots were else where. Only a single MOA, deactivated and in stand by mode, guarded them. The MOA was easily dispatched via a blade to it's operating module, and I climbed aboard a fighter.

The controls were foreign to me, but all I needed was the stick, the rudder, and the start button. Finding all three easily, I some what clumsily piloted it out of the open hanger, and put my foot down. It blasted away from the Grineer ship, and looking back I saw that a Corpus freighter was floating nearby.


I smiled, amazed at my luck, then blasted deeper away. I would have to stop and examine the radio later, and send out a distress call for any Tenno, but for now, I simply fled."

Craven287

Just another routine mission.


He just dropped down from his shuttle, ready for action. Ready for his mission, an assassination.
Lotus on his comm channel. "You've got your target, ensure he dies. A routine assignment."
He responded. "Eliminate target, thin enemy forces. Simple."
"Don't be overconfident. We've lost more Tenno that way."
"Don't worry, I'll take care." He closed comms.

His name is Craven. Craven the Hunter, some called him.
For when he had his target, he would follow the trail everywhere.
When the trail came to an end, the target would not see the next sunrise.
The last image the target would see was an arrow or blade coming from a dark, smoky, corner.

His equipment for this task was the usual set, his bow, Paris, a couple throwing knives and an Orthos.
After a few jumps up and down to check everything was secure, no rattling or clinking, he took his bow, nocked an arrow, and went in.

The first few minutes were just like always. One or two Grineer a room, patrolling in circles.
Arrow, knife or blade took care of the first few guards.
He approached a door, bow at the ready, when his radar went off. There were atleast a dozen Grineer in the next room.
Carefully, he stepped away from the door, shouldered the bow, scaled some crates and went into the ventilation, silent and still undetected.

Passing a hatch, he looked down, saw every Grineer in the room look right back at him through the hatch. Like they were warned...
Assault rifles kicked into life, a rain of bullets before and behind him. Choreographed.
When a hail stopped because of an empty magazine, another aimed his rifle in the air.
He wasn't given half a second to attempt moving further. Smiling grimly, so far for a routine mission, he thought.

When a heavy gunner moved into side, gun raising to the hatch, he decide to act.
Kicking down the hatch, which fell on a Grineer's head, he jumped down, Orthos in hand.
The fall down, combined with the razor sharp blade, cut Grineer and hatch perfectly down the middle.
A half circle swipe took care of another two.

Nine left, not including the heavy gunner.
He made a jump for the nearest object which looked like cover, slid behind it, and drew a couple of throwing knives.
Should have known better, routine always dies in the first second of fire, he thought. Knives flew.
Three Grineer went down in as many seconds.

Six and the heavy. Drawing his bow again, he nocked an arrow, jumped out of cover, let loose, and rolled behind some boxes the other side of the room.
Another arrow, then he shouldered the bow while drawing a knife with the other hand.
Three and the heavy still standing.
He drew the Orthos, took a breath, sprang up, and charged at them.

The closest got disemboweled, slashed while he ran past.
He jumped, stabbed a surprised looking Grineer in the face while in the air.
He kicked himself away, and went for an aerial decapitation.
Just the heavy gunner left.

Running, sliding, sliding slash to the heavy's legs, who fell down.
Intending to end this with a blade to the ribs, the blade got blocked by the heavy's gun.
A foot to the face got that obstacle out of the way, clearing a path for the Orthos.
Blade in the stomach,, taken out, half spin, the other blade entering the face.

That was that, blood wiped from the blades, and back on his back. The beeping radar came a little too late.
The next room held a dozen guns pointing at him, standing in the doorframe.
Suddenly, he became smoke and appeared everywhere and nowhere at once.
Grineer after Grineer fell, stabbed to death, one by one.

Deciding stealth was the best course of action while waiting for his energy reserves to replenish, he went into the ventilation.
After a couple minutes of crawling, not encountering anything, this didn't feel good.
Strange, he thought. A ship like this, two dozen just near where I entered, rest of the ship empty...
His waypoint updated to 30 meters, just behind a door. Good, he thought while reaching for his bow. Better take care of this and get the hell out.

"Where is everyone? Someone report in, NOW!"
Craven froze, arrow ready. Another Grineer, just past the door. A cloud of smoke, and he went in.
He stood behind what seemed like the last Grineer on board Who else but the target?. Bow raised, arrow nocked, drawing back.
Mission nearly complete.

"Report, damn it. What happened, did he..." the sentence remained unfinished.
"Boo". The target spun around, eyes wide, looking at his face. Craven saw shock, which turned to fear upon seeing the arrow pointed for a heart.
He let fly the arrow, the target's armor pierced like wet paper.
The target looked at the arrow impaling him. Fear turned to indignation as he fell to the ground.

Done. Half a quiver, nearly out of knives, Orthos scratched, but done.
Shield and energy were recharging as he headed to extraction.
His comms went active. "Good work, now head to your shuttle." Did the lights flicker for a second?
"That's the plan. Though it wasn't exactly rou" his comms emitted a near deafening screech, and he closed down as fast as possible.

"I know your every move, Craven."
"What the, I closed comms. What's this..."
"There is no salvation for your crimes"
"Who the hell are you?"

"I am your reckoning!"
"Wrong answer, I'm the Hunter, and YOU are PREY!"
Bow drawn back, Craven stepped into the next room, a cloud of smoke at the opposite door, behind which, his shuttle was waiting.
A figure in black stepped out of the smoke, also wielding a drawn bow. At the exact same moment, they both let loose.

As soon as they released, Craven jumped away, trying to get something solid between him and his attacker.
A black arrow from the shadowy figure, a grey one from him.
They collided in mid-air. The grey arrow did not survive.
Craven quickly glanced left, to the splintered remains of his arrow, right, to the black one half embedded in a solid steel wall, at neck height.

He couldn't help but think his shields would not have appreciated a direct hit.
Another little smile. Routine mission, yeah right, he thought.
He looked out if cover, one hand at his knives, and saw a large blade. It was a little too close to his face for comfort.
He threw a knife and leapt back, saw the blade impact where he had been a moment before. The knife was blocked harmlessly.

In response, he caught a knife on his arm, his shields from full to nearly down.
He looked at the impact point, no damage to the frame. He had no doubt that a second knife would pass through, however.
Deciding against headbutting arrow or knife, as it might prove unhealthy, close combat might be better.
Scythe against double bladed polearm, reach shouldn't be an issue.

He reached for the Orthos on his back, and started running.
The figure didn't move. Untill the very last moment.
The figure jumped back, reached for the scythe, and with an upward blow, hooked the blade between Craven's hands, and pulled the weapon away.
It was followed up with a blow to the shoulder, it felt like he could pick up his arm and use it to replace the polearm.

He saw a rip in the frame at the point of impact, shields down, health lowered.
This wasn't good. Sure as hell didn't feel good either.
One handed jump back to the nearest object looking like cover.
Quick check, three arrows, six throwing knives, Orthos lying on the ground, out of reach.

Seeing that options were running out fast, he had to do something.
Taking a knife in each hand, he ran past the figure, throwing the right knife while turning around.
It was deflected on the scythe.
Turning to face the figure, backward jump, left handed throw, just under the blade.

He felt better, the first hit had been made.
It didn't pass shields, but still.
He landed on his knees, next to the Orthos.
Gripping it, he used it to push himself up again, in a combat ready stance.

They both ran, then jumped at eachother.
Faces, set grim and dark, though neither could see the other behind their hlmets.
The blades hit eachother once, the clash rang through half the ship.
They flew further, Craven taking out another two knives and throwing the moment he hit the ground and had some stability.

One was deflected, the other wounded.
He jumped back, behind the nearest cover.
An arrow flew at him, but missed by centimeters.
He went invisible in a cloud of smoke.

Running to the right, across the walls, to avoid an easilly imaginable approach.
He had the Orthos in hand, jumped from the wall. straight at the figure.
He was still invisible, this should be the end of the fight.
Preparing for impact, to hit... nothing. The figure stepped out of the way.

His comms came to live again, even though he'd closed them multiple times already.
"Your TENNO powers are useless!"
"Only thing useless here, are you."
Craven couldn't see the figure's face, they were both still masked. Still, he thought, if looks could kill, I'd probably fall over right about now.

He fired an arrow and immeadiatly after, threw a knife. Arrow deflected by shields, knife hit the figure on the right leg.
Wounding hit, the first real damage inflicted to the figure. Smoke, invisibillity, again. Behind cover.
A quick glance to quiver and holsters gave news not exactly appreciated at times like this. Two arrows, one knife. Energy running low.
He allowed himself half a second to think.

When I get out of this, these kind of missions are over. Might have to start doing easier work. Maybe they've still got a couple of those Fomorians hidden away.
When I get out, or if... Desperation set in.

First an arrow, dodged, then going for another melee, he ran at the figure, blades ready.
Blade rang on scythe, both harmless. The fist coming at Craven, however, was not.
Struck in the right jaw, Craven went down. Lay on the ground on his back, eyes watching the scythe's tip hovering closer.
Last knife flew, hitting the hand holding the scythe. Grip on it's handle weakening by the now damaged hand.

Pain. Sudden, intense pain.
As a thank-you for the knife, a different knife appeared in Craven's left shoulder.
Both wounded, the fight would not take much longer.
Craven charged again, polearm ready, hoping to end the battle.

The figure charged too, suddenly, giantly increasing in speed.
Craven saw, recognized, the move.
In what could easily be the last moments of the fight, or more likely, of Craven, he managed to raise the longer weapon up to a defensive position.
The deafening screech of metal on metal, the polearm caught the scythe on the handle and snapped in half.

Caught by surprise, and a very unwelcome one at that, he looked at the halves and threw them aside.
This is it, he thought. All or nothing, and we'll find out right now.
He shot his last arrow.
The figure caught it in his hand in mid-air, ensured Craven was watching, and snapped the arrow.

Completely unarmed, there was nothing he could do.
"In seconds, it will be done. Craven shall be no more. I am the Stalker and I am the best."
"WHAT? You seriously got the NERVE to claim that title!"
A second before that, Craven had nearly decided there was no escape possible. Now, however, he decided to make this bastard work for it.

The best. The best hunter in the galaxy.
A title that he was given. A title that would be his. Not this random idiot's.
Sure, this idiot had survived everything, had disarmed him, and was moving in for the kill. Doesn't matter anymore.
The despair he felt with the broken blade and empty quivers was replaced by rage he felt at this insult. And rage, gave a strategy.

But could rage still help now?
He remembered something.
For his bladestorm, he used retractable blades mounted under his arms.
He still had those blades, but if he'd try to get close enough to use them, the scythe would take him down.

There was still energy left, enough for something he never did, as it always ended the same.
He'd pick a target, appear in smoke in front of the target, make a backflip and land.
Normally, aware or unaware target didn't matter. Because of the rediculous flip, he always ended up getting smacked in the face, losing the entire advantage, and with that, the single possible use for this worthless excuse of a skill.
He decided to do it.

Running at the figure, he suddenly dissapeared, re-appeared in front of this so-called Stalker, went for the ugly, non-ninja-like, harmless, flip, and suddenly, abandoned that part of the training, kicking the figure full in the face.
When he landed again, both sides were completely taken by surprise. The figure, because of the pain in his face, Craven, because this parlour-trick-of-a-skill actually proved useful for the first time since he chose to become Ash.
Though, it was an unofficial version of the skill. Had he used the original flip, he'd be on the ground, cut into pizza topping size by that scythe.
Blinking the shock of success from his eyes, he decided not to waste any more time, sprang for the Stalker, and extended the wristblades.

A blade in the right shoulder and a blade nearly opening the throat.
Held in place by the blades, he jumped again, kicked the figure with both feet, full in the chest.
The stalker flew backwards, dropping the scythe. Craven landed on his feet, blades already retracted.
"What have you... done?"

"Broken your insult."
The figure raised a hand.
Craven gathered the last of his energy for the final ability in his arsenal.
His hand was hidden by smoke for a second. When the smoke cleared, he held two shuriken.

"You are beaten. I am Craven the Hunter. I am the best."
"No..."
"Yes. And now, it's over."
He threw the shuriken at the Stalker, who dropped his hand and dissapeared in his own cloud of smoke. Had the Stalker been one tenth of a second later, the shuriken would have sliced through the Stalker's eyesockets.

Craven looked at the shattered remains of his Orthos, and walked over to the scythe. It's over, he thought. No more routine.
Picking it up, he gave it a few experimental swings and holstered the weapon across his back, where the polearm had been.
While making those swings, he felt an ingraving in the handle. He glanced at his shoulder, the handle in easy reach.
The word was "HATE".

He thought if his shuttle. He was ready to go home, have a decent meal and some rest.
Then he'd have to write this down. It might make a good story someday.
Tomorrow would be for practise with his new weapon.
He started walking.

While moving, he re-established contact with the Lotus.
"Mission's done. Complications taken care of. I'll put in a report tomorrow."
Preparing to close comms, he finished with a "Craven ou..."
"Wait a second. Something has come up, which we need taken care of. You have been chosen for it. It'll be simple, just a routine mission."

The Hunter gave a sigh as he closed comms.

Edited December 5, 2013 by Piranah1

[Piranah1]

Still non-Aequitas

 

Divinity112 (and interjection by FrostyCMC)

The Trinity watched disgusted as the Nekros, with a simple wave of his hand, raised the squad of Grineer Lancers the team had recently killed. It had been quite a few months since the gangly looking warrior had joined them. In a way she was also impressed with how much his power contrasted with her own. She was trained to preserve life, he took it away. The Nekros waved his hand again and sent the dead soldiers forward into one of the steaming vents of the Grineer Galleon. Gunfire erupted soon enough as the dead clashed with the living.

 

"Emm..." The third member of her team, the ever vigilant Roy, walked over clad in the Volt Warframe he had chosen when he was first awakened. "You okay?"

 

Emm could only nod as she looked at the Nekros, he called himself "Kevin." He didn't speak much to any of the other Tenno within her clan's ranks.  He was solitary, quiet, not necessarily rude but he didn't seem to enjoy socializing. When they had found him in the cryopod he spoke very little as though he was afraid of offending anyone in the clan. Roy and Carl tried to get Kevin to speak more but the attempts were fruitless. So Emm did her best to deal with him, even if his Nekros scared the living hell out of her. It was harder when Kevin was permanently attached to her team.

 

He was docile when at peace, but absolutely terrifying in war.

 

He hated the Grineer most of all, even for a Tenno his treatment of the clone armies of the Twin Queen's was...gruesome.

 

"Emm!"

 

The Trinity snapped out of it and turned her head to look at Roy. Despite the helmet covering his face she knew he was smiling. "Come on." He said hefting his rifle, an ornamental Latron Prime the Volt built himself.

 

"Right." Emm said as she readied her own weapon, a Braton. The Trinity shook her head of such thoughts. Now was not the time to linger. As Roy took point Kevin stood beside him as though sensing that the team was getting ready to move and when they did, Emm could have sworn she heard Kevin say one thing over the COMs in a very meek voice.

 

"Sorry for scaring you."

"Roy!"

 

His ears ringing the Volt shook his head. "Second time..." he muttered as Emm and Carl helped him up. As Emm managed to drag Roy back towards cover Carl suddenly vanished into thin air, his Loki warframe humming. A Grineer Scorpion was charging at Kevin who kept his head behind cover. Carl decapitated the Grineer female with his Fang stilletos.

 

Emm pulled Roy into cover and made to revive him. There was a sudden scream as Kevin Soul Punched some poor Grineer Lancer, sending his broken body into another trooper. The Nekros then raised his Boltor and fired a three round burst that pinned a Grinner trooper to the floor. Screaming in agony he was ignored by the Grineer assault team that was headed in their direction.

 

"How much more time do we need?!" Emm called for Carlos as she helped Roy get back on his feet. The Volt nodded his thanks and took up his position near the cryopod.

 

Carl leaped over the barricade and took cover as Grakata and Gorgon fire swept over the barricade. "Just a few more minutes!" He peeked up to blast another Scorpion backwards with his Strun.

 

Emm swore as she reloaded her Braton. Beside her Roy and Kevin did the same with their own weapons.

 

It had been quite a few months since the clan had met all together like this, Emm mused sitting on the stone bench, one of many that litered the Clan Hall. She was still in her Trinity Warframe, waiting in the hall that served as the meeting place for Clan Bellum Forma. They were a small clan, twelve in number. They hadn't had much time with recruiting what with the Lotus needing their services in rescuing those Tenno who still slumbered.

 

"I heard that Ivan and John found some recruits." Roy said as he approached and sat down next to Emm on the stone bench. The hall was decorated frugally. Ivan and John spent a lot of time arguing about decorations. John found them to be wasteful. Ivan complained that the room was empty.

 

"Recruits?" Emm asked. "Really?"

 

"Yep, new Warframes to add to the tally." Roy said. "Where's Carl?"

 

The door to the left slid open. Carl walked in. The Loki rolled his shoulders. "Hey." He greeted his two teammates. Roy and Emm nodded back. After a few minutes the rest of Bellum Forma walked in. The first was Warlord John, wearing his Frost Warframe. Ruthless, he was the first founder of the Clan. He was a veteran of many battles and had a hatred of all the enemies of the Lotus and the Tenno. The second Warlord, Ivan, was just as fierce wearing the heavy Rhino Warframe. Like John he was ruthless but he was a lot more talkative. It worked like that for the both of them, Ivan was the Voice of Bellum Forma but it was John who was the Will of the clan. The others filed in and the Mag, Kelly, waved to her brother Carl who waved back.

 

"So, what are we standing around for anyway?" Janice, the Ember, spoke brusquely. Her Warframe suited her quite well. Janice was always fiery tempered.

 

"Calm down Janice, we just got here and aready you're making a fuss." Levi, the Vauban, said trying to calm her down. Janice turned to glare at him. Levi raised his hands in a calmng gesture. Beside them Adam, an Excalibur, and Serin, a Nyx, snickered. Emm sighed. The Ash, Karasu, just watched silently. Carl and Roy just stood at attention.

 

"Enough." Ivan said firmly. "John has an annoucnement to make, so shut it already."

 

John nodded in thanks. "We found two new Tenno recruits to add to our ranks so I expect all of you to treat them with respect." The Frost turned to look each of the clan members in the eye. He then turned to the closed door. "You may enter now, Tenno." He called out.

 

The first Warframe was obviously made for a female. It was a Nova Warframe, a pretty powerful frame that focused on using antimatter. The second was the most interesting one of all, it was a dark gangly looking frame that didn't look like much but the way it was designed made some of the Tenno in the Clan Hall very nervous.

 

"That's a Nekros." Emm murmured.

 

"That is one scary motherfu-" Janice started.

 

"That will be quite enough, Tenno Janice." John interrupted coldly. He turned to the Nova and the Nekros. "State your names Tenno."

 

The Nova stepped forward. "I am Yuno, the Nova, I thank both Warlords Ivan and John for liberating me from the Corpus Collective." She bowed "I hope to be of service."

 

John nodded. "And you?" He asked the Nekros. The other Tenno didn't say much just his name.

 

"Kevin...my-my name is Kevin."

 

FrostyCMC's interjection

"I was wondering what your name was!" Kevin jumped as Loki revealed himself stepping out of a shadow that seemed too small for him. "I've been stalking you for a week trying to figure it out!" 

 

Kevin took a moment to get his heart rate back to normal before Loki's words registered.

 

"...Wait, you've been wha-"

 

"Anyway, I'm sure you're all hungry, so I took the liberty of bringing you all free samples of my latest culinary experiment: brownies!"

 

"How did you even get in here?" John demanded. "You were never given a key!"

 

Loki pointedly ignored the Warlord as he went on. "Now I know Tenno don't usually need to eat, but I encourage you all to give it a try! If you like them, you know where to find me." And with that he cloaked, dodged the two Warlords trying to grab him, and escaped.

Divinity112 again

 

It took two to tango.

 

Janice learned that when Ivan made the smart decision to pair her up with their new recruit Kevin all those months ago. Here they were stuck behind cover on a Corpus Outpost, with lasers flying over their heads. The Ember snarled as she reloaded her Soma rifle then let loose as soon as the laser fire petered out.

 

Beside her Kevin waited patiently then slipped out of cover firing his Boltor in bursts. A MOA had the misfortune of being pinned to the opposite wall, Kevin dashed to the adjacent nook in the wall and took cover there, as the assorted bunch of MOAs, crew men and a particularly nasty Corpus Tech began firing at him. While in cover Kevin channeled energy into his Nekros Warframe and lashed out with a Soul Punch that took out one crew man and sent his corpse into another group.

 

"Nice!" Janice yelled as she threw a fireball that reduced another crewman to ash. Shields flickering, a MOA turned its turret towards the Ember and let loose with a barrage of blue bolts. Cursing liberally Janice dove for cover. The Tech aimed his Supra and began to fire at her as well. Keeping her head down Janice winced as she realized how bad it was. She was pinned down, she peaked up to fire some bursts off but the Corpus outgunned her.

 

Kevin decided enough was enough and used the technique that his warframe was known for, Souls of the Dead, his Nekros didn't literally bring the dead back to life. Instead the Nekros Warframe absorbed genetic material from kills and stored them for Kevin's personal use. He then channeled Energy into creating almost life-like copies of his kills that fought for him. The copies, as soon as they appeared, got to work fighting with their former comrades. Lasers flew through the air as MOAs shrieked and Corpus crewmen gibbered and whooped in  their strange language.
 

"Let's go!" Kevin called. Janice, nodding her head, sped after the running Nekros.

 

"I like you."

 

Kevin's mind was a complete blank. He could not stop thinking over what Janice had told him in the Clan Hall. The Nekros sat in his quarters just staring at the wall as he sat on his cot. His quarters were spartan like, just a cot and a small desk. Kevin rubbed his temples, thinking about his current situation. Ever since his induction into Bella Forma he had no interest in offending anyone. He avoided contact most of the time except for Emm who did her best to talk to him each day. Isolation is not good for the mind, she had said, and Kevin had quietly obeyed her. She was the team's medic after all and she was responsible for the health of everyone.

 

The Warlords assigned him to teams. Sometimes he'd go with John or Ivan whenever they asked him to. He just did his best and despite his wish to avoid the spot light Kevin had become a crucial supporting member of the clan. After missions Carl and Roy would drag him off to hang out. Despite his shyness, Kevin began to enjoy being a member of the clan. Then he'd been paired up with Janice on one mission. Janice, despite her foul mouth and boisterous attitude, was reliable in combat. She and Kevin had cleared out more than one infested derelict during their time working together. They watched each others' backs during hectic firefights and on more than one occasion faced death and lived.

 

Kevin understood why she liked him but how would he return her feelings? Since his awakening he had no idea how to cope with a situation like this. And so he sat there, embarrassed, confused as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

 

"Kevin..."

 

He looked up at Janice and smiled slightly. "Did Emm send you?" he asked quietly "I'm...I'm okay." They looked at each other, the Ember was cautious. The Nekros was... well he was hard to read as usual. Kevin stood and took Janice's hands in his. "Really I'm okay."

 

"Everyone was worried." Janice whispered. "You just...blanked out and you wouldn't talk for the past few days."

 

"Because we're siding with the Grineer?" Kevin asked. "Yes I am resentful of that fact. When those words left John's mouth yes I was angry because the Grineer have taken so much for me." He kissed Janice's forehead. "But I'm a soldier. I don't know what John's reasons are for siding with the Grineer but I follow orders."

 

Janice pouted. "So...you're okay?"

 

Kevin nodded. "I couldn't afford to upset my Ember after all." he said smiling.

 

"Make a push!"

 

Kevin and Roy moved in unison keeping up a suppressive fire alongside several Grineer Lancers, quickly suppressing the troop of Corpus Crewmen with a barrage of high caliber rounds and bolts from Kevin's own Boltor. Clan Bellum Forma had finally showed its hand, John took one team with him and Ivan was in charge of the other. The Grineer, ever spiteful, looked down on their temporary allies. John gave all of the clan members standing orders that if the Grineer commanders tried anything lethal force was authorized.

 

Kevin ducked down to reload as Roy kept up the fire. He was worried about Janice, but in truth he really shouldn't be.

 

/

 

On the other side of the ship...

 

"BURN SUCKER BURN!!" Janice screamed depressing the trigger on one of the new Ignis flamethrowers she was given, toasting the unfortunate Corpus that had turned into the corridor her team was rushing through.

 

/

 

"Quit worrying about your girlfriend Kev." Roy said switching to his sidearm, the Lex punching a hole through a MOA's legs.

 

"I'm trying not to." Kevin answered firing three round bursts at a towering Corpus Tech. "I...I should not."

 

Numb.

 

That was how Kevin felt as he fired a three round burst of armor piercing bolts punched through a Corpus Crewman's helmet. His Boltor clacked empty. Kevin slung the weapon and switched to his Vasto revolver and continued firing, picking off a MOA walker that just walked into the line of fire. He was tired from the constant combat.

 

Ara was starting to gain a reputation of being the bloodiest battle he had ever been in. The Grineer would push forward only to be pushed back, the same thing would happen to the Corpus. In all honesty it was like a really stupid game where neither side was winning. He was tired of shooting block shaped Corpus heads, he was tired of screaming MOAs trying to drop kick him whenever Carl pulled off a Radial Disarm on them. He was tired of Alad V. And Sargas Ruk insulting each other and the Tenno over the COM links.

 

He was tired of Ara...And he wanted to be with Janice.

 

"Kevin..."

 

The Nekros was panting. A Corpus Crewman was...flattened against the wall. Several other Corpus were scattered all over the place, a Corpus Tech was in the corner beaten to death with the leg of a MOA that was lying broken on the deck. "He...They all caught me off guard." He said "I didn't do it on purpose..." Janice couldn't see past Kevin's helmet but she knew he was in some sort of shock. She walked over to him and touched his arm. Kevin sighed. "I didn't..." he started.

 

"I know." Janice spoke gently "Come on...Let's head back okay? You just need some rest."

 

"I didn't mean to..." Kevin babbled quietly. "I never meant to..."

 

"Kevin," Janice gently pulled him away from the scene. "Come on, it's going to be okay..."

 

/

 

"What happened?" John asked calmly as he looked at the monitor. He saw Janice sitting down next to Kevin who had his head down.

 

"He's tired, John." Emm answered as she walked over to his side. "We've been fighting the Corpus with no end in sight." She looked at the monitor with practiced eyes, flying at her side was the Carrier Sentinel that was holding a clipboard using its Vacuum function. As the team's only Trinity Emm was a very important asset to the clan which was why John had put her in reserve in case something like this happens. 

 

"Let him rest, John." Emm said "I'll look after him."

 

"Very well." John said. "I'll redo the team rosters for the next battle. Just...make sure he'll be fine alright?"

 

Emm bowed her head as her Carrier gave a chirrup. "Yes Warlord."

 

Vesper3

Warning: Violence ahead

 

He glided down the corridor, energy waves making his well-toned muscles pulsate. Infested poured out of the doors like the flood they were, mindlessly bounding towards him with one single thought which occupied what was left of their minds: Kill.

 

There was nothing to fear, for he was Fear itself, the embodiment of terror and despair. His calm visage betrayed no emotion as he sheathed his Reaper, drawing his Dual Vastos. The spectre’s cold mind calculated every blow, every shot, every life he would take. Death was about to arise.

 

The first Charger would regret its enthusiasm for the rest of its life (which was about three seconds) as the spectral figure leaped and landed on its skull, crushing it and killing it instantly. He used it as a launching pad and incapacitated two more with a kick in the face. He drew what was left of their souls into himself, and released them with a burst of power, ending their misery. Spinning around, he launched his body into a Leaper, bringing them both to the ground, with him astride the Leaper. His was the last face the creature would see as the spectre put two bullets into its head.

 

Rising, he swung both Vastos in opposite directions and shot two more Leapers. Both went down with holes drilled into their chests. He run towards a Runner who had decided to join the fray and hurled himself at it while catching its head in a vice-like grip. He smashed it into the ground and one well-placed shot stopped its struggling. The resulting explosion of bodily fluids flung him into a wall with considerable force.

 

Hauling himself to his knees, he found himself face-to-face with a Disruptor. It struck him on the chest, hard. He was flung to the ground and slid for several metres before coming to a stop. The Disruptor lumbered towards him, snapping its appendages like a whip. Once, he had found them to be amusing playthings. How adequate it was that the puppets had become the puppet master. Only, he knew that this show would end in death, for either one of them. Clutching at a railing, he heaved himself up, singing to the tiny creatures dwelling inside him.

 

The nanobots came in swarms, surrounding their spectral host. They formed themselves into images of the fallen around them, launching themselves at the enemy.The Disruptor was dragged to his knees by what, in its final moments, it thought to be its brethren. The spectre appeared before it, regarding it coldly for a few moments. He raised a Vasto, aimed, and fired. 

 

The stench of death followed him as he made his way down the hallways. No matter. It served as a warning to both friend and foe that he, the Deathmonger, Shade of Death, was not to be taken lightly.

 

We know him as the one called Nekros.

 

TheBrok3n

The sound of metal on metal announced the tenno's arrival on the Corpus frigate. Blood red armoured boots hit the deck as Excalibur crouched to absorb the impact of the landing.

 

So far so good, he thought. Some days a watchful crewman or trooper happened to witness the approach of the tenno snub fighter and raised the alarm making the only course of action to fight through the ships defenses before insertion. This was not one of these days and for that Excalibur was thankful. His mission was the recovery of critical intel on upgrades to the MOA pathfinding and threat detection software. As if that wasn't enough the Lotus had hinted that the chief programmer in charge of developing the upgrades might be on this ship as well.

 

The Blood red warframe shrugged as Excalibur loosened the muscles in his neck and shoulders after the long flight. Agility and strength came from loose muscles and joints, not cramp ones. Pulling his Latron prime from the magnetic clamps on the back of his warframe, Excalibur strode from the sparsely cluttered storage bay and almost right underneath a ceiling mounted camera. Excalibur made a mental note of his lack of vigilance and drew and threw a Kunai throwing knife into the camera body in one fluid motion. It would not do to be discovered before the valuable intel was recovered. This part of the ship was largely devoid of personnel and the first terminal was nearby.

 

Excalibur had just finished hacking the first data terminal the automated door next to it slid open with a hiss. His reflexive roll brought him behind a cargo crate meters away just as the Corpus crewman stepped into view of the terminal. Excalibur cursed as the datamass rose out of the floor and readied his kunai as the crewman stepped up to the terminal. The face behind box helmet was not visible but Excalibur read the crewman's surprise in the way he drew back from the hacked terminal. At that moment 2 kunai sunk deep into the crewman's back knocking him off his feet. Snatching up the datamass, Excalibur stepped through the same door the crewman had used and took out another camera with a practised flick of his wrist. Threat contained for now.

 

Three out of four datamasses had been collected when Excalibur spied the last terminal at the corner of a hanger filled with crewmen and MOA's milling about. There was no way to get to it without being seen. Not unless he was a Loki. He dropped the datamass he was carrying, his face tightened as he prepared himself for a fight. The Excalibur too a deep breath and broke from cover a a blur of motion, throwing 10 kunai in a matter of seconds at the yellow and green MOAs in the hanger. Experience taught him that the proxies always responded faster and more lethally than their flesh and blood counterparts. Excalibur drew his Latron prime as the last kunai left his fingers and emptied the magazine just as fast into the various crewmen. As the last round left the chamber Excalibur saw it wasn't enough. One crewman had survived the initial blitz and was running for a security console and a Corpus tech had leveled his Supra at Excalibur to cover his colleague. Excalibur weighed his options, there was not enough time to pull a fresh handful of kunai before the tech cut him down in a torrent of super heated plasma. His enemies were both in slash dash range but not close enough to each other to reach with one strike. His radial blind would not reach the crewman and would not buy enough time to reload before the alarm sounded. At that point Excalibur stopped thinking and blurred into motion. The supercharged muscles in the legs of the warframe sent him into a horizontal leap, giving Excalibur the momentum to cross the remainder of the hanger in the blink of an eye and cut the tech in half with the single ether long sword on his back.

 

The alarm sounded as Excalibur sheathed the ether sword and turned to the crewman who sounded it. Whether he was brave or just foolish, the crewman level his own weapon, a Dera plasma rifle, and sent a burst of blue plasma bolt racing in the tenno's direction. Excalibur tucked his legs into a roll and came up throwing his kunai. Ending the crewman, the blood red warframe jogged to the terminal and hacked it with the help of a cipher. Usually he didn't use ciphers but time was of essence now that the alarm had been sounded. Slapping a fresh magazine into his Latron Prime, Excalibur scaned the rest of the room before picking up the discarded datamasses. 

 

"Change of plans," The Lotus said,

 

"You now need to capture the target on this ship." Excalibur would have groaned but he was too professional for that. Instead he set off and a blistering run for the target's location. Hopefully he could capture the target and get off this ship before and organised response could be made to rid this vessel of him. Excalibur raced down corridors and walkways, through hangers and cargo bays. Slash dashing through bunches of enemies whenever they tried to bar his way. Reaching a large room with suspended walk walkways, Excalibur activated the powerful legs on the warframe and kicked the ground, sending him up more than 20 meters vertically and onto a suspended walkway connecting to the room the target was in. 

 

Bursting into the room, Excalibur threw two kunai into the target's knees and knocked him off his feet with a flying kick. Checking the room and walkway for pursuers and finding none, Excalibur raised his hand over the fallen programmer and began the digifying him. Although crude by orokin standards and somewhat inhumane, the Tenno had collectively agreed that it was better than dragging a fighting screaming prisoner to extract. 

 

"Mission complete, get to extraction." Excalibur thought the Lotus sounded a bit smug but he brushed it off. By now the crew of the ship had mustered their strength and opposed him such that it all seemed one long battle to him. As Excalibur fought and killed, he descended deeper and deeper in to a battle trance, thinking little and feeling less, giving himself over to his fight honed instincts and becoming one with the weapons he wielded. Such a trance was the escape of the tenno mind from the violence that surrounded them. Excalibur, like most of his kin, did not enjoy the death and destruction that wearing a warframe entails. Tenno are no less human than the Humans were. It was actually common belief amongst the Tenno that they were superhuman, having greater strength and reflexes as well as discipline and compassion. 

 

Excalibur only emerged from his battle trance when he stepped into the man shaped concave on the belly of his snub fighter. He allowed himself a moment of silent congratulations on a successful mission before settling in for a long flight home to his clan dojo. He would have to maintain his equipment and warframe and continue honing his skills but for now he could rest.

 

Darayas

Hey there, I'm doing a writeup about Warframes in the Orokin period at the onset of the Great Plague. I posted the first draft a month ago or so, but I never finished it. I've tweaked it since then and I'd love to get some feedback on it from you guys here! 

 

 

SYSTEM//EXPUNGE

 

“War is not a state to be entered into lightly. If purity is the penultimate state that all Tenno strive towards, then that must be a doctrine exercised to its maximum in that which we were created for – battle.
The aim of the Tenno warrior-monk must therefore be to attain purity in war, for the two are one and the same. The blade is the extension of inviolate spirit; the rifle a manifestation of holy will. Be unto your foe as heat unto ice.
If any lapse is to be found in martial discipline and commitment, this impurity must be expunged wholly before it poisons the balance of the Focussed Path. Eliminate it. Annihilate it. A moment of laxity breeds a lifetime of heresy. This is the application of war in its purest form.”

-Sunt’zu, Reflections on Tenno Martialism

*

Enormous security gatelocks, as tall as a man and then half again, groan. Fire-blackened steel buckles, crumples, and is blown clean off its hatches as easily as a rotten wooden door folds away.

 

Castellan Khanda, broader than two adult athletes, taller than the gatelock itself, strides through the gaping hole where a meter-thick slab of metal used to be. The light inside the courtyard finds him clad in the burnished smoke-and-pearl of an Excalibur warframe. The noble anatomy of a killer ripples lethally beneath the muscle-weave fibre of the suit.

 

Oudh and Himachal follow after the Seneschal, stooping low to fit through, their skull-close and eyeless helms in place. The Tenno are both Seneschals – lower in rank than Khanda, but no less deadly. They, too, bear the lethal physicality of the Excalibur. Hung from their warframes are ceremonial tassels and half-kilts; in the sickening wind, they brush against the silk gleam of armour shaped expressly for war.

 

“Here they come,” grunts Oudh. He raises his tulwar into the ready position. The wickedly curved blade glints like glass in the pallid light.

 

The Infected slither out of the smoke, filling the air with their gurgling jackal-growls. Fast-moving chargers, quick as darts, run like wild dogs ahead of the shambling and tumorous leapers. Their multi-jointed limbs twist violently in ways that nothing natural can mimic.

 

“Meet them! Deny them!” Khanda orders. Even as Oudh and Himachal leap into the fray, he draws his own weapon from his back. The Orthos snaps to its full length and sings as it cuts through the air.

 

No light catches the Infected onslaught. It’s as if even the sun is loath to look upon beasts as vile and unholy as these. Where they slobber across the dusty ground, shadows lengthen and yawn.

 

The Seneschals have buried themselves deep in the horde. They have time to empty just a clip from their Boltors before the fight devolves into a swirling, furious melee. Where the Infected scrabble and claw with the mad instinct of predatory beasts, the Tenno are a thin, pale line of deadly finesse.

 

Oudh’s tulwar carves chunks of cancerous flesh with every swing. His swordplay is fast, graceful, precise; he bisects and portions the enemy like slabs of meat. Himachal, instead, has foregone the elegance of bladework for the sheer output of his Fragor. The massive hammer, ridiculously oversized, pummels bluntly into an assaulting leaper. The Infected burst into blossoms of ichor and tumour. He swings left with effort, then brings it about, using the momentum to catch the bulbous heads of three chargers in a downward arc. Theyexplode in wrecks of ruined flesh. The atmosphere itself shakes in ruptured shuddering for a split second. Bodies are sent flying, burst like ripe melons.

 

Khanda is still running. He lofts out of the smog bank wafting about the courtyard, and plunges down into the screaming horde of Infested like a marble bolt. His Orthos tears into the press of flesh and weaves arcs of destruction at either razor-clean end.

 

The Infested are dying in their droves, but they refuse to retreat. They come on in waves like wolves. There is some sort of hive mind driving them, a ravenous pack mentality that gives them the unthinking savagery of a mob. When they fight, they fight as one howling, mad tumult. A leaper rushes at Khanda as he makes a wreckage of a charger’s mouth, only to be cleaved in half with the backswing of his polearm.

 

The Tenno by contrast are warriors. Their heroic skill pitted against the worthlessness of their enemies, they fight individual wars in the broken, desolate courtyard. Lions, among wolves.            

 

The Seneschals and their Castellan whittle down the horde, when Himachal suddenly swears. A charger has his right arm in its slavering jaws, and it drags him to the ground as it savages his armour. Other chargers begin to pile on, pinning him in place, until Oudh and Khanda sink their blades into their flesh and hurl them off.

 

As the last Infected slobbers and falls, Khanda pulls Himachal to his feet. “You’re getting sloppy,” he admonishes.

Himachal is not in a good way. The charger’s maw has eaten straight through the fibre of the warframe, down to the Tenno’s skin. Deep gashes and bite marks line the bare flesh that shows through the ruptured armour. The skin around the injury has blackened.

 

The Seneschal winces and clutches his arm. “The wounds burn, Castellan,” he says as he retrieves his hammer. “But I acknowledge my laxity and will be sure to correct it.”

 

Khanda nods. “Let’s advance beyond the Elephant Gate. We’ve got hordes to clear.”

 

Khanda digs his Orthos into the ground and takes stock of his surroundings. Soaring above the courtyard are two great stone elephants from which the gate takes its name, locking tusks in a feral dispute. Though they have remained relatively untouched by the fighting, the walls that line the rest of the patio are broken in places. Crumbled masonry sits fallen and forlorn on the ground. The sound of more fighting can be heard in the distance – other Tenno kill-teams, undoubtedly, going about the business of expunging the Infested from the city. Their transhuman genetic code shields the sanctity of their flesh from the parasitic claim that the Great Plague had laid on the rest of humanity.  

 

The Great Plague. How bitterly natural the term sounds, he reflects, for a catastrophe of man's own making. Just over four years ago, the Orokin bio-weapon had spread uncontrollably from the hinterland testgrounds to the cities. Its initial effect, whilst inconvenient, was hardly harmful – it turned cold metal and circuitry into steaming, organic piles of meat. It took over guns, vehicles, walls; anything metallic could be consumed.

 

But in time, as it had been intended to do, the virus evolved to eat living flesh as well. Originally intended to be employed in controlled dosages against the Sentients, it took on the dimensions of an epidemic +but worse than an epidemic, an epidemic is coldly neutral, not possessed of a kind of endless, void-yawning malice+ and started to spread.

 

“Did you feel that?” Khanda asks. Oudh nods slowly. He was about to sheathe his tulwar, but now keeps it clasped in his hand.

 

The plague eventually grew to target the Orokin genome, even quicker than it identified metal. Its horrifyingly quick evolution saw scores living in the sprawling cities +all of them screaming as they choked on their own haemorrhaging tissue, nowhere to run to, nowhere to escape, trapped in the meat-cage of their own bodies as flesh filled ears, filled eyes, filled throats, stewed brains and smothered tears+  succumb. Before long, millions had been transmogrified into the slavering bio-forms that Khanda and the Tenno had just massacred +which are but preliminary tendrils, exploratory, probing fingers, not even a fraction of the unbound, relentless darkness spilling in from the inky fringes of black space, so unimaginably vast that it regards humanity as a whale might regard a plankton before it gets wholly consumed in its colossal maw+

 

Himachal doubles over. He rips off his helm and retches onto the ichor-stained ground. Oudh and Khanda are driven to their knees, coughing and dry-heaving under the shockwave of the psionic blast.

 

“Get up, Tenno,” Khanda is rasping as he struggles to rise, to meet whatever this new threat is. “Get up and form on me.”

 

Oudh has caught the weight of a limp Himachal in his arms. “Castellan,” he calls desperately, “Himachal is down!”

 

“I saw it,” Himachal breathes. “I saw into its head…I saw everything…”

 

Khanda rushes to help support the wounded Seneschal.

 

“Wait,” he says as he catches sight of the Tenno’s helm-less face. “His eyes –”

 

Castellan Khanda has no time to complete his sentence. The Elephant Gate erupts in a colossal explosion of crumbling stone and masonry dust, sending chunks of marble and limestone sailing into the courtyard. 

An Ancient has just entered the terrace. It has blown its way through the rock walls of the Elephant Gate with the sheer force of its hateful, twisted musculature. Multi-faceted eyes atop what passes for its head twinkle with the iridescence of animal malice. Sick light, made filthy by the cloud of dust, invests it like the robes of some unholy daemon.

 

A sharp tang of decay wafts off wet black flesh, puckering above the ripple of muscles attached to translucent skin in a way that isn’t even remotely human. Its right arm is a deformed spur of misaligned fibrous tissue, ending in an amorphous clump of bone and flesh. Its left ends at the elbow in an amputated, gaping hole, coughing a rumble of disease and acid from the orifice. A jagged halo of bone crowns the beast like a pagan god.

 

This is the shaping of mankind’s nightmares into featureless form. It is a wonder they have not been driven mad by the insanity of it all.

 

Khanda is the first to recover his senses. He spins his Orthos in a slow figure-eight with the assured promise of violence. “Tear it to pieces,” he orders.

 

Oudh has risen. He has drawn his Boltor, and it opens up with a dry bark. Flesh-shredding bolts tear into the Ancient and turn it into a meaty pincushion. Everything about the Boltor is designed for stopping power – crafted in the finest of Tenno artificer-halls, its chamber, barrel, and ammunition have all been forged to stagger and push back.

 

It has hardly slowed the Ancient.

 

Oudh’s weapon runs empty with a hollow click. He is about to engage with his tulwar, to meet the slow and purposeful advance of the monster, but Khanda is already there. The Castellan uses the reach and sharpness of his long polearm to maximum effect. He cuts and slices divots out of the Infested’s bulbous body, but it is like sinking a blade into a thick block of foam. The beast seems to register no pain at all, and the sheer mass of the Ancient’s flesh begins to suffocate the cutting edge of the Orthos.

 

With a contemptuous, thundering backhand, the Ancient slaps the Tenno away.

 

Khanda impacts against the far wall. He can feel his ribs broken in three places. It is hard to breathe with his lungs on fire.

 

Himachal, face blazing with fury, slips his helm back over his head and staggers forward. He has his Fragor held in a drunken grip, his movements more controlled by the weight of the hammer than the other way round. The weapon barrels wildly forward and hits the Ancient like a thunderclap. Viscera spray paints the walls and its neck snaps backward violently. For a moment, Khanda almost believes it is about to die.

 

But he forgets that it is Infested – that the concepts and limits of natural anatomy are lost on monsters that are built on anything but.

Himachal has made a fatal error. Destructive as it is, the shorter range of the Fragor has brought him straight into the Ancient’s corridor of attack, and it is a mistake that the Infested exploits immediately.

 

Gas wheezes from the monster’s maw. Wrapping its grotesquely distended right arm around Himachal like a constrictor’s grip, it discharges the fetid plague-smoke of its left appendage onto the Tenno. It leaves him to crash to the floor, wracked by vomit-spasms and seizures.

 

Khanda forces himself to his feet. His legs feel leaden and his arms cannot move for the burning sensation that is spreading from his solar plexus. His Excalibur’s quick triage-diagnosis reveals two organs punctured by the shards of his shattered rib-cage. Serotonin and combat drugs dispense from the suit’s intravenous connections, flooding his system, numbing the pain.

 

Oudh is busy dragging the other stricken Seneschal to safety. He’s drawn his Furis, and is discharging the entire magazine into the Ancient – but if the Boltor couldn’t stop it, the smaller calibre of the automatic pistol has no chance.

 

The Castellan prepares himself to charge. A wounded Tenno is a Tenno no less – transhuman, martial. Built for war. Built, birthed, to bury his blade in the wounds of his enemy, even as his own body is rent and torn. Better to die with honour than survive in shame.

 

Khanda does not, however, get the chance to martyr himself.  

Through the ruined gate, moving far faster than anything of that size should be able to, is another Tenno. The transverse crest of horsehair atop his helm marks him out as a Castellan, too. His fleetness of foot beggars belief. The warrior is built like a tank, all plated metal, and beneath that, all bunched muscle.

 

The Ancient, busy trying to dismember a frantic Oudh, has not yet noticed him.

 

With a roar that shakes the dust from the broken marble of the Elephant Gate, the warrior slams into the Infested with such reverberating force that he actually staggers it. Mailed fists pummel deeply and relentlessly; the haymakers first pulp soft, limp flesh, and then fracture bone.

The Tenno plunges his hand into the puckering ravage that he’s made out of the Ancient’s back. He reaches, finds what he’s looking for, and rips.

 

The beast’s spine comes clean out of its system in an apocalyptic release of gore.

 

Inexplicably, the Ancient is not yet done. Its unnatural assemblage of bone structure is still enough of a scaffold to prop up its meat-bag body. It is powered on by pure malice, pure hatred. Whatever counts for its nervous system is a mere formality. Like a consumptive bull, hateful, blood-jet eyes turn to focus on the newcomer. Insectoid mandibles chitter in anger.

 

The Infested is not done, but neither is the Tenno.

 

He wields the sundered spine of the monster like a sword, and brings the razor edges of shattered bone down onto the Ancient. He cleaves through its face, messily shearing off gobbets of cancerous tissue, even as the spine-sword itself still drips with viscera. Then he draws a Scindo from his back, and lines the Ancient up for the killing blow.

 

Ancient flesh is tenacious. The plague’s genetic code is engineered to reknit torn tissue, and takes advantage of haemorrhaging cancer cells to grow new meat where it has broken. Swords of lesser make have often made a dozen cuts on the flesh of bio-forms, only to have these wounds healed over before the last laceration has even been made. But the regenerative qualities of the Ancient cannot stand up to the sublime balance and razor-keenness of a Scindo’s monomolecular edge – and not, not even for a moment, a Scindo driven violently downwards by a transhuman arm.

 

The two halves of the Ancient flop wetly into the dust.

 

“Grendel,” says the Tenno as he kicks at the Ancient’s steaming corpse. “It was termed Grendel. I’ve been hunting this one for days.”

 

Khanda winces in pain as he walks towards the other Castellan. With the tumult of the fight subsiding, he can see clearer amidst the haze and blood-smoke particulated by the violence of every blow traded. The Tenno is clad in a Rhino warframe, burnished in the magenta and teal that are the trademark colours of the warrior-monks’ finest fighters.

 

“We were in quite a spot back there. You have my thanks,” he says, and extends his hand to the Rhino.

 

“Wait!” Himachal gasps. Oudh is trying to hold the severely wounded Seneschal back, but he keeps scrabbling desperately forward. “Wait!”

 

“When the psionic blast happened, I saw into the Ancient’s mind,” he hisses breathlessly. His face is drawn with pain. “It…it touchedsomething. S…Someone.”

 

The Rhino begins to advance. “Castellan,” he says quietly. “Come here.”

 

“Don’t!” Himachal insists, his voice throbbing with the cut of pain. “Listen to me! I felt it! It pried past flesh, past will. Tenno shouldn’t be prone to infection, but it…it happened.  It touched something’s soul and took it over. It touched the Rhino.”

 

Khanda’s Orthos snaps forward. The pinpoint edge of the blade is pointed straight at the Rhino’s chest. The Rhino stands, arms akimbo in a non-threatening gesture. His right hand is still grasping the Scindo tight.

 

“Castellan,” he says slowly. “Step away.”

 

“Stay back,” Khanda warns, his eyes fixed straight on the other Tenno. “I don’t know what it is that’s going on, but you’d better stay back.”

 

“Everything he’s said is true,” admits the Rhino quietly, “except for one thing.”

 

The Rhino moves closer.

 

“It was your Seneschal that was touched by the Ancient.”

 

Khanda hears bones crack. Sinew stretches taut to breaking point and beyond. Fat melts like wax dripping. A ribcage expands like bony wings and snaps open. Arms distend, tendons and bones twisting, breaking, reforming, and breaking again. The air is suddenly full of blowflies. Khanda can feel a gurgling jackal-growl at his back.

 

The Seneschal’s mouth elongates and splits into four mandibles, smearing broken skin and tissue against a tearing warframe that cannot contain the black flesh germinating from within.

 

Himachal laughs, and explodes Oudh’s head between his jaws in a shower of blood.

Khanda swears as the un-Himachal bears down on him. The weight of its frogspawn flesh bowls him over, and it begins to savage his armour, tearing away at synth-skin with gibbering mania. It presses down on broken ribs that grind against each other. He can feel the edges of his bones scraping against the outside of his lungs. Pain cores through his torso, sending his metabolic reactions into overdrive. Grunting, he kicks the technocyte monstrosity off with great effort and scrabbles to retrieve his Orthos.

 

The Rhino hasn’t been idle. He puts his sizeable bulk between the downed Excalibur and the creature, laying into it with the double-edge of the Scindo. With every vicious hack, the monster loses both temerity and form. It shrinks back, whispering in mad tongues. Black beetle-skin loses iridescence, muscles shrink. Bone knits back into human composition. Boils burst and the pus sloughs off the suit beneath in torrents of mucus.

 

It’s as if Himachal never turned.

 

Khanda is taking no chances. Combat drugs and overworked anabolic reactions propel him upwards and forwards. He tackles Himachal, if it is even still Himachal, to the ground.

 

“What. Are. You!” he screams as he pummels his Seneschal in the face. Half-formed words, in part animal, in part recognizable, gabber from Himachal’s mouth in grunts of protest. The first punch snaps Himachal’s neck violently to the side. The second caves in part of the forehead region. The third crazes a visor lens; the fourth cracks it open.

 

Inside, Himachal’s desperate eyes – once an amethyst shade – are a hideous, sick orange.

 

Khanda pauses. Silence suffocates the courtyard like still heat.

 

“Prop him up,” he says softly to the Rhino, who duly holds the dazed Himachal in position.

 

Khanda steps backwards and picks up his Orthos. Then he runs forward, and stabs. Cold Orokin metal enters Himachal’s midriff, shattering his solar plexus, and explodes from between his scapula in a generous spill of blood to pin him to the wall.

 

Three Tenno first entered the courtyard through the gateway. The only survivor out of the cell now falls to his knees in the blood-stained dust.

 

“Are you alright?” The Rhino asks tentatively.

 

Khanda turns to regard him. “Am I alright?” he repeats. “Nagpur City is falling around us as we speak. The Tenno Cells sent to contain the infection are failing. I just lost my entire squad. One of them, dead by the hand of his own brother. The other, once sworn to purity and shielded from the virulent clutches of the plague – turned into some…some thing.”

 

Khanda draws a deep breath. “So, to answer your question: no, I am not alright. Nothing is alright. Everything is all wrong. The universe has turned upside down.”

 

The Rhino, unsure of what to say, places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. His Scindo is still dripping gore. Himachal, still pinned to the wall, is beginning to moan. He sounds almost human again.

 

“What is your name?” Khanda asks.

 

“Bevulf,” replies the Rhino. “My name’s Bevulf. Castellan to Cell Nineteen, originally. They detached me to hunt down the Ancient that attacked you and turned him,” he gestures to the impaled Seneschal.

 

Khanda nods. “Do you have a ship, Bevulf?”

 

“A snub fighter, in orbit above the Kepler Line.”

 

“Help me break off the portion of the wall he’s pinned to, and bring it to the snub,” Khanda says.

 

“What do you hope to gain from that?” Bevulf questions.

 

Weary eyes narrow behind the Excalibur’s visor.

 

“Answers.”

The snub is wreathed in darkness. The only light, streaming sadly through the plas-steel observation window, comes from the fires of the burning planet far below. The metal beneath Khanda’s feet feels colder than the void.

 

“If it helps,” says Bevulf, sharpening the edges of a Skana in the far corner, “you should know that your Seneschal wasn’t the first to have turned. There were reports from other cells of operatives that similarly…mutated.”

 

Khanda stares at Himachal as he writhes in pain. The Orthos still impales him to the detached chunk of masonry, like a specimen in a laboratory pinned to a glass slide. The Castellan shakes his head slowly.

 

“What is this madness,” he murmurs. “Were we not immune to the plague?”

 

The whetting knife makes a piercing shrrk as it hones the edges of the Skana. It sounds, disturbingly, almost organic to Khanda. Like the scraping of feet in a dusty courtyard, or…

 

Or the crunch of bone as a maw from the darkest of man’s nightmares closes around Oudh’s head.

 

“We were supposed to be, originally,” Bevulf explains. Shrrk, shrrk, shrrk. “We are, after all, their flesh. The bio-tech used to build the first Warframes was a strain of the technocyte virus. Immunity was a given.”

 

Shrrk, shrrk, shrrk.

 

“And then?”

 

“And then the virus changed, as viruses always do. Sure, it took millennia, but the moment we decided to weaponize larger quantities to wipe out the Sentients, that opened the floodgates for the strain to…erupt. It’s not just hungry, it’s ravenous. It’ll stop at nothing to eat, and whatever it finds in its path that it cannot consume, it will evolve to do so.”

 

The Rhino strides over to look out the observation window. “We should’ve anticipated this from the start.”

 

“Some might say we did, in a way,” Khanda offers. “The first Tenno. Hayde –”

 

“We don’t speak his name anymore,” Bevulf snaps. “He was the first and only traitor. At least the ones that turned because of the plague never did so by conscious choice.”

 

“That was aeons ago,” says Khanda, “before even the Orokin era. There are those that speculate he went rogue because of the decision to use the technocyte in the production of the first Warframes.”

 

“Any man who attacks a Tenno is no brother of mine, whatever the reason,” rumbles Bevulf in a gravel tone that sounds like thunder. “And the Turncoat is still loose, out there amongst the stars. He preys upon weak or straggler cells, like some stalker in the void.”

 

Shrrk, shrrk, shrrk.

 

Bevulf turns to regard the struggling Himachal. “What will you do with this one?” he asks.

 

“He’s just as in the dark as we are. No explanations given in the last hour – only apologies.”

 

“I’m sorry, my lord,” rasps Himachal. “I never intended…”

 

“I think he’s gone,” Bevulf says.

 

“What happened, Himachal?” Khanda asks softly. None of the blood smearing Himachal’s mouthplate is his own, but the Castellan is no more able to execute his Seneschal than he is to shake off the bonds of brotherhood that tie the Cell together.

 

“The Ancient’s smoke got into the wound,” Himachal grits his teeth. “I could feel some kind of primordial darkness taking hold of my consciousness. I tried to fight it, but I wasn’t strong enough. Everything went black. And when I awoke –”

 

“You know there is only one option, Khanda,” Bevulf interrupts.

 

The Excalibur refuses. “There must be a way to cleanse him.”

 

Bevulf points to the Skana.

 

“Not that,” Khanda insists. “I won’t believe that he’s lost for good.”

 

“Look for yourself,” Bevulf gestures.

 

Khanda looks to the spread-eagled figure of his Seneschal. The harsh lighting of the fires from outside casts looming, writhing shadows on the decking of the snub. The silhouette belongs to neither man nor Warframe. It belongs to a monstrous Ancient.

 

Khanda recoils from the sight.

 

The Rhino walks over to Himachal’s miserable body. He dips the Skana in an adjacent pot of oil, and sets it alight. Fire licks down the blade in hungry, burning tongues.

 

“I’m sorry,” Himachal whispers again.

 

“I know.”

 

The Skana leaves a trail of smoke as it arcs down to cleave Himachal’s head from his shoulders.

There is no time to grieve. They anoint Himachal’s headless body in unguents, load it into an escape cask, and send it floating adrift in the dark of space. A quick burst of the snub’s incendiary cannons turns the Seneschal’s final resting place into a blazing funeral pyre.

 

The snub leaves the orbit of Earth. Himachal’s burning pod slowly winks away into the distance like a pinprick of light, outshone by the conflagrations that wrack the planet below. Cities aflame light up continents in death-knell succession.

 

Other ships in space, great Orokin destroyers, yaw and shudder as they pivot. The armada trains their guns on the planet below, swivelling massive cannons about. There is a grand majesty to them as they strain to turn – the slow movement of titans, purposeful as they are inevitable.

 

Khanda and Bevulf know what is happening. The plague has gone virulent. It has grown and consumed and grown some more, to shatter merely pandemic levels. The cities of Earth, one by painful one, are falling. The Tenno in orbit have no choice but to activate extermination protocols. The armada will shell and pummel the planet into a dead world, and hope that the nuclear winter will be too barren for anything to grow.

 

The necessary side effects may, of course, include humanity. Whatever can germinate from that arid wreck will never be truly human.

 

Laser cannons open up. They lance down into the planet fast and sharp. They stab at the soil with brilliant, virulent intensity, wiping and scrubbing the overrun face of Earth with incandescent judgement. Pillars of energy flense Earth in slow, concentric movements. There are still Tenno Cells on the surface.

 

Woodland burns. Mountains melt. Rivers and oceans condense into a heavy fog, visible from orbit, that settles over the ruins of cities. Millions – millions – are lost in those singular moments of arbitration.

 

“What now?” whispers Khanda. One hand grips the rail of the observation deck tight. The other is pressed against the window, as if he can somehow punch through and reach down to save those who could not get spacebound in time.

 

“The armada is moving,” Bevulf says, checking his helmet’s comm-net feed. “Some of them are heading for slits in real-time space. They’re making for the Void to escape the plague, but not all of them will get there in time.”

 

“Is that an order?”

 

The Rhino shakes his head. “There are no orders. The plague has broken the chain of command. More than half our generals are missing; the High Lords and the Council are lost. There’s no more military, no more government. It’s every Tenno for himself.”

 

Khanda turns away from the window. “We’re too far away to dock with the armada. We won’t make it to the Void.”

 

Bevulf nods. “We can still throw in our lot with the right-wingers,” he offers.

 

“The Order of the Lotus? Those extremists?” Khanda wrinkles his nose in distaste.

 

“They’re our best hope at surviving the breakdown,” Bevulf shrugs. “The Lotus are suggesting ancient hibernation pods, scattered across the galaxy. We’ll remain preserved in cryo-sleep until such time as our awakening is needed. I’m already getting confirmation from thousands of Cells that are going the route of the pods.”

 

Khanda sighs heavily. Blossoming infernos erupt from the surface of the ruptured Earth, thousands of kilometres below. Plumes of fire billow and race across tectonic faultlines, glowing molten with the heat of a sun. He wonders if the now-desolate wasteland below will ever see an Empire rise again.

 

“Is this the end, then?” he asks.

 

“It could be a new beginning,” Bevulf replies. “We have no other choice besides.”

 

“Then we’ll do it,” the Excalibur says. “Then we’ll sleep. Tell me where the nearest pods are located.”

 

“Terminus,” answers the Rhino. “A little asteroid, just off the planet Mercury…”

Only the link for this was in the thread, but...

Goodnight, Dad

 

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.

 

Kalenath

The Life of Vauban

He was whistling his favorite tune. He truly had no idea why it was called 'The Liberty Bell March' ((

)) but it was catchy and fun and he needed the diversion from the horrors. So much craziness going on. When Karl had asked him to join the clan that the Rhino had formed, Ric had jumped at the chance. Karl was a legend. A quiet and modest legend, but a legend. He had informed his former clan leader -who had been...ambivalent, Ric wasn't that well liked through no fault of his own.-and packed his meager things. Mostly unfinished projects.

He had not been prepared for what had greeted him on arrival. He had thought himself ready. What a fool. Nothing could have prepared him for what he had encountered. A Grineer(!), a cyborg medic, a human medic, a human tech and a human soldier had greeted him on his arrival at the dojo. Only three other Tenno had been in residence at that point. Will, Alicia and Two were good Tenno. Karl, called Karl Sensei by the others, had been patient as Ric had moved in and set up. Then Aeron had arrived and...well... Ric hadn't been sure about that. But then Jac! Then the tech had left and... His whistling faltered for a moment as he remembered what had happened to Mari. But he was smiling under his helmet as he recalled his last conversation with Cecelia. He shook his head a little, bemused by the thought -even now- of a talking, joking MOA. She liked 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' which was also a bit...disconcerting. He paused a voice sounded inside his head.

Multiple Biosignatures Detected. The Lotus said calmly. We have Infested incoming.

Well, duh, my dear. Ric said back, to no answer. It is an Infested ship. Well... To work then.

The other Tenno who had come with him on this mission looked at him oddly as he started to whistle again. He shrugged as he prepared.

"First... I summon the Bureau of Funny Walks!" Ric said as he dropped Tesla traps around one of the ramps leading up to the Orokin cryo pod his team was defending. The Frost who stood at the pod stared at him and shook his head slowly. "No one expects theSpanish Inquisition!" Ric said with a fake sneer as the first Charger jumped down and was hit by three different bolts of electricity, making it jerk and dance. Yes, it seemed to walk funny. Right before it keeled over, died and vanished. The Teslas started to cycle as other Infested charged.

A quick flip and Bastille surrounded the entire area as the walls came alive with leaping forms. Ric's Soma was rock steady as he found a good spot on some crates and picked off enemies with short, quick bursts. The Soma was a marvelous weapon. He joked on occasion that even a King might not find it amiss to carry one.

"Uh uh..." Ric said with snap as a huge form started to shamble up the ramp bridge tot the pod. The Ancient was heavily armored and Ric's soma wasn't that well equipped to handle armor. Yet anyway. He was fiddling with things in his limited spare time. He wasn't the marksman Aeron was, but he was no slouch either. He didn't really need to be. He threw an object. "Who would cross this bridge of death must answer me these questions three!"

The Ancient that was exuding green malfeasance ignored him and ran toward the pod. It hit the Bounce Pad and went flying. It would find it's way back up to the pod eventually, but it would take a while. Hopefully, the extraction team would have arrived and they would be gone by then. More Infested charged up the ramp and more went flying.

"Probably didn't know the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow..." Ric said mildly to the Frost who shook his head but continued to fire with his Boltor. "I am a knight who says 'Ni'!" He said as he picked off another Leaper with a precise three round burst from his Soma.

"You are crazy." The Frost's voice held admiration and worry in equal measure. "Oh no..."

Ric spun to see their two team mates being overwhelmed. The pair of Tenno -an Ember and a Volt- had been working as team to disrupt the enemy lines of attack. The Ember was down and the Volt was trying desperately to revive her. But Ancients were closing in.

" Do me a favor..." Ric said as he pulled a small object form one of his trap containers. "Thou shalt count to three. Thou shalt not count to four. Five is 'Right Out'!"

"Just do it!" The Frost cried as the Infested swarmed the other two Tenno. Ric shrugged and tossed the Vortex grenade into their midst. The Infested were suddenly pulled into a micro sized singularity, but due to their techno organic armor, the Tenno were unaffected.

"Have no fear, brother." Ric said quietly as silence descended on the battlefield. "The enemy are no match for the 'Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch'."

"You are crazy." The Volt said as he helped the Ember back to the pod.

"At least I didn't do what Bedivere would have suggested. I didn't make a Trojan Bunny." Ric said as his companions groaned. "But I do demand... a shrubbery!" He said with a lilt as a warning of another wave of Infested approaching sounded. He reset his traps and did a little jig.

 

"I have no intention of eating anyone." Ric said calmly. "Robin's minstrels are not here. At least it is not the Black Beast of Aaaaaaaargggggh. We have got this."

 

Zombie_Sprinklez

 

So help me Lotus, the second I am deployed on a Corpus vessel, that is where the merchant cult shall die!

 

There was something the merchant cult wanted, something within the precious city Ranger vowed to protect. He needed to be there as the city itself contained documents extremely valuable for the Tenno, but why the Corpus? Ever since he was deployed to find the Artifacts hidden deep within the city, Coprus spies had been intruding in, searching for something as well. They never really brought on a big onslaught, or army to attack anything, so the Tenno never interfered. Ranger knew that the merchant cult was planning something, but the Lotus had restricted him from any interference unless lives were at stake. The merchants were not nearly developed enough to cause havoc in such a place guarded by Elite Tenno warriors anyway.

 

As the artifact search continued, Ranger picked up an unknown signal on his radar that seemed to have breached the premises of the city. Armed and ready, Ranger went to find out just what this "unknown breach" was. A sick feeling churned in his stomach as he realized just what the threat was; an Orokin Battle vessel. Powerful and capable enough of destroying the entire city if need be. As the Orokin ship continued its path toward the city, it had become clear just what those greedy merchants were after: HIM. 

 

It had been known for a while that the Corpus had been after the Tenno in search of technology and power, but the artifact search had eluded this from Ranger's mind. And now,it seemed that they had made a deal with the Orokin so that they would destroy everything standing in their way of getting what they wanted.

 

"This is not the end... I vowed to protect this place with my life, and I will not allow them to take me and raid it for the secrets it holds." Dozens of Corpus and Orokin soldiers had already been deployed as Ranger stood before them. He was known for his expertise and mastery of the Vauban Warframe, and it would take a lot more than dozens to bring him down. Ranger knew this, but he still had to plan carefully as there was an entire ship full of soldiers at the enemy's disposal. 

 

Without hesitation, Ranger drew his Gram and charged at the army that lay ahead. As they desperately fired shots, Ranger slid and swung his blade in a spinning fashion, taking out many soldiers from the get go. To finish off the remaining enemies, Ranger activated a Bastille, trapping all those unfortunate to be standing near him. Seeing his trap was successful, Ranger pulled out his Kunai to finish off the enemies stuck in the Bastille. As he did this, more soldiers had been deployed. 

 

Ranger tried as best he could to finish them all off, and just when he thought he had won, something let out a loud, piercing roar. He turned, to see what kind of creature could make such a noise. Before he could even think, a giant monster-like arm whipped Ranger off his feet. As he slid across the ground, he got a better look of what he was up against. It was some sort of amalgamation that stood at least ten feet high. Despite the size and power of the creature, Ranger was not ready to give up.

 

He noticed that his suit had reached maximum energy, so he was ready to execute the final move. He jumped, and threw his ultimate power; the Vortex. As the creature was sucked in, Ranger wasted little time. He pulled out several Tesla's and threw them all out at once. The creature shuddered and spasmed as the Vortex and Tesla grenades did their work, but this was not going to be enough. Ranger pulled out his trusty Hek shotgun, got to an ideal distance, and began blasting away.

 

As Ranger blasted shells into the creature, it let out roars that got weaker and quieter every time it let one out. Ranger blasted all his ammo into the creature, and it was silent. When the Vortex cleared, the creature fell flat on the ground and wasn't getting back up. The Orokin ship began to retreat, and Ranger thought "I've done it!" Just as he was thinking this however, he noticed something blinking on the body of the creature. Ranger approached it, and he noticed that there was a triggered explosive device on what appeared to be the creature's torso. 

 

There wasn't much time before it detonated, so Ranger needed to act quickly. He struggled with defusing the bomb, as Orokin tech was extremely complicated, and this was something he had not seen before. With about ten seconds remaining until detonation, Ranger decided if he was going to die, he would die trying. The timer slowly counted down: 

 

10...9...8

 

"Come on!" Ranger thought, "There gotta be a way to do this!" 

 

7...6...5

 

As the timer reached 5, a hissing sound came from the back of his Vauban Warframe. His cryopod had been activated, and he was not the one to do it. As the cryopod quickly enclosed Ranger inside it, the thrusters were activated. Ranger began shooting off into space, and all he could do was merely watch as the city exploded to nothingness as he drifted into cryosleep.

 

GorgutzGunsmasha

 

The Cell - Rhino

 

Rhino stopped on its tracks and waited. He paused briefly to observe the TechnoCyte Virus-encrusted walls of the large room of the Corpus installation he and his cell was assigned to clear from the Infested with both fascination and disgust. Tiny moving pseudo-pods and bio-luminescent tendrils extended from the mold-like formations and grasped at the air, clearly alive. Excalibur gave him a single pat on his back, as if to remind him of the task at hand. "It is time." He added in a whisper as Rhino turned back to face him. Rhino drew his primary weapon of choice for this Extermination Mission, a Soma rifle, and rocked back the bolt in the lance-like firearm's receiver with a solid click.

 

The mysterious, yet familiar female voice spoke through the comms to the three Tenno in the Cell involved with the operation. "Multiple lifeforms detected. Infested incoming.".

 

Rhino didn't know who or what Lotus really was, but his meditative nature meant he always ruminated on it, if only in the back of his head, along with his lost memories and what little of them he managed to recover. But that wasn't the right time for such considerations. He pushed back his thoughts, and readied himself.

Mag, the other Tenno accompanying him during this mission, gracefully flung herself down the ledge of the metallic scaffolding from which the three of them were assessing the situation, silent but reactive as ever. Excalibur followed suit, diving mid-air and rolling on the floor once landing, extracting his Boltor.

 

With a loud thud, Rhino let himself fall behind them, starting to follow the tracks of his brethren looking for targets inside the facility. Their slicker warframes always proved to be faster than him, for some reason. Something he learned to counterbalance by timely sprinting and sliding among obstacles, a practice his fellow Excalibur always found peculiar and frequently teased him about.

Rhino's temperament was however mostly calm and collected when not involved in an assignment, and always dismissed the teasing at their Clan's Dojo knowing all-too well it was simply Excalibur's way of expressing his comradeship.

 

A good minute had already passed since the three-man Cell started venturing in the complex, when a nearby gate hissed open. The storage room the group was inspecting suddenly started to echo with the galloping sounds of running Infested. Mag opened fire from her Corpus-made Dera rifle, blue bolts of energy spraying in the direction of the mutated monstrosities. Excalibur's Boltor followed suit, in a crescendo of gunfire volume. Dozens of abominations disorderly running amok started to pour in in droves in the storage, thus prompting Rhino to add the fast, racketing burst of his Soma to the symphony of the firearm engagement. Punctured and oozing flesh, cauterized laser wounds and the lingering smell of the bodily fluids started to afflict the small savage horde as a result of the unending storm of fire from the Cell.

 

In mere dozens of seconds, the only sound filling the previously chaotic storage room became that of magazines and batteries being dropped and rifles reloaded. The amassed infected remains scattered around testifying the efficiency of the Cell's teamwork.

 

Excalibur took point. "Area cleared. We're moving in to sweep the next one." He stated in matter-of-fact tone over the communications channel.

"Very well. Proceed with caution." Replied the elusive woman on the other side.

 

Mag and Rhino followed Excalibur suit, each in their own distinctive way, along the maze-like structure of the facility: a Daedalus of hallways and corridors that entwined and twisted following whichever architectonic dictate the Corpus were so fond of. Maintenance shafts alternated large, temple-like areas, dotted by small, salvageable storage rooms in which the Cell paused from time to time. Contacts were few and easily dispatched.

 

Rhino alternated between firing his Soma at the charging Infested and charging into the fray himself with his Galatine firmly grasped by his strong hands, whereas Excalibur occasionally joined him in the melee with lighting fast, expert blows from his Cronus. Mag preferred to pick out her enemies from the large groups Rhino and Excalibur from a distance with her energy-spewing rifle.

 

It almost seemed that the three of them moved and acted like a perfectly organized team. And perhaps that could be considered true. On many occasions the three of them had been selected from their Clan by The Lotus to perform missions together, probably relying on the strong bond that had somehow formed between the initially undisciplined and poorly coordinated trainees they used to be.

 

Rhino sheathed his two-handed sword on his back, admiring his and his cellmate's handiwork. His eyes lingered on the brutally slashed bodies he and Excalibur had amassed. He always considered the Infested a worthy opponent: relentless, uncaring of fear or fatigue, driven only by a desire to face its enemies. In fact, he felt more at ease facing them than taking on the astute Corpus or the conceited Grineer.

 

An electronic beep coming from his communications array in his helmet brought him back to reality for a moment. “Seems like you have attracted more. Dispose of them as you please.” Said the female voice on the other side of the channel.

 

Mag averted her eyes from the freshly created mayhem to a nearby gate, large enough to let a Grineer excavator through. Scratching and wails were clearly audible from behind it.

 

Without a word, she simply turned towards the noise and shifted back into a combat stance. Rhino and Excalibur, on their part, merely walked to the sides of the still-closed gate, which, as indicated by the two neon-yellow panels, required simultaneous pressing of the keypads to be bypassed. Rhino and Excalibur wasted no time. The gate opened slowly, revealing another sea of Infested, this time accompanied by towering shambling figures, dragging long arms on the ground along with their twisted forms. Shrouded by clouds of toxic miasma, four of the shambling horrors started to charge forward, followed by dozens of four-legged clawed beasts and infected crewmen.

 

Excalibur glanced at Rhino, and Rhino could almost perceive the grin behind his helmet, the thought of which made him grin in response. “After you” He jauntily declared, quickly unsheathing his Cronus from his back.

 

As Mag's hands ceremoniously started to clasp the air with sparkles of electrostatic energy forming around them, Rhino's Warframe's muscular-enhancing system began to overload.

Edited December 13, 2013 by Piranah1

[Piranah1]

Still non-Aequitas, from page 38 onwards (discluding continued works)

 

065tdsa

The Ash moved through the Grineer Ship. Sure, there were plenty of them around, but that was the least of his troubles, with his trusty Shade behind him. That day, he was in a rush, and with good reason.

 

The assassination target is here, spoke the Lotus.

 

They really haven't updated that thing's dialogues, the Ash said to himself, Am i supposed to assassinate that?

 

Indeed, the twenty tons of mining equipment that laid in front of him would prove hard to kill, since they were never alive to begin with.

 

Just break it while no one's watching and let's move on, appeared as a message in the Ash's HUD.

 

I know Shade, i know, he answered as he charged a strike from his Galatine.

 

Indeed, this was one interesting Shade. If by interesting you mean smart, talkative, and annoying. The overclocked stealth Sentinel couldn't help but to be cautious to the extreme, as it was in the base of it's programming.

 

The machine was torn to bits as the Galatine struck with great force. Some Lancers came to investigate, but the Ash and the Shade were back in stealth, and heading towards their next two targets.

 

They soon located those, but there was a problem.

 

Darn, the shade said, we are in trouble now, they really packed this place up.

 

The large room made it almost impossible to get through undetected. And the fifteen or so heavies would make being detected a most punishing experience.

 

You say, fifteen heavies?, Ash said, as he had an idea.

 

I just want to state i disagree with this idea, the Shade said, anticipating what his master planned.

 

Remind me, when did you last agree with one of my ideas?, the Ash responded.

 

Point taken...

 

Then, Ash came out of his hiding spot and, at once, activated his Ultimate ability.

 

He became unaware of everything else, as he performed the tremendously fast sequence of movements required to perform a Bladestorm. It's a technique based of an ancient style of combat, far older than Tenno themselves, which was later adopted by the first users of the Ash warframe.

 

He moved between the enemies in a matter of a few heartbeats. With each stab of the wrist blades, he shifted his entire stance for the next execution as he relocated. He barely felt as he sliced and stabbed through steel, flesh and bone.

 

When he again became aware of his surroundings, he was back where he was before, the corpses that remained of the enemies being the only proof of his success, of his mere presence in the area.

 

I still hate that, the Shade said, interrupting what would have been a much deeper, existential thought.

 

Are all of you really so dependent, or is it just you, smartypants?

 

Didn't hear you complaining when i felt compelled to hide your rear...

 

The Ash and his Sentinel moved on, through the Hangar, up the cargo lift, and they arrived to where the two machines were. Then, the lights flickered, and they went off entirely.

 

Shade, offline, now, the Ash ordered, and the sentinel obeyed, shutting down all systems.

 

The room was pitch black. Only the warframe's energy, and the Galatine, as the Ash drew it, gave away some tiny flashes of blue light.

 

And right in front of him, within reach of his Galatine, a figure appeared, or so it was revealed by the dots of red energy that were present. This figure drew a Galatine as well, one lit by red energy.

 

The Ash closed his eyes. He disconnected the visual feeds of his HUD entirely. The fight was to be in the darkness, unseen.

 

Both of the figures, barely defined by their energy colors, advanced at once, as if obeying to a silent command.

 

The greatswords clashed, the warriors struggled and then they went back, to clash again. Mirrored in every strike, in every block. Neither of them saw one another, but they always met at the same spot. The sparks created by the metal were but another unseen light, briefly illuminating the struggle for no one to see.

 

They were evenly matched, and stood their ground with ease. Each action had an equal, and opposite reaction. A perfect balance that could not be disturbed, as they fluently transitioned between combinations.

 

Then, at once, they made a move. Flashes of red and blue intertwined, as they teleported towards one another, and turned around, slashing at the place where the other one stood, the tips of their blades barely touching. They stood still for a second, and they they kneeled, respectfully.

 

As the Ash reactivated his warframe's vision, the lights came back, and where his opponent had been, was what appeared to be a series of containers. He picked them up, and his warframe's systems quickly identified them.

 

Fang Prime, huh? Not really my thing, but considering how long it took you to get these, i might as well...He said to himself.

 

Shade, get back up, we have to go, he said then, and the Sentinel responded immediately, initiating it's systems.

 

He didn't need to hear the Lotus as she told him the ship was self destructing. After all, his brother was always like him in some things, like not leaving any traces.

As for the other things... Keeping work and family separated always seemed like common sense as far as the Ash was concerned. Not that it was easy to do, not by any definition.

 

NinjaSylvy

It was cold. He had been warned that the cryogenic generator of this ship had malfC***ioned, but he never got used to the cold. Even as he punched the ventilation shafts soft metal grill off and landed to the ground with a soft "thud", the open space only gave off silence and promise of freezing death. Two more "thuds" sounded behind him and he knew who they were, though not by name. Rising up, he flexed his cramped muscles and shook his head to clear off the dizzyness. Crawling through tight spaces was not for him, for he had accustomed to running free without bounds. But the Lotus's wish was the law and he was here to do her bidding. Looking back with his mortis mask, he saw his companions looking at him, weapons cradled and ready to unleash death. One was flimsy in shape and boasted an bright orange crest over its head. He sensed its inner mechanics powering up, the pyromanic "Ember" pattern readying itself to counter the cold away. The other one was broader and possessed an cloak like armor,  edged with gold and boasting higher and more intricate system than others of its kinda. An prime variant of the "Frost". One of the originals and most powerful ones, though still tied with bonds of trust to him.

 

The looked at him and nodded simultaniously. His frame was slim and had exoskeleton like qualities on top of it, looking like he was wearing an deceased foes remains on himself. "Nekros", was what his suit was called. He raised his assault rifle to his arms and turned around to face his objective. His muscles tightened and killer instinct flooded his mind. The other two behind him pulsed warm emotions to him, saying that they were ready, without a word spoken. He hunched and launched himself forward, his brother and sister following close behind him. The "Djinn" pattern sentinel flew close to him, its dragonic features well known to him as an sure promise of death to those who would defy its master. The rusted and crude hallway rang from his footsteps and he knew that they wouldnt be left unnoticed. "Enjoy the moment of peace", he pulsed into his fellow warriors minds, receiving similar tides of emotions back. The female like one was eager to kill. He had no doubt of it. Today would be an good day to shed blood.

 

Entari0

It was quiet. The shade on Saichra’s head hummed quietly, barely perceptible in the ominous silence. Her galatine shined on her back as she raced to the reactor with a corrupted cylinder in one hand, and a vasto in the other.

 

“Wake up!” she hissed at her shade, which promptly began to float over her left shoulder, and quickly cloaked her form. Not ten seconds later, a platoon of corpus rounded the corner, looking right at where she stood, cloaked. “Don’t stand so close to each other,” she smirked as she started focusing her energy to crush their bones into dust. Her vision blurred for a moment, just as the crewmen and moas in front of her floated into the air and, with a gut wrenching scream, they were compressed into spheres of flesh and metal. Then there was silence once more.

 

“Keep moving, no detection from enemy sensors.” No emotion was visible beneath the Mag’s clouded mask, but there was a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Her shields were weak from the ice, and the last thing she needed was the ship to be on high alert.

She checked her displays inside her helmet. There were two more platoons of crewmen between the reactor and her, and both had technicians. She grimaced. The tech’s supras would tear through her shields like nothing else, and their rigid Kevlar armor would make crushing them ineffective. If only there was a Volt here. Then she saw the map, and a devilish grin curled her lips.

 

The platoon was directly in front of her, but her shade was hiding her from view. The corrupted cylinder was placed on the ground with barely a sound, and she slowly unhooked the strun wraith from her back. She moved to the threshold of the room, and shot a single shell at the window. It shattered, and the blast door closed just as she saw the whole platoon pulled with the air into the harsh vacuum outside. Twenty seconds. The door opened, and her heart stopped. There, at the door, was a tech, trained squarely at her. Silence. Time seemed to slow to a snail’s pace, as the supra whirred to life, and plasma began to spray from the muzzle. The hall rang with the sound of gunfire, Saichra’s strun wraith tearing into the tech’s body, but to seemingly no avail. Then her gun clicked, and there was silence. Thump. A body hit the floor. Seemingly in a state of shock, the tech was lying on the floor, his helmet barely covering a now blood covered face. His eyes grew wide as Saichra took the heavy sword off of her back, and lifted it above her head. The last he saw was the bloodied Mag bring the sword down toward his neck. She hefted the cylinder, and continued to the reactor.

In another five minutes, she was off the ship and heading home.

 

CommanderCorgi

Alexander squeezed a blast from his Strun Wraith into the chest of a Corpus Crewman, blowing it wide open from the buckshot as well as launching the corpse into a bulkhead. With a weak groan, the crewman slid to the ground, lifeless, a red trail following the body's path from the wall to the floor.

 

It has been days of nearly non-stop ship to ship combat. Corpus literally fell by the thousands with each passing day to his hand alone, not including the other members of his clan. Alexander has long since lost track of time, the past few days having become a long blur to him as he fought across many combat zones, yet to seemingly no avail as the battle lines barely budged in favour of the Grineer. The only things keeping him going were the constant stream of stimulants pumped into his body by his Rhino warframe, as well as his single-minded determination to his goal. He would not let a single Tenno fall victim to the Corpus machinations - to the horrors that Alad V had in store for his brethren in cryosleep.

 

A shiver ran down his spine, even through the combat high and the drugs, as he remembered coming across the grisly remains of Tenno "experimentation" after the Corpus unveiled their Fusion Moa.

 

The tickling sensation against his iron skin from a Crewman's Dera caught his attention as he turned to face the Corpus foolish enough to actually believe he could ambush him with that puny pea-shooter. Alex guffawed with manic laughter as he sprinted towards the Corpus, who continued to fire at him futilely as his feet shook the ground he stomped across.

 

"Piu piu piu!? I'm gonna make you go crunch crunch crunch, RHINO SMASH!" He bellowed as he activated his Charge, pinning the poor Crewman between him and the wall. "I'd tell you that this won't hurt a bit, but I'd be lying. This is going to hurt a LOT!" He cackled, pressing the entirety of his weight against the Crewman, causing him to hellishly shriek in agony as Alex felt a sickening crunch against his shoulder, transversely bisecting the Crewman at the waist. "On ancient Earth, they had a specific name for the crime I'm about to commit upon your souls. They called it assault with a bodily weapon!" He yelled as he picked up the still living upper torso of the Crewman, holding it over his head as he charged into another skirmish between his temporary Grineer allies and some more soon-to-be-dead Corpus.

 

He hollered a battle cry as he jumped over a railing into the fight below, screaming torso in tow. The wailing of the half-Corpus was stopped with each impact of the body against other Corpus, as Alex swung the torso around like a hammer, flinging blood all over the room. "Hey Corpus, check this out! I guess your friend's half the man he used to be!" He cackled, sending each Corpus he hit with the body flying into objects, other Corpus, and even the Grineer, who were more than happy to viciously lay into their new friends, sinister chuckles accompanying each new toy they received.

 

A short time and many dead Corpus later, Alex asked his unwilling captive a question. "Hey buddy, you still with me? Wasn't that fun?" He inquired. "Hey, you still with me? Playtime's not over." Frowning at the torso's silence, he set it on the ground, ripping off the front of the boxy helmet, to reveal a long-dead pale face, eternally frozen in an silent scream of utter despair.

 

"Aw, finished already? I think I broke him," Alex uttered to nobody, as he raised his foot and crushed the head with a squish. He shook his head in disappointment and turned away, walking away from the horrific scene that was this last battle, as he left a room filled with blood and bodies behind.

 

On to the next battleground.

 

What felt like seconds later, Alex found himself neck-deep in a quagmire of another battle, with some fellow Tenno and Grineer on one side, and a Corpus force on the other. He took aim at a Moa and grunted with frustration as his Strun Wraith clicked empty. He ran a split-second inventory diagnostic and tossed it aside haphazardly as his HUD revealed that he was out of ammo. He reached into his thigh holster and grabbed his last two kunai, tossing them with deadly precision into the Moa's vital areas, quickly shutting down the machine.

 

He then spotted a trio of three Elite Crewmen and charged at them, screaming like an enraged berserker as he reached onto his back, grabbing his Dual Zorens. With a grunt, he heaved the two axes into the air, both axes meeting their intended targets as the two axes spun right into the heads of the two Crewmen, sending them to the next life promptly, as he rammed his shoulder into the last Crewman in lieu of activating his Charge. He wanted to keep enough energy in reserve to instantly reactivate Iron Skin in case his current coating was completely stripped from his Warframe. The two of them rolled across the floor of the installation together, eventually stopping with Alex on top in full mount, the helpless Crewman writhing underneath the weight of the Rhino. With a mighty roar, Alex ripped the boxy helmet of the Elite off, tossing it aside as he stared into the horrified face of the Elite, screaming and pleading for mercy as he shook his head vigorously in denial.

 

"Mercy...you want mercy? Think of the Tenno your masters have used as guinea pigs before you beg for clemency. Think of my brethren you have in cryosleep even now, totally unaware of what they're about to undergo, or what's being done to them as they slumber. THIS, is what I think of your whole organization!" He screamed in utter rage as his raised his fist and began to slam it into the bare face of the Crewman.

 

Punch after punch, the smack of armour pounding into flesh reverberated across the battlefield as Alex lost track of the brutality he was unleashing. He didn't even realize that all that remained of the Crewman was a primordial mush of bone and blood until he heard a voice from far away call his name repeatedly, and a pair of hands pull him off the body.

 

"Alex, I've been looking for you for the past 12 hours! Why didn't you respond to my comms?" He turned to face the familiar helmet of Keiji, his clanmate utilizing an Excalibur warframe. Alex frowned and ran a quick scan of his Warframe's subsystems. "Honestly, K? They've been down for the longest time. I was starting to wonder why it was so quiet..." He trailed off. Keiji shook his head, "You've been in the field for the past 48 hours straight. I know you're no stranger to long assignments, but with how intense this war has been, it's honestly more than you should have on your plate. C'mon man, let's get you out of here, Hadrian's been going stark raving mad looking for you."

 

Alex remained silent and didn't complain as Keiji took his arm and slung it across the Excalibur's shoulders, supporting him as they made for the extraction shuttles, as four Tenno ran past them towards the battlefield to relieve their post.

 

After the shuttles docked with one of their clan's cruisers waiting for them behind an asteroid, Alex sat in a bare bones minimalist room, with a desk, bathroom, a bed, and nothing else as the cruiser began its trek back to their Dojo.

 

He unsealed his helmet and took it off, setting it beside him as he ruminated on this war and what drove him, along with the rest of the clan, to align themselves with the Grineer. For Alex, it was purely personal reasons.

 

For the past year after being awoken from cryosleep, he drove himself to the brink of death from exhaustion as he searched the entire Origin system for one cryopod. Alex had personally rescued many Tenno from a horrible fate, but had yet to find the one Tenno he was desperately trying to find before the Grineer, Corpus, or worse, the Infestation did. Every time he rescued a female Tenno and it wasn't her, he literally felt his heart drop through his stomach and a bit of hope die each time.

 

His memories drifted back to the last evening he spent with her before the start of the cataclysm that lead to the demise of Orokin Society and forced the entirety of the remaining Tenno into cryosleep. The two of them sat together atop a grassy knoll at night, staring up into the stars they would be voyaging into the very next morning, fingers interlocked as they gazed into the heavens. "Hey...whatever happens. Promise me you'll find me when this is all over," Alex heard her whisper, as she laid her head against his shoulder. "Eleanor," Alex whispered back, "I will search for a hundred lifetimes, and I won't stop until I've found you."

 

That night was the last time he ever saw her, and after many lifetimes spent in cryosleep, he has still yet to find her. The doubts and fears started to plague at his mind. What if he was too late? What if she was one of the Tenno the Corpus had recently "acquired?" What if the Grineer lost, thus sealing her fate? What if he was far too late and she was already a brutal victim of Corpus experimentation, long before he had awoken? What if her cryopod had failed over the ages?

 

As these dark thoughts raged like a maelstrom through his soul, the combat high and his warframe's drugs started to wear off, and the memories of the last two days came to the forefront of his mind, especially how he had acted with the torso and right before Keiji had pried him off the corpse he beat into a literal pulp.

 

Alex instantly grabbed a trashcan and brought it up to his mouth as he retched into it, bile and little else being expelled from his mouth as his vomiting quickly became dry heaves. He wiped his mouth and set the trashcan back onto the floor, lamenting his current situation. His lamentations were interrupted by a beeping from the desk-mounted comm unit. With a resigned sigh, Alex reached over and hit the answer button.

 

"Alex here," He droned. "Alex, is that you? It's been a crazy few days buddy, it's good to hear your voice," Came Hadrian's familiar tone, slightly crackling with static due to the distance between Mars and their Dojo.

 

"What's up, Hadrian? This can't be a social call," Alex queried. "It isn't, but I wasn't too worried. I could still monitor your vitals even though your comms were shot. Keiji told me what happened, and I know why you're taking this war harder than most. Even so, you've been in the field for 48 hours. Report back to the Dojo for 24 hours of rest." Alex opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly cut off. "Alex. We'll find her. You're no good to her dead. Get some rest, man. Guillermo's just gotten back as well and he's cooking up a warm meal for you." The Rhino smiled at the idea of the Frost's cooking. The man was a culinary genius. He was capable of making fabricated rations into gourmet exquisiteness.

 

"I hear you smiling from here, Lex. Let some of the others take over for now. I haven't forgotten what Eleanor means to you, man. We'll find her."

 

Alex nodded sedately, "Alex out," He trailed off, ending the call as he lay on the simple bed with his hands underneath his head, staring up at the blank ceiling.

 

"Ellie," He whispered, as he drifted into sleep.

 

But it would not be a peaceful one, as those dark thoughts that plagued him earlier would take form in his dreams...

After returning to the dojo, Alex staggered out of the cruiser and stumbled towards his quarters. He didn't acknowledge anybody he passed by on the way there, still shaken by his nightmares. Once inside, he promptly disengaged out of his warframe and flopped onto his bed face first, silently pleading with his brain to cooperate before passing out right then and there, still in his circuitry suit.

 

8 Hours later, he roused on his own and stepped out of bed groggily, meandering on over to the bathroom to take a long overdue shower. After washing the accumulated filth and stepping into some loungewear, he sauntered on over to the mess hall, nodding amicably at anybody he passed, suited or unsuited. He walked into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by the heavenly smells of Guillermo's cooking. "Lex, took you long enough, sleeping beauty! I knew you'd take a nap first, so I figured I'd cook later!" Came the boisterous voice of the Frost, also in loungewear, working over the old-school stove they uncovered in some wreckage.

 

"Guillermo, my man. What're you cooking up for me?"

 

"Hell, just some macaroni and cheese. Comfort food for a long fight. 48 Hours, dude? I knew you've seen and done some things, but even the toughest of us haven't gone that hard before. Beer's on the table, take a seat already," He commanded, and the Rhino complied. "Alcohol, even during a war?" Alex raised an eyebrow.

 

"It's happy hour somewhere. Even the Grineer have beer, my man," Was the Frost's retort. Defeated by the Frost's impeccable logic and wisdom, Alex let out a sigh and dug into the scrumptious concoction as soon as the Frost set it down in front of him. Guillermo took his own seat and dug into his own portion, letting out a bark of laughter. "I've outdone myself again!" He bellowed, digging into the food with a whoop.

 

After the meal ended and they were slamming back the remnants of their drinks, Alex looked up at the Frost to ask him a question. "Gui, dude...where does Hadrian want us next?"

 

The frost was silent for a moment before answering him. "Welp, Hadrian wants us to go back in where you were last...that place has not budged at all and he's expecting the stalemate to stay there for the next 24 hours. Unless that changes, we're headed there tomorrow. Are you gonna be okay with that?"

 

Without missing a beat, Alex answered him, "Honestly? I just want to find Ellie. As far as I know, every Corpus body is gonna bring me one step closer to finding her, dead or alive - I can't have this mystery running around my head anymore or it's going to screw me up like it did yesterday."

 

The Frost nodded in solemn acknowledgement, "I hear that. Not knowing is just as bad as any torture the Corpus have in store."

 

And on that sobering note, the two of them sat in silence for a while.

Alex nodded to Guillermo as the Frost sat on a crate, his Latron across his lap as he finished field-stripping the weapon, now having reassembled the rifle. "So, how's your day been?" The Rhino teased, smirking at his comrade behind his helmet. The Frost gave a lackadaisical shrug as he reached over onto the ground to grab some polish, a rag, and make his Latron shinier than that merchant Darvo's buck teeth.

 

"Oh, y'know - the same ol' thing, killing Corpus, disassembling MOAs, no big deal or anything," Alex extended a fist, and the Frost reciprocated the gesture, bumping their metallic fists together.

 

"Welp, six hours down, another 18 to go. You haven't been out here yet. You sure you up to the challenge, kid?" Alex taunted.

 

"Don't call me kid, I'm older than you," Guillermo retorted immediately.

 

"Whatevs," Shrugged the Rhino, turning to return to the front lines. "You coming or not, old man?"

 

"I'm coming, keep your panties on," The Frost grouched back at Alex, tossing his polishing kit aside and rising to his feet. With his Latron in his grasp, he nodded at Alex, as the two of them returned to the Spears defense line, where the Grineer were attempting to hold against a Corpus counterattack and Hadrian asked them to hold the line and push the Corpus out of the sector.

 

"Hey Alex, fifty thousand creds that I kill more than you."

 

"Double that, make it a hundred g's flat."

 

"Done."

 

And the two were off to the races.

"I hate you."

 

"..."

 

"...No, I seriously hate you right now."

 

Alex glared at Guillermo from behind his helmet as the two of them ducked behind cover in a Corpus installation, covered in a snowglobe as the frozen orb was pelted by a constant barrage of Corpus fire.

 

"This is totally not my fault!" Guillermo defended himself

 

"How can you say such a thing!? Besides the fact that the snowglobe is going to give me a case of literal blue balls, you just HAD to send Alad V a Doge meme image because of his robo dog!" Alex screamed, causing some of the Corpus firing at them to look at one another in confusion, scratching their boxy heads.

 

"...Do you mean robo doge?"

 

The barrage stopped completely for a moment, due to the loudness of the reverberation of Alex's gloved palm smacking Guillermo upside the head.

 

The Corpus were very, very confused.

 

Stefanovich - Breaking forth wall a bit

As he entered the mysterious place, Ash felt a slight bit of nausea from the warping process. He steadied himself, drew in a deep and meaningful breath, and ventured into the bowels of the desolate, ancient place. His Braton Prime glimmering in the last remnants of light seeping into the room, Ash stared up at the massive hallways overrun by the dull, age old Infestation. He pictured in his mind a frightful image of this once prideful ship being converted into the mindless slaves that now wander the hallways.

 

Screaming, confusion, and anxiety filled the air as hopeless Orokin lost their souls and bodies to the abominations as they mutated before their very-...

 

He broke free of his depressing imagery and began making his way through the initial chambers. "The once thriving Orokin fell prey to the Infestation here long ago," The Lotus calmly explained. "Be wary, Tenno..." He listened loosely as he had a firm grasp on the consequences of failing this task. His companions needed this artifact, or their elaborate operation back in the Sol System would be for a useless cause. They had their mission, he had his.

 

He struggled his way through the devastated remains of the chamber as he clambered his way through the repulsive Infestation. Ions old mutation took hold of the very structure and integrity of everything it touched, converting it to a plant-like system of intertwined limbs of grotesque life, alien to anything currently present in their home system. Navigating his way through the carnage, Ash found the next areas little more than another obstacle course as he made his swift and almost blissful way through the still operating laser beams fluctuating throughout the desolate fortress and the puddles of electrified water that had been rotting away entire rooms. These Orokin made sure their security measures remained online as long as possible to destroy any Infestation that tried to leave the facility in an attempt to spare neighboring ships of the Infestation.

 

His first contact with the creatures was just a few minutes into this ordeal, and Ash took every step with great caution as he did not intend to start any unnecessary engagements. He grew ever closer towards the mutilated husks and could hear the gurgling of the desecrated flesh as he cloaked his way past them, wondering to himself if they could smell Tenno flesh through the Warframe itself. He soon found his answer as he silently slipped past the Infested group without catching any unwanted attention.

 

Ash stared up in amazement as he absorbed the vastness of the next room. At least as large as an entire Corpus Scouting Ship, this room was swarming with enlarged trunk-like structures piercing in and out of various walls around the macro sized observatory. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye, peeking through a small, circular windowpane, a fellow greeting from a galaxy familiar with every Tenno, The Milky Way. "Riiight, there," he whispered to himself, as he raised his finger and pointed to the Earth's location and his fellow Tenno. He snapped back into reality as he felt a subtle tremor beneath his feet. Alarmed by this unusual occurrence, Ash was quickly looking for an answer to this sudden shaking, only to find a unfortunately familiar and unsettling face towering over him.

 

"Sooo, you like to play Dark Sector, eh?!"

 

Completely dumbfounded, Ash slowly replied, "What?"

 

"Ahh, c'mon! I researched your Wiki page and EVERYTHING! I KNOW you like Dark Sector!"

 

Still completely and utterly dumbfounded, Ash said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Ok, look. There's this thing called Dark Sector and it tells the story of-...you know what, never mind. LET'S FIGHT, ASH!"

 

Ash, locked in a state of confusion, said, "How did you even get here?!"

 

The mysterious figure spoke once more. "DERF ANYO KNOWS NO BOUNDS when it comes to 'tagg'n along' with my best buddies, the Tenno!"

 

"Why do you even care? I'm just here to retrieve an Orokin Fusion Cell to power our Orok-"

 

"SILEEENCE! I need not an explanation for your business on this Orokin Derelict ship, all I need, IS YOUR BLOOD!"

 

"...Whatever." Ash cloaks himself in the thick shroud of smoke and walks away trying to comprehend what just happened.

 

Coughing from the smoke bomb, Derf Anyo chokes and desperately cries out, "W-wait! I didn't even get to show you my Shurikens!"

 

Derf tosses one of his custom made, limited edition Paper Mache Shurikens with it's red party streamer tail into the air and watches hopelessly as it immediately drops off into the treacherous pit below. Derf Anyo looks gloomily into the deep pit as he hears Ash quietly snickering as he leaves the observatory.

 

Derf proudly states, "That was just a prototype! Got more babies where that came from!" Derf proceeds to follow Ash but face plants as he trips over his untied shoelaces and stands up only to see that his Tenno "pal" has abandoned him...

 

FatViking

Weylon sighed a breath of relief as he entered his snub fighter, finally relaxing after a tough 5 hour mission along with 3 other Tenno. He had no idea who the other Tenno were as none of them had spoken and only really communicated with body language such as pointing or changing stance. After all, the only thing they had been doing was killing Corpus troops, Moas and Ospreys to aid in the war that was going on at the moment. He chuckled as the snub fighter left the battlefield and moved to the ''Station'', a constantly moving place where Tenno without a clan would go to restock on ammo and supplies and to accept jobs offered to them by the Lotus.

 

in the snub fighter Weylon cringed in pain as he looked at his leg, a burn wound was clearly visible through the hole in his suit, although the nanites had already begun repairing his suit and healing him. ''so i guess i got hit'' Weylon thought as he watched in fascination at the nanites doing what they did best.

 

He arrived at the Station 6 hours later, and in just a few seconds he was on his way to the armory, as the battle had left him quite dry on ammunition. As he walked towards the armory, an Excalibur ran up to him. ''Hello there milady, the name is Vaughan, can i be of assistance to you in any way?'' the Excalibur quickly asked, to wich Weylon responded:''I am no lady, although i am Nyx.'' Weylon could almost see the poor Excaliburs eyes widen after this revelation. ''But how can a man fit inside a Nyx?'' asked Vaughan, suprising Weylon. ''Well...uhm...you see, it is a very painful process, as your entire body is transformed to fit the specs of the frame, and when a man is forced to use a female specced frame, it begins with the crushing and reconstruction of his bones and then re-sizing most of the organs. This process seems to take a few years due to the pain you feel but in reality it only takes a few seconds before it is complete.'' Weylon explained to the young Excalibur as they walked towards the armory. ''same thing would happen if i were to enter a male specced frame in the form i got now.'' As they arrived at the armory, Vaughan handed Weylon a piece of paper covered in plastic.''What's this?'' Asked Weylon. ''It's my contact information, if you would ever need company on a long mission.'' Vaughan stated as he started walking away. ''Or if you would just like to chat, i'm relatively free most of the time seeing as i don't have many friends.'' The last statement gave Weylon a tiny shiver of joy.

 

He had finally made a friend.

 

back-story time!

__________________

 

''Wake up Tenno, you are in danger.''

 

Weylon didn't want to wake up. it was too early.

 

''Wake up, or you will loose your life!''

 

Weylon opened his eyes. What he saw both stunned and frightened him as he realized he was no longer in his cryo-pod but rather in a room painted in sterile silver color. He quickly sat up, only to realize he no longer had his Excalibur prime on. He frantically searched around the room for any sign of his precious frame only to find its helmet in pieces.

 

''They removed your frame, but do not fear, I am picking up signs of another frame in this facility.'' A voice suddenly said.

 

''Who are you?''

 

''All will be explained later, you will have to move quickly if you want to survive. A covert-agent has placed a map and a weapon on the table in front of you. Pick it up and move to the marked room. A new frame awaits you there, although you might not like what frame it is.''

 

''Move quickly, huh? I wonder who runs this place.'' Weylon thought as he quickly and silently moved to the marked room, armed only with a simple heat dagger laying in exactly the spot the voice had said it was. Luckily he had only been two rooms away and not a single person, camera or droid had been anywhere near, according to his digital map. He opened the door and walked in, only to be faced with what happened in this facility. In the middle of the room there was a large examination bench with a female Tenno lying on top of it and Weylon, out of ages old training, checked her pulse only to find nothing. Quickly remembering what he was doing in the room, he started searching for the frame, only to be met by a Nyx frame.

 

''Well, I always did say you had to try new things before you died.'' Weylon silently chuckled as he started putting the Nyx on. After placing the helmet on, a few messages displayed.

 

''Warning, new user registered. New users name?''

 

''Weylon.''

 

''Registering....Registered. User body not optimal for this frame, begin conversion? Yes, no?''

 

''Yes.''

 

''Conversion started, user body optimal in 5 seconds.''

 

Weylon was surprised as he felt the nanites in the suit cutting their way into his body and started working on making his body suitable for a Nyx. The process felt like an eternity as the nanites kept him conscious and refused to let him go into shock as they worked, crushing his bones, re-sizing his organs, shrinking while also strengthening his muscles and forming a female shape out of a male body. When the conversion finally stopped, Weylon took a few seconds to adjust to his new body as his whole center of balance had changed. After finally working all the kinks that came with a more feminine out, he looked on his map only to see 2 red dots moving towards him although they thankfully were still out of hearing range. Wasting no time, Weylon immediately started searching for something to escape through, thankfully finding an open air-duct somewhat hidden in the corner. Climbing into the air-duct wasn't as easy with the new body but Weylon managed somehow to accomplish the task.

 

''Tenno, make your way to these coordinates.''

 

''Will I then get to know WHAT THE F*** IS HAPPENING?'' Weylon silently shouted, only to receive silence.

 

''At least this will be over soon.'' Weylon thought as he made his way to the extraction point. ''Hopefully I will get some explanation.''

 

Eggzodiya

 

"Our intel indicates that there is someone on board this ship who is vital to the enemy's cause. We need that subject brought back alive," said Lotus, her voice echoing through the Tenno's communication unit.

 

Vasto, check. Skana, check. Empty primary weapon slot for the reason of traveling light? Also check. Excalibur took in a silent breath as he detached himself from his ship and entered a life-sized tube pipe that led to the enemy warship's storage unit room. But before kicking down the malfunctioning air vent fan located just below his landing point, the Tenno checked his radar for any signs of life, particularly the Grineer who were said to have owned the vessel.

 

"Keep going, no detection from the ship's sensors," Lotus said, as if reading the Tenno's mind. Excalibur gave off a slight nod and dismantled the mostly broken vent fan, carefully placed it to the side, and hopped down into the storage room. Checking his HUD every so often, Excalibur creeped past the storage room and into an elevator up ahead, manning the controls to send him deeper into the space ship.

 

As the elevator slowed, indicating that it was soon arriving to the Tenno's designated floor, a few red dots came up Excalibur's radar - two of them were right beside the elevator door, while the third was patrolling very close by. Excalibur watched as the patrolling guard neared the two other guards. He gripped the hilt of his blade with one hand, slowly drawing it from its sheath. As soon as the door opened, the silent soldier focused some of his suit's power into the Skana and raised it in the air.

 

The blade flashed an unbearably bright white light that blinded the three patrolling guards before they knew what was going on. Dropping their automatic rifles to the floor, the Grineer grunts were powerless to the quiet and precise strikes that began from the back, or side, of their necks and out the other end. Excalibur noticed a sturdy, rectangular, bulwark that was freed from the grasp of a dead Shield Lancer.

 

"Leave it, Tenno. That shield will only slow you down," came the overbearing sound of Lotus's voice, but Excalibur paid no heed, picked up the shield, and wore it on his back. Saryn and borrowed his Dethcube unit, a few days prior, and returned from his mission without it. A new one was being rebuilt, but it would take some time to match it to Excalibur's specifications. His sentinel was responsible for watching his back, so the enemy's metal accessory would have to do.

 

At that moment, a pair of footsteps came up from behind him. His hand made its way to the handle of his revolver, but his radar showed no hostility. Instead, there was an ally.

 

"So much for traveling light," said another woman's voice. Excalibur sighed under his Avalon helmet and relaxed his hand from the Vasto. "Lotus was worried, so I volunteered to be deployed as your back-up."

 

Excalibur remained quiet as he proceeded through the warship, wary of any hostilities that may pop up into his HUD.

 

"What? Still not talking to me? If it's about your sentinel, how many times do I have to apologize?" asked the poison mistress. Excalibur ignored her, shaking his head at her antics. Before she could take another step, however, Excalibur tackled her onto a nearby pillar, under a video camera; one hand was just slightly above her bossom, and the other on her waist. Their Warframes were pressed together - titanium against titanium.

 

Before Saryn could utter even a groan, Excalibur drew the Vasto and fired it at the surveillence camera, effectively shutting it down. Because of the Suppress mod installed into his gun, the bullet left the barrel of the sidearm without so much as a peep. The hand gun was returned to its holster, on Excalibur's hip.

 

"If you want to leave your hand there," said Saryn, her helmet pointed on the hand pressed against her chest. "I won't stop you, Ex. You wouldn't take my credits as payment for your sentinel's accident, but there are other ways for me to pay you... if you know what I mean."

 

As Excalibur left the somewhat daring position, turning his back on the female Tenno, Saryn latched on his back - her arms were wrapped around his shoulders.

 

"Come on. All work and no play makes Ex a very dull fiance. We're warriors, but we're humans too. You haven't laid a finger on me since after that skirmish in Europa," she said. Excalibur's mind wandered to the moment that Saryn spoke of. The lights were dimmed and they had hours to themselves after wiping out an armada of Corpus. They could have spent their time simply waiting for extraction, but time is long when spent doing absolutely nothing.

 

"That was almost five weeks ago, Ex, and I refuse to wait until after this mission is over for you to pay some attention to me," she said, retracting her helmet.

 

Saryn placed a finger on and pressed a very narrow button just over the other Tenno's spinal cord, slowly retracting his armor. She let out some carbon dioxide from her mouth, hitting the surface of Excalibur's now exposed shoulder. The hardened soldier took a deep sigh and yanked the woman, as well as himself, from the empty corridors of the Grineer warship. After returning to the storage room, Excalibur closed the door and shot a bullet into the control panel, locking the door shut.

 

Both Tenno threw their weapons aside as their Warframe armors began to slowly retract into a collar that was worn around their necks. The armor was digitized, eliminating the mass and weight, so only the information was stored into the collar's memory bank. This made for easy access into and out of the armor.

 

"We're doing this on enemy territory? You sure know how to woo a girl, don't you?" asked Saryn, laying herself down on the cold metal floor.

 

Her upper body was supported by both elbows, and toned forearms. Heat pulsed from her body, excited that she would finally get a little fun after all the grueling missions from the Lotus. Just as Excalibur's helmet eased back into the collar around his neck, he slammed the bottom of his fist against a wall, shutting the lights off inside the storage room.

 

"No lights? Now that's the man I know."

 

Excalibur made no reply as he lowered himself to woman who was begging to be taken right then and there. He ignored Lotus's voice, coming from a modulator installed into his collar. He would get an earful from the Organization upon his return, but Saryn had a point. Although encased in powerful suits of armor, augmenting their abilities as ancient warriors of the Orokin era...

 

A Tenno is still only human.

Edited December 6, 2013 by Piranah1

[Piranah1]

And still more non-Aequitas, from page 45 and onwards (discluding continued works)

 

YandmereSamantha

 

SACRIFICES

 

"You made the wrong decision!"

 

She dragged her feet as she walked away from her warlord as he roared in rage after hearing what she had done. She tried to numb herself from the harsh words spewing out of his mouth. This was proven futile. She tried her best to hold back her tears beneath her helmet, painted black like the rest of her Warframe.

 

"Favoring civilians over our own kin? Sacrificing our fellow Tenno? Had the Corpus brainwashed you? The Tenno only look after themselves. Us and us only," he barked, as she continued to tread quietly away from him.

 

She had chosen to side with the Corpus because of reasons he will never understand. If she were to support the Grineer like him, the Empire would grow stronger, possibly stronger than the Tenno themselves. Also, the Corpus are traders and merchants, while the Grineer are endless hordes of highly trained clones. The fact that the Corpus is weaker won her sympathy for them. Perhaps because she is "weak" herself? She had been anything but useful over the past few months. She always had been the weak link in a cell.

 

"Had you forgotten what the Grineer did to mo-" before she can finish, she was cut off.

 

"You will always be a disappointment. I will never consider you my daughter."

 

That made her froze in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder gently, and whispered, "Duibuqi, baba."

 

The Rhino stopped dead in his tracks when she heard her say that. She seldom used that ancient language, unlike her more-favored sister. She continued to walk until she reached her quarters. She retracted her Mag Warframe, put on some fresh clothes, and climbed up the bottom bunk. Lying down, she took out something from under her pillow. It was a portrait of her family. Her father, her long-dead mother, and her sister Xiang, who was still in cryosleep. The intel Yuna, a Nyx, gathered suggested that her cryopod is among the ones Alad V acquired in Sedna. She hurriedly slipped it back in when someone came in.

 

"Yanmei?" a slight Nova said. It was Misaki, her friend and confidant, peeking from the outside without her helmet on. "Misaki?" she called out, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't listen to what your father said," she said in her usual cheerful voice. "I'm sure he was just frustrated that you didn't listen to him again." Yanmei smiled and curled up and hugged her knees. "If Xiang were here instead of me, I'm sure father would have been happier..." she said, her voice broken. Misaki frowned. "Don't say that. Your father loves you. You're special, Onee-chan. You're strong and beautiful to me," she said with a reassuring smile. "Anyway," Misaki breathed, "I'm sure being weak isn't the only reason you supported Corpus." She sat down beside her and curled up to ball too. "I can see you fumble around whenever we hear his voice during our missions..."

 

Yanmei's eyes widened as a blush crept over her milky skin. "You... you noticed?" she said, hugging a pillow to hide her embarrassment. "Mmm-hmm." Yanmei sighed. "Damn, Misaki. You know me better than my father..." Misaki shook her head. "Yanmei, I don't think lusting after people from an enemy faction is right," she started, "Heck, that merchant Darvo whom you were seeing is nowhere to be found now." Yanmei frowned. "He was being pursued by the Stalker..." Misaki held her hands up defensively. "I know, I know! But still, if it is for your happiness, I shall not hinder you. I just hope you won't get into trouble... or hurt yourself," she said worriedly. Yanmei forced a smile. "You know I could never betray you guys, despite what father said." Misaki gave her a tight squeeze. Silence followed afterwards. "I miss Xiang..." Yanmei finally spoke. Misaki gave her a worried look. "I'm sure we can find her, Yanmei." An announcement went off and everyone got ready for sleep. Misaki retracted her frame, got dressed and climbed up the top bunk. "Good night, Yanmei-onee chan. Ignore what your father said." Yanmei peeked up and smiled. "And may you dream of that merchant and Ala-" Before Misaki could finish, a pillow landed on her face.

 

I will never consider you my daughter.

 

Those words echoed in her head. She got up and activated her Mag frame, and quietly left the room, careful not to wake Misaki up. When her father said those hurtful words, it further strengthened her resolve. Her resolve to make an even bigger sacrifice. She equipped her Shade armed herself with a Despair, a souvenir from the Stalker when she and Misaki defeated him when he assaulted them in the void, and her mother's favorite gun, a Strun, then jumped into the darkness of night. She stowed away a transport vehicle and began to track down her target: Alad V.

 

She had a knack for following people around. She had a knack in stalking. In only a couple of hours he located him, in his Gas City. She snuck past civilians, careful not to make a ruckus. She intruded the air vents and snuck around. Still cloaked by her Shade, she snuck around the Crewmen and finally, reached his private quarters.

 

He was sitting on his desk, eyeing a sample collected from a previously dissected Tenno when he sensed someone's presence. Slowly, he reached for his hand cannon, but it was too late, a slender arm wrapped around his neck and a Despair was aimed at his throat. The apparatus on his shoulders didn't help. "I don't mean any harm," a small female voice said. "I'm here to do business with you." He chuckled and held the arm, unwrapping it from his neck, and stood up. "My, you surprised me, Tenno. You know, you could have set an appointment with me instead of sneaking up behind me. You almost woke up my pet." He motioned to the robotic dog "sleeping" beside his desk. He eyed her and recognized she was one of the outnumbered Tenno who continuously worked for him during the war. "So, what brings you here in my quarters?" he asked.

 

She sighed and spoke. "Like I've said, I'm here to do business with you." He smiled, and motioned her to take a seat. "I'm listening." Yanmei hung her head low and said, "I would like to do a trade. I will give you my Despair and my Warframe." His eyes widened upon hearing this. A sly smile crept over his face. "I can see the Corpus in you, Tenno. I'll be sure to pay you a hefty amount." Yanmei shook her head. "I'm not asking for credits. In exchange for my offer, let me pick a cryopod and free the Tenno inside it." Alad V chuckled at this. Yanmei eyed him and sighed. She came over him, her helmet dangerously close to his face. "If you let me do so, I'll also give myself to you. You're free to do anything." Alad's face was straight this time, then he smiled. That smile made her blush under her helmet, and she was taken aback. "I was referring to my freedom, of course."

 

Alad chortled and offered his hand. She extended her hand out and he shook it. "You have yourself a deal, Tenno. Come with me." He led her out the room, and summoned around ten Crewmen should she try something. He led her to a room full of sleeping Tenno. She frantically searched for her sister's cryopod until she found a cryopod being carried by Crewmen. She rushed over and yelled the word stop. The Crewmen were about to put the cryopod down and reach for their weapons when Alad V motioned them to stop. He told them about their deal and the Crewmen placed the cryopod in a private room. She entered and released the Tenno from the pod, making a hissing sound and the room suddenly became colder. She helped her step out.

 

"W-who are you?" she asked Yanmei as she helped her out the pod. "It is none of your business, young one. Now, activate your frame," she said, then handed her the Strun strapped on her shoulder, "and take this with you. Now, run. Don't kill any Corpus, just run, until you reach your destination on this device." She handed over her tracking device, now reprogrammed to where their clan's Dojo is. The freshly-awakened Tenno activated her blue Ember frame and looked over her shoulder, eyes a piercing blue, like her energy. "What will you do? What about you?" Yanmei shook her head. "I'll be okay."

 

The Tenno nodded and escaped through an  air vent. She looked over her shoulder and shouted, "I will come back for you, my brethren. Wo hui de." She clasped her heart and watched as she disappeared in the darkness. "Wo ai ni, xiao meimei," she whispered to herself, clutching her chest, trying her best to hold back her tears. She turned around and knelt in exhaustion. Tracking down Alad's location for hours, travelling for days in a mere transportation pod and sneaking around the enormous Gas City took its toll on her body; a Tenno isn't invincible, after all. Alad entered the room and motioned her to stand up and follow him back to his quarters. Two Corpus Techs were guarding the door. "A deal is a deal," she said, levitating her Despair for one last time, her bright red energy encircling the weapon, then handed the thing to him. "And for the record," She took off her helmet and wiped the tears on her face. She fluttered her mutant eyes open, bright scarlet like her mother's. "We have eyes." Alad chuckled at her statement. "Someone took the joke literally." She handed him her helmet, and she hung her head in shame, her red-tinted dark hair obscuring the rest of her face. "And your Warframe?" he asked. She retracted her frame and quickly handed it to him, then knelt and tried to cover herself. "I have only one request from you, Alad V," she said, now looking up to the man in front of her. "Please, when you dissect me, don't put me to sleep. I want to see myself pour crimson regret. Not the regret of deciding to trade myself to you, but the regret of not making this decision earlier."

 

He laughed. Was he mocking her? It doesn't matter. She is left practically with nothing. He took off his visors, bent over and rested his chin over her bare shoulder. She was practically burning red right now. Her head was hazy. Out of impulse, she wrapped a hand around his torso for support. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I'm afraid not, Tenno, because I have other plans for you."

 

-

 

A week later, Xiang had finally reached their Dojo, a hidden fortress. Upon entering, she removed her helmet and was greeted with a bone-crushing embrace from a Rhino. "Wo de haizi!" he exclaimed. She embraced back, despite being weakened because of the flight. "I missed you, baba," she squeaked. Suddenly, her father pulled away from her and removed his helmet, revealing a worried expression. "Where is your jiejie? She went missing a few days ago.." Xiang suddenly froze. That Tenno who set her free was her sister. It was her older sister Yanmei. She frantically explained what happened and the Rhino roared in remorse and punched through the Dojo's wall. Misaki, upon hearing the deafening thud, rushed over to see what happened. She was surprised to see Xiang, and embraced her. The Nova asked their warlord what happened. He explained what happened and Misaki was furious. Her cheerful, bubbly demeanor was gone.

 

"This is all your fault! If you didn't treat Yanmei like she was a useless piece of s@#$, this wouldn't happen!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Now she's gone to the highest bidder!" She pushed their warlord and pinned him against the wall with her Orthos Prime, which she and Yanmei farmed together in the Void, almost costing the latter's life. "Now she's with a man who is God's worst sinner!"

 

Xiang pulled her away and cradled her as she broke into tears. Yuna was peeking and reluctantly entered. "My brethren," she slowly said. "I think I've located where our Mag is..."

 

Everyone rushed to the intel room and saw the alert. "Captive Tenno Located - Gas City, ???"

Edited December 6, 2013 by Piranah1

[Piranah1]

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[bejuizb]

Upd8 pl0x

[Wrath_Of_Chrysalis]

You forgot me. :(

[Asher]

He hasnt got to the aequitas part yet wrath

Edited January 13, 2014 by OmegaMK1

[Ajkrumen]

What about me? I was here since page 9. :c

[Asher]

Er...

 

..pie! *smacks pie in aj's face*

 

Just let piranah do it, he'll get to it eventually.

 

Edit: We'll probably have to delete this.

Edited January 13, 2014 by OmegaMK1

[Piranah1]

Ok, sorry it has taken me so long to get back to this. I'm going away (again), and I'm taking a saved copy of the entire main thread and this one with me, so I can work on it. There is a LOT to get done though.

As for people not being on here yet, I decided to split the Aequitas away after about halfway down page 4, when Tyranthius stole the first potatoes. Apart form that, I've gotten the non-Aequitas stories up to page 45 right now.

As a warning, when I get more done, you will have to delete your posts. However, not for a while. But I estimate that I will need at least 60-80 posts to archive everything in the current thread, discluding the massive amount extra that will be there once I have gotten to that stage. This is a really, really big project.

[bejuizb]

Thanks for taking the time to do this.

[Jeahanne]

Piranah, just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you doing this. If I can help at all just PM me. I'll do my best to lighten your load if I can.