[Under Construction] Of Ash And Fire: Roleplaying Thread

[SilverBones]

Welcome!

 

This is a thread for people to post short stories about how they envision their Tenno as they go through missions. It was originally just for a short story I wrote, but as I have had a reply, why not continue the trend?

 

Here is mine!

 

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

 

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.

Edited July 6, 2013 by SilverBones

[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]

Well I thought I'd take a stab at writing. I'm as amateur as amateur gets so feel free to critique it as much as you want and I'm open to suggestions.

                                                                                        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.

 

So how was that guys? Good? Bad? Sour? Chewy?

Please tell me what you think!

Thanks for the feedback Aigloblam! I appreciate that you took the time to read it when you could have read any of the other short stories around that I can guarantee are much, much better. Thanks :)

Edited July 6, 2013 by Necromonger2100

[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.

[Jadoth]

So I read through all of the pieces you guys posted and found some inspiration to write this! Loosely based off a gameplay session I had recently.

 

(Word of warning - I don't know much about Warframe lore. I'm also way more used to writing in a medieval fantasy session so this is a bit out of my comfort zone.)

---

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.

---

Hmm... I actually want to continue this. Maybe make it into a fanfic of its own... Think I should give it a shot?

[SilverBones]

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.

Edited July 8, 2013 by SilverBones

[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.

 

Please leave any feedback. I will continue the story soon.

Edited August 23, 2013 by Tyranthius

[SilverBones]

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.

[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..." Edited July 15, 2013 by Kalenath

[Maati]

Well this certainly inspired me to try my hand at writing something, so here's one with Vauban, but don't expect it to be anything that will blow your mind, my literary skills are pretty limited.

 

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…

[Tyranthius]

Now, to continue.

 

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.

 

Edit: I'm very gratified people actually like my story. If any of you could give me some ideas on a good next topic, that would be excellent.

Edited July 16, 2013 by Tyranthius

[Drakeardian]

Whoa! Excellent Idea! Okay I’ll try your challenge!
 

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…

 

 

Thank you for reading! 

[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..."

[theammostore]

I moved this from the middle of the thread. It was a WIP then, and I wanted a fresh look on it now that I finished it up.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

All done! Note, the assassination target was made up, so don't get confused!

[Ghost333]

Interesting stories. I might write one up on my first encounter with the Stalker. Here it is, enjoy folks!

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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.

[Tyranthius]

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.

 

Some back-story for my previous one up there. Will continue soon.

Edited August 1, 2013 by Tyranthius

[frostycmc]

To all the Tenno who wrote before me, you inspired this, and I really think that is the highest praise any creative work can receive. Keep writing and being awesome everyone.

 

 

 

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.

[Tyranthius]

Frost, that is @(*()$ hilarious. Keep it up.

 

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.

 

I'll continue this one later.

[Jadoth]

Time to give this another go! I've got an idea for a fanfiction and I think some warm-up writing is in order. I need to get a better feel for my Tenno's personality and flesh out his character, so this is probably a good way to start.

 

I seem to have a penchant for putting my poor Frost through some rather unfortunate situations. :>

 

--

 

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."

 

---

 

Quick question for all you fanfic writers - any tips/advice for someone who generally has trouble staying organized and following a plot? It's been a long time since I've written anything longer than a one-shot.

[Hyashisan]

You guys are all awesome, so I decided to try my hand on this. Anyone wanna write along with this story line?

 

----

 

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. 

[Aigloblam]

You guys are all awesome, so I decided to try my hand on this. Anyone wanna write along with this story line?

 

----

Ya'know...now that you made me think about it, Theres no reason why all these stories can't do a bit of Melding.... Nothing wrong with a group story, is there? :)

 

***************

 

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.

****************************

I hope you dont mind me using you in this one Kalenath...It just seemed to fit.

[frostycmc]

I like the idea of a group story thread. Also what have you people done to me!? I hadn't written anything in such a long time and now I can't stop!

 

 

 

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]

Yay, glad you guys liked the group thing. It'd be cool if we could somehow tie everyone together XD.

 

---

 

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]

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. 

 

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]

Challenge: Accepted.

 

---

 

"... 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.