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Bloody Snow (Fan Fic, 15 Minutes)


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--OOH BOY A FROST FAN FIC OOOOOOH BOY--

 

His fingers drummed the handle of the scythe.
 
The Tenno sat inside his dropship as it slowly plowed the void between Mercury and Venus. His home, his solitude. He of course belonged to a clan, but the dojo was never truly his home. Too many comings and goings disrupted his attempted meditations. No, here was his home. Home of his foundry, home of his bed and armory.
 
He was impatient. Lotus, though insufferably patronizing of his abilities and intelligence, had not called out a contract in days. And without a contract, the only location he could warp to was the dojo. Even though he knew where the places were, he had to have a contract to allow his dropship drive. 
 
He stood, unable to hold concentration any more. Pacing to the nearest window inside the manta shaped craft, he observed the passing stars. The solar system was beautiful, as it was cold. He saw in the limitless distance the glimmer of a fight. No doubt the Corpus skirmished against the lines of the Grineer somewhere, massive hull mounted weapons singing whip-cracks as they discharged projectiles against the more steady bass beat of the Grineer macrocannons. And yet, still, he paced the cabin, trapped in null space.
 
It could be said that a Frost was slow. but, no. That was a description inapt, as slowness suggested vulnerability. No.  A Frost, loomed. It drummed a steady walk through ship interiors, across white steel, tan sand and green earth all the same, brushing off enemy fire against a massive wall of shields and armor, singing a song only sung through the barrel of a gun, the string of a bow or stroke of a blade. As much as any Rhino, the Frost was an unstoppable force, a crawling glacier.
 
The comm rang. 
 
One would not see the change of malformed expression under the helmet of the Tenno, a mask hiding the twisted flesh affected by the warp. But a slow smile cut his face. She called for reinforcements upon the East Gate of Venus, against a tide of Infested. 
 
Without a word (Though he spoke very few anyway), he slammed his ship into warp to reach the place of combat.
 
The drop in was smooth. He accompanied a Volt and two Ash, so his job was simple. Hold the field. The siren sounded in moments, the environmental processors halting and releasing the environment rapidly to the winds of Venus, the temperamental planet seeking to banish these intruders off planet, malformed creature and Tenno alike.
 
A nod exchanged between the group, before the faster frames rushed off to find quarry. He himself instead strode ever so steadily to a stretch of land he'd held before. A raised crag held an elevator to the area below, and two landing pads held cargo long forgotten by it's Corpus masters under the weight of the sudden assault of twisted flesh and machine.
 
There was the Cicada-like  chitter of Infested, moments before the ground shook. The tide came forth, and for him. Motioning outwards with almost intimidating sureness, a great dome of ice formed about him, and winds howled inside it. The first creature broke the barrier, unprepared for the cold it suddenly experienced. And to Frost, it crawled insufferably slow. Three rapid strokes of his scythe, a cruel thing salvage from a fallen assassin, split the creature into six pieces. And then another, and another, scythe singing the song of battle against howling winds.
 
One after another fell before the harvesting swings, blade carving arcs of blood free from one creature after another. He occasionally glanced to the level of life support to make sure his allies were doing their jobs, but all seemed well, between occasional refills and the many pods he cut through, the bar seemed stable in the mid high range.
 
Then, a scream. Twisted, angry, mutated. A cable flung forth and crashed into the walling of his dome, anchoring firm. One infested shot forth from the horde between all others, and it bore him great sorrow.
 
The red of a Valkyr, one of Alad V's atrocious creations. But marred by mutation. Frost ached deeply for this one, twisted not once but twice. She, however, only screamed at the barrier between her and her target. One clawed fist broke through, and then the next. 
 
It seemed as if the other infested were backing away. There was only silence other than her horrific screams and the howl of the blizzard Frost maintained.
 
He bowed, ever so slightly, as was custom. Twisted or not, she was once Tenno, a sister. Her line shot past his head and anchored to the inside of the bubble, drawing her into a screaming rush across the interior, broken Skana out and threatening as she closed the gap. The was a clash, sparks, as ancestral blade passed along harvester's tool. He stepped to the side measuredly, letting the frenzied berzerker carry herself into the wall. He did not expect to strike, though, and was most assuredly right. Like a feline predator she whirled about and pushed off to lunge at him again.
 
Another stroke of blades passing across each other. Her claws passed along his helmet, leaving deep scars. He did not flinch. Again, he stepped to the side at the peak of her attack, letting her pass. He drew his pistol as she passed, black and gold shimmering in the hurricane of light and snow. A pull of the trigger loosed three bullets into her already failing shielding system. She howled in pain and turned about, lunging at him again. And as suddenly as she came at him, it was over. A single, long stroke with the scythe split her neck. As quick a death as he could afford her.
 
A roar loosed from the Frost in his grief, at having to fell a sister. Gunfire came from the very heavens as a Corpus ship broadsided the area, crushing great swathes of infested. Lotus announced that reinforcements had arrived, and they were free to go.
 
The steady drum sounded thrice that day. As he carried his fallen sister, great armored boots crushing the snow of the fields. Again, as he strode through the Dojo. And then truly, as her body was lit aflame against the silence of the Tenno, other than those hammering the drums.
 
A day later, he sat again in his dropship, cross-legged, watching the distant glitter of gunfire. It is said by some that the Tenno are a faceless, emotionless force. Some call them only mercenaries. As he drummed the handle of his harvester's scythe, cruel weapon stole from assassin, he thought of these people, and how they did not understand brotherhood.
Edited by Haraswift
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----OH LOOK A SECOND CHAPTER----

 

Frost impatiently drummed the handle of his scythe. 
 
Three days now. Three, whole, damn, days. It was as if she was trying to annoy him on purpose. He paced over to his forge, watching it assemble his Supra painfully slowly. He'd recently acquired the blueprints by stopping by the dojo, and was rather excited about the thing as a whole.
 
He selected a favored weapon out of the armory, a sturdy bow, painted intricately black, gold, and red, to match the Tenno's armor. Wide headed arrows generated out of the quiver, so long as the appropriate ammunition cases were on hand. He settled to begin maintenance on the weapon, opening up the energy emitter to clean it. His zen.
 
The comm rang. 
 
He didn't know if it had been minutes or hours. He didn't care. Reassembling the bow, he slung it over his shoulder and looked over the contract data. An interesting one- a stalk through an abandoned space station at the edge of Sol. He'd be alone. He didn't really care. The ship almost instantly slammed into drive, responding to a few rapid button presses. 
 
He armed himself- Harvester's tool, Bow, sleek golden autopistol, and the broken Skana. He'd since carved it down to naught more than a long handled knife. While against the normal traditions to carry another's weapon, something compelled him to carry this last fragment of his fallen sister with him. He had since he saw her body burned.
 
It was a curiosity; Other Tenno had commented on it. Never negatively, but sometimes questioningly. The bright green and black knife stood out against the blacks, golds, and reds of his armor. He would tell the story, other Tenno more often than not struck quiet. Every time, no more questions or complaints would be raised, only a solemn nod. An acknowledgement to the sorrowed executioner of his deed done and weight carried. 'Twas for the best, but it was no more light a deed, that fact in mind or no.
 
When he arrived at  the outpost, his initial reaction was curiosity. It was like some dark reflection of the average Orokin place, dark stone held together with gleaming cobalt detailing. A soft whirr denoted a working reactor, and subtle vibrations spoke of movement elsewhere. He drew his pistol and the knife, gripping the handle of each, before his first tenative steps inside.
 
A crack. A vidscreen flickered to life above him. Scrolling text in the old language rode by, a voice speaking in that same language. He pulled a fragment out of it: "Transit".
 
More, though, he tensed. Rightfully so. Infested drew themselves up, not quite the ones he was used to. They shambled and staggered towards the source of the sound. Each was a similar black and blue to the base, and the numbers were massive. He decided stealth would be the better part of survival, today, and crept ever so slowly past the shambling masses.
 
Looking around, he realized the bodies were everywhere. Countless. What, was this place? He stopped, going stiff as he stepped on a piece of glass. Not that it damaged him. More that it cracked.
 
The collective roar was among the most terrifying things he'd recount during his life as a Tenno.
 
Corpses rose up, blue streaks of infestation guiding them in a half-stumble-half-run at him. He didn't bother with his bow. Lining up the way point on his HUD, he broke into a full run, scythe out. 
 
He hit the shambling wall like a hammer. A frost wave broke the initial haphazard formation so he could continue his rush forward, massive arcs with scythe cleaving through multiple shambling masses each stroke. His Carrier kept the power flowing, grabbing each bit it could as he dashed through the station.
 
Rounding a corner into a dead end, he stopped, and without hesitation turned about. Knife and gleaming auto-pistol came out, hailing fire into the mass. They fell, but still advanced, so many in number the Grineer themselves would shudder.
 
And then, the door opened, and one gauntlet grabbed his, pulling Frost into the next room before the door shut again. Turning to face his savior or executioner, he saw... An ancient Excalibur. Holding only a Cronus, he met Frost's eyeless gaze with his own.
 
The wordless confrontation was broken by the pounding of infested at the door. A quick nod and way point told Frost, that they needed to move. It was at least in line with the mission, so he complied, dashing after the rather faster Excalibur. 
 
Frost realized he was running. Odd. He was never one to run.
 
Corners came and went, winding into the depths of the station. The waypoint came up, down a near corridor. Frost ground to a halt, the Excalibur ahead continuing on a few steps before turning about. 
 
Curiosity won the Excalibur over, rather than any manner of communication. Creeping through ancient hallways. Occasionally, bodies rose, but nowhere near the numbers at the entrance. Scythe sung through each they crossed, without hesitation.
 
The waypoint led to some grotesque... thing. Something, infested, wound around the reactor. Some massive, mutated twist of flesh and nanomachines gave a low roar, and the station shoook under the recognizable sound of a stampede.
 
Again, there wasn't a second's hesitation. Bow came up, arrows loosed in pairs. A tap on his shoulder and blips on his hud told him he didn't have that luxury for much longer- he raised a great dome of ice and snow around himself and the Excalibur, and prepared for the incoming horde.
 
They came. 
 
As a tide of black and blue, they crashed into Frost's defense. Scythe sung of battle, slicing with only the slightest resistance through  one body after another. He felt the Excalibur grab the knife off his side, and spun about to watch in horror as another brother plunged into the infestation. Knife and Cronus gashed into the infested mass, drawing the shambling creatures away from Frost.
 
The Excalibur raged. He tore, knife and sword, into the mass. Great gashes were carved away as frost could do no more than freeze and shatter swathes of enemies while he did. And then, a console. Frost didn't see it. Excalibur, did. As Frost ran the last of his energy out, the wail of a self destruct sounded. He turned about, catching knife... and the data mass he was sent here to collect in the first place.
 
Excalibur ran. He broke a line in the enemy formation in one, sweeping stroke. Frost dashed after, hurling all his effort into it. Klaxons wailed, infested roared, and the station shook violently as multiple parts broke away and exploded.
 
It was chaos. There were multiple hull breaches, fires, open space. Needless to say that life support was gone. Extraction seemed miles away. Arrows sang through the open space, cleaving infested in half. 
 
And then, suddenly, they arrived. Infested close behind them... and only one extraction point. Frost hesitated, but the Excalibur pushed him onto the point, with only a single message sent between links-
 
"Tell my story."
 
And before he could protest, the dropship pulled away. The last glances were of the Excalibur turning about, sword out, before the station as a whole went up. The shockwave shook the dropship as it pulled Frost inside.
 
A mission complete sounded, but Frost did not bother with it. Instead, he took up paintbrush and parchment, and began work.
Edited by Haraswift
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