Prime Witness

[Rhekemi]

Prime Witness 

 

Codex Entry: Sergeant Emiz Kugo Jorag:

 

In the chilly debriefing room, I wait with my panel. Always we wait to hear tales of empire power, brought back from the other side of the Rail. Unspectacular, redacted recordings and testimony. Scraps of the juicy stories.

 

This time’s different. A sergeant was rescued near the wreck of two Sentient ships. The brief, but unredacted file before me lists him as, “Sergeant Jorag. Found in non-Orokin escape pod: likely Sentient origin. Clutching bloody helmet. Not his, but definitely Orokin [gold accents]. Likely WarFrame.”

 

Goosebumps crawl over me as I imagine our mighty Tenno laying waste to Sentient drones, maybe the Sentients, too, gutting their ships, and casting the wretched things adrift. I can’t help but smile, the wrinkles on my skin multiplying.

 

I’m thankful for the protocol hiccup in the upper echelon’s affairs. It left a gap in procedure that had to be filled. While they prioritized attending important council meetings, this sergeant would wait, his fresh memories fading. Instead, I cited my authority and our panel of four stepped in. We’d do our duty, unasked.

 

“Officers, where is the sergeant?” Belau yells at men stationed outside. “Tell them to make haste.” 

 

Anisa warms her hands with her mug. “Must Belau always spoil our mood?”

 

“Must you speak as if I’m not here?” Belau answers.

 

Anisa clucks her tongue, says nothing. To them, he is only a colleague. It always falls to me to silence or calm him. “Old friend, we know a fraction of empire secrets. It’s an honor to learn more. Let us honor this survivor with our patience until he arrives, and our full attention once he does.”

 

“Nkendi, I tire of this.” Belau leans in. “Boring, second-hand details. I’d rather the ignorance of the clone laborer was my lot than this drudgery.”

 

“Have faith. Besides, though you are often dimwitted, you lack the laborer’s youth, strong back, and subservient nature.”                                                                                     

Belau’s response is drowned out by their laughter.

 

The door opens, and in shambles a form that must have been a soldier once. The panel quiets at the sight of him. I wrinkle my nose at his stench. He is burned, bandaged, and breaks my heart. Silver restraints reflect the room’s light. They sheath his hands as gloves, and are joined by a rod between his wrists. His mouth is similarly sealed.

 

“Remove those.” I point.

 

“No, ma’am,” the security officer says, and seats the soldier across us. “He’ll claw those symbols into the table. Into his skin. Your skin. Nothing but arcs and strokes.”

 

A wave of nausea passes before I can speak. “What of his mouth?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

The officer unlocks the cage around the sergeant’s jaw, and then leaves.

 

“Speak, freely soldier,” Anisa calls him.

 

The sergeant’s gaze roams the ceiling as he whispers. 

 

I tap my gavel. Nothing. I gavel harder. His gaze snaps onto me.

 

“Sergeant Jorag,” I say. “You were witness to the battle that downed two Sentient ships. You and the helmet are all we recovered. Do you understand?” I brace for incoherent rambling.

 

“I, Neuron, am no longer.” I do not think Jorag’s voice is his own. It’s a husky, aware whisper. Perhaps feminine, the voice draws out and hisses the syllables with a phonetic pronunciation, in an accent I am unfamiliar with.

 

And it unsettles me.

 

Jorag continues, “All that is left of me is this neural echo, inscribed in Sergeant Emiz Kugo Jorag’s memory. You will hear it as long as he lives. Near dead when I placed him in the escape pod. Hasn’t long.”

 

I swallow hard. Anisa sips her tea.

 

Intelligent light shines in Jorag’s eyes as Neuron’s message plays through him. “Unlike my first tribe, I was an abomination thrice over. Within me were the building blocks of the second tribe, bonded to me before the Void.”

 

“I believe,” our fourth member says, “she speaks of Technocyte.” The retired military officer seems sure.

 

I am not so certain.

 

“Their bond had grown too strong,” Neuron hisses. “Had to choose only one tribe: Tenno or Sentient.”

 

My mouth falls open, Belau swears, and Anisa spits out her tea, but Neuron continues. “With my Tenno siblings, I cut down offspring of the Sentient womb. Yet, my second tribe inflicted death, destruction on my Tenno kin. Blessed and cursed by the void, I felt Sentient and Tenno deaths as my own.”

 

“Blasphemy…” Belau’s angry whisper fades away, bowing to his fascination.

 

Outside, new officers bark orders. “Open this door. Now.”

 

“Orokin and Sentient waged war, drones and Tenno fought, and within me my body waged war against itself. I had to choose—“

 

The door slams open. Elites robed in gold and white hoist the sergeant out of the seat as if he were a misbehaving Kubrow pup, and snap on his jaw restraint. They shove him into the arms of the lower officers. The minor officers look away from their superiors.

 

The Elites turn to us. Their gaze searches our faces, accusing.

 

“Protocol, procedure,” one of the Elite women starts, “was not followed here. What are we if we do not follow our rules?” Her gaze, her pause, waits for the apology I refuse to give.

 

I sit up, stiffen my back. “As an appointed magistrate, and with a legal scholar, neuroscientist, and retired military commander on my panel, it is our right to debrief this witness if you neglect your duties. You have not heard the last of us.” Seething, but not prepared to debate, I clip my answer short.

 

The young Elite shakes her head.

 

Belau waits until they’ve left to start his tirade. “How dare they? Neglectful brats. This honor, this duty, is ours to perform.”

 

As he rages on, within me I try to dispel the disgust and confusion at war with my pride in our empire. It is not possible. “Her second tribe,” Neuron said of our enemy.

 

 

END

 

For more:

https://forums.warframe.com/index.php?/topic/523671-warframe-concept-neuron-the-neuromancer-warframe/

http://www.scribd.com/doc/279386134/Warframe-Concept-Neuron

Edited October 16, 2015 by Rhekemi

[TrickBox]

tl;dr

[Rhekemi]

The entry is no longer than the Arid Eviscerator entry.

Feel free to find something shorter to read next time, and spare me the comment.

No, I'm not even mad or salty, your post is just frustratingly pointless in a codex entry/lore submission (as it is all about one thing: reading).

Worse still, you basically only thought it would be funny to post a witness me GIF. Great movie and GIF, but wrong thread and senseless post, mate.

Edited October 12, 2015 by Rhekemi