Chapter 3: A Favour For A Favour
22.05.3006
Tenno Savis, Banshee Prime
Tenno Savis, Banshee Prime
The red planet was but a red speck behind them now and they were heading towards Jupiter to awaken the, for now, last Warframe.
"This journey will not be as straightforward, Tenno," the Lotus said, her voice now traversing through the Orbiter. "The Queen of the Reef has control over the entire Asteroid Belt between Mars and Jupiter. She will not allow you to trespass."
Savis glanced at Rhino Prime. The Warframe was leaning with its back against a doorframe, arms crossed over its thick chest. Then it pushed itself away. It uncrossed its arms, then crossed them again.
Savis remembered the boy behind this Warframe. Quiet, always frowning, never talking. There were times when she thought he was going to say something but, in the end, he would still withdraw as he had here.
Then again, neither had she talked a lot. The other Zariman children and she had never had much contact. She remembered getting angry one time. It had been the most intense emotion she had felt after days of terror in the Zariman; the most intense emotion since staring at her parents' blood on her hands and their lifeless bodies in front of her. The rage had been so severe and blinding that she had, unwittingly, used her Void powers to disintegrate Archimedean Haris. One moment he had been right in front of her and the next…not even dust had remained of him.
She had not regretted it. He had sneered and called them demons and monsters one too many times. Neither she nor the other Zariman children had wanted the ship to disappear in the Void. Neither she nor the other Zariman children had wanted their parents to lose their minds, to succumb to the Void's terror, to chase them through the ship in wanton, barbaric rage and neither she nor the other Zariman children had wanted to survive by killing their parents. None of them had chosen to be gifted with the Void's curse.
The other children had hated her for killing the Archimedean, however, because after that incident, they had spent more time in cryo sleep than out of it.
Every waking hour, she had feared execution. It never came, however. Maybe because the Archimedean hadn't been Orokin. Maybe because their powers were too valuable and needed to be explored further. Likely a combination of both.
Savis knew, however, that, if it had been an Orokin she had killed that day, then the Jade Light would have been the last thing she would have ever seen.
Still, she did not regret it. Only her firing the first shot and, thus, heralding the beginning of the end of their Orokin masters when the other Tenno joined her in the massacre during the victory ceremony on Pluto, was more satisfying than killing Archimedean Haris.
In hindsight, it was curious that Steva accidentally blinding Margulis hadn't garnered any real reaction from the Orokin Executors. It was only Executor Ballas who had been furious with them. At first, he had disliked them. After Margulis had been blinded, however, he despised them. And yet, only her act of killing Archimedean Haris had ended in punishment.
"What do we do then?"she asked softly, speaking for the first time since the Lotus had woken her up. It was a queer thing to hear it again. Her own voice, sounding so foreign and unfamiliar, as if it was a stranger speaking and not her.
Rhino Prime raised its head to face her. Had Toras recognised her voice? Had he remembered her? He didn't speak.
"We will commence our journey to Jupiter and meet with the Queen of the Reef when hailed upon," the Lotus answered. "In the unlikely event that she will simply ignore you, we will continue our journey without stopping."
There was a pause. She glanced at Rhino Prime, though its stance revealed nothing of what was going on inside of it. Its arms were still crossed over its chest and it was still leaning against the doorframe. Its head was lowered a bit, making it appear deep in thought.
"What…what is so important about this Mara Sov?" Toras then asked, his voice barely above a whisper and not at all fitting the imposing figure of his Warframe. "She helped during the Old War but…she always hides in her Reef. What changed?"
"Mara Sov is not only the most powerful person in this stellar system but also the most important. She has witnessed the Orokin from the height of their power to the twilight of their reign. In the ensuing chaos after the collapse of the Orokin Empire, it was her forces that held the fractures and broken pieces of this system's remains together. She is fiercely respected by her people, the Awoken."
Savis wondered how old this Mara Sov truly was if she had, indeed, lived through most of the Orokin Empire. How many Yuvan had she sacrificed? For how long had her Continuity lasted?
She sounded intriguing, admittedly. Before the Old War, the Awoken had been a mysterious, secretive folk, relegated to near myth for how rarely their kind was seen beyond the Reef. Their efforts in the war had been important, however. Toras was wrong to diminish it. The Awoken and Mara Sov didn't just help. They sacrificed for a people who did not deserve it and gained nothing for their sacrifices.
Plus, their participation had given Executor Ballas the extra time he needed to perfect his work on the transference process and the Warframes.
And here they were now.
Again, she glanced at Rhino Prime, its bulky form unmoving from its position by the doorframe.
Savis turned, pushed past Rhino and walked down the now-opened hatch to below decks of the Orbiter. She wasn't sure what to do with another presence in the Orbiter. She wasn't sure what to do with herself in the presence of another Tenno.
She didn't like it.
"Where are you going?" Toras called after her.
Savis stopped. She looked over her shoulder at Rhino Prime. "I don't know."
"...are there any others awake?" It was a sight she would never get used to; the sight of a faceless, eyeless Warframe speaking.
"Not that I know of. The Lotus woke me and sent me to wake others. You are the first I woke."
"What about Rell?"
Rell. Now that was a name she hadn't expected to hear ever again. "What about him?"
"Is he doing well?"
At first, Savis felt confused by that question but then realisation dawned on her. Toras didn't know yet just how much time had passed since the Lotus had allowed them to rest.
A rest they had desperately needed.
She had remembered Margulis's words that day when sleep – real sleep – finally began to take its gentle hold on her. "Dream," Margulis had told them once. "Dream…not of what you are…but of what you want to be."
Over four hundred years she had slept but Savis could not remember dreaming. She could not remember a single dream.
"Toras," she finally replied, "over four centuries have passed since the war." Since we massacred our masters. "If Rell has not taken to the Orokin and their Continuity, then he is well and truly dead."
"Fo-four hundred –?!" He sounded shocked and surprised. His Warframe could not hide his emotions from his voice. "Poor Rell…poor lad…"
Savis scoffed. "He was an odd one. A liability. Don't waste your thoughts on him. Concentrate on how we shall handle this Mara Sov character."
Rhino Prime had no eyes yet she felt the glare. She did not care.
Rell had been odd. A survivor of the Zariman, yes, but not one of them. He could never have been.
It was typical of Toras to waste energy in the wrong places.
The Lotus should have sent her to wake Laras or Arin instead. He may have blood – quite literally – on his hands but Toras was much too soft still.
06.06.3006
Executor Larautas, Guardian
Executor Larautas, Guardian
Darkness.
Then sudden light.
A gasp followed by a strangled yell.
Thoughts and memories flooded his mind. Air filled his lungs. A cold gust of wind caressed his hair, cold, smooth tile floors touched his skin.
There was no order in anything. Only chaos.
"You're awake!"
His eyes snapped open. A cry escaped him at the bright, blinding light. He squeezed them shut again.
"Take your time." The voice spoke again. It was male and much too cheery. "I imagine that the process is difficult and confusing."
His heart was pounding against his chest. Painful and restless, wild and erratic. Something was going on; something odd, queer, unnatural.
He took a breath. Slow and deep. Then he slowly exhaled. He repeated it once. He repeated it twice. Thrice. Then, a fourth time.
The disarray in his mind was slowly beginning to find order once more. Piece by piece, bit by bit, the puzzle began to create the much-needed picture.
He remembered a war.
He remembered a war against their own creations.
He remembered children – devil children from Void womb, unnatural children, demons.
He remembered Ballas's creations, his Warframes.
He remembered them malfunctioning and he remembered Ballas using the Void demons to stop them from malfunctioning.
He remembered a celebration and –
Reflexively, he sat up and touched his forehead, his breathing rapid and shallow again.
He remembered a celebration. He remembered turning to face that creature, he remembered its faceless head glaring at him, almost vulpine in design, plated in gold and four blue tendrils pulsing with energy moving behind her as if the wind was making them dance their wicked dance. He remembered the barrel of its weapon on his forehead, the cold metal against his skin and he remembered the deafening bang! reverberating through the Great Hall of the Victory Tower on Pluto.
In how fitting a place to celebrate their victory over the Sentient, how morbid a fate he had suffered and yet, he was here. Alive. One of the first Orokin to emerge and one of the first to occupy his Yuvan, for four hundred years he had lived. Such a glorious life had ended so abruptly and yet, he, Executor Larautas, was here…without a Yuvan.
Billions of questions ran rampant in his mind. Two, however, were at the forefront.
"For how long have I been dead?" he asked the voice, surprised at how smooth and silken his voice sounded; not at all parched or unused.
"You have been dead for four-hundred-and-forty-two years, Guardian! Until I resurrected you just now, that is."
His eyes snapped open again and this time he forced them to remain that way despite the bright glare of the building's lights blinding him. His head swivelled left and right, searching for the source of the voice.
This couldn't be true. He couldn't have possibly been dead for over four centuries!
Then suddenly, a small, floating machine appeared in front of him, a glowing blue…eye? was staring intently at him. Surrounding the eye were eight roughly tetrahedral segments that were moving about independently from one another and seemingly without any notable purpose. The whole thing was about the size of his left hand.
"What are you?" he asked hoarsely. "Four hundred years?"
"Four-hundred-and-forty-two years, to be exact!" it repeated.
The mere number had his mind still reeling. He had lived four glorious centuries and inhabited six of the most beautiful Yuvan – how he had enjoyed the envy of his peers! – but to hear that another four centuries had passed since his grizzly death, since his murder…
…it was a monumental task just trying to comprehend.
"What are you?" Larautas repeated his question.
"I am Ghost!" it answered in its cheery voice. "I've been created by the Traveller and I was lucky enough to have found you so quickly!"
"The Traveller?" He looked around and only then did he realise where he was.
The ivory walls, stretching far into the sky. Glowing arboriform tendrils, protected by thick glass encasings, worming their way from wall to wall and floor to floor. The golden railings and decorations.
Slowly, Larautas got up on shaky yet surprisingly steady feet. Wide-eyed and mouth agape, he slowly turned, taking it all in. Ivory walls, yes, but they were broken and torn down. Golden railings and decorations, yes, but they were bent and misshapen.
He remembered; those twisted vulpine features, glowing blue tendrils moving and waving about as if mocking him. He remembered the white and gilded gold of the weapon pointed at her – a weapon his kind, his people, his brethren had crafted from their resources!
Larautas remembered Ballas, ever one to indulge in dramatics and theatricality. He remembered his words when introducing the design of this frame of war.
Sight without eye. And yet, he had felt its glare, burning with fury and hatred.
Wrath without sound. And yet, the devil child had spoken from within its unholy conduit. It had spoken a single word before murdering him: "Die."
Not a soldier, but a myth. Not a warrior…a spirit…
Neither warrior nor spirit, Ballas, he thought bitterly. Demons and devils.
And right here, on this very balcony, he had been murdered…yet something was different as were so many other things. For one, the balcony had been higher, much higher than this. It had collapsed, visibly, and it had taken several stories with it when crashing below. Countless holes littered the ivory walls of the Victory Tower, allowing cool gusts of Pluto's wintery climate inside. Glancing up, he could see the remains of the floors above, having held on for four centuries. His body had fallen with the balcony all the way from the Hall of Victories to the Atrium.
Twenty-three stories.
Such force. Such savagery.
He started laughing, foreign and unsettling amid the silence. A concoction of emotions coursed through him. There was no doubt about it: he was in the Victory Tower and it was abandoned. Derelict.
"What…what is the state of the system?" he then inquired.
"The Awoken Queen of the Reef, Mara Sov, controls the Reef. Highprince Uldren Sov controls the Last City on Earth." The thing…Ghost, it floated in front of him while answering his question. "There are several smaller and larger settlements strewn across," it then continued. "The interplanetary colonies are either under Grineer or Corpus control."
"...and the Orokin?" he asked. Larautas looked at his enlarged right arm; a symbol of potential, of the capability to grasp greater things. "What has become of our beautiful empire?" He feared the answer, for he knew, he was sure of it. After all, his people would never allow their creations to become…this.
"I brought you back because you have the Spark, Guardian but…" It hesitated. "The Orokin and their Empire have long since passed from the system. The Tenno have destroyed both before having disappeared themselves."
He nodded shakily as tears were welling in his eyes. Then he dropped to his knees and, unable to contain it, let out a guttural scream.
08.06.3006
Lieutenant Trajus Vakarian, Turian Military, THS Valetoria
Lieutenant Trajus Vakarian, Turian Military, THS Valetoria
Despite this being such a high-priority mission, there was awfully little happening. Perhaps it was just his impatience showing, but Trajus had expected the Hierarchy to treat the matter with a bit more urgency considering what they had been briefed with. Whether that fact was a good or bad thing was up for discussion but there was little to be done about that.
Having a Spectre of such renown as Kho'leen Janzhe on board of the THS Valetoria did manage to divert his attention at the very least. The 'Smiling Spectre' had quite the reputation if rumours about her past and exploits bore any merit. She was a very distinct sight strolling down the utilitarian halls of the ship in that red, white and black bodysuit of hers.
Her choice of companions, however, garnered much speculation and remained a point of heated discussion amongst the crew members despite being weeks since they'd arrived.
Cregun was of no surprise. The infamous Krogan mercenary had a tendency for participating in high-risk jobs, regardless of the pay. He had once been a member of the vicious Blood Pack before shunning them and going independent.
That a supposed Krogan super soldier now roamed the corridors of the Turian battle carrier brought a sense of unease to the higher-ups. But there was little they could do since he was now here to stay and at the Spectre's behest to boot.
Then, there was that bounty hunter, Sulu Soulrender – one of the most deadly killers to have ever graced the galactic underworld. It was said that the name was whispered to him from the dying lips of Drakne Shuun, a Drell assassin who had struck fear into the hearts of many crime syndicates for years before Sulu had tracked her down and shoved an omni-blade right into her heart.
Heavily armoured, well-equipped and quite frightening for a Quarian, the Soulrender had yet to fail in bringing a bounty he had hunted to the table. Dead or alive. In pieces or a pile of ashes. Rumours claimed that he was actually a Geth in disguise underneath that visor for how methodical and ruthless his killings tended to be.
Our vessel has certainly gained in characters of questionable repute at the very least, Trajus thought dryly.
Relay 314 had been activated a couple or so weeks ago and now they were busy with getting the whole network of relays up and running while trying to calculate the exact route of the alien fleet. They couldn't do much other than sparring and chatting, though the latter was not something he did overly often with the crew.
And so it went. They activated relays, catalogued them, placed comm buoys and calibrated communication lasers. The buoy transportation had been a logistical pain but solutions had been found and were being made use of.
Trajus, for now, spent his free time calibrating things that didn't need calibration but he had to keep busy somehow. It was a way to cope, he had to admit. To cope with the sneers and glares, to cope with the mocking during spars. He couldn't come up with a better way to distance himself from the rest of the vessel when there was so little space. Even as a recently promoted Lieutenant, he found it difficult to earn the respect of his peers.
Stowing himself away in the Armory was better than putting himself through the awkwardness of interacting with the rest.
Then he heard the low rumble of the elevators and couldn't help but groan. He stowed away his tools and the rifle and glared at the closed elevator doors as it landed on his floor. A moment later it slid open with a low hiss and out stepped Valetea Vitaso. Dark brown carapace with the white, elaborate markings of Taetrus painted on her curved facial plates made for a nice sight. However, she did annoy him quite a bit, even if she was kinder than others.
"Why is my favourite biotic Turian hiding away like some stowaway bareface?" she asked him while making her way toward the workbench he was occupying.
"What will it take to make you stop calling me that?" he groaned out. "I can't even tell if you actually are this obnoxious or if you are just trying to get a rise out of me."
"Probably both," Valetea replied, her mandibles flaring in a grin. "Spirits, are you trying to calibrate the whole damn ship?" she wondered aloud, nodding at the workbench. "We have crew for that, y'know?"
"I needed something to keep me busy while it's quiet." Which you happily disrupted. "Better than being up there," he added with a bitter mutter.
She waved his complaints off without a care. "Don't mind them. What're you calibrating anyway? The rifles?"
"Yes but I don't want you to –"
"I bet I can calibrate more than you within the next hour!" Valetea said and went to look for another toolbox, Trajus assumed.
He exhaled heavily. "Why do you have to make a competition out of everything?"
"Because it's more fun that way," she replied a moment later with a toolbox in hand. Trajus could faintly make out the name Macrinian on it and snorted. That hawked-up pellet hardly ever used his anyway. "Besides, isn't it way better this way than just…being here by yourself with no one to talk to?"
Trajus scoffed but didn't want to admit that she was right. Instead, he pointed at an unoccupied workbench a few paces to his left.
"Anyway," Valetea continued while pulling out Macrinian's tools and snatching a rifle from one of the weapon racks. "What do you think of the Spectre and her friends?"
"What's there to think?" Trajus replied, his mandibles now more relaxed as he grabbed a new rifle from a weapon rack and inspected it critically before resuming his mind-numbing, self-imposed task. "I haven't exactly had deep and stimulating conversations with any of them."
"And why's that, I wonder?" She didn't even bother hiding her sarcasm. Trajus chose to ignore it. "Cregun seems like someone I'd enjoy having a drink with," Valetea then said. "He seems alright…for a Krogan, that is."
He hummed in reply.
"The Quarian doesn't talk at all. Probably for the best, though. Don't wanna be in his sights if he ever goes hunting again."
"What about Spectre Janzhe?" Trajus inquired.
"I don't like her," was Valetea's blunt answer. "Done!"
He quickly turned to look at Valetea smugly showing him the rifle. "What? You can't be done this fast!" He grabbed the rifle from her and looked it over with overly critical eyes, going over the calibrations himself, checking the mechanisms, but he couldn't find any flaws in Valetea's work. "Damn," he muttered and handed her the rifle back so that she could place it back on the rack. He turned back to the rifle on his workbench and went back to work more feverishly now. "Why don't you like her?" he then asked.
"She's…unsettling," Valetea admitted, her mandibles tightening against her jaws. "She never smiles, never speaks unless spoken to first and watches everything and everyone, especially when they aren't looking at her. I feel judged by her whenever she's in my vicinity."
"Huh. I wonder how she got that moniker then if she never smiles."
"Me too." Then she suddenly perked up. "Maybe it's meant to be ironic. Or some reporter caught her smile once and hung it over her since then."
"I doubt that. Maybe she's just on edge because of the mission," Trajus mused.
"Could be," Valetea allowed, "but so far there's not much going on, is there? With each relay that's opened, I keep expecting something new and terrifying to pop up. Like those plant-sucking aliens from that horror vid Reno had us watch." She shuddered. "It's been underwhelming, I have to admit."
"You two enjoy those far too much for my liking," Trajus grumbled, "but we shouldn't underestimate the situation or overestimate the current calm."
"I know that," Valetea said. "Those aliens did destroy the THS Arterius. That's no small thing to do."
"And their entire escort too." He sighed. "I wonder what we'll end up finding."
"There you are," a sudden voice said, followed by a deep, raspy inhale. "I've been looking –," another breath, "– all over for you."
Trajus, his calibrations now all but forgotten, turned to see a Volus waddle over to them from the elevator. He hadn't even heard it.
"Reno. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Trajus asked with a sharp grin, now giving his friend his full attention.
Reno was a trained bomber pilot in service of the Turian military. What he couldn't provide as an infantry soldier in sheer physical force – which was typical for any Volus, really – Reno made up for with smarts and talent in what he did. He was a damn good pilot.
"I got…bored," Reno answered as he took a seat next to them. "One can suffer through…Turian military banter…only for so long."
"I take offence to that," Valetea said with narrowed eyes while showing off another perfectly calibrated rifle.
Trajus threw his hands up in annoyance. "You have got to be cheating!" Ignoring Reno, he turned back to the workbench.
"How did you…rope him into your…shenanigans again?" Trajus heard Reno ask, his voice tinged in exasperation.
"One of my many talents," Valetea answered proudly.
Trajus would have scoffed but he ignored it, concentrating on the task at hand.
As frustrating and annoying as it was, Trajus couldn't deny his gratefulness for having Valetea with him on this mission. From boot camp to being assigned to the THS Valetoria, she had been with him.
Being a Turian biotic wouldn't have been so bad if he had been part of the Cabal but on a vessel with 'regular' soldiers? That brought forth questions, particularly because his father was the Primarch. It was an open secret that Vetis Vakarian pulled some strings to not have him be handed over to the black ops unit upon the discovery of his biotic abilities.
Distrust became animosity and every promotion was accompanied by questions.
His father had meant well and he still did. Trajus knew that his rather slow climb up the ranks was also a result of the Primarch's interference. He had to work twice as hard to earn his promotions and one would think that it would earn him respect also but no; or rather, here and there, maybe, but the open animosity was the dominating opinion on this vessel.
Valetea and Reno were different in that regard and he was thankful for it, most certainly.
"Another one!" she then called out.
Trajus felt pure disbelief. "Come on!"
She definitely had to be cheating somehow.
08.06.3006
Tenno Savis, Banshee Prime
Tenno Savis, Banshee Prime
The Lotus had been right. Upon their entry into the asteroid belt, they had been immediately hailed by the Awoken; the Queen of the Reef had demanded an audience with them.
Their slow approach had taken them a few days longer than estimated but, in the end, they were here. It took less than two hours, as the Cephalon fruitlessly tried to navigate this maze of rocks and debris before a squadron of Awoken jumpships suddenly appeared out of the wreckage and surrounded the Orbiter. Following the Lotus's advice, Savis had accepted the summons and ordered the Cephalon to follow the jumpships towards their base. One way or another, the third Warframe, the third Tenno, needed to wait for a bit longer. He or she would surely be capable of doing so.
Now, however, while being escorted by Awoken guards from the hangar down a large ramp, Toras and she were taking in the sight of this Queendom, or, at the very least, a glimpse of it. She could make out bits and pieces of old colony ships but also the remains of the Old War, of Orokin vessels, of military vessels of the Dax soldiers – it all had been repurposed to construct this stronghold upon solid, floating rocks and she was impressed.
She wondered what this Queen of the Reef character wanted of them. They had no business and no quarrel with her or her people. Was it mere curiosity? Probably, and it wouldn't surprise her either.
Four centuries had passed since the Old War and the subsequent fall of the Orokin Empire by their hands. Very few – if any – of the living today had been witness to those troubled times. How much had been passed on? How much was known of the Tenno or their golden masters? Of the war against the Sentient?
The looks of open curiosity they were receiving from the Awoken people they were passing by revealed no answers to her questions. All that was left for her to do was to wonder and to follow their escorts.
Something Savis found fascinating about the Reef was that metal had mainly been used for the floor they were walking on. Much of the rest was thick, sturdy glass, allowing them to look outside. They could see the many asteroids moving as one in their endless cycle, warships looming in the distance entering and exiting the vicinity of the open hangars while the debris field of the Reef followed the pull of gravity. The dust and fog of space were illuminated by the lights inside, the blue and red hues making for a purple spectacle; it was a pretty sight. A citadel built from massive husks of countless ships, now it was a place housing tens or hundreds of thousands of these Awoken, in their various shades of blue.
Savis would be lying if she said that she hadn't felt startled at first upon laying eyes on them for the very first time mere moments ago. After all, their eyes, their skin – it was similar to the Orokin in some ways, yet, at second glance, quite different.
And when they passed through a pair of heavy doors and stepped into a vast, great hall, the difference between Orokin and Awoken became even more blatant. There, lounging almost lazily on a throne made of smooth metal and red cushions, sat an Awoken woman with pale blonde, almost white hair and bright blue eyes, gazing at them evenly as they approached. It was layered and oddly spiky. Savis idly wondered just how much of her morning it took to get her hair done like this. It looked so elaborate and lovely but she doubted that she would be able to do anything even close to this with her own hair. She had to stop herself from raising her hand to her head. All that she would be able to touch would be the metal and glowing, pulsing blue tendrils on Banshee Prime's head.
The woman was clad in a dark pink tunic, reinforced with brown chest guards strapped across her torso and pauldrons covering her shoulders. Leather trousers, metal greaves and high-heeled boots stretched over her legs and thighs. Dark furs wrapped around her shoulders and a pink choker decorated her neck, giving notice to a simple gold pendant resting above her breasts, which completed her attire.
So this was Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef and ruler of the Awoken.
The centre of the room, where the throne sat on a raised dais, was situated at the far end of the long platform they were walking on. It was held in place and stabilised by several thick cables and metal bars, whereas there was nothing but a deep fall to their left and right. A red carpet rimmed in gold led up to the steps of the dais and where it began, their guards stopped, as did they. To the Queen's right stood a grim-looking Awoken man with pitch-black hair and cloaked in armour.
"I expected one and yet here are two," Mara Sov mused, speaking in a deep and weathered voice that betrayed her youthful countenance.
Her glowing blue eyes bore into them, as if trying to unravel their thoughts through sheer gaze alone. Savis could practically feel Toras's unease next to her. Thankfully, he didn't fidget under the Queen's stare.
There was a bout of silence as Mara Sov studied them and Savis, in turn, stared back with Banshee Prime's faceless features. Neither of them uttered a word. Then, the Queen turned to the man on her right. "Does it speak, Uldren?"
"I don't know, sister," the man, Uldren, the Queen's brother apparently, answered. He didn't turn his glare away from Toras or her, however. "The Orokin have always kept the secrets of their creations close to their chests, even to their graves…be it the Sentient or these…unsightly things."
Toras didn't react and neither did she. Savis had a feeling that her fellow Tenno took guidance from her, despite being her senior by two years. Good thing he did too. If Mara Sov and her people didn't know about the secrets of a Warframe and how it was being operated then they surely didn't need to present them with the truth on a silver platter. That secret was much too big and important and should not be divulged lightly.
"A shame." Mara Sov's right leg was crossed over her left and she was leaning heavily to her throne's left, her left arm resting on the armrest and her right on her right thigh. She didn't move her body, not even an inch. A statue, speaking, moving its head. "Warframes," she then began after another moment's silence. Her voice was soft, bordering on disinterested. "Monuments of an era forgotten. I have seen their kind fight in a war begat by their masters and followed with great interest how they…erased an entire society and culture with such casual savagery. I cannot deny that the very reality of not one, but two standing here has piqued my curiosity.
"After most of the Orokin had perished under their hands, there were survivors yet, still spread across the system. It is said that the Warframes…Tenno…have hunted them relentlessly for decades. Under guidance." The barest of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "The Lotus, or so this character has dubbed herself. Will she reveal herself to us or will she maintain this game of hide-and-seek?"
"You heard the Queen, Tenno. Will the Lotus speak on your behalf?" the Queen's brother inquired directly.
Savis shook her head, annoyance brewing inside of her. It felt as if the Queen of the Reef was speaking about them rather than to them, despite standing before her in their Warframes.
"A shame." Now Mara Sov's voice was clearer, stronger. She moved, her legs uncrossing before she got up to her feet. "You seek another of your kind?" she asked, addressing them directly for the first time. Despite the phrasing, it didn't feel like a question.
Savis nodded.
"And Jupiter is your goal?" the Queen of the Reef pressed on.
Again, she nodded with Banshee Prime's head.
"Very well. I will grant you passage and information…under one condition." She glanced at them intently, her expression not changing in the slightest. Those bright, glowing eyes of hers were most unsettling. "Should the Awoken ever need an ally I will call upon you. And expect you to answer."
"She's saying you owe us," her brother Uldren clarified rather unnecessarily.
Savis nodded, accepting those terms while gritting her teeth. A Warframe's lack of facial features was a boon once more.
"On Jupiter, there is a member of the Corpus Board of Directors: Alad V," the Queen revealed. "My spies have recently brought to my attention rumours that this particular Corpus has been conducting rather unsavoury experiments on…Warframes."
Toras visibly twitched next to her and she moved Banshee Prime's slender hand to place it on Rhino Prime's broad shoulder; a gesture so loud and clear, she might as well have screamed at him to remain calm.
"Hm." Mara Sov narrowed her eyes. She was suspicious and very obviously so. "I would be stretching my forces thin were I to address this growing concern at my doorstep, remarkably so when they are all needed here for a looming invasion which might befall our system soon." Curious. Was this the threat the Lotus had mentioned before? "You, however…you will go to Jupiter and do what you must," Mara Sov continued. "Alad V's forces are looking for a particular Warframe to further his experiments; one that is active…and, perhaps the one you are looking for?" She paused, blatantly observing them. "I assume that you understand how of utmost importance it is that he does not get his hands on it."
Savis understood alright. She nodded again.
"I have shown you benevolence, Tenno," the Queen of the Reef said, raising her chin a bit higher and looking down at…on them. "You understand what I expect in turn."
Again, she nodded. Then she turned and left, taking the dismissal for what it was with Rhino Prime following her. The Queen's guards did not attempt to stop them.
A favour for a favour, nothing more, nothing less.
She may style herself a Queen, Mara Sov, but she was not their master. Those who thought themselves their masters had found their fates at the end of their guns and blades.
No one would put chains on them anymore.
No Orokin, no Awoken.
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