Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

*SPANG* *SPANG*

The sound of steel striking steel rang out over the rooftops of Cetus. The noise was everywhere, though it did not fill the settlement so much as probe it. It couldn’t overpower the bustle of the city’s open air market. It wound its way through the people, dodging gestures and dipping under shouts to reverberate off the stalls. It reached the outskirts of the city, racing to the rocks that ringed the city then ricocheted off, dissipating over the lake to the South. The ring of steel on steel reflected off transports and landing craft on their way in and out of the city; an acoustic accompaniment to the sunlight that glinted from the smooth hulls of the ships.

*SPANG* *SPANG*

The sound could be traced back to a great furnace just outside the market. It sat just outside the maelstrom of color and noise at the heart of Cetus. People from all over the Origin System flocked to Cetus for their unique crafts. The natives were easy to spot. The hand woven clothes of the Ostron stood out in the throng of skinsuits and glowing helms. There was a sense of tense jubilation. Nowhere else could you find relay workers, Corpus, and Tenno all walking alongside each other. It was a carefully enforced peace, kept through the grace of the huge white and gold structure that towered over the settlement. Possibly the most precious gift in a world swallowed by chaos; safety.

*SPANG* *SPANG*

Black smoke and embers belched from the chimney. The open furnace bathed the smithy in orange light. Tools were scattered about the area in a sort of controlled chaos. Multiple projects stood partially completed. There was the dented dome of a thumper next to a huge maul. A glowing power cell hung suspended from a heavy timber scaffold, illuminating the remains of the Corpus bike it once powered.

*SPANG* *SPANG*

Near the furnace stood an anvil, and the source of the noise blanketing the settlement.

Nikta, an apprentice blacksmith, hammered at a piece of steel, flipping it from one side to the other with a pair of tongs. She lifted the metal to her tanned face and gave a satisfied nod, then dunked the blade in a bucket of water and left it to hiss and steam. The young blacksmith removed her heavy apron and hung it on a hook next to the workbench. She wore as simple of an outfit as possible while working at the forge — white tunic, loose fitting pants, and heavily insulated boots — as opposed to the layers of cloth wrappings, fur and leather traditionally worn by the Ostron. She’d been working at the forge for seven years now, and had no idea how Hok could stand working in the heat wearing as much as he did.

A water trough stood nearby, and she grabbed a ladle hanging from the side. She scooped up the clear water and drained the ladle in a long swig, before going back for seconds, then thirds. She rehung the ladle and lifted up a small bucket to fill, then emptied it on her head. The water had been sitting in the sun all day but it was refreshing in comparison to the furnace. The water dislodged a few strands of hair from her messy bun in the process. Black tendrils followed the water down her neck, coming to rest on the tops of her shoulders. She undid her bun and let the rest of her hair follow suit. She was done with the furnace for the day, and a ponytail would suffice.

The water had stopped hissing, and the young blacksmith put on a thick glove to pull her work from the bucket. It was a decent piece of work, not her best but by no means her worst. The blade was about a meter long. It curved back around on itself about a third of the way down, forming a vicious looking hook.

“Nikta! Hey, Nikta!”

Nikta turned to greet a scrawny youth running from the market. Adolescence wasn’t treating the boy well, and he moved like he hadn’t quite figured out how his lanky arms and legs were meant to work.

“Hello Pedlek, I assume Hok is looking for me?”

Pedlek was Hok’s much maligned shop assistant. He was a good kid. Not the most driven youth, but far from the scoundrel Hok made him out to be. Although, she did agree with Hok’s decision that Pedlek wasn’t to handle anything sharp or hot on his own.

“Yeah… he… asked that… phew!” He bent over and put his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths.

Nikta rolled her eyes, not at the boy, but at Hok. She was sure he’d described all sorts of horrible things he’d do if Pedlek didn’t get her quickly enough. Taking pity on him, she motioned for Pedleck to follow her and walked to a shack near the furnace.

It was a slapdash structure. Most Ostron houses were circular and made from earth or stone, but the smith’s shack was a wooden box. It made it easier to take down walls to fit iddly shaped projects inside. A large machine stood in the center of the room, a series of slits in a variety of shapes covered one face, and the rest of the mechanisms extended back into the room. The machine was paneled in sheets of metal scavenged from downed Grineer ships, making it lopsided and bulbous. Nikta began punching instructions into the control panel while Pedleck caught his breath in the doorway. She carefully fed her latest work into one of slits. It rattled in the entrance, before being caught by an unseen mechanism. The blade had to be surrendered quickly, or a few of Nikta’s fingers would have been pulled into the machine with it. A loud whirring grew and the entire building vibrated with the noise. This would hone the blade then harden the steel.

Pedlek leaned on a workbench, staring at the machine appreciatively. Nikta filled two cups from a clay pitcher and offered one to the boy. He took the cup and drank greedily from it. Nikta simply sipped from hers while waiting for him to speak.

“Okay.” Pedlek exhaled and set his cup down. “Hok wants you to check in with him as soon as you can. In the meantime, I’m supposed to pack up your most recent work for shipping.”

Nikta nodded slowly, she had an idea of what Hok wanted her to do. “How much of my recent stuff?”

“All of it.”

Nikta set her cup down. “Alright, I’ll go change then meet Hok at his stall. I’ll leave the packing to you.” She headed toward the door.

“Which one’s are yours?” Pedlek gestured around the inside of the workshop. Weapons of all shapes and sizes covered the the walls. A half a years worth of practice in total.

“All of them.”

#

It was almost an hour before Nikta left to find Hok. It took a while to clean off the caked on sweat and soot from a blacksmith’s work. This was probably her least favorite part of smithing.

Nikta chose to dress more traditionally for the market. She traded her smithing clothes for a long cloth wrapping that wound from her upper chest down to each of her ankles. Over this she wore a simple cloth dress and a long leather vest. The interior of the vest was filled with pockets in which she kept small tools and useful parts. It was rare for her to make it all the way through Cetus without being asked to tinker with some worn out piece of tech. She never said no, even if it did make her reliably late for everything.

She followed the outskirts of the city, taking the long way around to Hok’s stand. This would bring her around the front of the giant double gates that lead to the Plains of Eidolon. This was the only way in or out of the city by foot, and it was common to see groups of Tenno entering by the gate after finishing various tasks in the plains.

Nearly every child in Cetus grew up fascinated by the Tenno. Ancient warriors possessing powers regular humans could only dream of. They rode Warframes, creations of arcane technology the Tenno could possess at will, although no one knew how they accomplished this. Nikta was no different. She'd practically worshiped the Tenno when she was younger. An incident in her early adolescence had shaken her faith, but she still saw them as a force of good. She still had a keen interest in the ways of these enigmatic warriors.

There were no Tenno queuing at the gate today. Instead, a group of about two dozen Ostron were preparing a couple gravity sleds to venture onto the plains. Some of the group carried masonry tools, while others wore weapons. Many carried both.

“Hey! Hey!”

Nikta looked at the crowd and immediately recognized the one shouting and waving at her. She detoured through the group, and met up with a man near one of the sleds. He was a shorter than her, built of compact muscle and attitude. Blonde stubble covered his face and extended up to his head. This was Crae, one of her closest childhood friends.

“What’s up?” Nikta jerked her head towards the nearby sled. “Going scavenging? I thought we just sent out a party.”

Crae shook his head and began pulling on the straps lining the sled, securing the tools inside. “Not quite. The masons need a lot more stone for a project so we’re going out to mine a few blocks.” Crae’s muscle’s rippled as he pulled the straps taught.

Nikta stepped forward and grabbed one of the other straps and pulled while her friend was busy. She managed to tighten the strap and drop it before Crae got to it. He gave it a yank only to realize it was already tight. The militiaman grinned. The two had been in friendly, and less than friendly, competition with each other since childhood.

“Konzu finally okayed repairing the main landing pads,” he said. “We’re doing it right this time, so we’ll need the hardest stuff we can get.”

Nikta nodded thoughtfully. It made sense they were finally going to rebuild the landing pads. “Who’s in charge?” Crae opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a deep voice.

“That would be me.”

A pair of muscular arms snaked around Nikta’s midsection and lifted her into the air.

“Nope. Down. Down!” She shouted in protest at the manhandling and the arms released her, dropping her to the ground with small puffs of dust. She turned on the man behind her. “Alphim, I have told you before, I am not just some sack of potatoes to throw around.” They had this conversation every couple of months, and the same look of hurt confusion spread over the man's face.

Alphim was two years Nikta and Crae’s senior but the three had been fast friends since childhood.  Alphim was reserved and thoughtful where Crae was brash and hotheaded. The two worked together well despite their differences. Nikta couldn’t help but feel envious of them. She’d drifted apart from them after being adopted by Hok, and their relationship changed further when they hit their teen years.

“You’re going out too?” It was rare that Alphim was okayed to leave the settlement. The young man was the son of the most skilled mason in Cetus and well on his way to take his father’s place.

He nodded, “My father decided it would be best if I accompanied the team to ensure the quality of the materials.” His voice was deep but always quieter than anyone expected.

Crae walked over and threw an arm around Alphim’s shoulder. “Basically we’re off on an adventure. You want in?” He looked expectantly at Nikta, but she shook her head sadly.

“I’d love to but there’s too much going on right now.” They’d all dreamed of someday going on grand adventures on the plains, but her path only seemed to diverge more and more. “I’m off to see Hok now. I expect I’ll be spending the rest of today wailing on that damned thumper turret you dragged in.”

Crae’s face lit up at the mention of his most recent prize. Dragging the piece of burnt out tech had apperently been quite the ordeal, one he was always ready to recount to anyone who would sit and listen. “Great! When can I have the gun?”

Nikta rolled her eyes. “The gun is going to be stripped for parts, just like the rest of the turret.”

Crae stuck out his bottom lip. “But I want it…”

Alphim shook his head. “C’mon, the quicker we get out there, the quicker we get back.”

Crae waved his hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah.”

The preparations seemed to be winding down, and many of the newer scavengers were starting to look antsy. It was a sharp contrast to Nikta's friends' bravado. She took the darkening mood as a sign that it was time to go. She embraced her friends, breathing in the sweat and rock dust that hung about them. “Be careful out there.” The levity had left her voice, “We can’t afford losing you two to some random Grineer patrol.” The Ostron had suffered some major losses due to a recent surge in Grineer Ghouls on the plains.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Crae patted her arm before going back to tightening straps. “This’ll be no… hrg... problem.”

Alphim gave Nikta’s hand a squeeze before helping Crae with the straps. She was walking away when Alphim called back to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring Crae back no matter how many pieces he’s in.”

Nikta snorted. There was a muted thump, and shouts of dramatic indignation from the other side of the sled. Her smile drained as she walked. Hopefully Konzu wouldn’t be sending a Tenno search party out that evening. 

Chapter Text

The open air market was a flurry of activity. Merchants shouted out their wares, and the crowd was awash in colors. The earthy tones of the Ostron, metallic glints of Corpus tech, and the rainbow of colors represented by the Tenno all swirled in the hub of activity. The smell of savory, fried fish mingled with sweet fruits and body odor. It seemed chaotic, but there was a pattern to the city. Nikta could probably find Hok’s stand with her eyes closed. It would be easy, just follow the smell of kavat dander to Master Teasonai’s then cross the square.

She ended up stopping by Teasonai’s, spending a moment to scratch a kubrow behind the ears. It was a burly breed with brown and white striped fur. It pressed its head against her thigh as she scratched at its neck. The tip of its moist, leathery nose brushed her arm and sent shivers down her spine. It was a pleasant way to kill time while waiting for a Tenno to finish their business with her master.

The Tenno were treated with the utmost respect in Cetus. They were both customers and guardians, and the Ostron liked to stay on their good side. They were also physically intimidating. Most bristled with weapons and all were completely silent, communicating through basic gestures. Konsu had a short range relay that allowed him to converse with Tenno traveling the plains, but most Ostron relied on signs. No one really enjoyed interacting with the traveling warriors, but this had never stopped Nikta. She mainly didn’t want to interrupt Hok while he worked.

 The old smith no longer towered over her, but he remained intimidating nonetheless. He had a powerful physique, with thick, muscular arms and broad chest. More than one young warrior had taken the smith to be past his primed and gotten thrown through the window of the local bar as a result. Their mistake was assuming all strength looked like the perfectly crafted form of a warframe, with contoured and well defined muscles. Sometimes, true strength had a bit of a belly.

Hok was currently speaking with an example of just such perfection, an extremely muscular frame stood before him, observing the smith's wares. Hok pulled out zaw after zaw, turning them in his hands and pointing out how sharp a blade was, or how solidly the head of a hammer was constructed. The man didn’t seem to notice how his customer loomed over him.

The Tenno as wearing a Hildryn style frame, and Nikta took a moment to admire the powerful warframe as she absently rubbed her new friend between the ears. She wondered what inspired the Tenno’s choice of grey with yellow and red accents. It was one of her favorite frames, but she wasn’t sure about the color scheme.

Every Ostron had a favorite frame whether they admitted it or not. Nikta had been a Nyx girl growing up. It was a rather uninspired choice, but she owned it now. She’d wanted to grow up to be a Nyx like so many of her peers. Her tastes changed after her brother disappeared, taken by the Tenno for some unknown reason. His last gift to her was a carving of a newly discovered warframe; a Baruuk. She found that style calming ever since, and held the frame close to her heart, but Hildryn was her favorite now. She was a Hildryn, after all.

Nikta had curves, no matter what salty travelers said when she beat them at arm wrestling, but these were obscured by muscles built up over years in the forge. She tried to wear her physique with the same pride that a Hildryn did, chest puffed out and ready to take on the world. Field reports indicated that the frame wasn’t just strong, it also served a defensive role by sharing shields with its comrades in battle. It was a very Ostron frame by nature. She liked to think it was a very ‘Nikta’ frame.

Movement startled her from her reverie and she shook her head clear. The Tenno had finished with Hok’s and was about to leave. They had turned and were now staring back at Nikta. Heat flooded the young blacksmith’s cheeks and she looked away, focusing on the kubrow happily panting next to her. It was hard to tell what Tenno were looking at behind the blank faceplates of their frames, but it felt like she’d been caught staring.

The frame was gone when she looked up, and Hok was back to rearranging his sample zaws. Nikta hoisted herself from her crate and crossed the thoroughfare, ignoring the disappointed whimper behind her. She dodged between a pair of rusted MOA carrying satchels, turning to get a look at the machines as she went. One had a bit of a limp, and the other’s head was cocked at a strange angle, probably a bad servo. She watched them as they disappeared down the road. They were likely couriers for a skinflint merchant, unwilling to shell out the cash for basic maintenance. She might be able to make a few credits if she could convince their owner to let her work on them. Her services would be far cheaper than an official Corpus dealership.

“Swaz’ Hok.” She greeted her mentor as she approached. “Pedlek said you wanted to see me?”

“Swazdo-lah,” he replied, still in business mode. “Good to see the lazy bum decided to deliver my message. Is he doing what I asked?”

“Yup.” Nikta went around the side of the stand and leaned against the counter. “He may even have all his fingers when he’s done.”

Hok laughed at this. He absently spun a slender zaw in one hand. It was an elegant rapier that caught the light and sent small rainbows dancing through the market. It was a weapon worthy of a great warrior, and unlike anything Nikta had produced.

“I’m surprised you’re able to sell my work. I thought they ‘weren’t suitable for a Grineer, much less a Tenno.’”

“They aren’t going to a Tenno.” He set the weapon down and crossed his arms.

“Oh?” Nikta raised an eyebrow at this. The Tenno were the only non-Ostron who used zaws in battle. Occasionally you’d get a Corpus merchant interested in a display piece, but none of her work was remotely show-worthy.

“I received an offer for a bulk sale. We aren’t going to make much off of it, but it’ll clear up some space.”

“A bulk buyer? Like a syndicate?” she asked.

Hok hesitated and his eyes darted around the market. Nikta couldn’t help but look around nervously in response. Their little area was packed with Ostron, a few Tenno, and a couple courier MOA. Satisfied, the man leaned close. “I have an old… business partner off world. He arranged for a group of Solari to pick them up.”

“I didn’t think Solari were allowed to have… oh.”

The Origin System was a hard place to make a living, and if you weren’t allowed to be armed then you probably should be.

Hok nodded at her unstated realization. “Exactly. I need you to drop the merchandise this afternoon.”

She had a brief flash of uncertainty at the idea. Selling weapons to the Solari probably violated some agreement between the Ostron and the Corpus that allowed the two to peaceably coexist. She reminded herself that her first thought at seeing a couple of rusty MOA was to offer to void their warranties. Business was business, something the Corpus could hopefully respect.

“I can do that.” Nikta said. Hok smiled at her, and it was a good one. The genuine kind that said he was proud, not the sardonic kind he made when he saw a good ‘teaching moment.’ Warmth filled Nikta’s chest. It was one thing to meet her adoptive father’s expectations in the forge, it was another to live up to his expectations as a person.

“Good.” He gestured for her to get in close. “Here’s what you’ll need to do…”

#

Heat mirages shimmered and danced along the rock ledges ringing the city as Nikta carried her package to the edge of the city. It was the hot season, and the afternoon sun seemed especially fierce that day. The market never closed, but it may as well have been. The crowd was thinned considerably, and only the Tenno, comfortably insulated in their warframes, remained unfazed. Even the harvesters had ended their work early that day. Slabs of gilded flesh lay stinking on the outskirts of the town, left to be processed after the heat broke later that evening. Temple kuva pooled on the ground, its sweet, almost berry-like smell baked off in the sun, leaving behind something more like motor oil mixed with bile.

She stopped to wipe her brow and shift the bundle slung across her back. Pedlek had done an admirable job packing the weaponry, managing to fit it all into a single sack. It was nearly as tall as Nikta and heavy as hell though. The scrawny boy had been forced to abandon it where it lay when he finished. Nikta could lift it, but she was hunched under the weight. Thankfully, she was almost to her destination.

The Solari ship had landed on the farthest outskirts of town, beyond the processing fields. Corpus merchants were a neurotic lot, and avoided the ‘unhygienic’ land where the Ostron kept flesh freshly harvested from Unum. The only ones who would have noticed the beat up lander were Ostron workers or the silent Tenno.

A group of Solari workers lounged in the shade cast by the lander. Some sat on crates, others lay on the ground, or propped up on the feet of the shuttle. They appeared relaxed, but none of the crew seemed to fully settle. This was easily attributed to the oppressive and unfamiliar heat, but the illegal weapon trade probably wasn’t helping.

“Hey hot stuff, you here to sell somethin?” A figure stepped from the shade of the ship as she approached.

The man, or at least she assumed they were a man, their voice-box was set to a masculine tone, wore a stripped down Solari uniform. It was basically a hazard suit with the sleeves ripped off and the pant legs rolled up to combat the heat. The alterations couldn’t have been doing much, one of the man’s arms had been replaced with a mechanical manipulator, and he was still wearing the bulky chest piece worn by all Solari. His head was a tall rectangle with a single, over-sized lens set in the middle. It could almost pass as a helmet, rather than a replacement.  

Nikta nodded. “Yeah, thought I’d bring my wares to you. Save you some walking.” Nikta let her package drop with a heavy thud and leaned it against a nearby crate. The man stood before Nikta and crossed his arms. He wasn’t much taller than her, but his boxy head gave him a bit of extra height. 

Nikta hadn’t dealt much with the Solari. She’d expected not being able to read their faces to make her uncomfortable but their body language made it easier. Years of watching stoic Tenno walk through town probably helped.

“Well, hot stuff, what’ve you got for me?”

“Anything you need. I’ve got the wares if you’ve got the business.” Nikta dug into the word ‘business’, pronouncing the S’s as Z’s like Hok had instructed. 

There was an audible whir as the lenses in the man’s helm refocused on her. “You’re out action doc?” he asked.

“Yeah, what of it?” Hok had told her she was an ‘action doc’ but hadn’t actually explained what that meant. 

The work boss was silent for a moment then waved one of his hands over. A boy hopped up from where he was sitting. It was hard to tell under his clothes, but he appeared to be a teen, built very much like Pedlek, although any pockmarks on his face were hidden beneath steel, just like the others. “Take the VIP to his quarters, terminal.” 

The boy nodded and grabbed Nikta’s package. He wrapped his arms around it and strained to lift it, but only managed to topple it over. Both boy and bundle hit the ground in a cloud of dust. Nikta did her best to hide her smile but the others weren’t so considerate. A chorus of laughter and jeers rose as the boy scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off. He looked around, the oblong disc that was his head still managing to betray his embarrassment. 

“Tek, get over here and give me a hand,” he yelled. Another man, Tek, ran over and the two lifted the bag by either end and carried it to the ship.

“You aren’t who I was expecting.” The crew leader leaned against the side of the lander and gave Nikta what she assumed was a sidelong look.

“My boss was busy. Sorry, I know he’s much easier on the eyes.” She was ready to leave already, but she would play nice. Customers were customers, and Hok wouldn’t approve of her scaring them off. Not yet, at least.

“Well, why don’t you stick around. Have a drink, we can get to know each other. We aren’t taking off for another couple days. I always like making friends, no matter where I dock.”

“Are you hitting on me?” she asked.

The man stood a little taller, “What if I am?”

“Sorry, not interested.” Nikta broke into an evil grin as she went in for the kill, “See, I like guys who have a good head on their shoulders, or, at the very least, a head on their shoulders.” She reached forward rapped her knuckles on the metal plate covering the man’s chest.

A chorus of oooh’s rose from the other workers, and the tension broke among the crew members, if only briefly. The leader crossed his arms and she did the same, subtly flexing her so her muscles bulged. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was stronger than his spindly cybernetic.

The boss threw back his head and laughed with the others. Nikta gave him an uncertain smile. 

“Alright, tough stuff. I should have known better than to test my luck.” The Solari dropped his posture and dug through his pockets and pulled out a bundle of credits. “Here’s payment for the weapons. Tell your boss his contribution is appreciated.”

Nikta took the the little bundle and shoved it in her own pocket without bothering to count it. Hok could be obtuse, but she knew this deal wasn’t about the profit.

“Thanks. There’ll be plenty more where that came from,” she said.

“Hopefully we won’t need em.”

Nikta nodded without really knowing what to say. The Corpus treated the Solaris poorly, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the politics of the relationship. The Ostron were somewhat lucky in this regard. The Grineer were an ever present threat to Cetus, but at least they didn’t have to pretend like the Grineer were anything but bastards.

Most of the Solari appeared to be relaxing, now that they got what they came for. Most went back to lazing around, this time for real. A deck of playing cards was produced and a group circled up to play a game. Even the boss seemed to have relaxed. His body language was much more laid back now that the transaction was done.

“I’m Nikta, by the way.” She extended a hand, which the work boss took with his prosthetic arm.

“Jax, good to meet you. I take it you’re this Hok guy’s apprentice?”

Nikta hesitated. She’d just assumed she was delivering the weapons to someone who had at least talked to Hok before.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t really fit what you were expecting," she said.

“Nope.” Jax hopped up on a large crate and leaned over, one hand on a leg. “Biz just said to expect a big guy with an attitude.”

Hok had never mentioned a ‘Biz’ before, but she knew he’d left Cetus to travel for a few years as a young man. It made sense that he had connections. She desperately wanted to ask about this guy, find more out about Hok's youth and who he was involved with. This was not the place though. The Solari were relaxed now, but they didn't really know her. It wouldn't take much to put them back on edge. She did her best to ignore her questions and kept the banter going.

“Yeah, well tell Biz that he’s bigger and meaner than ever.”

Jax slapped his leg. “Can do. Ah, shit, do you need to get back to work?” he asked.

Nikta shrugged. “The longer I’m here the less I have to do at the forge.”

“Been there, done that.” Jax leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Why don’t you go be here somewhere else for a bit. I won’t tell.”

It was Nikta’s turn to laugh. She wasn't one to cut work, but she appreciated the gesture. She may have even gotten up to some trouble in honor of Jax, but there wasn't much to do with Crae and Alphim out on the plains. “Yeah, sounds good. Sho-lah.”

“Keep the shiny side up, tough stuff.” Jax made a fist with thumb and pinky extended and twisted it in the air in her direction. Nikta assumed it to be friendly and tried to copy him. It felt unnatural, but it got a cheer from the rest of the Solari.

She turned and made her way home, thinking about the iced fruit juice she’d pick up on the way. She may even get one for Hok, if she was feeling generous. After that it would be back to the forge. Or she'd go chase down that merchant with the malfunctioning MOA. That was the problem with life in Cetus, there was always one more thing to do. A loud crack broke the stillness of the day, the sonic boom from a liset as it ripped through the air on its way out of the atmosphere. Nikta stopped to watch it rise. She wondered if the Tenno ever felt the same way; if they were as busy as the people they protected, or if they got to take days off. She hoped they could take the breaks but she couldn't imagine what a Tenno would do in their spare time. She had trouble imagining one of those noble warriors sitting with their feet in the water, relaxing as the world turned around them.

Chapter Text

Trillium sat by the edge of the water, doing her best to ignore the voices in her head. She kicked her feet a little, enjoying the cool resistance of the pond and how the little minnows fled as she moved. The plains were brutally hot today but she didn't care. The sun was beating down on her skin. Her skin! She wouldn’t have been able to conceive of the idea a year ago. She’d been regretting her decision to take the Rite of Remembering, and this was a good reminder of all the benefits that came with the rite.

No one had warned her what the rite entailed, or what it would do to her. It was something of an unspoken agreement among the Tenno. The rite was taken only when a Tenno was ready, and those that took it did their best to hide its nature from the uninitiated. Trillium received only vague references how nice it would be to walk free from the shell of a warframe before taking it. No one warned about the nightmares. Or the Man in the Wall.

She’d undergone the rite a few months ago. The ordeal was long and difficult, though not as difficult as it had been for the first Tenno to remember. Members of her clan talked her through the experience, their voices her only solace as she re-lived her time on the Zariman Ten Zero, remembering traumas long suppressed. It was one of the worst experiences of her life, second only to her first time experiencing the disaster, but she made it through. The process of remembering helped her Oro find its way home, and she woke in her original, human body.

Life had been a whirlwind since then. The missions never stopped, but she was becoming more capable than ever. She’d been taking on more and more until Ordis, her ship’s cephalon, had suggested that she take the day off. The thought had never occurred to her before, she didn’t need days off before the rite, but Orids had insisted. She planned out a day to visit Cetus and go fishing. She’d originally planned the trip to placate her cephalon, but she had to admit that taking time for herself felt nice.

A splash caught the Tenno’s attention and she opened one eye to check the tip of her rod. It was completely still. The fish were jumping today, but not biting. She craned her neck to look up at the figure towering over her and smiled. Hildryn was immobile without her in it, reduced to the deadliest fishing rod stand in the system.

There was a soft tone in her ear, followed by a voice. “Operator, you requested that I let you know when there were two hours before sunset.”

“Thank you, Ordis,” she responded.

“I would like to point out that you asked me not to disturb you before now, which I believe I have done remarkably well at.”

“Yes, thank you. Please go back to not disturbing me until I’m back on the orbiter.”

Ordis did not respond, at least not directly, but Trillium could still hear him grumbling to himself.

The cephalon was right, he had done a remarkable job of resisting his co-dependent nature, but he did have a habit of talking to himself. Not that she could talk. Something about turning off their communication channel felt wrong, and she’d remained connected all day and done her best to tune Ordis’ chatter out.

Trillium stood and stretched, her ankles still in the water. She twisted her body back and forth and shaded her eyes against the sun. The world was bathed in gold, and bird song filled the air. She breathed in the smell of grass and trees, and scanned the mountain ranges in the distance, appreciating the snow capped peaks. The sun was just starting to set and the Grineer had all hunkered down for the night, waiting for the first sentients had yet to emerge. She considered spooking some Grineer on her way back to Cetus. Maybe post up outside one of their encampents and lob a few balefire shots into their tents. It was tempting, but she’d managed to go an entire day without a fight, and she didn’t want to start now.

She closed her eyes and felt for the little line of energy running between herself and her warframe. She grabbed onto that thread and followed it. Her body turned to energy and rushed to the suit, filling it, and the two became one. Trillium was no longer alone. The power of Hidryn filled her, as did her warframe's thoughts. Righteous fury filled her belly. The idea of fighting a few Grineer became far more appealing. The clone bastards were always looking for someone weaker to prey on and they had whatever they got coming to them. A few more smoking craters wouldn’t hurt the plains, and a few less Grineer could only help the Ostron.

The thought had barely materialized when a beam of light lanced from a nearby hill, impacting right where the Tenno had been standing in her operator form only seconds earlier. It exploded on impact, forming a gyre of magnetic energy that sent Trillium sprawling and rapidly depleted her shields.

The Tenno reacted quickly, rolling with the blast and leaping to her feet. She scanned the horizon, picking out a dark figure standing on a nearby hill. They were uncanny in their familiarity; a black and red Frost frame speared with strange mechanism.

“Malice…” The wide open plains seemed to narrow around Trillium until she focused on this new threat.

The Stalker’s acolyte had materialized like a wraith, somehow avoiding Ordis’s sensors. The Tenno didn’t know what the acolytes were, only that they hunted the Tenno with ferocity unmatched by any other being in the origin system. There was no telling how long Malice had been watching her before firing, or how far her would go to kill her. She knew the next few moments would be crucial.

She could charge him, soak his opticor blasts with her superior shields, and retaliate tenfold.

At least, that’s what Hildryn believed. She was the shield maiden of the Tenno, powerful and confident in her strength. Trillium thought otherwise. She’d come equipped to shred armor and chew through hordes of Grineer, not go toe to toe with assassin. She needed multiple targets to leech from if she was going to replenish her shield quickly enough to offset the magnetic properties of an opticore. She appreciated her frame’s confidence, but she didn’t see a this particular duel ending well.

With that in mind, Trillium turned and ran.

Hildryn complained, as expected. Her frame wanted to stay and fight, not run away like a coward. Malice could do unimaginable damage to Ostron if he was allowed to run free.

But he’s here for me, Trillium countered. Malice would give up if she passed beyond the gates of Cetus and back into the protection of Unum. And Trillium was the one calling the shots now. She hadn’t always been in charge. She’d been little more than a floating will before, a source of purpose imposed on her frames as she activated them, but her mind was subsumed by their impulses; Hildryn’s fierce protective spirit, Loki’s penchant for subterfuge, Harrow’s sense of stoic duty, the list went on. It was as though she had been a dream shared by her frames. A uniting concept, rather than a person.

The Rite of Remembering had changed everything. She was the dreamer no more. She’d remembered who she was. A person with her own thoughts and opinions. She had a past. It was a traumatic past, but it was her past, and it empowered her to do more than animate her warframes. It let her take control.

Like fleeing a losing battle.

Hildryn ran as nimbly as any other warframe, despite her bulk, and the Tenno rocketed across the landscape. Calling in her archwing would mean holding still, which seemed risky. A Grineer couldn’t do much to her in the pause, but Malice had better reflexes and bigger guns. Instead, she ran up a hill and slid down the other side, leaping into the air as she hit the bottom. She twisted as she flew, checking on her pursuer. The Stalker’s acolyte was still on her heels, navigating the plains in the same way she was. Trillium turned, located the gates of Cetus gleaming in the setting sun, and ran.
The two figures leaped and twisted their way across the landscape. Malice took the occasional shot but Trillium managed to stay one step ahead of him. She suspected he was just trying to keep the pressure up, hoping she would make a mistake.

The line of explosions zagging its way across the plains was caught the attention of some Grineer scouts. A pair of dargyn fell in behind Trillium like green vultures. The scouts spun up their weapons and bullets pattered against the back of her shield like raindrops. She juked left, twisting around a tree trunk and flew off at an angle. The tree exploded into wood chips behind her, and the scouts had to circle back around. One noticed Malice behind her and fell back to investigate.

Trillium heard the opticore fire, and light bloomed behind her. Her shadow loomed long and dark for a moment, then one of the dargyns careened over her head, smoke and flames billowing from its engine. It slammed into a hill and exploded, filling the air with flames and smoke. The other scout broke off and its operator screamed obscenities at the two over an open channel before flying off.
Trillium couldn’t help but pity the dead Grineer. She’d shot down plenty of scouts, and would do so again in the future, but there was something perverse about dying at Malice’s hands. 

Silence fell as the two approached the gates of Cetus, broken only by the sound of the two splashing through puddles, and the occasional opticore shot. Trillium crisscrossed the landscape, though her approach straightened the closer she got to the gates. Unum had evidently sensed their approach, and the outer gate stood half open. Trillium leaped through the gap and slid to a stop in the courtyard between the outer and inner gate. She pivoted, pulled out her soma, and emptied a clip through the gate. The whir of unseen machinery filled the air as the gold and ivory doors began to slide shut.

Hot lead sprayed through the opening and a blue corona formed around Malice as his shield redirected hits. The acolyte shouldered his weapon and charged. Trillium continued her indiscriminate fire, considering this a parting shot before the gates sealed.

A grinding sound rose from the walls, and the gates began to shudder. Their progress became halting; closing a half-an-inch, pausing, then closing a little more. Trillium swapped out her clip and fired again, taking better aim this time. She didn’t know what was wrong with the gates, but she knew it was up to her to slow Malice’s approach. The acolyte threw up an arm and ran headlong into her fire, emboldened by the sound of protesting machinery. Malice jumped, mirroring the Tenno’s mad dash through the gate.

Trillium dropped her soma and channeled energy into her hands. Bits of her warframe detached and swirled around her wrists. Her balefire chargers seemed to form in slow motion, she could see the individual parts falling into place as Malice flew through the air. Trillium tried to bring her weapon up in time, firing an uncharged blast as she did so. The shot went wide, and Malice was upon her.

For the first time in living memory, the gates of Unum closed too slowly and a threat penetrated Cetus.

#

The midsummer sun cast long shadows over Cetus, bathing the settlement in golden light and deep shadows. Hok and Nikta sat across from each other at a small table in their shared home. The Ostron were a communal people, the main room was oriented around a central cooking apparatus, either a fire pit or some kind of scavenged tech. A few curtains had been hung at the sides of the room for privacy. Meals were traditionally eaten around the fire, but Hok had traveled extensively in his youth, and had come to appreciate eating at a table. The practice had grown on Nikta as well. She enjoyed being able to look out the window as she ate. 

Hok had prepared them a hearty dinner; meat stew filled with roots, grains and vegetables, with dark, thick-crusted bread. It was a nostalgic dish for Nikta. She cooked this stew many time when she was younger. Years of taking care of her infirm brother had given her plenty of time to perfect her housekeeping. She’d put those skills to good use when Hok first took her under his wing, but he’d required less and less as the years went on. In Hok’s opinion, Nikta’s studies in engineering, smithing and metallurgy were more important than having meals ready or the beds made.

“How’d the delivery go?” Hok ladled himself another helping for his ever expanding gut. Nikta suspected that his belly was growing faster now that she was handling more of the mundane forge work.

“Fine…” She used a piece of bread to scoop a healthy serving from her bowl, “The crew captain was hitting on me, so that was… a thing.” She bit off a piece the sopping bread. She chewed thoughtfully, wondering if she was actually tasting wood chips in the stew, or if it was a memory of her brother whittling nearby as she cooked playing with her senses.

Hok’s eyebrows shot up and he bared his teeth. “That cheeky fucker! Well, it won’t be hard to put an end to that.” He slammed his bowl on the table and started to stand.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t.” Nikta rushed to calm the man before he went and caved in the poor Solari’s helmet.

Hok hesitated and gave her an inquisitive look. 

“It’s surprisingly easy to go for the throat when you’re head’s in your stomach,” she explained. 

An evil grin grew on Hok’s face. “I really should know better by now. I’m just lucky you don’t turn that tongue on me.”

“Who do you think I got it from?” she asked.

Hok settled and returned to his stew, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. “And the turret, did you make any prog---” An ear splitting wail cut him off. The two smiths looked at each other, wide eyed, before diving to the floor.

Nikta had never heard this sound, but any Ostron would recognize it immediately. The call of Unum. The tower was an ever watchful guardian, and it had guaranteed the Ostron an early warning should its defenses ever be penetrated. No Ostron believed this to be necessary, and Cetus had never been attacked before, not successfully, at least. It was hard to say what had happened to set off the alarm, but whatever it was would be exceptionally dangerous.

Hok and Nikta scuttled across the floor to flank the doorway. Hok grabbed a short zaw from where it leaned against the door, and  craned her neck to survey the street outside. The world was completely still. There wasn’t even a breeze to stir the banners hanging from the roofs of the neighboring homes. A few curtains rustled and Nikta caught glimpses of other Ostron peeking out from their curtains, faces frozen in the same horror she felt. 

The siren began to subside, and Nikta heard gunshots and explosions somewhere deeper in the settlement. It sounded like one or two weapons being fired, not a full invading force, but these weren’t common Grineer rifles. It sounded like a pair of Tenno were in a fire fight with each other.

A third sound rose to match the siren and violence. Nikta had trouble determining its exact nature for a moment, then it clicked and became the only thing she could focus. The anguished cry of a child coming from the direction of the market. 

Her eyes widened and she looked across at Hok. He must have seen what she was thinking because he shook his head and mouthed one word at her. ‘No.’

Nikta looked back out the door. The firing started up again, nearly drowning out the cries of the child. Setting her mouth in a grim line of determinations, she dashed out the door, doing her best to remain low to the ground. Hok swore behind her, but made no move to stop her.

#

She found the child at the edge of the market, near the forge. He was no older than three, and was sitting on the ground screaming. A young woman with long dark hair was collapsed nearby. 

Nikta ran across the street, expecting to feel the impact of a bullet any moment, but nothing came. She crouched next to the boy and slipped an arm around him. She drew him close and he buried his face in her chest, tiny hand grasping at her shirt. His wailing quieted to sobs as she held him, and she did her best to whisper to him in voice far calmer than she felt. 

She continued to pet the back of his head with one hand and reached out to shake the motionless figure with the other. There was no response. She knew that would be the case, but she had to try. The woman had either been shot multiple times or once somewhere vital based on the amount of blood pooling around her. Nikta chose not to turn the woman over. Cetus wasn’t a large settlement, and the loss would be devastating, no matter who it was. She didn’t want to know who they had lost, not while there was someone else to protect.

Cetus had fallen silent. The alarm was still wailing, but its consistent tone had faded into the background, lost in a flood of adrenaline. More importantly, Nikta didn’t hear any more weapon fire. She breathed a sigh of relief and was beginning to relax her grip on the child when a beam of light shot out of a nearby alley. It connected with a building across the street and detonated, throwing shards of wood and stone in all directions. Nikta let out a string of words she only used while forging, scooped up the child, and ran. 

More shots rang out and explosions of dust ricocheted off the nearby houses. Nikta didn’t think she and the child were the intended targets, but she wasn’t going to stick around and find out. She dashed down the street, scanning the area as she went. 

None of the buildings were safe, that much was obvious. She didn’t want to lead the attackers to anyone if she was being followed, and the Ostron didn’t design their homes to withstand heavy weapons fire anyway. She needed somewhere thick and safe where she and the child could hide. Or, she realized, somewhere the child could hide so she could take care of herself.

“Hold on, I’ve got you.” Nikta whispered in the child’s ear as she weaved her way through the streets of Cetus, making her way to the smithy.

Pedlek had done his chores that evening, and the forge stood silent on the edge of the market. The tools hung on the wall of the nearby shack, and the trough had been filled with fresh water. More importantly, the furnace was dark.

Nikta spun the great wheel on the door of the furnace and pulled it open with a grunt. The structure was made of thick, insulated stone with a tall chimney. The inside of the furnace was relatively small, only a few feet in any direction. It wasn’t large enough for an adult, but it could hold a child. She stuck her hand inside and breathed a sigh of relief. It had cooled considerably since being quenched. The boy wouldn’t bake at least, and the walls were thick enough to stop most conventional bullets. Nikta maneuvered the child to the opening and gently coaxed him inside.

An explosion rocked the area, and a body came flying from the street. It slammed into the side of the shed. Wood splinters and dust covered the the imposing figure crumpled at the base of the wall. Nikta recognized it as the Hildryn from earlier that day. The Tenno did not look good. For a moment, she thought they had gone pallid, then she realized they were covered in light brown dust that obscured their normally vibrant colors. The Tenno slowly raised their head and turned it from side to side, seemingly dazed by the impact.

Nikta turned back to the furnace, and its wide eyed occupant. She put her finger to her lips, and the child copied her movement, though she was unsure if he really understood what it meant. She shut the furnace door, and started towards the fallen warframe. She had no idea what she was going to do when she reached it. Hopefully, whatever it needed would become obvious. 

The Hildryn tried to wave her away. Nikta gave a cursory glance around. She didn’t see anyone nearby, so she continued to approach. The warframe continued to wave her away in increasing desperation and Nikta. Another beam of light streaked in front of her, passing where her head would have been if she kept walking. The shot exploded next to the warframe, sending up a cloud of dust.
The explosion merely rocked the sturdy frame but it was enough to blow Nikta off her feet. She fell backwards and smacked her head on something hard.

Nikta writhed on the ground, grabbing at the back of her head. Her ears were ringing, her eyes were watering, and it seemed as though the entire world had gone sideways. She rubbed her eyes and stared over at the Tenno laying on the ground, partially obscured by a cloud of dust.

A dark figure strode through the cloud and bore done on the Tenno. It was a completely black warframe laced with bands of blood red energy. It seemed familiar, but Nikta couldn’t place what kind of frame it was. It holstered the blocky gun it was carrying and pulled out a small, glowing dagger as it advanced on the Hildryn. It moved deliberately, and with obvious malice, but it wasn’t attacking. It took Nikta a moment to realize that the two Tenno must be speaking to each other.

Nikta got her bearings as the black warframe knelt over the other. Nikta made a split second decision. It was instinctual, but she knew she had to act now. She struggled to her feet, using the anvil to steady her. She picked up one of the sledge hammers and began to approach the two warframes.

The black warframe either didn’t notice Nikta or didn’t care about her. It was focused on the job at hand. It knelt and dug a knee into the Hildryn’s stomach, pinning her in place. The black frame lifted the dagger above it’s head, ready to plunge into its victim’s chest. The black frame hesitated, and Nikta really hoped it was gloating as she raised her own weapon over her shoulder. The black frame leaned in for the kill just as Nikta swung her own weapon.

Normally, an Ostron would have no hope of even inconveniencing a warframe with a conventional weapon, even an Ostron who spent her days working in the forge. Luckily for Nikta, she’d grabbed the big sledge, the one they used on especially obstinate pieces of tech, ones with functioning shield generators. The hammer seemed weightless with the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she swung 25lbs of electromagnetic disrupting alloy with all her might. 

There was a strange feeling of resistance as the hammer met with the dark Tenno’s shields. The weapon vibrated and slowed and the air around it crackled with blue energy. Nikta could smell the ozone as the shields tried to stop, or at least lessen the coming impact. The Tenno’s defenses broke with a violent snapping sound. Sparks flew and the hammer accelerated once more.

Nikta had been aiming for the warframe’s temple, which seemed like the logical target. Her target had shifted by time she made contact, and her hammer slammed into the back of the warframe’s head. It pitched forward, dropping the dagger in the process. Nikta gave a shout of victory as momentum ripped the hammer from her hand and sent it sailing through the side of the shed.

The black warframe recovered quickly, and pushed itself up from the ground. It whirled and Nikta felt something slam into her chest, followed by a burst of pain. The tenno started getting farther away, though Nikta didn’t register that she was the one moving until she slammed into the side of the furnace. Stars filled her vision followed by darkness, and Nikta slipped into a dreamless sleep.