Chapter Text
Myfanwy walked in on Meghan while she was busy tinkering. She was kneeling on the smooth floor and surrounded by a mess of assorted color cards, of which the majority were some shade of purple. She had two in her hands and seemed to be alternating them in front of the small holographic projector.
As Myfanwy approached, Meghan turned around and greeted her brightly. “Good morning, Em!” She smiled. “I hope you slept well.” She then gestured to her Warframe, a Mag Prime unit whose colors altered under the projector to appear a sleek shade of violet. “I’m working on a new look, so tell me which one you prefer. I could do this one…” She changed the projection to a functionally identical shade of purple. “...or this.” The filter clicked again to a shade even more indiscernible than the last.
Myfanwy blinked in confusion. She had never been the most detail-oriented clone in the vat-batch, not by a long shot. Couple that with a disorienting early-morning and slightly impaired vision due to a Radial Blind in her early years, and she was left thoroughly bewildered. “Well… uh…”
She was relieved of the need to finish when Meghan sat up. “Shit!” she exclaimed. "I’m so sorry! You have to get back to Iron Wake, don’t you? I completely lost track of time!” She ran to the navigation console and began scrolling through the waypoints on the 3-dimensional screen.
Myfanwy glanced warily at the motionless metal puppet, as if expecting it to suddenly jump to life as soon as she turned her back. After determining the Warframe to be satisfactorily stationary, she followed Meghan above into the cockpit. Nervously, Myfanwy tried to get the other woman to look up from her work. “Um… I’m okay, actually. What I mean is, I wouldn’t mind staying. If that’s…?” She let the question trail off.
Meghan spun around in her chair to face her. “Normally? Yeah, I would let you hang out here. But I have to help the Entrati with an Infested outbreak, and they’re not gonna be happy if I’m late again.”
As soon as she heard this, Myfanwy perked up. “I could help you!” she blurted out. “I fought sikkhat hordes while I was stationed on Mercury!” She bit her lip and immediately cringed at herself. Where did this… eagerness come from? This wasn’t like her at all.
Apologetically, Meghan shook her head. “I’m sorry, Em. Kermerros discovered a new variant of the Grey Strain on Deimos, and it’s supposed to be even more contagious, especially for Grineer. It just wouldn’t be safe for you. Any other mission, I promise I’d let you join. But you know how…”
The engineer’s audible exasperation interrupted whatever point Meghan was trying to make. “I know, I know,” Myfanwy sighed. She didn’t mean to be abrasive, but the last thing she needed in this moment was another lecture about her own health. She shook her head. Regardless of her own feelings, now was not the time for verbal sparring. She regained her composure almost as soon as she lost it and continued. “Fine. But I’m off-duty today, so… feel free to stop by Iron Wake when you’re done. Maybe we could grab drinks in Fortuna?”
Meghan paused, as if surprised by this offer. “Uh… sure. I’ll remember that. Actually—Ordis!” She shouted down from the navigation seat into the depths of the Orbiter, far louder than she strictly needed to. Myfanwy heard the familiar response from her friend’s prickly Cephalon.
“Yes, Operator?” was the answering hum out of the ship’s interior.
“Remind me to stop by Iron Wake and pick up Em when we’re done on Deimos,” Meghan instructed. As she gave this order, Myfanwy swore she could hear the Cephalon’s sound change from relatively impartial to almost… reluctant.
“Operator, I-” Ordis’ voice garbled for a brief second before returning to normal. “Of course, Operator.” The transmission ended abruptly, and Meghan turned around to face her again. She clapped her hands together, a sound that made Myfanwy flinch. “Okay!” she declared. “I’ve set a course for Iron Wake. You’ll be there when I come back?”
Again Myfanwy nodded, still reeling from sensory overload. “Uh, yeah… I mean…” She coughed to clear her throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Meghan smiled once more. “Great,” she said. “I’m looking forward to it.” She turned in her chair and refocused on her flight path.
Myfanwy almost smiled back, but she managed to stop herself just in time.
There was a lengthy lull in conversation as the two of them looked out into the vast space on the other side of the glass. Meghan periodically would steal glances in the other woman’s direction, but even now Myfawny’s face was impossible to read. Not necessarily on account of her being Grineer—she was just so… collected. Maybe “closed off” was a better way to describe it. Meghan could tell there was something the engineer wanted to say, but she also knew better than to press her. She simply leaned back in her chair, listening to the hum of the ship’s engines. And sure enough, after some time between a moment and an eternity, the small blue sphere of Earth came into view.
Myfanwy hastily gathered her things and prepared to disembark. She was just in time, too. If she had been just a few seconds slower she would have been knocked to the ground by the sudden turbulence as they reentered the atmosphere. Myfanwy looked out the window with wide eyes. Even with her limited knowledge of Liset specifications, she could recognize that Meghan was flying much faster than any reasonable piloting manual would have recommended. Meghan, on the other hand, was so unfazed that the only explanation was that she either didn't notice or didn't care. Clouds raced by the windows, while inside the ship Myfanwy was holding on for dear life. She ducked her head, narrowly managing to deflect a small, silver noggle as it dislodged from Meghan's desk. The statue bounced head-first off her helmet and crashed against the wall behind her, still perfectly intact.
A small, surreal corner of her mind wondered how they managed to make those toys so perfectly indestructible.
Meanwhile, Meghan was finally slowing down as they approached Iron Wake. She circled a few times, skimming the cliffs and tree tops before landing on a hill near the perimeter. Myfanwy stumbled outside as soon as they touched down, leaning against the door as she struggled to hold her breakfast. The humid air and clouds of insects and pollen did little to ease her nausea. Meghan stepped off the ramp a few seconds later, wearing an exhilarated smile that quickly turned to concern as soon as she noticed Myfanwy's condition.
“Em!” She rushed to the engineer’s side. “Are you okay!?”
“I’m fine!” Myfanwy responded. She slumped to the ground with a groan. “I just… I need to lie down.”
Meghan stopped to consider this. Then, with a snap of her fingers she transferred into her Warframe. Like always, it felt comfortable—like a second skin. Her freshly-polished gold accents glared blindingly in the early morning sunlight. She turned to Myfanwy, who flinched imperceptibly as she noticed the ‘Frame’s expressionless chrome visage.
Meghan pretended not to notice. She offered a hand to the seated woman and waited patiently for her to take it.
In a matter of seconds, this seemingly innocuous gesture was enough to have Myfanwy backed against the wall like a cornered animal. Grasping metal fingers reached for her; their points were needle-sharp like the gnashing fangs of a Kubrodon’s maw. She tried to look past that, to see her friend behind the shell, but her body was rapidly entering fight-or-flight. She tried to stand and almost collapsed as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Meghan caught her before she hit the ground, her metal arms easily supporting Myfanwy’s surprisingly dense body. She glanced down the hill where a group of medics and technicians were approaching up the stone path. “Hang in there,” she whispered. Myfanwy simply closed her eyes and nodded, too exhausted to struggle. At this point, the best she could do was focus on her friend’s voice and pretend she wasn’t trapped in the inescapable vise-grip of a metal monstrosity.
Meghan greeted the medics as they crested the slope to reach the landing zone. They responded in kind, though their attention was focused on Myfanwy. “Is she sick? Injured?” one of them asked.
Meghan shook her head, a gesture easily mimicked by her Warframe. “Just tired, I think. And a little motion sick.” She let the technicians place her friend on the stretcher.
The other medic studied the Grineer woman’s face. “She looks dehydrated,” he observed. “Has she been drinking water?”
Meghan opened her mouth to answer, then stopped herself. It occurred to her that Solaris energy drinks most likely would not be counted as proper hydration. “I’m… not sure. I don’t think so.”
The medic rolled his eyes. “We’ll take care of her.” He turned and followed the team and stretcher down the hill.
Meghan watched them go and sighed. She climbed the ramp back into her orbiter, where she barely had time to settle in her chair before being greeted (or rather, assailed) by Ordis’ transmission.
“Operator, I must say that I am—TERRIFIED!—struggling to parse what your goal is with that Grineer. So far, your efforts to become acquainted with it are projected to yield little to no practical advantage in the long term. In fact, there is a high likelihood that this irrational behavior will—RUIN EVERYTHING!—actively hinder your combat efficacy. Are you sure you wish to continue seeing her?”
Meghan couldn’t help but bristle at the Cephalon’s detached analysis. She took a deep breath before replying. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said in a perfectly even tone. “You have to trust me on this.”
She could tell the Cephalon was displeased by her response, but his acknowledgement was just as cordial. “Very well, Operator. And please remember that if anything happens, I will not hesitate to—EXTERMINATE!—protect you if necessary.”
Meghan nodded curtly. “Thank you, Ordis. Now set a course for Deimos. And make sure Gomaitru saves a bounty for us. I’m afraid that we might be a teensy bit late again.”