While this is primarily a Star Wars forum, I have no Star Wars fanfic to share at the moment, but I wanted to share a little something anyway. Maybe someone else here plays Warframe and will appreciate the content of this. Even if you don't, I'd appreciate some feedback anyway on the style and such. Once the Star Wars fanfic I'm in the middle of is done, I'll post that too.
“Wake up, Tenno.”
“SSSSZZZZHHHH!” A flock of birds fled, screaming, as the hydraulic hiss of escaping gasses broke the stillness of the terrestrial dawn, the moss-encrusted edges of the pod lid separating with a grating creak. For several moments, nothing stirred the air but the softly wafting breeze tugging gently at a swirl of mist drifting slowly from the open-mouthed pod.
And then came a gasp of air, like the first breath of a new-born child, a child of flesh and alloy, breaking free from a cold and heartless womb of icy slumber, birthed into a new and unfamiliar world.
The figure sat up, chest thrust forward in exertion as long-dormant lungs sucked in great breaths of muggy swamp air, clawed hands clutching wildly at the edges of its stasis pod. After satisfying its burning chest's need for fresh oxygen, the figure rose shakily to its feet, donning the gleaming helmet placed beside it in the pod.
Standing erect, at attention, the awakened figure waited for orders. One, two, five minutes passed, and... Nothing. Slowly the figure relaxed, shaking the last remnants of saline and nitrous from its system, considering the situation. “I am... Tenno,” he said at last. The name threw a whirlwind of memories through Tenno's still-waking brain, memories of a hundred wars, a thousand spent lives, the cold embrace of the Void and the even colder intellect of those who lay beyond... And the Orokin, the great masters of art and science, those who had enslaved the once-mighty Tenno race, harnessing the awesome power gifted by the Void into frames of armor, and sending the Tenno to war... A war they could not win.
But what then? Try as he might, the warrior could not remember. He looked down at his hands, flexing them, and watching as thousands of infinitesimal subcircuts and nanoscopic plates shifted over his muscles and tendons, rippling like a second skin. The Orokin's hold on his mind was gone. Yet, their presence still remained, a testament to their once-mighty knowledge. He looked back up at the pod. They had disposed of him. Why? And why here? And why, now, had he awoken?
“Tenno.” The warrior stood to attention, listening intently to the voice filtering in through his helmet. A familiar voice, yet somehow strange, an echo of his past. “You will have questions. What you were is unimportant. What you will be is to be seen. What you are now is a possibility. There are others, Tenno, and you will join them, if you have the will to survive.”
“Who are you?” Tenno asked, his voice husky and mouth dry.
“I am Lotus.” Before Tenno could speak, Lotus' voice chattered again in his helm. “Hurry, Tenno, there are Infested coming. A ship was sent to retrieve you, but it was too slow. The only option was premature awakening. Whether or not you survive this encounter is up to you.”
The Lotus' voice cut out, and Tenno merely stood, pondering these words. Infested? Lotus? Nothing made any sense. But then, on the battlefield, sometimes that was the case.
CRUNCH! SNAP! Tenno whirled, sinking into a ready stance, taloned hands spread wide, his mind reacting swiftly to the noise in the underbrush. Looking around, he noted his pod was located inside some kind of mechanical ruin, a broken-down outpost which might prove useful in defending his position. As the first of his enemies bounded into view, Tenno dropped into a crouch, instinctively reaching for the hikou at his hips, hurling a barrage of glimmering steel at the creature even as it sprang at his throat.
The throwing stars, guided by microscopic biocomputational adjustments before they even left Tenno's lithe fingers, severed the Infested's arm and throat, causing it to gurgle and stumble and fall face-first to the ground. Tenno sprung forward in a diving roll, checking his enemy for a pulse. To his disgust, Tenno's onboard computer identified the creature as infected with a virus of Orokin origin. “Just like them,” he muttered to himself before rising. He reached behind and patted the rifle hanging from his shoulder, previously unnoticed, but which had jarred him as he rolled. Instinctively he jerked open the magazine and shoved in a handful of alloy bolts, the contents of a pouch on his waist, snapping the rifle shut with a decisive CLANG.
He finished just in time, for enemies soon began flopping and stumbling in through multiple entrances, forcing Tenno to fire wildly while retreating in order to avoid being cornered. Bolt after bolt sailed through the air, burying itself deep in the putrid flesh of Tenno's enemies, until finally the rifle's chamber clicked on empty and a notification informed him of his need to find a new clip.
Tenno slung the rifle over his shoulder and reached down for the last of his hikou, but an unseen arm punched forward from the shadows, striking Tenno in the side, snapping a rib and slamming him down against the curve of the cryopod. Tenno groaned and held his wound even as Orokin nanoforms began healing the damage, soothing the pain and restoring osteocytes at an incredible rate. His heart sank as a huge, lumbering alien being with glowing red eyes stomped into the clearing, flanked on either side by several chattering minions. Tenno frantically threw his arm over the side of the pod, rummaging around for anything which might be of some use. The giant alien lifted its arm again, preparing for a killing blow...
SSHHHHINK! Tenno paused dramatically for just a moment, body crouched low to the ground, mighty Galatine blade held, fully extended, in one hand, his other palm outstretched in completion of a perfect three-point stance. Green alien blood slid quietly off the edge of the blade, as the alien itself screamed a keening wail into the sky, armless, its minions cowering at its side.
Tenno stood, swirling what he now remembered to be his personal weapon through the air before resting it on an armored shoulder. “Right then,” he muttered, half to himself. “Who's next?” Legs which only minutes before had lain frozen in a miasma of icy gas suddenly clenched and expanded, stimulated by a million bioelectrical probes, launching Tenno forward at an incredible speed to slice and slash the Infested apart with a blade harder than diamond and stronger than steel, a killing machine of incredible power and chilling alacrity.
But soon Tenno realized the odds were against him. Many more of the hulking brutes assailed him, each as mighty as the last, each leading another wave of smaller—but no less deadly—enemies. Finally Tenno placed the Galatine on his back alongside the rifle, his artificially-strengthened back not the least bowed under the weight, and crouched low, arms crossed in front of him. “Tenno Precept: Ash Four. Blade Storm.” Glistening knives of Orokin alloy, previously sheathed in Tenno's own bones, snapped forward on biomechanical drivers and dripped a single drop of dark blood which spattered to the ground to either side, each filled with a unique Orokin virus designed to feed on Tenno's DNA, replicating at an unfathomable speed into identical clones of the glowering warrior, each with the same thought in its mind: Kill everything.
With the synchronization born of a linked mind, the three aspects of Tenno leaped forward, the precept unlocking special drivers unique to the Ash-Type Warrior Framework, or Warframe, causing the trio's muscles and precision to temporarily skyrocket, allowing them to perform vicious acrobatic feats any other warrior could only imagine. Necks snapped, spines ruptured, sparks and blood flew through the air, and Tenno remained unscathed.
After only a few short seconds, Tenno dropped to the ground, blades retracting into his arms once more, breathing heavily. His clones did the same before crumbling—aptly—to ashes, completely burnt out after even a brief stint as the conduits of a biotechnological miracle of engineering. Tenno checked the readout in his helmet, noting the critically-low energy levels. He wouldn't be able to pull off another precept any time soon, even a basic one. Thankfully, it didn't seem as if he'd need to. All around, the Infested lay dead or bleeding out on the metallic floor of the clearing.
Suddenly, the WHOOSH! of engines filled the morning air, and Tenno shaded his eyes as a ship hovered close overhead, dropping four figures to the ground. One, apparently the leader, stepped forward. “Looks like he did just fine,” she said, her husky voice barking through Tenno's helmet. “Hey, good job, new guy. Don't worry, we'll answer any questions you have on the way back to base.” She strode forward and clapped the blood-splattered hero on the shoulder. “Good morning, brother.”
She turned, gesturing for him to follow, and all five Tenno boarded the ship, leaving behind nothing but a slaughter, a still-steaming but now-empty cryopod, and a flock of birds, settling down to feast on the carnage left behind. And then, nothing, but the stillness and solitude of the empty, terrestrial dawn.
Wallpaper I made from a screenshot the short story was based on:
