As if knowing her nerves were on edge, Maroo's Swallow played her a calming song of beeps and hums.
Xarra and Mor, who was being distracted by a pile of junk Maroo had lying around, left her alone in the cockpit. Her legs rested on the dash, arms folded behind her head. Small brown asteroids danced amidst each other, like Razorflies bogged by tar. She'd triple checked the coordinates—knowing it made perfect sense to be here of all places—but anxious none the less. Maroo managed to hide her ship in a deep crater of a larger asteroid, though it meant she wouldn't get a visual when the Queens arrived. She eyed her radar. Eyed it again. And again.
Her jaw hadn't unclenched since their miracle at Vey Hek's compound. No matter how forcefully she tried to think of other things, it always came back to figuring out how they could have stolen the Orokin Blood. It was right there… she thought for the fiftieth time.
Maroo had come up with at least ten possibilities.
We could've gone loud, we could have just waited until Hek left and carried the Blood to the elevator, we could have— Dammit, stop!
Her thoughts sidestepped her efforts. There were no explosives on them. Mor could have found any trackers on the ship and disabled it. Even if there was a tracker—and even if it was too complex for Mor to crack, we could have moved the Blood to a different container and left the original behind.
Maroo slammed her fist into a metal panel, earning an extra loud beep as reprimand from her ship.
She had been scared. That was all there was to it. With a sigh that left a bitter taste in her mouth, she stood to walk around. They were early anyway.
The Swallow had been her companion for as long as she'd been in the business: it'd been so full that it had trouble flying, been so empty she could hear a shell drop on the other side, and everything in between.
Her footsteps echoed for far longer than she'd liked, hammering a reminder into her skull.
You almost have nothing. That Ten Thousand Platinum could save you… but you better not mess up.
Xarra stood in one empty room, looking out a tiny window, arms crossed.
"Do you seriously have to look angsty when no one's around?" Maroo asked, stepping inside.
The Tenno didn't budge. "I'm thinking."
"Oh? about what?"
"Last mission."
"Look, if you learned your lesson, then stop—"
"I'm sorry."
"Tin suit, how many times do I have to tell you, I don't need your apology."
"Would you shut it and listen." Xarra shook his head. "I nearly failed, twice. I was sick of living in this nasty, vile place. I hated stealing, killing, for every little thing. I wanted to go back, Maroo. Do something good for once."
"That's why you joined me." Maroo said. "It wasn't the money. It was the Grineer."
"I hated both of you, you know. You and Mor."
"I was painfully aware."
"People like you are the problem. The Tenno would have this system at peace if it weren't for the chaos. If it weren't for you all who thrive in it. Propagating it."
"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm doing this to survive."
"I know. That's the part I hate the most."
The Tenno turned, facing Maroo.
"I had painted you two as evil things, things I should never associate with. I wanted nothing to do with you." He stopped. "But you two, like everything else in this cursed system, just want to live. I was too harsh, and that almost cost us everything."
Maroo shook her head, laughing to herself. "Congratulations tin suit, you're human. I mean, you're whatever you are, but you still make mistakes. We all do. Void, if I didn't make mistakes, I wouldn't be in this position in the first place."
She walked to the window, partly to have something to look at, but partly to check if there were any Grineer ships in sight. Xarra joined her.
"I still would like to hand part of it over to the Lotus." He said.
"As long as I get my share, I don't care what you do."
"…Thank you."
They stood in silence, admiring the beauty of space. Only the dull hum of the ship stimulated Maroo's ears, making the sluggish rolls of the rocks outside feel even more numb.
Yet, anxiety for the mission tangled her insides. Stealing from the Queens was something only thought of in hyperboles.
"You know…" Maroo said. "You don't have to be under the Lotus to do the right things."
"Hm?"
"Lots of people are fighting. Fighting against the Grineer, the Corpus, the Infested. They're trying to do their part. Trying to protect their place in this Void-forsaken universe. They could use someone like you."
"They know to get word to the Relay—"
"Even the Lotus can't reach everywhere."
Xarra gazed through the window, thoughts deep inside, churning.
"You're not a bad thing, Xarra. Certainly not cut out for this line of work, if you ask me. You're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."
"… Thank you, Maroo. I mean it."
She chuckled, "Yeah, well, that's the only time you'll ever hear me talk like that. So remember it well, and tell nobody. I have an image to maintain."
"Fine, fine." He said. Maroo could practically hear his smile under the mask. "I suppose I know how to… how do those Fortuna people say it? 'Muck up' an Obelisk or two?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
Xarra cocked his head, raising a finger.
"What—" Maroo started.
"Shh."
Maroo had no idea what the Tenno was up to, until she heard what he had. It was quiet, only reaching them in muddled reverberations.
Muffled sniffs. Ones coming through an augmented speech generator.
"Can Cephalons even cry?" Maroo whispered.
The Tenno seemed to roll his eyes, "Apparently. Come on."
"What? Let's leave her alone! It's not our problem!"
Xarra ignored her, walking to the hall. Void, she thought. One little pep-talk and he already thinks he's a hero. Begrudgingly, Maroo followed.
They had found Mor where they left her: in the now-messy waste densifier room. Parts of junk weapons were scattered like confetti, mixed with random shards of metal. The Cephalon faced the corner, not aware of her guests, arms slack and holding another scrap part.
Xarra knocked on the doorframe. Mor tensed.
"What do you want?" She hissed.
"To know why a Cephalon is crying by herself."
"I'm not a Cephalon! I'm me! I'm me!" She threw the piece at the wall, shattering with a crash.
"Calm down," Xarra said. "I just want to—"
"Oh, shut it you half-Tenno! You're just as broken as I am! And you too Maroo!" Mor turned. "I don't want to hear anything!"
"That's very true," Xarra sighed. "But I'd still like to hear what's bothering you."
"Why? Boredom made you curious again?"
"If that's what you want to believe."
Mor fell silent, grabbing a large chunk and fiddling with it. Her voice dropped low, "I hate this… is it really so hard to be happy?"
"You can be—"
"It's either be happy or be useful, and only one of those can pay for my maintenance!" She snapped. "Not many options for when people want Cephalon work! I'm the only one unaffiliated! But demolition experts? Weaponsmiths? A credit a dozen for those! Not to mention ones who can mentally function!
"Who wants weapons from an insane Cephalon! Who wants to trust that? I'm sorry my mind was stolen from me! I just want to do the things that excite me, but apparently that's wrong!"
Mor's head was so deep in color that it was opaque, casting everything around her in its glow.
"I…" Xarra fumbled. "I'm sure you'll find your place…"
"Easy for someone with a suit of God-armor to say." Mor muttered. "I know you're both here to make sure I can still function for our ambush… I'll be fine. I promise. I'll get to be loud, after all. Finally."
"You know," Maroo said. "I did bring you on for your explosive and weapon talents."
"Sure seems like it." Mor scoffed. "Out. Both of you." She picked at a big chunk of wires and components.
Maroo exited, letting the door hiss shut. She made her way to the cockpit, feeling the Tenno step behind her.
"Didn't know she could sound that… human," he said.
"Kind of surprised she hasa sane side to her." Maroo said, sitting in the pilot's seat. Nothing on the radar yet.
"You seem so casual about it."
"And you seem concerned. Which seems just as strange to me."
"I feel we should do something about it."
"Void, one compliment and you're Lotus's loyal Dax again?"
"She's been with us through this. At the very least, we can try."
"You can try. As long as she does her part and I get my plat, I don't care what state she's in.
"I don't believe that. I can see through that 'image' of yours."
"I believe you don't have eyes, tin suit."
The Grineer showed on the dot.
Two blips on the screen beeped, sending Maroo into hyper-alertness. After confirming it was the Grineer, she sprinted down the hall to rally the others.
"It's time!" She yelled. "Get yourselves ready!"
"Aye!" Xarra called.
"Shut up!" Mor screamed. "I'm almost done!"
"You're done now!" Maroo called. "Get moving!"
She skidded into the pilot's seat, moving the ship silently out of landing position and crept into the Asteroid field carefully. The ships were below, a large transporter and several Outriders, landing on an asteroid near the size of a small moon.
"What's the status?" Xarra said, putting a hand on the seat.
"I have visual. Working to make sure they don't see us enter."
The Swallow could fool the Queens' sensors into thinking it was a Galleon. But it was the traditional rules of thieving that were important: if someone saw her, they'd be caught. Maroo glided around asteroids as if it were a minefield, precisely flying through openings, stopping when the spinning rocks were too chaotic to pass. With each push, the engines whined, whistling in bursts.
"We're going to drop in, and the ship will land nearby," Maroo said. "I'll signal it when we're ready to go. Did you find the grav-pallets?"
"Yes." Xarra said.
"Good." Maroo attempted a sigh, but her body was too tense. Relax, she told herself. Breathe. Everything is on schedule. The hard part is over.
As if to prove her point, the timing was perfect, allowing her to smoothly hover over the landed group. There were no windows facing upward on the vessels. A deeper scan found the back compartments were empty. The next compartment over held the Orokin Blood.
"Right," Maroo said. "Let's get this damn thing."
She air-sealed her suit as she walked down the hall, Xarra and eventually Mor in tow. A smile danced on her lips; she could almost taste the Platinum. Grab it and go. That's all this was, and she'd become one of the richest people in the system.
"Get ready to drop." She said, voice muffled by her suit. The three stood over the release plate. Maroo slapped the button, sucking her and the others into open space. The momentum proved enough, sending her gently toward a hatch. With a bit of coordination, they squeezed into their target, and in moments were in the transporter.
"Alright," Maroo's suit went to normal. "Be ready to move. We're taking one."
Mor nodded. Xarra tossed the grav-pallet in the air, catching it again. She sidled toward the compartment gate, pistol at the ready. The electronic lock came undone with a few mechanical clicks, opening to a view very familiar.
Tanks stacked atop each other, filled with vibrant reds. The size would be easy enough to get back to the ship, even with the grav-pallet holding it.
"Mor, get us ready to go. Xarra, grab one—"
Belting laughter erupted, bouncing all around the metal confines.
"Ah, I see." Vey Hek's voice emanated from everywhere. "Maroo. I should have known!"
The doors locked. Maroo frantically searched for the source of his voice, a black hole forming in her stomach.
How! How did he expect us! She winced. We were fools to think he wouldn't find something… Dammit!
The opposite door unlocked, simultaneously releasing dozens of soldiers adorned in red and black and sucking their prize away. Vey Hek followed, narrowly squeezing through the opening, howling with laughter.
Mor looked to Maroo. So did Xarra. They expected some plan, some backup plan, some backup-backup plan. But for the second time this job, she had nothing.
Nothing except an overwhelming sense of defeat.
"Well, the whole system will be pleased to see you gone!" Hek continued. "You brought us a Cephalon to repurpose… and a Warframe! My, my, you are quite generous!"
"I—"
Every gun in the room snapped to her head.
"No, I don't want to hear your cocky quips." Hek said. "Your screams are preferred. Actually," a sensor raised like a finger, "I would like to hear one thing. Who tipped you to this information? If you tell me, I'd be much more inclined to spare you."
"Oh?" Maroo said. "Well, you see, I fall in the majority when it comes to jogging memory. When thirty guns are pointed at my head, it's hard to think."
Despite the act, Maroo's mind scrambled. Only two exits. One behind me is locked. Mor could possibly self-destruct, but that could harm me too. Xarra… does Xarra have energy? Could he…
Nothing. She needed more time. She needed to hold Vey Hek's attention a little longer. There has to be a way out.
Hek scoffed, waving his hand dismissively and leaving. "Seize them."