"We need assistance, damn you! The Solaris; they're on our doorstep!"
"The Corpus Navy acknowledges your request, Director Mehrino. A vessel has been dispatched, and will be with you within the next four to six hours, Standard Corporate Time."
"Six hours? The vermin will have overrun us by then!"
"If you have complaint you would like to register about our service line, please hold, and we will connect with a customer service Cephalon—"
- excerpt from terminated Corpus transmission, Prospect 141
Hosk toured the line with Mirage, as the Solaris gawked at their two unlikely champions: the terrorist and the Tenno. They ducked through holes blown in walls; rubble crunching beneath their feet; passing knots of resistance fighters huddled together; bathed in dust and sweat. Sara knew she was being paraded; did her best not to intimidate the Solaris as they hesitantly smiled at her: offering a nod here, a small wave there.
Her Frame aside, all eyes were on the barge fight above. The compulsive gamblers amongst the Solaris (ever resourceful when it came to entertainment) placed private bets on the outcome. Many of the other rebels simply sat in silence; watching the sheets of fire exchange between the distant airships with faces lined by exhaustion.
It was these quiet people Hosk gave the most attention to. He stopped with each of them; making sure they remembered to hydrate, or breaking the tension with a private joke or proffered smoke. A different strategy for every soul. Some he could not reach, too traumatised from the brutality of the fighting. Hosk left these broken few with a gentle pat on the hand, leaving a bottle of water or a ration pack behind as quietly took his leave. The medics would follow in due course.
Mirage watched Hosk in careful silence; mirroring the Tenno's own fascination. Such compassion was alien to Sara. The Old War had been fought differently.
A tremendous ear-splitting boom rent the skies above.
Everybody threw themselves flat, thinking it an incoming artillery strike. Mechanised workers across the line stumbled and fell; cybernetics stuttering. Cries for medics filled the air.
Only Mirage stayed on her feet. She looked up to the sky.
Hosk gaped up at her from his particular spot on the floor.
"What was that?"
Mirage's eyes never left the sky. Sara whistled.
"Graviton Cannon by the sounds of it. Risky, this close to the colony."
"Somebody means business?" Hosk clambered to his feet, dusting himself off.
"That, or they're getting desperate."
Kef Mehrino was in a furious debate with the Corpus Navy when the Graviton strike happened; killing the signal and causing every piece of glassware in the boardroom to rattle despite the reinforced plating around them. He swore, hurling the glass in his hand against the wall with an enraged snarl. Bottles of sparkling wine still covered the boardroom table from his premature celebration earlier. He snatched up an open bottle; swaying slightly as he mumbled to himself. The deal was falling apart before his very eyes.
Kren Maruk ignored him; instead standing by the observation window, marvelling at the barge brawl unfolding. He was a military man; had served his time across the furthest reaches of the Rail, prosecuting the enemies of the Board whenever and wherever it was asked of him. This posting was to be his retirement; a way to live out the twilight years of his contract in relative peace.
Kren Maruk chuckled at that. He didn't care. It was better this way. Boardroom politics did not interest him. He was a devout man, with the broad frame of a service crewman; his leathery skin heavily stencilled in the faith markings of the Prophet. Maruk would marshal the City Watch in the defence to the best of his ability because that was what was expected of him.
He was not a gifted strategist, but knew war; understood it. Had lived it his entire life.
Something about the airships furious battle stirred something in him. Old memories of Grineer invasions long past, where the gene-kin's barges had smashed into their own trade flotillas, high above the ice floes of Europa. Of ship to ship fighting; and the brutal hand to hand that could only follow. He did not envy them.
Kren Maruk watched the grav-tethers snake out between the barges; saw shapes falling from the barges that he knew to be doomed men, but barely registered as little more than specks at this range. A bloody business. He shook himself. There was a job to do.
He tried his com-line once more, ordering a status report on the interception team he requested some time ago.
Yet again, the Eastern Landing Pad failed to answer.
He tried again.
"What is it?" Terrenus Vern asked.
The bounty hunters stood apart from Isolde, who studied the golden nikana in her hands; her slender frame backlit by the crackling flames.
"A message. From an evil long buried."
Isolde looked up at Vern, expression grave.
"We can't leave this place."
A new voice answered her.
"Very astute."
Eythan stepped from the shadows, his long robes thrown back; golden armour rendered a burning burgundy-crimson by surrounding blaze. The fury in Isolde's eyes burned hotter than any fire.
"Eythan Dax. You did this."
The Dax stepped forward, slowly advancing. He offered the slightest shrug; armour clicking with the gesture. His voice carried with it an augmented burr.
"No witnesses, no distractions. No escape." Eythan Dax continued advancing, footsteps loud in the desolate chamber. "Your presence is required, Tenno. You have been summoned."
Isolde's chin tilted upward in defiance.
"By whom? Your masters are dead. I buried them myself."
"They are the House Eternal. They will not be denied."
Eythan Dax held up a gauntleted hand; palm facing them. There was a magnetic hum, and the blade leapt from Isolde's hands; hurtling across the chamber.
The blade snapped neatly back into Eythan Dax's waiting hand. It sank back into its sheath faster than Vern could track.
The bounty hunters snapped weapons to bear. They were renegade Exchange operatives; killers all. No lofty words or solemn warning preceded the sudden barrage of gunfire.
Eythan Dax had already vanished; enveloped by a blinding flash of light and smoke.
By the time it cleared, little more than yawning darkness remained.
A voice drifted from the rafters above: everywhere at once; and yet nowhere.
"Final warning, Tenno: The Northern Dock. My Lord awaits."
Then silence left the hunters rattled in the dark; alone but for the crackle of flames and the smell of death.
As the airships ground together, a pealing squeal of metal splitting the air and echoing across the entire colony, the City Watch reinforced its position, glad of the lull in the Solaris assault.
The manufactories had not been idle. A phalanx of Moa assembled before the ziggurat; ten drones deep. Above them, a buzzing storm cloud of shield ospreys; small flitting drones that prowled the line, bolstering the frontline. Corpus infantry filed out from the base of the fortress, assembling behind the proxy wall; standing at rigid attention.
It was an intimidating show of force. They stood brazenly in the open, as if daring the Solaris to come and meet their fate.
Solaris spotters called the development in.
Hosk lowered his binoculars, hissing air through clenched teeth. This is what he had been afraid of.
Mirage sat beneath him, her back to the wall by the blown out window Hosk perched beside. Sara was nonchalantly disassembling his Burston rifle for the third time; cleaning it with surgical precision. Anything to keep herself occupied.
Hosk looked at her, shook his head.
"You don't seem worried."
Mirage was firmly focused on the rifle in her hands.
"What's there to be worried about?"
"We're outnumbered, for one."
Mirage shrugged.
"I'm a Tenno. We're always outnumbered. What else?"
She popped out the magazine, inspecting the receiver for grit. Grunted. Hosk tried again.
"Every second we delay, their army gets bigger."
"You can't push now. Not yet." Sara slapped the magazine back home; nodding in satisfaction. "You'll just have to wait."
She handed the rifle back to Hosk, then rose to her feet. She joined him by the window.
The Corpus army stretched out before them; rippling under the heat of so many shield systems in close proximity. If the sight bothered Sara, it never registered in her voice, as she mused:
"I've never found it easy. The waiting. Was never very good at it. 'A true warrior knows patience, or knows nothing'; that's what Sohren used to say. I never listened."
Mirage stared up at the battle that raged in the sky. The fires glinted off the skin of Warframe, as Sara shook her head; voice thoughtful now.
"Perhaps it's time that changed."