"The Board's position remains clear. Pending instructions, the Dominant Position is to hold an observation pattern and standby for further instructions.
No further action is required at this time."
- instructions relayed to Captain Theo Plun, after his thirteenth request for new orders
Kef Mehrino sweated as he bundled himself down yet another smelly pipe. He had no idea where he was, where he was going. He had scurried in the dark for what felt like hours, scrambling from one access hatch to the next. His hands shivered through his velvet gloves, swollen from the effort. His fine clothes were soaked with sweat, flecked with rust and oil and sewage; filthy from the arduous ascent.
Up, all he knew was that he had to keep going up.
The higher he went, the sooner he could regain contact with the Board. Maybe even salvage his position. A victim of the rebellion, who made a daring escape. Some kind of survivor narrative. They might even reward him.
The thought spurred him ever onward.
He rounded the next corner.
A Watch-Control fire team filled the corridor. They were a Low Tier unit: seasoned, isolated; fighting a determined guerrilla war against the uprising ever since the Data Stacks came down. Their drone support was gone. They were bloodied and hardened, their armour visibly dented. But the iconography on their suits was clear. They were Corpus soldiers, and true.
"Oh, thank the Void you're here." Kef Mehrino sighed in relief, lowering his hands.
A rifle butt slammed him into darkness.
"What do we do with him?" One crewman asked, his speech rendered a warble through his helmet filter.
"Sell him?" The crewman shrugged. "Maybe they'll give us a reward."
"Fine. But I get his boots."
Neera splashed heavily as she dropped into the coolant.
The environment suit the Solaris had rigged her with was a poor fit. She was swimming in its rubbery folds. Still, it kept the searing kiss of the coolant from her skin.
Sparks and the other rebels waded ahead of her, small pilot drones lighting the way.
Ahead, the transports awaited them. There were more transports than survivors. Solaris United agents stood by: some mechanised, others almost more alien behind their rebreathers. One of them pulled her aboard.
"Is this it?" the Solaris Agent asked as he settled her down in a restraint chair, pressing a warm drink into her hands.
Neera nodded, exhausted.
"The Data Mass?"
"It's here." Neera's head hit the back of the chair, as exhaustion took hold. "We got it."
Her breath shuddered as the hatch sealed, bathing them in comforting darkness.
"We got it."
It was difficult, devising a plan under threat of Orokin death ray, but Telin was used to certain mitigating factors by this point. Necessity, being the most pressing. At the very least, it gave the crew something to focus on.
They divided their efforts.
The Severance needed to be airworthy. Engineer Lorna and her crew had survived the blast, but needed every spare hand available to fast-track repairs. Their supplies were all but expended, with non-essential systems being cannibalised to accommodate the myriad patchwork, jury-rigged solutions she was devising, seemingly on the fly. Which was good, because flying was generally the end-goal here. Teico would nominally command the ship, with Pohld at the helm.
That left twelve of them for the raid team. Telin and Kelpo, because it was "their idea" (and a "terrible one" by Pohld's ever-encouraging estimation). Stren volunteered, primarily because Stren was Stren, and wanted to stove in the skull of an Orokin, just to say he had. That, and there were precious few weapon systems left for him to manage. Any remaining power cells had long since been repurposed for more essential systems.
The rest of his men were the survivors of the earlier boarding actions. Some wanted revenge for their fallen shipmates, others were driven by curiosity; enticed by the prospect of seeing an Orokin vessel first hand.
Being a product of Corpus society, all were seduced by promises of treasure.
Weaponry was left to each team member's discretion. This was ultimately a boarding action. Audacious? Yes. Suicidal? Very probably. But short range killing power was the order of the day. Kelpo favoured a flak cannon and some kind of snub-nosed pistol of indeterminate origin. Stren opted for a combi-weapon, a chemical thrower welded to a plasma-powered rivet cannon.
Telin kept it simple. He favoured the Detron, together with a wicked looking hand-axe that had been cobbled together by one of the more morbid members of the crew. HWK-44 had fully repaired itself, and he spent the little preparation time they had upgrading its offensive armament. He hummed as he worked the plasma torch, making final adjustments. The routine was familiar to him. It calmed his frazzled nerves. The fear that turned his belly to stone, and kept his heart racing.
One by one they made ready, bracing themselves for one final effort.
Doric and Sara held their breath, as they watched Mesa writhe in silent agony at the foot of the steps.
"Did you honestly think I would let you walk in here with your Warframes without any discernible means to counter them?" Sohren shook his head, incredulous as he circled Isolde. "Have you forgotten everything you were taught?"
Isolde said nothing. She was fully immobilised. Sohren continued to lecture them, one finger raised in the air.
"Of all the Orokin's weapons, we Tenno were the most dangerous. If there was one single lesson to be learned from The Collapse, it is that none of us are invincible."
Sohren stopped speaking abruptly.
A blade had appeared at his throat. The Dax flinched in response, all too late. Even without his Frame, Kael was lightning quick.
"Truer words were never spoken." Kael warned Sohren. "Release her."
"Careful, old friend." Sohren smiled as the blade tickled his throat. "That edge is sharp."
"And fast too. Release her, or more than words will spill from you."
"Not unless I have assurances that she restrains herself." Sohren countered, icily calm, "And not while you have a blade at my throat, old friend."
Kael could feel the pain radiating from her Transference Link. He hissed. The blade eased.
Sohren took a step back, massaging his throat, that magnanimous smile still fixed on his face. He snapped his fingers.
Mesa came back to life, toppling to her knees. She looked at Kael. The Regulators remained sheathed. There was a shimmer as Isolde reappeared at Mesa's feet, clinging to her Frame for support, shivering from the invasive pain of the Transference surge.
Sohren paced back up the stairs. He sat back in the throne a healthy distance from Kael, sighing as he settled himself.
"Would it surprise you, to learn that when the time came, I gave myself gladly? I believe in the Empire. In the good that it served. Not all were equal, but there was order. Discipline. A certain code, for warriors like you and I."
Sohren shook his head.
"There is no code anymore. No order, or structure. Only chaos."
"More lies." Doric looked at Kael.
"Sohren never talked this much." Sara agreed.
Sohren scoffed. He didn't seem to be listening. There was something definitely off about him. Kael watched him, not saying a word. His face a blank mask.
"I knew Lord Septimus' designs long before I was chosen. The Orokin's longevity could only come through some form of sacrifice. You think I went in blind? Again, you think so little of me."
Sohren was lost within himself as he continued:
"But Transference is not a two process. And while Septimus was Orokin, and of a formidable mind, the Void was not with him."
Sohren's expression darkened with fury, yet his voice remained eerily serene.
"I crushed his mind like an insect." Sohren mused. "Snapped his will like some brittle twig."
Sohren looked up, snapping back to reality.
"Afterwards I banished my guards back to the ship. Toured the depths of that forbidden place, alone. Saw the mounds of bones of the dead. What became of the Orokin when their mortal vessels reached their natural end. Cast into a pit. Discarded."
Sohren stroked his chin, shaking his head slowly.
"Septimus was not worthy of our service, but his frail husk was not without its uses. I left him for Isolde to find and exact her terrible vengeance. By then the Collapse was fully underway. The Seven were gone, slaughtered at what was to be their finest hour. The Grineer Uprising was in full flame, and what little remained was scattered, indolent; undeserving of redemption or salvation."
"So you hid." Sara shook her head.
"I waited, Sara. For the slate to be wiped clean. For the opportune moment."
Doric let him speak. Tactically he was assessing the number of Dax surrounding them. Still, Kael betrayed no emotion.
"The Corpus provided that very moment. Fleeing traders and scattered refugees at first, bartering simply to survive. They gravitated to the portions of our Empire that best resisted the ravages of the Technocyte Plague and the Grineer warbands that scoured the Rail. Clustering in hubs. Organising."
Sixteen warriors, including Eythan Dax but excluding Sohren. Scenarios played through Doric's mind.
Without access to their Warframes, few ended well.
Sohren's voice continued:
"The trading companies natural became intertwined, flourishing into the Guilds we know today. Organising along strict tenets of code and rigid hierarchy. Solidifying their influence through automated proxies and jealously hoarding essential resources so many of the other Scattered Colonies required. Becoming a power in their own right."
It would not be an even split. Doric knew Eythan Dax well. Of all of Trainer's warriors, he was the most gifted. Sohren alone would demand their full attention. Doric's eye twitched. Kael alone was armed.
"It was easy to win their trust. We had access to all manner of Orokin relics, the very thing they prized the most. From there it was simply a matter of cultivating an avatar to allow us unfettered access to the Board's inner workings. A suggested dig site here, a knowing expedition there. Knowledge is power, and we had more knowledge than any three Board members combined. I mined the House's ancient resources, brokering relics for power."
"And they never suspected you?" Doric asked, his own fascination getting the better of him.
"There were those who came close, certainly. But I am a Tenno, versed in strategy, and my warriors trained Dax; gifted soldiers, spies, assassins; when need be. I had informants everywhere. Infiltrating our opponents, planting discrediting information. We even founded The Exchange: profiting from removing those we ourselves had selected for strategic elimination."
Sohren saw the stricken look on Isolde's face, and smiled.
"Yes, Isolde, you have been working for me for some time. I have followed your newfound career with great interest. That job on Ceres? Marvelous. Truly marvelous."
"All this planning. To what end, truly?" Doric folded his arms. "You can't expect to reveal yourself, and have the Board simply roll over."
"No, The Board members are willful, dangerously self-interested. I decided long ago that we must remain in the dark, unseen. Guiding, cajoling, suggesting. When the time comes, we will leverage the necessary assets. They too will be dealt with."
"You even speak like them." Isolde sounded unwell as she clambered to her feet.
"What can I say? I've had a long time to learn their ways."
Sohren sat forward in his throne, his gauntleted hands open, inviting.
"But enough talk. The Empire can be restored anew. Better than before, I promise you."
Sohren smiled, beatifically.
"I ask one final time: will you help me?"
"What happens if we refuse?" Kael asked.
The smile faded. Sohren's face was stone, his voice grave.
"Then you are my enemy, and I know that our friendship is dead."
Kael smiled faintly at that. The he burst out laughing: a sharp high laugh, almost piercing.
The others looked at him sharply. He was the dutiful lieutenant, ever the stoic soldier; seldom prone to any great emotion.
It was not a happy sound.
"It's a convincing act, I'll give you that, Septimus." Kael shook his head ruefully, "For a moment there I was convinced. Truly, I thought you were Sohren."
"What are you talking about?" Sohren blinked.
Kael's eyes were bright and clear, almost relieved.
"Doubtless much of said is true. But actions speak so much louder than words."
The laughter was gone now.
"A friend would never hold us hostage. Or wipe out a ship of innocents without a second thought. Torture Isolde and her Frame, simply to prove a point."
The Dax tensed as Kael approached the throne.
"Sohren would never harbour such imperial designs, or any grand desire to rule. He was a soldier. Lived as one. Died as one."
Kael flashed the sword in his hands; rolling it about. As he would in the practice yard with Sohren so many centuries before.
Sohren stiffened, his fists tightening on the edges of his throne.
"You're delusion Kael. Your long sleep has addled your mind. I am your friend, your Brother!"
Kael shook his head slowly, ever closing the distance. Serenely he spoke:
"These words are Orokin words. Which them make Orokin lies. Yet they speak a certain truth. They tell me I failed, long ago. That my friend is gone."
That killing stare was in Kael's eyes now. He spoke softly, yet the words carried in the hushed stillness of the chamber.
The Dax fanned out, moving to encircle him, halberds and swords raised. Sohren kept them back, his hand raised. His face a granite mask as he let Kael ascend the steps, one deliberate footfall at a time.
"But you're here, Septimus. That'll do."
Sohren's ancient blade whipped in that slow, hypnotic warm-up loop. Kael's eyes never blinked, never wavered. All emotion buried but for the coldest rage.
"I'll bury his sword in your chest, and in his name, end you. In his name, we will bring ruin to The House Eternal and dismantle its proxies, brick by treacherous brick."
Septimus-as-Sohren rose to his feet. He stood head and shoulders taller than Kael. A golden warrior ripped from the canvas of the most heroic tapestry. Imperious. Invincible.
He spat, glowering, as he drew the twin nikana. They whirled and twisted in his hands expertly. The stance was entirely alien to anything Sohren would have favoured.
It only incensed Kael further.
"You're outnumbered." Septimus sneered. "Surrounded in a battle you cannot possibly win. Your Warframes are useless here."
"You forget yourself, Lord Septimus. We are Tenno of the House Eternal, trained by your very best."
Kael settled into a forward guard, settling his feet.
"We don't need Warframes to kill you."