Apologies for the long wait. I basically put everything on hold to finish my bachelors degree.

The Star

Radiation is one of the most common threats in space. Any experienced space traveler knows, for example, of the deadly radiation belts that settle around Earth and Jupiter. Or the vast amounts of radiation spewing forth from the sun. Such radiation is poorly dealt with by living beings or sensitive machinery and electronics. Therefore, isolating living spaces from this threat is only second to maintaining the structural integrity against internal atmospheric pressure and outside vacuum.

So when any Corpus structure's monitoring systems detect gamma radiation well inside the radiation shielding that's supposed to hold it at bay, it is treated as a crisis. All the more so when the structure in question is one of Board Member Nef Anyo's personal vaults.

You are shaken from your routine maintenance by the blaring of the priority one alarm. Rad breaches aren't common, but neither are they unknown occurrences. The first priority is to isolate the affected area. And while it means that any personnel trapped in that area are left to the mercy of the radiation source, that's simply the cost of business. A callous disregard for worker health and safety is inherent to the Corpus, but this is standard procedure for anyone, whether Corpus, Grineer or independent.

You call over the comm, asking if the doomed crew has any information about the breach. A few minutes later, the answer is a negative. This is an unwelcome but unsurprising piece of information. The vault is close to a radiation belt for the purpose of being hidden from sensors and protected from one-man infiltration. But occasionally, the belts can shift and surround the place. During that time, the most external compartments are restricted from habitation. Any breach in that area can result in a dose of radiation that kills within minutes.

But then you recall something. The belt has just shifted away from the vault recently. It does so at irregular intervals, but there is usually a space of several weeks between those times. And the area in question is not close to the station reactor, the other source of radiation. A reactor breach would have resulted in total station shutdown.

Your unvoiced question is answered when the closest crew sends everyone a visual feed of a wrecked doorway and the sight of several bodies riddled with gunfire. The picture becomes clear. This is an assault.

This is not the first time anyone has raided this particular space vault on your watch. Infighting and backstabbing are common within the Corpus, and the Grineer love to make off with any void artifacts from poorly defended space stations.

The security team commander orders a scan of the station while your team of technicians begins setting up defensive barricades and traps. A live feed appears on every Corpus datapad. It shows an anomalous presence appearing and disappearing at several points. It is moving much too fast to be a Corpus or Grineer team. A sinking feeling takes hold of your stomach, as new radiation alarms go off, centered on each of the various choke points within the station.

You order your team to fall back to a more open area, one significantly reinforced by a large number of security personnel and assault mechs. The teams in front of you were wiped out before any of them had a chance to say anything on the comms. Spreading out your force should be a good counter to it.

No sooner have you taken your positions and faced the door then it is obliterated by an explosion. While the radiation alarm in this area goes off, your visor filters settle, and you finally lay eyes on the enemy.

As you suspected, it is a Tenno. With golden furnishings on its black armor, and what appear to be thrusters on the back of its head and shoulders. You catch sight of many little objects whizzing around it, as if in orbit.

A fusillade of gunfire erupts toward the Tenno to little effect. Those objects seem to be absorbing the projectiles. You even notice plasma bending its flight path to smash into one of those objects and away from the Tenno as if under an immense gravitational force.

The Tenno hefts an Opticor cannon before waving its arm and tearing open a void portal. It vanishes, and your comrades turn around to try and find where it went. A cry echoes out, and you spin around only to see the Tenno in the center of the room with one hand raised. And a concentrated ball of void energy swirling above its fingers.

And then it slams that energy into the floor.

A wave sweeps over every moving object in the room, and you suddenly feel like the air has become syrupy. It is difficult for you to move. As you and others frantically try to bring your weapons to bear, the Tenno stands, looks upward, and vanishes once more into a void portal. Your eyes sweep upward, and you see the Tenno standing on an upper walkway. Another ball appears over its hand, and it flings this ball toward the center of the room.

Instinctively, you know that this object is bad news. Everyone in the room opens fire, trying to shoot down the approaching ball, but the gunfire does nothing. Behind it, you can see the Tenno aiming its Opticor.

Also targeting the ball.

And then it fires.

Time slows down as you see the ball ripple and distort into an oblate disc. It briefly shines with energy that lights up everyone around you, and you only have time to squint before a tremendous explosion rocks the room.

Your evirosuit alarms trigger as you are slammed against the wall hard enough to pulverize your spine. A new wave of radiation rolls over your similarly incapacitated comrades. Meanwhile, the Tenno leaps down and warps forward, continuing on into the vault while the gamma radiation penetrates your suit and begins liquefying your shattered body. Mercifully, your last moments are painless as your irradiated nervous system shuts down.

Most of the time in game, enemies are treated as dead the second their health depletes. In real life, instant death is very rare.

Nekros, then Valkyr next.