Chapter 2: Okay, but It Was Sixty Percent Off
I looked down at the wreckages rather sceptically.
"Who on earth designed these things?" I mumbled, before recalling Yuya's absence on this frequency.
The robotics—a rather generous description in and of itself—looked like nothing so much as a collection of bipedal barrels. Iron ones, covered in rust. Whatever the underlying technology, the sense of aesthetics behind this was like nothing I had ever seen. It was certainly nothing like the pristine servitors so characteristic of the Corpus. To be honest, the understated designs of their casing reminded me most of robots built from salvage.
You came across scrap-built robots from time to time in out-of-the-way habitations, or amongst groups with smaller margins. Minor smuggler outfits, or small-scale mercenary bands. Sometimes trader caravans whose main business ran between smaller, poorer colonies.
But that was certainly not what these were. The robots that assaulted my Orbiter were cleanly uniform in both movement and design. Anybody who had the resources to be picky about that would certainly be buying MOAs from the Corpus instead. It would be cheaper than trying to build twenty identical robots from scratch.
I gave one of the broken robots a tentative poke with my foot.
More importantly, however, was the fact that I had never encountered robots with such an odd form factor before.
The medium-sized robots, or the large-sized robot that had thrown me... Those I could still understand. But the smallest ones, I now realised, stood on legs so squat and inarticulate that they forsook any of the advantages that a bipedal design might have over wheels or tracks. Baffling. But it was something to contemplate another time.
With all of the attackers destroyed, there was no longer a pressing need for me to be out here. I contemplated immediately returning to the Orbiter. Yuya had said something to me just as I left, and my Warframe was without most of its abilities. That said, the only attackers in the area had been these brown robots which were evidently vulnerable to even sidearms fire.
I decided to make a quick lap around my crashed Orbiter before returning to Yuya. It would only take a moment, and could reveal crucial information. A low-hanging fruit, as these things went.
As I jogged a circle around the cavern in my crippled Nyx, the first thing I noticed was that this space was fairly expansive. It was dark in here. Dark even with the light pollution spilling from the Orbiter. That was the first indication of this cavern's rough size. Straining my Warframe's vision, I could discern that there was a wide berth between my Orbiter and where I could dimly make out the cavern walls. Easily between fifty and a hundred metres, on every side.
The next thing I noted was that although the cavern was made of stony bedrock, my Orbiter was sitting on top of a bed of concrete rubble. Yuya's first impression was that this wasn't an underground facility. Looking around, I was inclined to agree with her.
Considering the natural look of the cave, it felt unlikely to me that we had landed on some underground building. It was much more likely, I suspected, that we had simply pulled the rubble down with us when we crashed in from above. And given how weathered the concrete looked, I doubted that it had been a particularly important installation either. I could be wrong of course, but important facilities tended to be patched up long before they reached this degree of erosion. I knew what I would bet my credits on.
Where exactly those robots had come from was a cause for concern, but at least we didn't seem to have crashed directly into some subterranean military facility. Hopefully that had been a task force that we simply had the bad luck to cross paths with, and their base of operations was far, far away.
Back to the concrete, though...
I placed my hands on my hips and turned my gaze upwards. Huh. I was nine tenths certain that the light in the far distance was the sky, but all I could really see were clouds of dust illuminated by rays of light. I focused. It was still difficult to make out anything beyond that.
Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. I could also make out that it was far. Much too far.
I considered the minimum size of the hole my Orbiter must have punched through the surface. I then considered the rays of light, and the fairly narrow source from where they appeared to originate. The surface was looking to be a far higher climb than my Nyx could make without handholds or the ability to use advanced manoeuvres.
It wasn't looking likely that I'd be surveying the surface any time soon. Not until I'd built some scaffolds. Or unless I went there in my true body. There were ledges here and there that I could Void Dash between.
I was confident I had the resources to fabricate the required ladders and platforms to bring my Nyx to the top. With the Orbiter in need of repair though, I was less confident that was a wise idea. The idea of being evacuated without my ship didn't bear thinking about.
On the other hand, from the aforementioned concrete—reinforced with ferrite beams, by the looks of it—it was clear that there would be at least basic salvage on the surface. Perhaps enough to provide a return on the resources invested in a ladder system. As long as the structure we crashed into on the way down wasn't currently inhabited, we could strip it for resources. Perhaps resources beyond just the basic ferrite, too.
I was about two thirds of the way through my jog around our landing site―noting what looked like they could be tunnels leading out of the cavernーwhen a familiar shade of azure light approached me. As the darkness gradually gave way, the fuzzy blue glow came into focus, revealing the pearlescent sheen of my sentinel as well as a full squad of MOAs.
"Nagi?"
Although the artificial creature was armless, Nagi had no problems bearing a small load. In this case, a slab of ferrite. Huh. Bemused, I reached out a hand to relieve the sentinel of its burden.
It was just a slab of ferrite.
Uncertainly, I flipped the thing over in my hands. Ah. Carved by fabricator into the surface of the alloy were the neat curves of Orokin script. A message for me, from Yuya.
'Be careful, Operator. Your Warframe's power systems are empty. Please return when you can.'
Cute.
It was sweet of her to send back-up, but it really hadn't been a problem.
Drawing the smaller blade of my Nami Skyla, I carved a rough 'I'm fine. Back soon.' into the unmarred side of the ferrite while Nagi floated patiently by.
"Thanks."
I handed the slab back to it.
Task completed, the sentinel disappeared into the darkness again, presumably to return to the ship.
"The rest of you, there should be five MOAs near the Orbiter. Stand guard with them," I ordered the robotics. I watched them follow Nagi into the distance before I continued scouting.
In the end I ran the rest of the way around the Orbiter without anything further of note to show for it. Brief inspection complete, I began making my way back up the mountain of rubble surrounding my ship. It was when I reached the Orbiter itself that I realised my predicament.
Right. No power, and an entrance two stories above me.
Without my advanced manoeuvre systems online, there was no way I could make that jump. My people, as a rule of thumb, abhorred redundancy. If the Void could supply ample power, then there was no need for another power source. If a Warframe could simply bullet jump, then there was no need for a jump pack.
Any old foot soldier, Grineer or Crewman, could easily make this seven metre leap. The irony of that fact was not lost on me.
I fiddled with the rings on my horns as I thought.
I could try climbing. But even with the damage to its surface—I wasn't sure what was because of the crash and what could be blamed on the attackers—my Orbiter had too few handholds to make it reliable, at least this close to the front.
I peered into the darkness to my right.
The structures further back did sport ledges that would help me scale them, but they weren't connected to my Orbiter's new entrance by anything I could use as a walkway.
It was a first in my life, but my Nyx was probably going to need a ramp.
At least pieces of concrete were in abundance.
About a minute later, I found myself glaring with frustration at the weathered construction material. Void, these things were heavy. If I knew this was going to happen, I would have asked Nagi to bring me a lever. The MOAs were no help either, twenty of them doddering about like the avian creatures they resembled.
For a moment I considered sitting here, simply waiting until Yuya sent Nagi again to see what was happening, but in the end I thought better of it. The hunks of concrete were a burden to be sure, but the challenge was hardly insurmountable. It would be beneath me to extend the length of time we spent vulnerable simply because I was having trouble dragging some rubble together. I was going to get this ramp built.
Another minute later, and the idea of just waiting was starting to look appealing again.
Why were these things so heavy? I eyed the slab of concrete that I was slowly dragging into place. My thoughts went to the blades attached to my back.
What if I simply cut this? Did I really need a ramp? Would not a semi-stable mountain of rubble suffice just as well?
I was sorely tempted to take the easier way out. At least until I remembered that I would probably have to have the fallen robots dragged into the ship for salvage and deconstruction, unless I wanted to task the whole thing to poor Nagi.
Disgusted, I resigned myself to the labour.
It was difficult work, made harder by the size of the piece of rubble I had chosen for the ramp itself, but after a few minutes I found myself stepping back to examine my handiwork. That largest slab of concrete was propped up against my ship such that its zenith led right below the cooling hole in the wall. Beneath the ramp were smaller pieces of rubble, carefully arranged in a way that the load from above would keep the whole structure immovable. Finally, around the base of the ramp, I had built heavy stacks of concrete that would hopefully prevent the ramp from sliding away from the Orbiter.
I gave my creation a few rough kicks, just to see if it budged. It was satisfyingly solid. At least one thing had gone right today. I made my way up the make-shift construction, trying to savour the small victory for what it was.
No sooner had I stepped into my Orbiter did my mood sour again. Right. My home was still tilted. And flooded. A pang of outrage filled my chest when I thought of Caius again. He wasn't the most agreeable fellow, but he was a fish of philosophy and deserved to go out with more dignity than he had.
"I was getting worried, Operator. What happened?"
At least the cleaning drones were slowly fixing the mess that used to be his tank.
"The hostiles were no issue. Small calibre rounds from a Stiletto tore through them like paper. My Warframe though..."
"I should've realised sooner," she said, self-recriminating. "Your Warframe's power systems were completely empty; everything powered by the Void is completely non-functional. I was too slow to realise, and then you were—"
I left my Nyx—ugh, I had forgotten I was still wet—and cut her off with a scoff.
"I was a little too enthusiastic, Yuya. It was my fault," I said. "Besides, they were hardly a problem."
Never let an overprotective ship Cephalon get started. You would never hear the end of it.
"And I'm fine," I added with a note of finality, patting myself on the chest. "Let us move on from that, shall we? How is the Orbiter?"
I could guess that Yuya was less than willing to let it go, but in the end she managed, at least for now.
"Besides being completely cut off from the Void?" she asked wearily.
It was rare to hear her so disheartened.
"A lot of systems are damaged. I'm confident we'll have the sensors back online within the hour. The communications array suffered worse damage, but I'm prioritising the entanglement transceivers to reestablish transmission with reinforcements."
"What needs to be done to get us out of here?" I asked.
"On our own?" Yuya gave a sigh. "I don't know why there's no Void energy, but without it we're in trouble. The Orbiter was designed to be very power hungry. Even without the Void cloaking, the propulsors alone would require every one of our auxiliary power generators online, and then we'd need to double those numbers."
Yuya paused for a moment.
"That's going to require quantities of Rubedo that we just don't have," she admitted.
I should never have sold those Quellors.
I mulled over my situation for a moment. All right. So first of all, for whatever reason, we were totally dry on Void energy.
"Do you think it's nullification technology?" I asked. I didn't specify further, but Yuya understood me.
"If the Corpus could nullify Void energy on a scale like this, we'd have known already."
I thought about it for a moment.
"What if it was localised to the Orbiter?"
"I suppose that could be possible," Yuya allowed. "When we reestablish contact with Strata Relay, I'll be sure to mention it in the distress call. What about the attackers?"
"It's not Corpus."
"Well, we are on Earth, but—" Yuya said hesitantly.
"No, I mean the technology isn't Corpus either," I clarified. "The robots. They were not built to the same design philosophies that dictate typical Corpus proxies."
That was perhaps understating it.
"Oh?"
"They looked like… Well, large rusty buckets."
"Rusty... buckets?"
She sounded like she was torn between being concerned and amused.
"You think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. Stout, thick, brown metal cylinders with spherical heads made of the same material. Two round ocular sensors each that glow red in the dark. A far cry from Corpus engineering."
"Odd. You mentioned round eyes. Some Grineer researcher's pet project?"
I snorted.
"If it was, they certainly have an odd approach to efficiency. I only spared them a brief glance, but every point of articulation seemed to rotate on a single axis. Whoever created these robots abhors ball joints," I joked.
"Grineer do like to keep things simple and robust," was Yuya's wry reply.
She did have a point.
"All right. Fair. But these were not robust. I told you: my Akstiletto shredded them like paper. These robots weren't even armoured."
"Prototypes, maybe?"
"Well what are they doing down here? You probably don't know, but it's just a dingy cave system out there. Shouldn't prototypes be kept safe in a lab somewhere?"
"Abandoned prototypes then?" she suggested. "I'll have a better idea once I get a look at them."
Most of them had been destroyed with small calibre rounds, so I had no reason to believe that they weren't mostly intact. It was worth a look. That said...
"I don't suppose you expect me to drag them in myself, do you?" I asked sheepishly.
Yuya's melodic laughter filled the room.
"I would send some specters to help, but they were inert when I deployed them earlier."
Oh. To be honest, I'd forgotten I even had specters. If ever I required a distraction, a squad of MOAs would have served just as well, and at a far cheaper cost. They were an especially economical option if you purchased them in bulk, and sometimes they were discounted as much as fifty percent. You just needed to know who to buy from.
Right now I needed something to ferry salvage, though.
"I don't suppose we bought any MOA walkers with arms?" I tried.
"The Corpus are known to increase production costs for no perceivable gain," she said with irony.
I flushed. Hey, they did do that sometimes, at least for their consumer products. No merchant—no matter how silver-tongued—could convince me that domestik drones cleaned any better by lighting up like a rainbow kaleidoscope.
"We should still have some Ospreys in cargo. Do you think those would be enough?" she asked.
I thought about it for a moment. The Ospreys we had in storage weren't the models used for hauling freight. And the largest robots had been big, and if they were built like the smaller ones I had kicked, they would be heavy too.
"It's worth a try," I finally said. "I built a ramp outside. If they prove to be too heavy, perhaps we can tie a few MOAs to each and have them drag one together."
"Should I deploy them now?"
I considered our situation for a beat before I came to a decision.
"Don't stop at the Ospreys. Deploy everything we have, and secure our perimeter," I decided.
A pause.
"Everything? You're sure?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Is there something I haven't considered?"
I thought it was rather straightforward. We crash landed on Earth. The chances that we were in Grineer-held territory instead of some Ostron holding were overwhelmingly higher.
"We have well over eight hundred MOAs in cargo," Yuya said flatly.
That gave me pause. That was an awful lot of MOAs.
"Could we break them down for resources?" I said. I briefly hesitated, but ultimately voiced my doubt. "And why do we have so many?"
"This model isn't very resource rich."—Well, drat.—"And it was the Winter Solstice sales," Yuya reminded me. After a moment, she added, "You were very enthusiastic about the discounts. 'Sixty percent off isn't a discount, but an opportunity!' were your exact words. The MOAs weren't the only thing you bought either."
Huh. I was feeling rather nonplussed about this turn of events, especially considering that my recollection of this supposed purchase was more than a little vague. In the end though, I rallied and changed gears.
"Operator?"
If the enemy came in force while I was still unprepared and uninformed, I might not be able to hold the Orbiter. Then it would just be the three of us—poor Caius—on the run, Tenno, Cephalon, and Sentinel. I had to consider that this… indignity might come to pass.
Finding out that I had hundreds of MOAs to protect the Orbiter, though? This was a good thing.
"Operator? Are you okay?"
After all, there was no telling how soon Grineer would be here, and how long we would have to wait for reinforcements.
"Yes. Yes. I'm simply… overwhelmed by my outstanding wisdom and foresight."
Not only would they serve as a sizable deterrent, the large numbers meant a more efficient scouting force. Why, perhaps the Rubedo that we needed was just around the corner! With hundreds of MOAs looking around, we would find it all the sooner.
"Wisdom and foresight, is it?" she repeated. "Well, alright. I'll deploy everything we have, but the bulk of them are in deep storage; they'll take some time to reassemble. While that happens, could you tell me more about the situation outside?"
I nodded. To be frank, there was little to tell. I went over the position the Orbiter was in, the rough size of the cavern, how far down we seemed to have landed, and the fact that there seemed to be tunnels that led out of our location. Beyond that, I didn't have anything useful to pass on besides my plans for the near future and the complications of the cavern walls.
"I might have to scout the surface in the flesh," I admitted. "It just isn't possible for my Nyx to make it up there."
Yuya was less than pleased to hear that.
"Operator, I'd rather just build the ladders you need. These caverns could be a dead end. If we're forced to escape from an attack, you're going to need to be able to reach the surface in your Nyx. It might be vulnerable for now, but this nullification effect might be localised to the Orbiter, as you said. If the worst comes to worst, your Nyx could be your best chance for survival."
She did have a point. I wasn't above admitting to the fact that I hadn't considered that the ladders might be necessary anyway.
Still.
"It's going to take time to construct those," I huffed, "and we might have secured reinforcements by then. I'd rather not sit here blind for another minute if we can help it."
The Orbiter was silent save for the hum of the cleaning drones while Yuya seemed to mull over it.
"Okay."
Before I could say anything, Yuya continued.
"But at least wait until repairs have made a little more progress. I don't need the communication arrays to be fixed: just stay here with me until it's fixed enough for short-range transmissions."
To be honest this was just being overprotective now. I was just planning to dash through the Void to the surface and poke my head around a little. Nobody would even notice me. It wasn't as though I was planning to wage a war up there.
That said, I already knew what the outcome would be if I said that. In the end I didn't really have a choice. Not unless I wanted to upset her again.
"All right. Just until we've established local communications then," I conceded.
In the end, that time came less than ten minutes later. I was cleaning myself up, and picking out firearms that I could use in my real body when Yuya finally called me.
"I've modified your Oculus for short range communications," she explained. "We'll be able to communicate with each other through it. I've also fabricated some passive sensor drones that I'd like you to bring to the surface."
I blinked.
"Are they heavy?"
It was an important question.
"No, Operator. They aren't heavy."
"Good, because I'm already bringing a Stiletto and a Vasto, okay?"
As far as revolvers went, I would have preferred a Magnus over the Vasto, but the former was probably powered by Void energy and therefore as much use to me as a rock right now.
"Huh. I thought you said you were just going to take a look around," she said warningly. "If anything happens, I want you to run, not fight."
I waved her off.
"Of course, of course. Yet, would I not be twice as safe if I was prepared just in case?"
"Obviously. I'm just making sure you remember what you're going up there to do," she said with a grumble.
"I remember," I promised her. Yuya was such a nag.
With that, I hopped out of the hole in my Orbiter and slowly made my way down the ramp. Depending on how long we were stuck here, I was going to have to consider how I would get in and out if we patched that hole up. I wasn't too keen on building a second ramp. Could we install an airlock there, instead?
Outside, I took my time in carefully making my way up, from one piece of rubble to another. Before long, I was standing on the piece of bedrock that was closest to the light up above.
"Testing. Can you hear me, Operator?"
"I can," I confirmed.
"The feed from the camera on your shoulder is coming through the transmission."
Good, good. I would have Yuya's eyes with me too, then. I tightened the straps of my backpack, and ran my fingers across my firearms. Taking a deep breath, I took one last look at the Orbiter. This was it.
"All right, here I go."
"Be careful."
I sank below the surface of the Void, feeling its familiar nothingness wash over me. Focusing, I dashed to the lowest ledge. When I was sure the rock below me was stable, I stepped out of the Void.
"I have arrived at the first ledge," I said grandly.
"Good job. Just keep being careful."
I silently acknowledged her.
Dash. Dash. Dash. Dash.
By the fifth ledge, I was growing rather comfortable with this. The rock face had been surprisingly sturdy, and the closer I was to the surface, the easier it was to see where I was going. Perhaps the return trip would be a little trickier, but I was sure I could manage with some focus. Maybe Yuya could arrange some searchlights for me.
Dash. Dash. Dash.
"Three more, Operator."
By now I was close enough that I could actually see out of the hole. Although I spotted concrete ruins above us, as I had hoped, we had landed in some kind of forested area. I would have been even more heartened if we had landed in the Plains near one of the many Ostron colonies, but I would take what I could get. At least it wasn't in the deforested regions that marked strong Grineer control.
Ah, the Grineer hated trees. They always had, they always would.
Dash. Dash. And dash!
I found my footing on weathered concrete, grass growing through its cracks. Looking around, I confirmed a lack of hostiles around before I surfaced from the Void.
More assured of my safety now, I finally had the chance to take in my surroundings. As it turned out, my suspicions about the source of the rubble had been completely correct.
The buildings around me were positively prehistoric. More the weathered remains of what had once been buildings than true buildings themselves. Somehow, the mutated flora of the Earth had failed to form a dense canopy here, but it was not for lack of growth.
All around me, mammoth vines and leviathan trees twined around the corpses of ancient landmarks. It was different to the thick jungle that I was more accustomed to on this planet. Yet the atmosphere that this space evoked was one and the same.
The influence that humanity once held here was naught but whispers and ghosts. Here, nature went unchallenged, and this place was her dominion once again.
Hmm. That was pretty good. Maybe becoming a novelist wouldn't be such a bad idea.
I would have to write that one down somewhere.
For the moment though, I dashed up the tallest building in the vicinity. I stepped out of the Void hidden behind the cover of leaves. Like all the other structures in the area, this one had been claimed by a large leafy tree. That suited me perfectly fine.
I scanned the skyline for any signs of Grineer ships—clear skies, at least within a forty kilometre radius—while I unloaded the backpack I brought with me.
As Yuya had asked, I began to set up the passive sensors on the rooftop. They supposedly emitted few signals, so would hopefully go unnoticed unless the Grineer had reason to look here.
"Say, Yuya?"
"What is it, Operator?"
While I worked on installing the machines, there was something I wanted to ask. It was a question that had been niggling in the back of my mind for a while now.
"All those MOAs…" I began.
"What about them?" asked Yuya over the comms.
"Even at a sixty percent discount—which is definitely an opportunity, I'll reaffirm—how on earth did I find the funds to buy them all?"
Eight hundred was an absurd number. There were competent mercenary outfits that didn't field that many. Unlike many other Tenno—my friend Mara for instance—my Orbiter had spent my years in cryosleep completely untouched. As a result, I possessed many items considered Orokin Era treasures in this day and age. That said, I was a far cry from a merchant tycoon, so I should have noticed such an outflow of my savings.
"You really don't remember, Operator? It was the Winter Solstice sale a few months ago. We were in the Fara Vallis, looking through the night markets, and to fund your shopping spree you fabricated all those Quellors—"
"—to sell to that mercenary captain for spending money," I finished.
Oh dear. Is that why we were out of Rubedo?
A/N: Hari is less attached to the Lotus, not because I'm into Evil Dumbledore tropes (although they are, admittedly, pretty funny), but because she woke up later than Player Tenno and is kind of a stupid kid. 'School?! They just exist to keep us down, man!'
As Big Shrug Man pointed out, Tenno are probably their own tiny little doors to the Void. As hinted in Chapter 1, Hari can provide the Warframe with power. It's not going to be a lot though—certainly not enough for business as usual. My reasoning for that basically boils down to, 'Remember how quickly your Operator ran out of energy before you started Focus farming?'
Mara was the Tenno vanguard who survived all the trials and tribulations of the story quests and came out way stronger for it. Hari just woke up comfortably in her pod on Lua a few hours after the end of Second Dream, and got princess carried to her Orbiter by agents of the Lotus.