First chapter from the game timeframe. This was written by my friend. I want to preface this by saying I was not in on the planning for this and the three after the next one, I simply did the editing and added some context with the next chapter, which I wrote myself. Still, as stated previously if you've made it this far, thanks, and I apologize once again for any possible whiplash. Italics in the main body of the text will denote words spoken in a different language which Connor here can't actually understand.
He was having nightmares again. Of the tenno, slaughtering the Orokin, of cities burning while he watched from above, helpless to do anything about it. Of Anya… covered in blood, holding her sword to his throat as he screamed her name, trying desperately to get her to remember him. Then the strike, the sword sinking deep into his throat while he choked on his own blood…
He woke disoriented, strapped to an upright table, no matter how hard he tried he could not move, and for some reason he was cold and sore all over.
"He's waking up. Should we start?"
"In a minute. Let him get more oriented."
He heard voices, the first one male, the second female, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. They spoke in a language he'd never heard before, to him it sounded like gibberish. He tried to move his head to see the speakers, but his neck was stiff, and the room was so dark he was unable to make out much more than steel beams and walls. A ship maybe? Then the second voice, the woman, spoke in his own language.
"Do you know where you are?" she asked.
"Who are you?! What the hell?! Why can't I move?!" What did you do to me?!" Connor Woodstock shouted.
"We are going to ask you some questions," the woman said, "If you answer incorrectly, or if you lie to us, you will feel this."
He heard a click, then his mind exploded in white noise. There was pain everywhere, from the very ends of his toes to his every individual hair follicle. Then it ceased. He must have been screaming, his throat felt ragged, but evidently he hadn't been able to hear himself over the pain.
"Shall we begin?" the woman asked.
"Hey, FUC—!" his retort was cut off by more static in his head, more pain everywhere. This time, he heard himself screaming. When it finally stopped he was out of breath and his muscles spasmed, causing his limbs to jerk involuntarily and his chest to heave.
"We also recommend not speaking out of turn," she told him, "Oh, and too much jerking around will cause the system to shock you also, as it will perceive your movements as an escape attempt. Now; let's begin. Is your name Connor Woodstock, sergeant with the Orokin Marines?"
"Yes, but—" they shocked him again.
"A simple 'yes' will suffice for an answer, Sergeant Woodstock," she said, "Now that we have that little mystery solved, let's get down to the nitty gritty. What were you doing in a Tenno cryopod? You, an Orokin marine?"
At first he didn't think he'd heard her correctly. A tenno cryopod? Why? How? It didn't make sense, he couldn't make any sense of his memories. He remembered waking up the morning of the ceremony, being at the ceremony, and then nothing. Blank, a black hole. Little snippets of memory came and went, but nothing to make a cohesive chain of events. Only something about a horrific incident. A burning city? Flying?
"I-I don't know." He expected the shock this time, but it still hurt as bad as ever. It seemed to last forever. He screamed until he ran out of air and the pain increased, his lungs refusing to draw another breath.
"Enough."
"But—"
"I said, ENOUGH!"
He heard the two voices again. The woman giving a stern order, the man sounding confused and a little indignant, followed by the raised voice of the woman repeating the earlier order. The shock stopped. His body continued to convulse, and he still couldn't get his lungs to work.
"You think he's having a seizure?"
The man sounded irritatingly amused by Stock's pain. The woman didn't respond in their strange language, instead she addressed the marine again.
"I will ask you again, Sergeant Woodstock, what were you doing in a tenno cryopod?" she asked, "If you lie to us again the pain will simply continue to increase. So I suggest you choose your answers wisely."
"I don't know!" he cried in a strangled gasp. He felt the surge beginning again and quickly shouted, "Wait! I don't remember, I swear I don't! I have no memory of any cryopod, let alone a tenno cryopod! I don't even have a clue where the fuck I am!" He felt the oncoming surge of electricity subside, then there was a moment of silence before the woman spoke again.
"Sergeant Woodstock, where does your loyalty lie?" she questioned, "Are you loyal to the Orokin Emperor?"
He couldn't help himself, he laughed. It hurt, badly, but he did it. "No, the emperor can go drown in mud," he spat, "So if you are part of the empire, kill me now, because I'm done. I might not know where I am or how I got here but I do know how much I hate the empire."
There was a brief silence before the woman spoke again, this time in an amused tone.
"Well then, you'll be pleased to hear that the Orokin Empire fell thousands of years ago," she said, "But that still doesn't explain what you were doing in a tenno cryopod."
"I don't know…" he said softly.
He felt broken and confused, how could it have been thousands of years? He felt like he was waking up after some horrific accident. A few hours at most should have passed but if what they were saying was true… thousands of years? Long enough for his friends and family to grow old, die, rot in the ground and turn to dust. Long enough for several empires to rise and fall, and yet it seemed like he had just awakened from a long nap.
"If you do not remember how you ended up in the tenno cryopod, what do you remember?" the woman asked, "What is your latest memory?"
"Waking up here with you two fu—" This time the surge was worth it. He wasn't broken, he still had his wit, and he wasn't going to just let them break him.
"Need I remind you where you are, Sergeant Woodstock?" the woman demanded, "Or should we deliver a few more shocks to jog your memory?! We ask you the questions, you answer them. Stop fucking around with my time, and you may actually live long enough to get the answers you seek!"
Sweat dripped from his brow onto the floor. He was tired, let his head hang to try and give his strained neck muscles a break. He stared in slight confusion at a dark liquid dripping to the floor for several seconds before realizing that it was coming from his mouth. He wondered if he'd bitten his tongue or his cheek while they were shocking him or if it was coming from something far more internal.
"I will ask you this again, and if you decide to give me a smart ass retort I will allow this man shocking you to continue to do so until he's satisfied. I suspect that he will not let you leave this room alive," the woman said, "Now. What is the latest thing you remember? Besides waking up here with us two 'fucks' as you were about to so eloquently put it."
She was running out of patience, he could hear it in her voice. She was serious and he was nearing his time. How did that old song go? "For whom the bell tolls, time marches on?" Well, yes, it does march, and it will continue to march. On, and on, and on.
He felt a quick shock which jolted him from his stupor. Thinking quickly, he said, "The ceremony. I remember the tenno's 'welcome home, you did a good job' ceremony… well, I remember snippets of it… It comes and goes, I can't get a firm grasp on any exact memory, all I know is that I was there. And something happened. Something eventful, something monumental, something on a universe changing scale. But I can't remember what, my memory is all fucked up…"
He was expecting another shock and for the woman to tell him he was lying, that he had wasted their time enough, and it was time to die. Instead she was quiet for some time before finally saying, "So you have no clue why you were there. If that memory is jumbled, what is your next latest memory?"
He felt weak. His muscles were sore, he was sweaty, but so cold it was almost its own form of pain. A good-sized pool of blood had formed on the floor at his feet. He thought of Anya and the last time he'd seen her, that was his latest memory, two years before the ceremony. The whole two years between were a fuzz, like nothing was there or if it was, then it was hiding.
"I remember a raid I took part in," he said, "Two years before the ceremony. I was with a tenno named Anya, that's my next clear memory." He thought of Anya and how they had always looked out for each other, even as other marines died around them he kept living and so did she, she had been his main constant during that turbulent time.
"A raid? How do you know it was two years? What happened during the two years between the raid and the ceremony?" the woman questioned.
"I don't know… I only know it was two years…" he felt himself drifting as he was talking, and he couldn't bring himself to care. The woman asked him something else, but he was gone by then, lost in his own memory of the past, of better and worse times.
Stock woke early as usual, looking around the room at the ten other sleeping marines he shared the room with. Everyone was sprawled out on the floor wherever there was space available, using whatever they had as pillows or blankets. Most were using their rucksacks as pillows and flak jackets as blankets. Everyone held a rifle to them like a teddy bear. His eyes finally came to rest on the tenno sitting cross legged in the corner of the room with her head down. He remembered how, when they'd first been assigned this room, most of his squad had thrown a fit about having the tenno sleep… or whatever she did, in the same room with them. But as the high command had stated, Anya(they never referred to her by name, only as "the tenno"), "is part of the squad, she stays with the squad," and that included sleeping in the same room with the rest of them. Stock wasn't even sure if Anya slept at all. He knew she meditated, a lot. And ate, rarely. Hell, he only knew that because she had to go to a separate building every few days for "check-ups" as she put it. He later learned from her that she had her armor tuned, got a medical check-up, and ate some kind of energy bar made for tenno.
He got up and picked up his rifle, tiptoed around the sleeping marines to where she was sitting, then nudged her boot with his, and when she looked up he jerked his chin toward the door in the universal "let's get out of here" motion. He grabbed his toiletries, then the two of them quietly exited the building and headed for the co-ed bathrooms. As he rinsed his face and started to shave in the sink(showering was restricted to twice a week due to water rationing), he asked her the question that had been bugging him that morning. "Do you sleep, Anya? Or do you just like… Meditate, the whole time?"
Anya leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed. In her warframe she was slightly taller than he was, and strong, incredibly strong. But he knew that under the warframe she was actually a little shorter than him. "Why? Thinking about joining me in meditating in hopes of finding that 'enlightenment' you marines so desperately seek?" she asked teasingly.
He didn't know how to respond to that, but it turned out he didn't have to, as he heard a quick giggle from her and she said, "I'm kidding, yes I sleep. I usually meditate for a few hours beforehand though. It helps to calm my mind, especially after a patrol or mission, because my mind is still going a light year ahead of everything, trying to figure out how I could have done things differently or better. Also to make sure a certain marine isn't trying to draw a penis or something equally ridiculous on my helmet like most of you boys seem to find entertaining. Then I sleep, like a rock."
Well, she was in a playful mood this morning. He scoffed and continued his shave while muttering, "I'd never, you know me better than that."
She just laughed. After he finished his morning routine he walked with her to the makeshift science lab where the tenno went to undergo tests and tune-ups on her warframe and left her there, making his way to the mess hall for breakfast and then finally to formation for their daily "bitch-out" session as he liked to call it. The idea was that they would receive useful information every morning, but it seemed like they always ended up being bitched out for how ever they managed to fuck up the day prior, or how they were going to fuck up in the day to come.
He relaxed a little on seeing Anya was already there, and since she wasn't a marine she didn't have to stand in formation along with them. Instead she was a third party observer, and was standing beside and a little behind the master sergeant looking like a statue. He was thinking about the upcoming patrol when the gunnery sergeant called him out. He guessed that his name had been called a few times because everyone was staring at him, and even Anya had tensed up.
"Private Woodstock, did you get my orders?" the gunny demanded, then roared, "Front and center, NOW, MARINE!"
Stock scrambled out of formation and half jogged to the front to stand at attention in front of the gunnery sergeant. Then the master sergeant strode forward, grabbing a folder from the gunnery sergeant's hand and glared at Stock. He knew he was in trouble, and started contemplating how bad this was going to be.
"Why are you out of uniform, marine?!" the master sergeant demanded.
Stock started to look around at his fellow marines to see if he somehow missed a uniform inspection memo.
"Don't look at them for answers, this is on you, marine!" the master sergeant barked, "Why are you out of uniform?!"
Stock's mind raced, he wasn't out of uniform, was he? He was wearing the exact same uniform as all the other marines present. "I don't know, master sergeant," Stock replied. He chanced a glance at Anya and noticed her gauntleted hand resting on her sword hilt, her grip tightening on it. She's expecting trouble, he thought.
"Well I know why you are out of uniform, and I have an excellent solution to your fuck up!" The master sergeant was red-faced. But the gunnery sergeant looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Attention to promotion!" The whole platoon snapped to attention, even Anya straightened up a bit, dropping her hand from her sword as she did so. "Private Woodstock, Connor, in recognition of your outstanding service to the Empire and the Marine Corps, I hereby promote you to the rank of Corporal. Wear your new rank with pride, and serve with honor!"
Stock couldn't believe his ears. For a second he thought he was still asleep and dreaming. A promotion? What? Really?
The master sergeant was smiling as he pinned Stock's new rank onto his uniform and then said, "A round of applause for the new corporal."
The marines all clapped and cheered him on. After he shook hands with the master sergeant, the gunnery sergeant approached him and said, "I have a special assignment for you and Sergeant Havoc. Report to the command building in one hour."
Stock was still feeling a little elated about the promotion, but he nodded his head, accepting the orders.
"Good, and take the tenno with you, apparently this concerns it too." With that the gunnery sergeant walked away.
After formation Sergeant Havoc came up and said, "Congrats, you fucker, now you're slightly less expendable. Still expendable, but no longer bottom rung." They started walking toward the command building and Stock motioned for Anya to follow them.
Havoc was his best marine friend at this point. They had been in the same unit together since the beginning while everyone else had either been killed or rotated out. They were the only two original team members left from the original earth landing, with the exception of Anya.
"Do you know what this assignment is about?" Stock asked Havoc.
"From the little I've heard and have been able to piece together, they want us to assist an ORSOC team retrieving a high-value target," Havoc replied.
"What the fuck does ORSOC stand for?" Stock asked. He had a feeling Anya was wondering the same thing. She usually kept quiet around the other marines, even Havoc, although she would occasionally speak to him, but Stock knew her well enough to know when she was curious about something.
"Orokin Special Operations Command," Havoc answered, "We're going to be helping some Special Forces guys. Apparently they have another tenno with them, a dude who can create ice."
"A frost," Anya informed them.
"Yeah, well anyway they wanted you along because the more the merrier I guess, and us along because you're most familiar with us two as opposed to the rest of the marines," Havoc said.
The logic was sound to Stock. They walked the rest of the way to the command building in silence. Upon arriving at the command building they went through a series of identity checks and filled out multiple disclosure forms stating that what they saw and heard in the briefing room was not to be repeated to anyone, under penalty of death. Which was pretty easy to do considering they had a top secret myth leaning against a wall looking bored. By the time they were ready to go Anya was visibly antsy, fidgeting with everything she had in reach.
When they got to the briefing room they were greeted by several ranking officers and executioners, along with a Special Forces unit who had a frost with them. The frost was an imposing figure, standing at well over six feet he was built like a brick wall. Stock and Havoc took their seats while Anya went to stand by the frost to one side of the room.
After several more introductions the field commander proceeded with the briefing, "Alright, most of you know why you're here. For those of you who don't, Corporal Woodstock, Sergeant Havoc, we have been plagued by IED's almost daily during this campaign. We've tracked them down to this facility on the southern continent. It's a simple one floor building. We believe a man by the name of Patrick Kennedy is the leader of this little bomb making operation, as he and his associates have been spotted several times in the area before and after a bomb went off. The unit will be split up into two teams, Team One is going to be led by Lieutenant Buckram, with Sergeant Hawthorne, Corporal Woodstock, and the frost tenno. Team two will be Sergeant Havoc, Corporal Hammers, and the nova tenno, with Petty Officer 2nd Class Mitchells as acting corpsman."
Stock glanced over at Anya resting against the wall, a statue as always, letting no emotion seep through. This would be the first time he didn't have her watching his back since landing on this planet.
"Team one will land right on top of the building at 0200 hours, as it's believed to be only lightly defended due to being so remote," the field commander continued, activating the holographic display table and bringing up a 3D render of the building itself. "Team two will land directly behind the building and prevent any escape through the back or side doors once the shooting has started. Study these images, make necessary preparations, and good luck boys. Dust off at zero thirty."
With that the commander briskly left the room and the lieutenant took over. He was a short man, with a face that looked like it had seen its fair share of battles. It was rough, but his eyes were what stood out the most to Stock, dark and beady, but very sharp. They reminded Stock of a hawk, always searching for the next prey, always observing everything, catching even the smallest movement.
"I'm going to keep this short and simple," the lieutenant said, "Pack light, this operation shouldn't last longer than an hour, two at the most. Leave behind any unneeded armor. Chest plates, helmets, and gloves are all you will need. Bring your rifle, a battle load of ammo, a side arm, battle load for that, and a close quarters weapon, a tomahawk or combat knife if you were issued one. Water is a must in my squad, Mitchells will have the medical supplies. Now, get the fuck out and get ready, your platoon knows your mission from me so you have the rest of today to rest up and ready up. Be at the landing strip by 2300, no later. If you are late, you get left behind, if you get left behind, it's a court martial for missing an assigned mission. Dismissed."
Stock studied the hologram for several more minutes as everyone else filed out. The building looked smaller than it should, rectangular, with a front and back door. Most likely built over the entrance to an underground bunker they were currently unaware of. Havoc nudged him, breaking him out of his thoughts, and they filed out behind everyone else and made their way back to their room with Anya.
Once in their room, Stock and Havoc immediately set to packing and rearranging their gear, while Anya took her usual place in the corner and went to polishing her sword.
"What's that?" she asked suddenly, pointing to a small bundle Stock had placed next to his armor.
"Oh, uh, it's something my dad made for me after I joined up," Stock said, "It's a homemade tomahawk."
He unwound the cloth from around it, revealing a small, hand-held weapon with a five-inch curved blade on one side and a large metal spike on the other, then after unsheathing it he passed it to Anya. She looked it over, tossed in the air and caught it a few times, then flicked her wrist and sent it flying to lodge in the wall blade first with a loud thwack.
"I like it," she decided, "It's well weighted, and nicely balanced. Especially for something homemade."
"Uh, thanks, I guess" Stock said as he retrieved the weapon, "Anyway, I was thinking I might bring it along, since most of this will be close quarters fighting. Might impress a female marine or two with these mad throwing skills I just learned."
With that he flung the tomahawk at the wall, where it bounced off and landed among his sprawled out belongings, while Havoc yelled at him to be more careful and Anya snickered at his failure to properly throw a hawk. After packing what they needed Stock stretched out in his spot near Anya, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before they shipped out.
Stock was awoken by the sounds of all the other marines flooding into the room. The sun was already starting to go down and Anya was nowhere in sight. After hunting around a bit he found her sitting on top of the roof watching the sun set and sat down next to her.
"You ready for this?" he asked.
"I guess, maybe," she said, "It shouldn't be too bad, right? A few people in there, what's the worst that could happen?"
"I don't know, they use crap weapons but they are also bomb makers," he reminded her, "I think something like this would be a perfect ambush. Lure a bunch of marines into a building, then boom, drop it on top of them." Stock was thoughtful for a moment, wondering if that was what would happen as he mentioned it.
"Well, that's why you'll have the frost with you, he can create a… bubble, of sorts, made out of ice," she explained, "I talked to him earlier, during the debriefing. He's a good tenno, he's been working with the Special Forces guys since before we got here and he said their leader is kind of like you, cares about everyone in his command, tenno or marine."
The sun started to sink below the horizon, then Stock heard a pop and a hiss. He looked over at Anya to see she'd removed her helmet, and he was once again struck by how beautiful she was. She briefly met his eyes before quickly turning away again. He thought she might have blushed too, but he was unsure. It was hard to tell with the way she glowed.
"I wanted to see the sunset with my own eyes. I've always either been in a metal room or had a visor separating me from the sunset, everything was always filtered, it never looked…" she trailed off. Her voice seemed softer somehow, now that it wasn't garbled by the electronics in her helmet. He liked it.
"Right?" he suggested.
"Yeah, it never looked right," she said, glancing at him again.
They continued to sit there in silence for a few more minutes while the sun sank and finally disappeared. Eventually Anya cocked her head to the side, then replaced her helmet. He found out why a few seconds later when Havoc came up and told them it was time to get their gear and head to the landing strip.
"Five minutes," the pilot's voice crackled over the radio.
The jet's cabin was painted a dark green, made darker by the dimness of the lights. Stock did what he always did, checked his weapon, rechecked it, then checked it again. Once he was satisfied his gear was good he gave the lieutenant the thumbs up signal, indicating he was good to go. He felt the jet give a sharp lurch, the G-forces throwing him against his seat.
"Missile inbound, brace for evasive maneuvers," the pilot said, his voice oddly calm for the statement he was making. A few seconds later Stock heard a series of thumping sounds against the hull of the plane, which the pilot followed up with, "IR flares deployed, they know we're coming boys! Drop zone will be fast and hot. Three minutes out!"
The G's continued to toss them around as the plane wove through the air, pitching left and right then finally settling into a steep descent. Eventually the craft leveled out and the cabin lights went red.
"Over target zone in ten seconds!" the pilot announced.
Stock unbuckled his seat harness and stood with team one. The frost tenno was at the front with what looked like a large mace strapped to his back and a rifle in his arms, with everyone else lined up behind him.
The jump master triggered the release on the rear hatch then shouted, "Go, go, go!" clapping each team member on the shoulder as they jumped. Stock had been expecting a fairly short fall, maybe three feet, or five at the most. What he got instead was a ten foot drop. When he hit the ground it sent a shock up through his body and he instinctively tucked his shoulder and rolled, dispersing the shock. Oddly, he thought he heard someone far off saying something, though he couldn't make out any words.
"He's rambling!" A frustrated growl.
"No… He's remembering, he's with him. Get Jack. I think this is him." A quiet, thoughtful voice.
Stock turned to watch for a split second as team two deployed on the other side of the perimeter, gun shots echoing across the compound as he returned his attention to his own unit, scrambling to take cover near a fallen wall. To his left was Hawthorne, laying down suppressing fire with his assault rifle. The men inside the building fired back at them through the only window in the front of the building, peppering the wall behind them with machine gun rounds. There was a pause a few minutes later telling Stock that the gunner was reloading, and he pitched a grenade through the window. He heard some yelling, followed by a loud whump. The front of the building exploded outward and part of the roof collapsed.
"What the fuck was that?!" Hawthorne asked Stock.
"I don't know, I just threw a grenade," Stock replied, "I guess they were dumb enough to store explosives in the same room their guards were standing watch in."
With that team one moved in through the improvised front door caused by Stock's grenade, finding themselves in a hallway with one door on the left, with another door a few feet farther down on the right. Everyone knew the door to the left was a no-go, whoever had been in there was dead. If they hadn't died from the grenade exploding, they'd been crushed under the collapsed roof.
The team positioned themselves in front of the door to the right, the tenno in front, Lieutenant Buckram behind him, Stock behind the lieutenant, with Hawthorne in front of the door ready to kick it in.
"Ready? Three, two—" before Hawthorne could get to one, the door exploded outward, vaporizing Hawthorne. Everyone else was thrown back and showered with what was left of the marine. Stock scrambled back to his feet and raced through the door behind the tenno and Lieutenant Buckram.
Still shell shocked from the blast, Stock saw everything in slow motion, noticed a man to his right attempting to shoot the frost. The frost noticed too and swung his mace, disintegrating the man from the chest up. Lieutenant Buckram had his sidearm out, taking out another combatant on the far side of the room before the man could shoot at them. Another door they hadn't noticed off to the right slammed open as a man with a light machine gun charged inside, intent on hosing down the whole room.
He leveled the gun at the frost but before he could open fire Stock shouted, "Look out!"
He didn't wait to see if anyone had paid any attention to him, he threw himself into the man, grabbing the barrel of the machine gun and pushing it up with his left hand and grabbing the man's throat with his right. The man fired off several bursts into the ceiling, nearly deafening Stock for a few seconds as both of them tried to gain control of the weapon.
Stock heard shouting behind him, but he couldn't make it out and he didn't have time to wonder about it. The two men tumbled to the ground with Stock landing on top, and he managed to knock the machine gun out of the other man's grasp, sending it skittering away across the floor. Unfortunately, Stock had lost his own rifle in the scuffle and the man he was desperately trying to subdue was attempting to draw Stock's own sidearm.
More shouting, what sounded like "You're hot!" This puzzled Stock for a second before he suddenly realized they were actually saying "Your hawk!" The man freed Stock's sidearm at the same time Stock pulled his tomahawk free of its sheath. The man pointed the sidearm at his head and Stock deflected the weapon away to his left while bringing the blade of the tomahawk down on the man's neck. The first strike severed the carotid artery and sprayed Stock with a shower of warm blood, and the gun went off three more times right next to his ear, making him even more deaf. He continued to hack away at the man until someone physically pulled him off and tossed him several feet away.
Stock came to his feet with the tomahawk still in his hand and preparing for another fight before he became aware of the lieutenant standing there with his hands up in a calming motion.
"Calm down, son, you got him. He's dead, he's not going to get you," he said, then he laughed as he looked at the body on the floor, "Hell, I think you just beheaded him! Hey, Boreas, are you alright? That was some fine batting you did back there." The tenno was kneeling by the man Stock had been fighting and he gave them a thumbs up then nodded to Stock.
Stock looked around the room and noticed that none of the remaining insurgents looked like Patrick Kennedy. If the man was in this room, he was dead.
They cleared the rest of the building fairly quickly before heading out the back and seeing team two surrounding a man on his knees with his hands behind his head. There was a blast crater a few feet away that contained several sizeable chunks of meat.
"Is this our man?" Lieutenant Buckram asked Havoc.
"No, sir, that's him over there," he pointed to the crater, "Blew himself up trying to take out Mitchells, but we managed to get away before his bomb went off. This guy seems to be his second in command."
"Fuck!" the lieutenant grumbled, "Alright, I'll get on the horn with command and get us an evac out of here."
Stock walked away and sat down on a log, still slightly dazed after what had happened. They had somehow only lost one man during the whole operation. The method though… Fucking traps. He heard someone walk over and stand beside him. He didn't have to look up to know it was Anya.
"You're bleeding," she said suddenly, dropping to one knee and taking his chin in her hand, turning him to face her. He pulled away and wiped his face. His hands came away red. He couldn't remember getting shot or cut. Then it dawned on him.
"Oh, it's uh… it's not mine," he said.
He didn't want to elaborate and say that it was partly Hawthorne's remains all over him and partly the blood from the man he'd beheaded. Anya pulled back a little and let go of him once she realized that the blood covering Stock from head to foot wasn't his own.
He glanced at Anya and noticed she was also covered with blood. Before he could stop himself he said, "Looks like you're bleeding too."
She looked down, then chuckled as she replied, "Yeah, like you, it's not mine. It's what's left of Patrick Kennedy."
As their transport craft arrived and hovered over the place the lieutenant pulled Stock aside and said, "Hey, son, that was some fine work you did back there. We could really use someone like you in the Special Forces. Ever thought about putting in a package? The emperor knows we'll need it, especially since they're pulling out all you marines and leaving the tenno and us S.F. guys to fight some new threat."
The news nearly knocked the wind out of Stock, but he tried to maintain his composure and replied with, "I never really thought about it. You think they'd accept me into the training pipeline?"
"Tell you what, you put in your paperwork for Special Forces and put me down as a reference," Lieutenant Buckram said, "I'll vouch for you."
With that Buckram turned his attention to the intelligence officers just arriving and went with them to assess the damage and see how much information they could pull from the wreckage of the building. Stock walked back to Anya and sat down beside her, thinking for a moment before speaking.
"They're pulling the marines out," he told her, "I'm not sure how much time I have left, so I want you to have something." He unclasped the bracelet he always wore that carried his family's crest. A leftover from a time when they hadn't been disgraced.
"Stock… I-I can't," she whispered.
"Please? I'll do everything I can to get back to fighting at your side, but if I can't, when this is over, come find me?" he asked.
She was silent for a few moments before opening her satchel and pulling out what looked like a homemade charm. "I was going to give this to you, I wasn't sure when, but I guess now is better than never. To remember me by I guess…" she said softly as she handed it to him.
It looked like a flower or a snowflake. It was formed from a large circle, with six smaller circles attached around it by thin wires. Upon closer inspection he realized it was formed from gold wire filaments.
"It's from the gold left over from the creation of my warframe," she explained, "I'm not sure if I will ever see you again, or if I can find you after this is over, but keep it. If there is any kind of higher power out there, then… maybe we will meet again."
He was saying something else, but he couldn't hear himself. Instead he heard the hum of machinery, and then felt what seemed like a bolt of lightning coursing through him. Anya warped and cascaded in upon herself as their surroundings were sucked away.
He woke back in the room, still strapped into the torture device, but this time he was facing his interrogators. He was exhausted and cried out from the pain. When the shock finally stopped, he was still sobbing quietly. They had taken him away from a painful, but happy memory, one with someone he now realized he cared for deeply. He heard the woman speak.
"Bring him in."
He had no idea what she was saying. Glancing up, he soon realized who his torturers were. Tenno. Two tenno, to be specific. One was an older woman with short, grey hair. She had her helmet off but he could see from her armor that she was an ember. To her left was a man clad in loki class armor, standing at a control panel. So this was his tormenter. He rolled all the collected liquid in his mouth into a ball and launched it straight at the loki, and was met with another explosion of pain all over his body. His vision blurred. When the pain stopped, he slumped, too weak by now to hold himself straight. He heard a hiss, then a click, a door he thought. Then footsteps, until they came to stop directly in front of him and he was looking at a pair of booted feet.
"I think you two may know each other, Jack. Is this the one who was with Anya?"
Stock heard the woman speak, heard her say Anya's name, then he heard a deep voice ask, "Do you recognize me, marine?"
He forced himself to look, and found himself staring at a frost. Unfortunately, he looked like every other frost Stock had seen. "S-sorry, man," he managed, "I have seen a lot of frosts in my life time. Excuse me." He spat blood again, this time taking care not to launch it in the direction of the frost, instead directing it to the floor at his side.
"Planet earth," the frost said, "You, the tenno known as Anya, and myself, along with a battle unit of Special Forces marines took part in a raid. If you are who you say you are, say my name and this torture will end."
Stock thought for a moment, wondering if this was a trap, wondering if maybe they were just trying to trick him only to shock him again. Fuck it, he thought. His mind was fuzzy, his body in pain, everything going quiet as his vision started to tunnel. If he was going to die, he decided he might as well die honest.
"Your name… Boreas. I saved your life in that raid. A gunman… he ran through the door, intent on killing everyone in the room, starting with you." Stock collapsed. He heard the frost saying something in the tenno language.
"It's him."
"Are you sure?" It was the woman.
"Even though he looks like he's been through hell, I still recognize him. What he says is true."
"So be it. Get the guards in here and have them put him in a cell."
Stock's vision started blacking out. He was vaguely aware of a long hallway, being dragged between two men, an elevator, a shorter hallway, then a door to a small room and being thrown into that room. He briefly came to and dragged himself over to the wall in hopes that the cold might ease his sore muscles. More blackness. The next time he was semi-conscious he felt more than saw someone kneeling over him, felt them rubbing something onto his skin, felt them wrapping his body where the restraints had held him. Then he blacked out again.