Chapter 3, written by my friend.
"Just look at it! It looks so fucking stupid! There is no way this isn't a robot."
Anya felt someone poke her helmet. She just sat there trying to hold back tears. These marines had been at this for the last five minutes. Questioning whether she was a human or a robot. She wanted to jump up and grab them by the neck so they couldn't get away and start poking them in the head to show them how it felt. It had been 48 hours since they landed, and by now they had already set up a makeshift base camp. The marine she'd rescued sat across from her, quietly cleaning his rifle. He was so calm and peaceful in comparison to the rest of these guys. How could he stand them? They were loud and obnoxious and rude and vulgar, always making jokes about their manhood.
"Well, shit, obviously the scientists weren't that smart if they made a humanoid robot," the first one said, "Fuck man, if I was to create a robot it would have like, eight legs, and machine gun turrets everywhere!"
"Simmons, you're not even smart enough to tie your own boot, you… you boot fuck," the second one retorted, "How do you expect to create a robot? What are you going to use? The silly string in your backpack?"
"Hey man, I'm just saying," Simmons protested, "If I was like smart and shit. That's how I would do it. Not this dumb piece of junk we're stuck with."
Simmons. That was his name. He was the one constantly poking her and humiliating her. She wanted to jump up and yell at him that there was someone under the armor. She wanted to use her brute strength to put her fist through his chest, she wanted to rip his throat—no, that wasn't right. Not the kind of mindset she needed to be in. She needed to calm her mind. Besides, she had been told she was to have as little interaction with these marines as possible. They didn't know how long this testing warframe would actually last.
Stock was cleaning his rifle. All that built up grime could cause it to malfunction. Two other marines were poking the tenno and arguing as to whether it was a robot or not. The leading opinion was that it was indeed a robot. Something new to help them. But why make it humanoid? He remembered hearing about studies suggesting people would be more relaxed around humanoid inanimate objects rather than ridiculous eight legged monstrosities like Simmons had suggested they build. Hell, if anything a contraption like that sounded terrifying, no moving thing, robot or otherwise, should ever have that many legs.
Although, Simmons was a bit of an idiot, there was no doubt about that. He was "That Guy." That one guy who every division has, that one guy who always manages to ruin everything for everyone else. Stock was sure he'd probably figure out a way to break the tenno too if he was allowed to continue.
Finally Stock spoke up, "I'm pretty sure it's not a robot. It's humanoid, and it thinks. Hell, I'm pretty sure it even has emotions. And essentially you two are antagonizing it. You might remember that it brought down a whole building full of insurgents yesterday. Do you two think that's a smart thing you are doing?"
"Awe, come on man, it's just in good fun. You're too smart to be a marine, you over analyze everything. Why did you join the marines anyway?"
Stock didn't answer and eventually Simmons and the other marine just laughed and walked off. Finally, peace and quiet. Stock didn't really mind any of the guys he served with, hell, he thought of them as brothers, but they were always so loud, like, all the time. And they could be a big pain in the ass.
Stock was in the process of fitting a small spring back into the assembly of his rifle, when it popped and escaped, flying in the tenno's direction. A series of events flashed through his mind, the spring hitting the tenno, the tenno getting enraged at the last straw, the tenno blowing up the whole planet.
Instead, the tenno just reached up and caught the spring before it hit. Then it held out its hand. Palm up, the spring inside, undamaged.
"Uh… thank… you? I think," he wasn't sure what else to say. He plucked the spring from the tenno's palm and went back to reassembling the rifle.
"So why did you join if you are too smart?"
He jumped at the voice. It was so soft and quiet he almost didn't hear it. He looked around, half expecting to see another marine, but there was nobody else around. He looked at the tenno and asked, "Was that you?"
The tenno nodded.
"Oh, huh… I guess I didn't have much of a choice," he told her, "It was either work in the factories or fight in the marines. Figured I'd see the universe before I died. Never really considered going into the other branches. But looking back I think should have."
There was silence for a few minutes. Then the tenno spoke again. "I'm Anya," she said quietly.
He looked up at her and smiled as he said, "Call me Stock."
"Stock… Odd name," she commented after testing it.
"Eh, well, you know, Woodstock is a bit awkward to say over and over," he shrugged.
"I'm amazed none of them have cracked a joke about… that… yet," she said, and Stock suspected she was making a face behind her helm.
"They already have, you just missed them all," he chuckled, "They're not so bad. Just a bit rough around the edges. They'll get used to you."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked softly.
"Shouldn't I be?" he asked, "I don't see a reason not to, you're human under there. You're just like me. So you have a few extra bits and pieces, I won't hold that against you."
"You're the only person to say something like that to me since they took us off the Zariman," she said, bowing her head.
Stock nodded, not really sure what else he should say. Some of the guys in the unit would have capitalized on this statement, but he had a feeling that he was the first person in some time she had willingly spoken to and he didn't want to push her away or upset her. If anyone had asked he would have just said he was trying to avoid any unnecessary outbursts, but he had to admit, at least to himself, that it was good to talk to a girl who really was more or less just a girl rather than a marine. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, filed it away under the list of things he wasn't supposed to think, then looked back at her.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked.
"It's just nice, you know?" she said, raising her head to face him, "I mean, most people won't even look at me, or if they do it's obvious they're either scared to death or they hate me, sometimes both. It's just nice to know not everyone feels that way."
"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm no saint," he snorted, "I didn't know what to think when they first assigned you here, I was as nervous as anyone else."
"Yeah, but you didn't just completely write me off without a thought either," she shrugged, "That counts for something, right?"
"Guess I have to give you that one," he chuckled.