nexus_crossings | Night Patrol

Night Patrol

It’s always hard to tell where Nexus time will fall relative to her own world, and it gets even more complicated with the planet-hopping nature of a Guardian’s job. This time it’s the small hours of the morning back home, but Blaze finds they’ve popped out in the early evening, Nexus-time. ‘They’ being just herself and her Ghost, one six-foot-plus robot soldier in plate armor and her palm-sized companion, his shell an array of silver points that flex and spin as he floats alongside her.

Ghost is projecting a map of the central Nexus in front of him as they walk. If one watches closely, the little boundaries and markers shift slightly, every so often. They have a lot of ~~errands~~ duties to get through, so it’s possible to run into them almost anywhere. Hunting for parts in an all-night tech market, or collecting a takeout order from one of the many places serving ‘Nexus fusion’ dishes. Sorting supplies around a park bench in the moonlight, or heading into the woods along one of the less popular walking trails.

They talk to each other now and then, one loud and one barely a murmur; it’s mostly about the work, but now and then it slips into more serious discussion. Eventually, Blaze exhales a simulated sigh of frustration and asks, perhaps rhetorically, perhaps directed at the nearest innocent bystander:

“How would you help someone figure out how to be their own person?”

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Alas, sometimes the attempt to make things Not Awkward backfires quite effectively. Though lacking any knowledge of the person she's speaking to, Blaze remains oblivious for now.

"Yes," she says promptly, then corrects herself. "One of them does. I guess he hasn't had a lot of time to go see them lately, outside of training. But he likes drawing, painting. That kind of stuff. I'm a bit less worried about him that way. The other one... still kinda needs convincing she's allowed to do stuff just because she wants to. Not because I'm telling her to."

Beat. "And if you think that conversation can get incredibly damned circular, you've got no idea."

Their face can't frown, and the stillness of their body gives little away, their palms resting against their thighs. They consider that in silence for a moment.

One of this stranger's charges having something of a life is good. Hobbies are a fine start, and having friends - hopefully outside of whatever 'cause' she means - definitely helps. The other, though?

"Maybe you should treat it as a mission," they speculate, their voice slow with thought. "Tell her to go out and try something new every week, all on her own. Figure out if she thought it was fun."

Steve at least, she trusts is more than capable of making friends and deciding his own path - once he's out in the big wide world a bit more and not passing out trying to keep up with his inorganic compatriots. Nike is... perfectly charming, as far as Blaze is concerned, and there's no reason she couldn't make friends... if only she understood that's what they were.

"...Hmm." That's really not a bad idea. Blaze nods slowly as she thinks it over. "Yeah... we could call it a research mission."

"You could tell her you need her insight on non-mission related activities," Ghost suggests quietly.

Their attention snaps to Ghost when he speaks, an abrupt turn of the head, focusing in on the little floating bot. "You talk," they say, surprise clear in their voice. "Are you a cephalon? I've never seen one with a physical form."

Now there's a thought...

"I haven't heard that term before. I'm a Ghost, a kind of inorganic life form. My purpose is to guide and assist my Guardian."

"That's me," Blaze pipes up cheerfully, raising a hand. Ghost glances at her, but she just nods at him, clearly encouraging him to go on chatting.

"Er... what is a cephalon? Some kind of AI?"

A ghost. Not the sort that they know. They file that information away, peering closely at the little bot, watching how he bobs and his panels spin as he speaks. It's so expressive, and they're mildly captivated by it.

"They're digitized life-forms," they say, even as they get to their feet, slowly approaching the pair. "Uploaded consciousnesses given purposes to fulfill. Gathering data, researching, piloting ships."

They stop a few paces away, and place an open palm against the opposite fist, bowing slightly over their hands. "Can I look at you? Up close, I mean."

This is not exactly helping Blaze solve her problem, but their curiosity is open and unrestrained, inquisitive like a child just encountering something brand new and wondrous.

Blaze keeps an eye on the stranger, noting how much taller they are than they seemed while sitting. But she stays relaxed, keeping watch out of habit rather than wariness. She does however, share a startled look with her Ghost when they explain further about cephalons. Uploaded?

The stranger's curiosity is charming, though. The more so because they're respectful of Ghost, which always scores serious points with Blaze. Ghost shifts his points in surprise, then dips as if nodding.

"Okay. Just as long as you don't mind me looking at you, too," he adds, a little slyly. "We haven't met anyone who looks like you before, either."

They hesitate for a moment, but give him a nod after a moment's thought. "Of course."

They offer up their hands, not quite cupped together, a little platform he can hover over while they look at him, not touching. That eyeless face peers at Ghost curiously, tilting their head this way and that. His design is so unique - neither Orokin nor Corpus, but masterfully crafted such that they can't see any signs of seams or screws. "You're very well-made," they compliment him, and the tilt of their head suggests a glance toward Blaze. "Did you create him?"

For their part, Ghost's sensors are going to receive some very interesting data indeed. Up close they continue to move as a living creature would - idle nuanced motions, rising and falling of the chest, that sort of thing - and while scans that penetrate the exterior would support this, their skin is some kind of high-tensile alloy, bending and flexing like skin but with the unmistakeable hardness and sheen of metal. The gold ornamentation on their body is grafted on seamlessly, as are the embedded blue lights, as much a part of their body as their hands or feet. It's as though someone tried creating an Exo by transmuting an entire person into a synthetic lifeform, body and all.

The faint blue light of Ghost's own sensors sweeps over them, curiously probing in turn. Artificial material, but structured more like an organic body than an assembled construct... Given all the points of comparision he has from their own universe, that's both intriguing and unnerving. It won't stop him doing a little spin at the compliment.

"Thank you. Your own... um, construction is very interesting as well. I've never seen anything like it."

Blaze has been watching them closely, but she lifts her hands and shakes her head when the stranger queries her. "Not me. All Ghosts were created by the Traveler. It's... a big friendly space entity, I guess you could say. An ally of humanity."

She leans forward, elbows on her knees. "So... those cephalons. When you say they're uploaded, you mean they were organic once?"

Construction... that is one word for it, and a nicer one than it deserves. But they simply dip their head a little, pushing down that uncomfortable knot in their chest. "I'm not surprised. I haven't seen any other warframes here before." Is it possible? Of course. Eternalism demands it, even. But good luck finding them if you try.

Again without touching him, they gesture a gentle push to Ghost as if lifting him aloft, a silent motion indicating that he's no longer bound to their curiosity, and drop their hands to their sides. They can't quite hide a surprised recoil to the idea of a friendly space entity, a twitch of the fingers that find no reassuring weight of a weapon in them, the jerk of their head toward Blaze. "...the Traveler," they repeat, committing that to memory. Just in case. "So it's your... parent?" they ask, directing the question to Ghost.

They nod at Blaze's question in return. "They used to be people, before their minds were put into computers. Not that they aren't still people, it's just... different."

Ghost lifts away at their little prompt, points fluttering as he backs up, still watching them curiously. "Yes, like a parent. Although creating us was the last thing it did before going dormant centuries ago, so it's never spoken to us directly. We just know it wanted us to find our Guardians - our partners. To help them in their mission."

Ghost, at least, is keeping in mind that little uneasy recoil, wondering if their new acquaintance recognizes something about the Traveler in their description. Blaze is... distracted by other concerns, nodding along with Ayatan's explanation.

"Yeah. It'd have to be. And are they... all right? Afterwards. Even if they're put into a ship or something that's nothing like their old body?"

"It just threw you out in the world and went to sleep?" They're still not sure what to make of this Traveler entity, but being shoved out into the vast universe and told to figure it out is... well, it doesn't sit easily with them, and they can't help but feel a tug of sympathy for the little guy. That hits a little too close to home. What would they have done without Margulis? Or the Lotus? What will they do without the Lotus, now that she's... gone?

Cephalons are a more emotionally distant topic, something still close to their heart, but not nearly as fraught. They hesitate, which in itself is something the pair will pick up on as significant. "Most of them," they decide eventually, tilting their head up to give the impression of eye contact, despite the lack of the necessary features. "As much as they used to be anyway. My ship's cephalon, Ordis, he's a bit... glitchy." They glance aside at that, uncomfortable. "He was broken a long time ago, I don't remember when. His memories have some... holes."

They turn back toward the pair, quickly brushing past the discomfort of having to acknowledge Ordis's impairments. "I know some of them chose it as a kind of immortality. Cephalon Simaris was some kind of researcher, and he still is. He seems fine. Though he yells a lot. He's very... focused on his work."

"It didn't have much choice. It was terribly wounded, defending humanity in battle against a great enemy. It needed us to find those who could take up its power and fight in its stead." Ghost shifts in the air, glancing back at his partner for a moment. "...Although I'll admit it... wasn't the nicest way to be born. It wasn't a great time to come into the world."

Blaze leans forward a bit more, reaching out a hand to beckon him close so she can cup his shell and squeeze it gently. "I'm glad you did, though."

She looks up at their mysterious stranger again. "I'm sorry to hear about your Shipmind; I hope he's all right. Bots like me, Exos, we tend to get some memory issues too. That kind of stuff is... really rough. Just good to know most of the others are all right with what they are." Surprisingly so.

"Oh..." Well, that changes things. This wasn't an uncaring parent throwing its offspring into the Void, it was a desperate act to allow its children to live. Now they feel a little bad for thinking ill of it. "...I hope it gets better."

So she is a robot, not just a suit. Ayatan looks her over a little more closely, noting the distinct artificial construction that's gone into her making. Plates and servos, clearly crafted by a different hand than Ghost was. Human-made? Almost Corpus, but more... human. They look down at their own hands, more articulated and natural in design than the Exo's, but no less metal for it. "I don't remember everything either," they admit quietly, raising their head again. This time, they offer a hand for a handshake, the motion strange and half-remembered from ages past. "This frame is Excalibur Umbra." They hesitate a brief moment, summoning courage. "They call me Ayatan."

"Thank you. We believe it will, one day." A day that can't come fast enough, as far as they're concerned. Though maybe they should beware getting what they wish for.

At Ayatan's admission, Ghost's points prick up in surprise and Blaze's eyes seem to flare brighter as she blinks. They forestall the next question with their introduction, but Blaze is still peering at them with palpable curiosity as she rises to shake their hand slowly. If her antenna could spring straight, they would have.

"Blaze-37. And this is Ghost. Good to meet you, Ayatan. Though, uh... what do you mean by 'frame'?" It's not hard to guess that word has different connotations to back home, but given the discussion they've just been having... they really need to establish a common frame of reference, so to speak.

One day, he says. How long has their Traveler been sleeping? How long had Ayatan been sleeping before the Lotus woke them? They're still not entirely sure, and though they know nothing else about this mysterious space entity, there's a familiar enough chord there to empathize with. Maybe the world it awakes into will be as alien and strange as the one that met the Tenno.

And how odd that the more humanoid of the two has the more robot-like name. Their head tilts a fraction at that, also curious in turn. Is that a model number? Is she one of thirty-seven identical robots? Exo, she said... that's probably not short for Executive Officer, but it could be, they suppose.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Careful, that inner voice warns. Though the Nexus has yet to present them with anything they'd consider a threat, they can't take it for granted. But maybe partial truths, feel out potential allies, learn who else might be trusted. More than just the Quills and Vox Solaris. Ayatan straightens a little, and presses their hand flat against their chest. "This body is a warframe. There aren't many of us left, even where I'm from."

'This body.' Blaze is definitely shooting another look at Ghost to make sure he heard that too.

"You mean it's some sort of vessel for you? Like a proxy body?" Is Ayatan themself an AI? The thought makes her hesitate too, and her voice is a bit softer when she asks, "Are you a cephalon?"

"Don't worry if it's too complicated to explain right now," Ghost interjects, drifting forward a little bit so he can catch his Guardian's eye. She ought to know that sometimes people don't want to get into the ins and outs of their own existence with a near stranger. (Sometimes they can barely acknowledge the facts to themself.)

Edited 2023-07-21 19:53 (UTC)

Social subtlety is not one of the Tenno's strong points. How could it be? They freeze a moment, surprised that she's hit it so close to the bullseye already, a lifetime of conditioning and fear sending them into an inward spiral almost immediately. Did they mess up? Is the danger really as bad as Margulis told them, if people know the truth? Can this follow them back home to their enemies?

"I didn't say that," they say defensively, much like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar and crumbs on their face.

They're not expecting the flutter of amusement deep within, a smile despite the cautious way their inner voice is analyzing the others, watching them for signs of danger. Calm. Watch. Anticipate and react. Do not fight shadows. Inwardly they take a breath, that voice of reason rising up to corral those wild emotions before they can spiral out of control.

"I'm not a cephalon," they add, and that part rings true. "I'm a Tenno. We're warriors, protectors of humanity." Not always the case, but true enough now. And possibly an angle to deflect awkward questions before they know how the pair before them would take the truth. "What about you? What's an Exo? You're not the same as Ghost."

Uh oh. Ghost was trying to warn her she was being rude after all. Blaze manages to look a bit chagrined, even as she's puzzling over the mixed signals. Ayatan sounds real defensive all of a sudden, but they aren't some kind of human in a robot body - probably? At least they're clear about not being a cephalon. Anyway the mech they're talking too seems too skinny for an exosuit so...

But regardless, they're definite about being protectors of humanity, and that's the part that's important. Blaze is nodding slowly, and might even perk up a bit were it not for that follow-up question.

Way to turn the tables on her. It's the Exo's turn to hesitate, Ghost shooting her an ~~amused~~ unreadable look. He's always watching her at moments like this, monitoring to catch her responses. It's a good thing she's used to that, because she's awkward enough as it is.

"Well, we're machine soldiers, built by humans a long time ago. No-one alive really knows the details, because all of us have been wiped and reset a few times. I mean, some of us have theories. Little bits and fragments of memories. But the important thing is, aside from all the circuits and plating we're basically just another type of neohuman. Not like the Ghosts, you're right."

And the thing is, Blaze does know something more, or thinks she does. It just makes her wildly uncomfortable even as not admitting to it feels more and more uncomfortably like lying. At least Ayatan isn't another Exo, someone who might have a right to know for theirself. It's easy enough to tell herself it's an Exo matter, and nobody else's business.

Machine soldiers. Far more advanced than the Corpus can manage, or else why would they keep using moas? Ayatan's attention is firmly on her, their awkward panic subsiding as Blaze finds herself in the hot seat instead. Talk about memories has them subtly leaning forward in sympathy. "That's terrible, I'm sorry. There are some things you always wish you could forget, but... how else do we know who we are?"

"Oh." She rubs at one antenna. "Uh, thanks, but- it's all right. For me, anyway. The way I see it, I get a clean slate to figure out who I am for myself. I've got my Ghost to show me the way, and my brothers and sisters in arms, and a noble purpose to fight for. All our stories and traditions to look to. Didn't take me long to figure out who I wanted to be."

An unusual attitude, but... kind of inspiring. They can't smile, but there's a strange note of wistfulness in their voice when they murmur in response. "Dream... not of what you are, but of what you want to be."

They shake their head, as if shaking off a thought like water. "And... what is that? The same as your... friends?" She's found purpose, it only makes sense she'd seek out one for her companions too.

"Exactly!" she proclaims, pointing at them for a second as Ayatan hits on the thought with more clarity. Their followup question makes her chuckle, even as she nods.

"A Guardian. A a protector of humanity. Like my friends are, but... actually, ever since I was newly raised, I kinda wanted to be like a hero called Wei Ning. She was a Guardian too. A fearless warrior, one of the greatest who ever lived."

Protector of humanity. She's just like them, but made of metal and gears, not flesh and biosteel. Guardian, Tenno... the words are different but the role is the same, and their posture subtly straightens, twinges of an excitement born of loneliness igniting within. "Ours is a sacred duty. And your friends, they're Guardians too? How many of you are there?"

Blaze nods enthusiastically, glad to see Ayatan make that connection, too. Anyone who's fighting for the same cause is all right in her book.

"Hundreds. Maybe a few thousand, I'm not really sure of the numbers at any time. Some of us check in a lot more than others. I just know our numbers are small for what we're up against, but that's just why we've got to punch above our weight. How about you? Are there many of you Tenno?"

Night Patrol

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