Blaze-37 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rekindledtitan) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2023-06-24 02:16 pm
rekindledtitan) wrote in nexus_crossings2023-06-24 02:16 pm
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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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?"
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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."
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"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.)
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"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."
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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
amusedunreadable 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.
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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.
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"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."
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"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?"
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"...I don't know. We were asleep for a long time, and people still remember stories about us, but... I think there's a few dozen left? I don't see them much anymore, except at the solar relays, sometimes."
They shake their head slowly. "There might be some hidden away, still sleeping. I don't know. There used to be thousands of us, but after the Old War... a lot of us died."
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She doesn't know. Nobody does, not even back home, save for a trusted few. She's trying to cheer them up, and they want to believe her, even though they know there won't be any new Tenno. There'd better not be.
But more in cryosleep... maybe. "The Lotus might have known more hiding places. If we can find her, maybe. She's... gone." Not dead. They're fairly confident of that. But the terrified, innocent soul that lives at their core is shaken by her absence, ripped away from them in an instant, leaving them alone. Abandoned.
They inhale, exhale, repeat. Striving for calm, reaching for that deep pool within. "The sacrifice was worth it," they say at last. "The other Tenno, I mean. We beat back the Sentients, and we toppled the Orokin Empire. The people in the Sol system can live their own lives because of that."