"Duck."

Maroo had only registered it was Xarra who said that when the ground erupted with dozens of tentacles. She dropped, splashing in the water that appeared as cries and choked breaths stuffed the air. Gunfire pierced the storm, quick splashes signaling the last efforts of the soldiers were failing.

Something resembling silence descended on the room.

Maroo sighed, jumping to her feet, "what would I do without your—"

"Maroo!"

Xarra leaped as a soldier missing a leg grabbed his rifle and squeezed the trigger. Maroo reached for her pistol, tensing for impact but nothing came, except the shadow of greys and blacks that flooded her vision. Xarra's shield flashed incessantly, shattering to crimson and earning a grunt of pain. Maroo whipped to the side, unloading a dozen shots before she realized the soldier was dead.

She let out a laugh disguised as a sigh, "I had my shield you know. It wasn't that dire."

"Oh… right. I thought—"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, tin suit. Mor, you okay?"

The Cephalon stood. "Only if we get to blow that bastard up!"

"Such a shame," Hek's voice blared through the cabin's intercom. "I won't be able to capture you personally! My Queens would like that privilege, and I am happy to oblige!

"Don't try to pull anything! I have the… 'Orokin Blood', and this time, we'll make sure there are no leaks. Not that it'll matter to you. Just sit tight, and embrace the honor of the Queen's… 'presence'." Hek roared with laughter, reverberating menacingly as if to prove his absolute victory.

"Well," Mor said, asking what already bogged Maroo's mind. "What do we do?"

Five Hundred Plat is enough, Maroo told herself. That could last me a bit. I could find some other jobs in the meantime. Get back on my feet. Mor and Xarra weren't interested in the money anyway, and I'd bet Newborn wouldn't do anything either—probably just an informant. Unaffiliated.

I don't quite feel like dealing with the Grineer Queens today, or ever. It was a triumph to make it this far, but I think this is as far as I go. Five hundred Platinum is good enough. I'm not risking my life for more, she told herself again.

And, surprisingly, she didn't believe a word of it.

Maroo had breathed on the Orokin Blood. Her ten thousand Platinum. And she didn't take it. Hek's ship wouldn't be too far, especially with her Swallow, an insane Cephalon with an addiction to explosives, and a Tenno who wanted to see the Grineer fall. She didn't want to think about the logistics, about the plan, about the potential of facing the Grineer Queens. So, she didn't.

"We're getting our damn Blood." She said, tapping her embedded beacon. A quick vibration meant the ship was coming. "I say muck to whatever Hek is going to do about it, I want my money."

The other two nodded in unison. By the time they made it to the latch of the empty compartment, their ride was waiting, and in a breath were in the cockpit, locking onto the Grineer transporter.

"You sure we can catch it?" Xarra asked.

"I can add—" Mor started.

"It can catch a Liset, it'll be fine. Especially without Mor's 'boosters'."

The Grineer ship popped in and out of visual, weaving through the asteroids with unnatural grace. Every chance she thought she could close the gap with a burst of speed, the sea of rocks got in the way. She cursed to herself, swooping in and out of openings, but stopping at blocked paths equally often.

"We're losing him!" Xarra said.

"You think I don't know that!" Maroo snapped. Just need a straight shot…

The field was chaotic. Of all the things she lacked experience on, it was flying through the asteroid belt. Something that the Grineer seemed awfully adept at. The transporter still slipped through, as if seeing a path no one else could, shrinking in size.

"Muck it," Maroo pulled as hard as she could, making her Swallow whine as if yanked upward. Smaller asteroids, sparser. It was good enough.

"Hold onto something," Maroo said. "And I'm sorry, Swallow."

The thrusters roared with ferocity, jetting toward their prize and earning several thunderous crashes. Her ship still moved. She could repair it later—at the very least, she steered away from the boulder-sized ones. Their target was getting closer. Much closer.

"Alright," Maroo sighed. "Xarra, I'm sending you out to—"

Everything darkened. The entire field was cast in shadow, something blotting out the sun. Like a Fomorian, Galleon, and asteroid had melted into each other, the amalgamation loomed over everything like a God, a ruler wondering who dare disturb her territory.

The Grineer Queens had arrived.

"By the Void," Xarra muttered.

"Dammit," Maroo grunted, checking her scanner. They were gaining on the ship, only a few hundred meters away, but the transporter was half a kilometer from safety. "We're sticking to it!"

She pressed the throttle, slamming her into her seat and causing Mor and Xarra to lurch. More ominous thuds, but Maroo ignored them. Her eyes darted to the holo-screen as much as she dared. 400 meters… 300 meters…

Like insects defending the nest, ships burst from the Queen's fortress.

"Voiddin' hell," Maroo grunted. She was getting closer. She'd make it before they did. But their plan—hop in and get out—wouldn't work. Now she'd have to incapacitate it somehow, without destroying the Blood in the process, keep it long enough to grab one, and get out.

Gunfire came sooner than expected, the fighters were unloading in her direction to scare her off. Maroo focused on her target, but now had to avoid both larger asteroids and the random barrages. The transporter was almost to safety.

"Xarra!" Maroo blurted. "Put your monster on the closest asteroid you can to the target. It can survive in space, right?"

"Well, yes it can but I don't know if it's a good—"

"Mor, got any focused explosives? Ones that can be remote controlled?"

"Mhm! Mhm!"

"On my mark," Maroo said. She couldn't focus enough on the conversation to explain further. "Be ready."

No questions came. That either meant they were on the same page, or they'd be going to the same execution. Probably both.

"Now." She said.

She could only imagine the sounds of splashing and the Kraken's roar as it materialized on a distant asteroid. The long, slimy tendrils whipped around, desperately reaching for the oncoming ship to no avail.

"Mor," Maroo said. "Need those focus blasts. Give that thing what it wants."

Nothing.

"Mor."

Maroo turned to see the Cephalon shaking. "Only service…" She muttered under her breath. "Only service… no death… only service…"

"Not now, dammit!" Maroo burst. "Come on!" The transporter was keeping course, moving closer. Their window shrinking. "Mor!" She reached, grabbing the Cephalon's mechanical body. "Uh… don't blow it up! Don't use explosives!"

"Only service. I shall serve. That is my purpose…"

The fighters were growing in size. Xarra didn't know what to do. Neither did Maroo.

"I brought you on for this Mor! Wake up!" Maroo screamed. "I know you're in there somewhere!"

The Kraken and its asteroid were drifting away. The ship cruised, unperturbed, passing the beast.

"Mor, I need you!"

The Cephalon's head flashed, image fuzzing before snapping to a crisp image. "R-Right! I'm on it!"

Maroo had never seen Mor move so fast, creating a cacophony of metallic clattering. Maroo was back in the cockpit seat when impish missiles streaked across her view, precisely hitting its target, propelling the Kraken toward the transporter. It found itself mysteriously flying towards its prey, eagerly snapping the tendrils and ensnaring the poor vessel.

Maroo flicked several switches, zipping to the scene and making Xarra snag the co-pilot's seat. "Kraken has got twenty seconds." Xarra said.

"Watch out for those fighters," Maroo stood. The Swallow slammed to a halt.

"What?" Xarra said. "What are you doing?"

"The job. Someone's got to get it, tin suit."

She bolted to the drop bay, slipping into one empty storage room and swiping the Rezzer from a shelf. Mor crouched in a gunner port, watching their plan unfold.

"Maroo! I don't know what you did but—"

"Do you have micro-thrusters? On you?"

"Yeah."

"Gimme."

The Cephalon didn't ask questions. The shell-sized jets pinched her all over the back of her body, but it'd give her the maneuverability to get to her Blood. Maroo could only spare a quick nod before getting sucked into the vacuum of space, seeing that the situation hadn't changed, but only hearing a numb silence.

Her suit guided her to the transporter, now with gas leaking out of punctures and tears as the Kraken wrestled it still. Maroo slipped in, the artificial gravity still functional, yet the guards posted scrambled with their breathing systems, earning a shot in the head for each. She watched the opposite door, pressing the Rezzer to a container as it digitized the physical object and transported it to her Swallow.

"Maroo," Mor said into her comm. "We got it. Get back here."

"I'm coming."

Vibrations traveled through her feet, giving her the faint indication someone was screaming. She kicked off another container, boosting to her entrance when the cockpit door opened, revealing Vey Hek shaking in fury.

Maroo could almost hear the "Nooooo!", and savored the acoustic imagery, giving the Grineer Councilor a salute before slipping into open space.

A cannon shot streaked by her head.

The fighters were in combat range, focusing on their fleshy target as she emerged. Maroo pushed the thrusters to full throttle, only earning a measly boost in speed and a glowing outline of her back. Even the Grineer's crude targeting systems could calculate her trajectory with how sluggish she could move. The micro-thrusters weren't built for person-to-ship combat.

Another shot whipped by. Now they were playing with her. Trying to breach her suit.

"Xarra, Mor, help me out?" She asked, trying—and failing—to hide her panic.

"I'll try to get over there!" Xarra said. "My Cephalon usually—"

"You're Voiddin' useless!" Mor said. "Both of you!"

Maroo tensed at a sudden change in velocity, her neck stinging from the pain. Gunfire blazed ahead. The gunners would not let her get away. A trail of neon purple smoke blew into her vision, slamming into one Grineer fighter and exploding, then imploding in vibrant hues, sucking the other ships in. Maroo felt a relieved laugh escape her, smiling at the mini supernova of color where her enemies had been.

The Cephalon pulled her aboard her Swallow, "Oh, good. I didn't snap your neck."

Maroo put in a code on her suit, setting the autopilot to flee to pre-programmed coordinates. The metal vibrated, tensing under the abrupt launch as its modified engines zipped far from the Queen's grip.

"It's here?" Maroo jumped to her feet, rubbing her nape. "It didn't glitch out or anything?"

Xarra gestured, leading her to one of her empty rooms, that was now a little less empty. The canister, with its morphing reds, stood in the corner.

She had done it. She was going to—as long as she made Newborn hold his word—get her Platinum.

Her Ten thousand Platinum.


Maroo, Xarra, and Mor, stood in a derelict Ceres outpost, overrun by gaunt plants and sewage. Xarra's Warframe would filter the stench, and Mor didn't have a nose, which meant only Maroo would suffer through the pungent smell.

"It can't be that bad," Mor shrugged. "I've seen you tough out harder things Maroo!"

"That's because I had to!" She gagged. "Void it, I'm sealing my suit. We're talking through comms."

"How are you feeling, Mor?" The Tenno asked, arms crossed.

"What, every time you're bored you're going to ask me how I'm doing? Ah, whatever. I feel great!" The Cephalon jumped. "I feel… so much freer. So much more in control."

"You sound like it too."

"Yeah," Maroo said. "This many cohesive sentences? It's a record."

"Oh, shut it. I could still blow up this whole facility if I really wanted to. Which, for the record, I do."

"Baby-man wouldn't like that, and so neither would I."

The three glanced at the room again—nothing seemed odd about wanting to meet Newborn in a remote place, but it was odd finding their chosen meeting room to house a high-grade Rezzer in the midst of the ruin. He must have put it there before they arrived. Not a speck of grime was on it.

"My apologies," Newborn said through an intercom somewhere. "I had matters to attend to. Now, you have what I need?"

"I do." Maroo stood tall, facing down the faceless voice. "But do you have what I need?"

"The Ten Thousand Platinum. Of course I do. I am one of good word."

"Good word won't get me what I need on the markets."

"Hmph. A pity, truly."

The Rezzer flashed, filling itself with gleaming metal. Maroo approached, snatching a random one and studying it. Authentic. Then another. Authentic as well.

"Going to check all of them?" Newborn said. "Still you have no trust?"

"Those that have trust in my line of work died a long time ago," Maroo scrutinized another. After the tenth one, her doubts were satiated.

"Help me get it off of here," she called to the others. The three pushed the Platinum, spilling it onto the ground around them.

"I shall give you the other stacks of it, as soon as I have what I need."

"Fine," Maroo sighed, sticking her arm into the glowing area of the Rezzer. She activated her own, materializing the data on her ship into her hand; a vial of Orokin Blood.

"Good." Newborn said, the Rezzer flashing, bringing his prize to him. "The Platinum is yours, Maroo. Until we meet again."

The speaker clicked. The machine whined, reaching a fevered squeal before a blinding surge forced Maroo to hide her visor.

Platinum overran the room. A giddiness bubbled into her mind, looking at all the pristine and shiny currency.

"Alright," Maroo kept her tone stern. "Xarra, let's get your cut."

"What about mine?" Mor said.

"Your cut? You don't get a cut."

"Why not?"

"You didn't agree to one."

"I saved your life!"

"She can have half of mine," Xarra said, shaking a small red vial in his hand. "I have what I need anyway."

"Yeah, sure." Maroo said. "'No shields off my back.' Be thankful, Mor. You'd have got nothing."

"That's not fair! We would have failed without me! You said it yourself back there! You needed me!"

Maroo winced. "Yeah, heat of the moment. Sorry, Mor."

"No! You're lying!" Mor pointed, head deepening in hue. "I'm going to blow your ship up!"

"Whoa, hey, you wouldn't—"

"Really? I wouldn't? I bet that thing would look beautiful as it was swallowed by an Imploser!"

"Alright! Alright! Fifty."

"No!"

"Remember, Five hundred and fifty." Xarra said. "Your fault for not asking for a cut up front. Rookie mistake."

"I'll blow you up too, Tin suit!"

"Oh! Stealing my phrase now?" Maroo asked. "That'll cost you!"

"Your selfishness will cost you! It'll cost your damn ship!"

"Fine, one hundred. But that's as high as I'm going."

"No! One thousand! That's what Xarra got!"

The three—despite having their prize—argued until dusk as they collected the scattered currency.