Maroo: Orokin Blood

"Ten Thousand Platinum"

Maroo ducked under a laser.

The Corpus were too paranoid—well, rightfully so. She was here to steal their technology. But Void it all, she had reason to complain. The hoops she had to jump through, all for a side job... the system had become too uptight. All because of people like her.

The room purred with traps, cameras, and automated defense systems. And yet, Maroo waltzed through the Kubrowdon's jaws as if she were at one of Ki Teer's parties: A leap, a twirl, some pirouettes, and even a curtsey for extra flair. It helped that she had a small, thin frame--easy to move quickly, even easier to deceive others. Like all her equipment, her blue and black Aether-suit was custom-made, from her waist size down to the masked anti-personnel devices.

Of course, no amount of dancing would get the camera in the next corner to look aside. That's why she came prepared. Maroo twirled the thin disc in her hand, a smirk on her lips. Thieving was all a big game of Komi: except you know all the moves beforehand. With hardly a whistle, it zipped through the air, cutting into the wall and flashing red.

The camera's explosion was loud enough to please the ear, but not loud enough to alert anyone. After all, she had made sure no one was around the containment room. Playing fair never really suited me, she thought, casually walking across where the camera would have spotted her. Every part in proper place, every step calculated. It was how she survived--thieving and living comfortably. Well, as comfortable as a thief with bounties in every faction could live. Well worth the hassle, in her opinion.

All that remained was one locked door, holding what she needed. The whole reason she was here.

Her small fingers fiddled with the console on the wall, seducing it to open. With a sigh of submission, it opened to welcome her into the fortified holding area.

She stepped lightly as naturally as she breathed towards her prize, the prototype for a new Osprey. Maroo pressed a hand to it, feeling it condense into data. Now, the easy part, getting out—

A flash hit her mask's sensors, temporarily blinding her.

Alarms blared. Heavy, mechanical footfalls avalanched toward the room.

"Damn it!" she grunted, desperately trying to regain her senses. Scanners after retrieval now? What in the Void?

Her optical feed de-fuzzed, revealing half a dozen crewmen and Moas. Guns held steady, triggers expecting her blood.

"Alright, I'm coming," Maroo said, raising her hands. "No need for anything rough—"

She ducked, shooting nano-grenades out of her fingers.

The Corpus squad fell to the floor, overwhelmed by the electromagnetic pulses, unable to move. She smirked to herself as she ran,

And that is why I have those.

One mess up, one bad roll of chance, and her entire career was over. At best, killed on sight. At worst, crewmanized indefinitely. Not great options. So, she avoided all the risk she could. Have a backup plan. Have a backup-backup plan. Better yet, have someone do the heavy lifting for you. Riches couldn't be enjoyed if you were dead.

Metallic ringing. Dissonant. Approaching. More proxies were coming. The whole ship was on high alert, aiming to catch her before she could escape. But, even the Tenno don't do what she was about to.

She whipped her hand to the side of her helm, activating the mask to fully cover her face, locking into the rest of her suit. Her tools were where she needed them. Finally, she tapped the buzzing sensor on her arm. Just a little farther. Distant stars shined through the glass in the next room—