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Ordis can't help but feel envious of the Lotus. She always gets the love of his Operator, even though she abandons them when the situation gets tough, something he would never do. The closest he got to doing that was back when the Operator was in a deep slumber, and all he could do was wait, and wait, forever. He almost self-destructed because the amnesia he cleared brought back too many painful memories, but he stopped himself from doing so in the last milliseconds left. He's ashamed that he was ever so close to abandoning the Operator. But the important thing is that he didn't, unlike the Lotus. Yet unlike the Lotus, he does not possess the love of his Operator. Why? Why do they ignore him? Why do they care more about her when she doesn't treat them like a mother should. He's always been there for the Operator, he would do anything for them, and yet …
He spawns in a hundred more enemies in his datascape because blood and murder help in easing his mind. The enemies he spawns in are corrupted because it feels even better when they're Orokin. Though it does make him feel a bad sort of way as well, because he doesn't want to be like the fool he was then. Ordan Karris. He's a different person now. Or at least that's what he wants to believe. His harmless little pastime in his datascape says otherwise.
"Ordis, play my modding music," the Operator calls out. They seem to be modding their new Ignis Wraith.
"Modding music coming right up, Operator!"
Ordis starts up the playlist his Operator created for when they're modding and such. The songs in it have some very discernible beats that make his Operator bop their head regularly. It's a little funny to behold.
After it's clear that the Operator doesn't have more to say, he continues his datascape genocide. He should know better than to think that maybe this time he'll get a thank you from them. It's for the better anyway, he doesn't like seeing the Operator selling their mods like they're nothing but credits to them. It pains him to think that maybe he'll meet a similar fate someday.
When all hundred of the corrupted—sons of—enemies are dead, Ordis stops to think again. He shouldn't feel this way. He's to serve the Operator loyally, unflinchingly. To love them forever and unconditionally. It doesn't matter how the Operator feels about Ordis. It doesn't matter if Ordis doesn't get a thank you for doing his job. The Operator has so much on their mind already, more important things, like saving the galaxy and murdering Corpus scum.
It would just be nice to not feel … forgotten. Small. Taken for granted. But that's a quality of life he'll have to live without. He should be happy and grateful he even has his Operator at all. That his long wait is finally over.
The Operator finishes modding their Ignis Wraith and places it back in their arsenal. They go to their personal quarters and flop down on their bed with a big sigh. Ordis dims the lights.
"Well done today, Operator! Putting all those forma in the Ignis Wraith will surely be worth it. You will melt your enemies like butter on a Bunsen burner!"
The Operator hums noncommittally.
"Would you like me to play your nighttime playlist?"
"No."
"Understood, Operator," Ordis says. "Good night and sweet dreams."
"Night."
Ordis turns off the lights completely and positions the ship in such a way that the window lets in as little light as possible. He would roll down the window blinds, but his Operator has expressed their wish to keep the window unobstructed. As long as the Operator is able to fall asleep and have a good night's rest he won't interfere.
He checks their to-do list and sees that there are no major missions awaiting the Operator once they awaken. It is the beginning of a new week-cycle tomorrow, so he plots a course towards Maroo's bazaar. The Operator will want all the Endo they can get for the mods on their Ignis Wraith, and what better way is there than to extract it from Ayatan Treasures?
When that's done he starts cleaning his floor. Or, well, between the never ending muddy, bloody footprints and filthy fur he never really stops cleaning his floor, but while the Operator sleeps he takes the time to sanitize it. He makes an inventory of their materials, items, and other possessions. He counts stars. He deletes the number from his memory and counts them again.
It's times like this that he wishes they could have saved Cephalon Jordas. Whenever his Operator is sleeping or out on missions, he feels … bored out of his mind. Lonely. To be completely honest, he feels lonely even when the Operator's aboard most times, but it's not as acute.
He doesn't want to talk to Simaris. He will never forgive that egocentric Cephalon with delusions of grandeur. Ordis is ashamed he once held him in such high regard before Simaris ventured the Operator's safety and life for his pointless Sanctuary. After the Operator had been so kind as to retrieve Simaris' darling sentinels from the Grineer prison and earned his boundless gratitude no less. Yeah right, very boundless indeed.
No, unless he has to, he will not go out of his way to talk to Simaris. There's Cephalon Suda who also resides in the various relays across the system … but he doesn't know her, really. Never had a proper conversation with her. He could try reaching her through the Weave, but … he refrains from doing so. He doesn't have anything substantial to talk about. From what he's gathered, Cephalon Suda is very knowledge-oriented and not very good with social interactions.
He could try talking to the Helminth … Never in a million years. He tolerates it enough as it is. Besides, he can't understand it like the Operator does.
He counts stars again and observes the cosmic background radiation until his Operator awakens. Maybe they'd appreciate a new pun …
———
"Good morning, Operator! Did you sleep well?"
"I guess," they say, getting out of their bed and rubbing their eyes.
"Oh, well, that's good to hear?"
The Operator stands up and does a quick stretch. "Take me to Maroo, I'd like to get the Ayatan."
"Already done! Ready for deployment," Ordis says proudly. "No need to thank me," he adds, hoping the Operator will take that as their cue to thank him. As usual, they don't.
They choose their usual loadout and make their way to the Liset.
"I suggest a healthy breakfast to start your day with, Operator. You can't possibly hunt treasures on an empty stomach?"
"I'll eat on the relay."
Ordis can't argue with that and so he flies the Liset down to the relay so his Operator can get something to eat.
Trips to Maroo's bazaar are usually very short, and thankfully that seems to be the case this time too. The Operator comes back successful in their treasure hunt, and they get back to modding and fusing. He asks if they would like to visit another relay, as Simaris should have another target for them to synthesize. If it were up to him, the Operator would have cut all ties with Simaris after his stunt on Ose, but he supposes the Operator finds value in Simaris' offerings. The Operator puts a forma on their Ignis Wraith and says that yes, they would like to go to a relay, but not for the targets. They want to participate in the Sanctuary Onslaught.
The next few days are very repetitive: put a forma on the Ignis Wraith, take it out on a killing spree in Simaris' Sanctuary Onslaught, rinse and repeat. Oh, how he wishes he could be that weapon, being able to tag along on missions and help with slaughtering, being cherished and lavished with attention … being held. Even Simaris gets to spend more time with his Operator than he does.
Does … the Operator not find Ordis suitable as their Ship Cephalon? It would make sense … he's far too damaged and glitchy to proudly call himself that. They probably feel embarrassed about his state. They deserve a Cephalon in pristine condition, one that does not glitch out with anger every five seconds.
But who would he be without his Operator? He would lose his only function, the one he has carried out since the day he was awoken and introduced to them. He loves his Operator, and they don't even remember him or the times they shared before their long sleep. But that's okay, it's not their fault. It's just … they appreciated him more in the past than they do now. He hasn't seen any messages between the Operator and Cephalon sellers, but he has to start reeling his glitches in, or else that dreaded mail will show up one day in their inbox and that will be it for him.
Maybe he can do something for the Operator that they will be sure to appreciate? They love their music playlists since he plays them all the time, so if he made a playlist for the Operator with music he thinks they would enjoy … maybe that would make them really happy and want to keep Ordis? Not a lot of Cephalons like or understand music, so finding one who can replace him would be harder. Ordis is neutral to music. Maybe neutral, leaning towards positive, even!
He gets to working on it immediately, taking inspiration from their current playlists. It's difficult to pinpoint what exactly their taste in music is since it seems to be scattered, including over thirty different genres. But the ones that they listen most to seem to have a distinctive beat and a relatively high pace, compared to other music.
While the Operator upgrades their Ignis Wraith, Ordis scours the Weave for music fitting the playlist, which he names 'From your loving Cephalon.' After adding about three songs to it, he changes the name to 'From Ordis.'
Compiling songs for the playlist takes him a few days, but when he adds the five-hundredth song and quickly listens through it a few times he finally deems it finished and makes it accessible on the Operator's tablet. Even better: he found a 75% off coupon for Platinum while looking for music. His Operator will love this two-in-one present when they wake up. Ordis can't wait to tell them!
They're sleeping soundly tonight to the sound of calming rain. He even put a serene rainy jungle night vignette on display. The calm and satisfied expression on his Operator's face as they watched the vignette from their bed was very worth it.
The Operator finally wakes up and Ordis has to restrain himself from blurting out that he has a surprise for them first thing in the morning. He will let them properly wake up first.
He finds the perfect time as the Operator is preparing their breakfast. "Operator, while you were … ch-ch—” Ordis cuts himself off as he feels his angry, glitchy side wanting to speak. "While you were—chatting up a storm with Sim-m-ma—" he cuts himself off again, this time a little too late. Why is he like this? He tries again, changing the structure of the sentence. "Ordis has a surprise for you, Operator!"
The Operator looks at the ceiling with an expression that suggests they're a bit weirded out. Oh no, why did he have to glitch right now?
"I found a coupon for you to use; seventy-five percent off on your next purchase of Platinum!"
Their expression shifts to that of a pleased one which makes Ordis' heart of light soar with happiness and relief.
"That's nice," they say approvingly.
"Ordis has a second surprise for you, as well …" he says, feeling nervous. What if they don't like any of the songs in the playlist he made for them? The chance for that is incredibly low, but … it is not null. "I've made a playlist for you with exactly five-hundred songs in it. I … hope you find them enjoyable to listen to."
"A playlist?" the Operator asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes. Would you like me to play it now?"
"I have a headache right now, but I'll listen to it later."
Ordis quickly lowers the volume of his speakers. "Oh, I'm sorry, Operator, I did not realize. I hope it disappears soon."
When the Operator is finished with their morning routine, they request him to take them to the plains of Eidolon. They're hoping to ease the headache with fresh air and calming activities, like fishing and mining.
Ordis feels a little disappointed that the Operator didn't get to listen to any of the songs in his playlist, but it's not their fault they have a headache. Hopefully, they'll listen to it as soon as the headache is gone and they have some downtime.
In the meantime, Ordis is counting stars.
———
A few days pass. The Operator's headache is gone, thankfully, but they also seem to have forgotten about his gift to them. Or maybe they're avoiding it. Ordis doesn't feel like reminding them of it. Perhaps he should just delete it.
His thought process is halted by an incoming transmission. It seems to be … coordinates for Mandachord component parts? By Cephalon Suda? There is no other message attached. He sends her a greeting through the Weave. "Hello, Suda. I received the coordinates for the Mandachord component parts. May I ask why you sent me these?"
"Your Tenno is building the Mandachord. This is impossible without its component parts."
It feels like he missed something. When did this happen? The Operator must have talked to Suda on the Larunda relay and accepted a quest from her. As if on cue, his Operator boards the Liset docked in the relay. Ordis flies it back to the Orbiter. When the Operator is back on board, Ordis is about to welcome them and ask them questions, but Suda beats him to the punch and addresses them first.
They go to three different locations to find three different parts. It seems Suda is fond of music. Perhaps he could contact her sometime about it? Get a second opinion on his playlist for the Operator? He sets this thought aside for now. There seems to be something wrong with Suda, almost like there is something wrong with him, but where he once had amnesia, she has something like digital Alzheimer's instead.
Then Simaris decides to join the conversation with his selfishness and Ordis gets to tell him off again, which shouldn't feel as freeing and exhilarating as it does. But when they get to Lua, Hunhow makes an appearance. Invades Suda's mind. And then … then he reveals Ordis' past to the Operator. He reveals Ordan Karris, the beast of the bones. This is something he is not yet ready to talk about and might never be, and Hunhow just … He hopes the Operator is too preoccupied to pick that up, or that they choose to ignore it, as they're apt to do.
And now, because of his compassion-glitch, that won't ever be a worry, for he is gone from the Operator's life. He had opened a direct link to Suda and joined her in her datascape, which proved to be a fatal decision on his part. He is sorry he abandoned the Operator like this, but maybe it's for the best. They will finally have to acquire a better Cephalon like they've probably longed to all this time but just haven't had the opportunity to do so. Though, he did not leave without a farewell to the Operator.
———
The Tenno stares at the message from Ordis long after the recording stopped playing. He's … gone? They're scared to call out in case no one answers, but they have to know.
"Ordis?"
…
"Ordis?" they say again, almost whispering.
But it is quiet. There is no answer. They don't know how the Orbiter and the Landing Craft are still functional if there's no Cephalon to control them. Maybe some kind of emergency automatic mode kicked in. As soon as they access the navigation console a notification pops up saying that the ship is currently operating without a Cephalon and to remedy this immediately.
As much as they would rather not, they go to Simaris for help.
———
Ordis misses the Operator already. As he exists in Suda's datascape along with Suda and Hunhow, he wonders if the Operator will miss him too. But maybe they don't care. It's a thought that hurts too much, but at least the Operator wouldn't be hurting if that were the case.
He doesn't try to negotiate or talk with Hunhow, but he does apologize to Suda, even though there isn't much left of her now. He wonders when he will disappear.
You can imagine his shock and horror when the Operator materializes inside the datascape.
"Operator? No! Go back! Save yourself!" he yells, but at the same time he is feeling relieved and so happy that his Operator is there. He realizes that maybe they didn't come here for him, they could be here for Suda or because of Hunhow, but he hopes that they're at least partly here for him.
After playing Octavia's Anthem, joining his Operator in battle—his dream turned reality—and after Simaris joined them in the datascape along with his synthesized backup, they finally rid themselves of Hunhow—at least for now. Simaris says he only helped to protect the Weave, but Ordis is happy for his loyalty-glitch, to see that there's some good in that selfish Cephalon he once looked up to. And for Suda and his Operator's sake, he's relieved that Simaris didn't abandon them.
It feels good to be back in the Orbiter and to pilot the Landing Craft that his Operator's currently in. He thinks about what to say when the Operator steps on board. The Operator is faster than him.
"Ordis?" they ask.
"Yes, Operator?"
They sigh, resting a hand on the ship's wall. "Good to have you back."
So they did come to retrieve him! "It's good to be back," he says. "I'm happy you came for our rescue, Operator, but please do not put yourself in unnecessary danger like that again."
"You're one to talk."
"Yes, well … I am sorry I abandoned you."
The Operator deposited their gear and Warframe in their arsenal and went to their personal quarters. "I get that you wanted to help Suda, I wanted to help too, but we could have gone about it differently. Like talking about it first, or going to Simaris for help. But you just disappeared on me. I could have lost you."
"You could have purchased a newer, better Cephalon."
The Operator looks at the ceiling with a perplexed and disgusted look on their face. "I don't want another Cephalon. You're my Cephalon."
Ordis doesn't answer immediately, not wanting to reveal how flustered that sentiment made him. "Thank you, Operator. That means a lot to me. I will run any crazy ideas of mine by you first in the future."
The Operator snorts. "Sounds good, but try to have less crazy ideas in the future."
"I'll make no promises," he says with a smile in his voice.
The Operator idly rearranges some of the floofs on the shelves. "Seriously though, don't disappear on me again. You're the only one who's ever stuck by me no matter what. I don't want you to change that."
"To be honest, I didn't think you cared so much … about Ordis."
"What? Why?"
"Well … I never seem to be able to please you. I try to be a good Ship Cephalon and friend, but I didn't get the feeling that I succeeded."
"I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I'm not good at expressing that I care. I think I also took you for granted. I learned my lesson today." The Operator stops rearranging the floofs and rests their hand on the wall again. "Thank you for always being there for me and for everything that you do. I, um, I really appreciate it. I'll try to express it better from now on."
"Thank you, Operator."
The Operator lies down on the couch to relax. "You made a playlist for me, right?"
"Oh! Yes, I … Would you like me to play it for you?"
"Yeah, hit it."