6th POST
MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)
~=You have no idea how I feel, how much it hurts that Asher is not here. He was the better parent from the two of us, he was more attached to the children and the kids to him, always was. I would show you, share with you how I feel, but I'm afraid you won't be able to bear it. I don't know what family is... I mean, I didn't have one, the first one I could call my family was Asher. Apart from him and the twins, I don't know what a family is. Or what does it mean.=~
Thomas had been aware of the rabbit-hole of Mercy's secrets for a while by then, never daring to tumble down it for the chance of finding out things that would leave him with irrevocable regret for inquiring or listening to truths such as those Kala'myr had been reluctant to reveal, and seemingly for good reason at that. Her struggle with the concept of family alone was a revelation of itself, but still, the Bloodhound continued to listen as the Matriarch continued in her telepathic communications - hoping beyond reason that family would see sense and move on from her vengeance for the sake of her children.
~=I wish I could tell you why they would be in a perfect place with Keilara… maybe someday. Wait…=~
And without warning, the dreaded moment they discussed was upon them, henceforth bringing about the makings of the Maw's very first in-faction rivalry between tribes.
The very first strike of The Secret War.
Neither Barran nor Kala'myr were ready for the following moments, forced by fate to experience the moment they hoped would not come to pass on Panatha, an eventuality they both wished would not have happen at all, but the fact the Warlord and the Matriarch discussed it only recently was enough to indicate the kind of trouble they were likely to encounter in the jungles of Canthar Province. Mercy had said she planned to escape captivity in the event such misfortune tested them as it was by then, but it was fairly obvious that this would be easier said than done; especially in consideration of the individual they suspected was the one to attempt the Serennoan's capture, for none were powerful enough to even dare, none but the Taskmaster.
~=Thomas, why did you send soldiers to my hideout? Moreover, they don't even answer our calls.=~
By then, the Bloodhound was genuinely confused, as he was absolutely sure he hadn't sent anyone to guard a cave that none could locate but Mercy, a knock-on effect of the Matriarch expressed refusal of assistance in this matter. Making it all the more confusing was the fact that refused hails were only ever a habit of all the Maw's sworn enemies in the Galaxy, and with the Imperials, Eternals, Elysians and Ashlans alike surmised to be much too far away to be considered identifiable in this manner, it didn't take long for Barran to realise something was awry beyond that point. Besides the clear horror the Bloodhound was feeling in that moment, it would be dwarfed almost entirely by the rage, going from creeping up on Thomas as Tu'teggacha's subordinates were towards Mercy, to boiling dangerously close to the destructive fury that once assailed his closest friends within the Tri-Lunar clique.
'Not now.... Not here, surely!'
~=I have a bad feeling about this.=~
~=Mercy, pay close attention.... I can't send soldiers to a cave I never located - you need to RUN!=~
Her fate was in the hands of Rebirth by then, and Barran knew there was nothing that could be done, it was all down to Kala'myr and a god he couldn't bring himself to trust. However, grim though the outlook appeared, the tribe needed to continue on, and the Bloodhound was far from willing to give up the fight on Panatha; stubborn by blood and by nature, and being instructed not to let such vicious turns of luck dissuade him, the one-eyed Warlord wasn't ready to give up on account of in-faction provocations.
'Chit!'
Troop movements were seen in the south soon later, looping around to attack the Mawite deployment-zones in a flanking manoeuvre that would certainly cut of the Scar Hounds from the allies who remained available to them; this wasn't boding well for the Maw, and like his gut instinct told him on Mustafar and on Empress Teta alike, the tides were beginning to turn against them again. The advances into the Galactic Core had met their conclusion with a resoundingly aggressive counter, and it had been left to tribes of Marauders to weather the storm, with none taking quite so much punishment as the Scar Hounds had in the thickest of the hostilities. It was fair to say it would be years before the Maw could pose a threat to the peoples of the Galaxy, and in the drawn out process of suffering to find the toughest, most destructive allies in the Unknown Region, the realisation that more of his tribal subordinates would suffer in all of it was enough to drive the rage beyond the point of reason.
Watching on as the opposing Special-Forces units veered around eastward, Barran ground his back teeth in the process of clenching his jaw, closing eyes and inhaling through his nostrils before he sighed,
'You want odds like these, aye?', in acceptance of his reliance on faith once more. But this time, the Woad's silent prayer would be offered to Rebirth in a loveless appeal to a higher power, in calm, unconditional reverence to an Avatar who feared him, and in clear contrast to the poetic, amorous beseeching in the months and years before.
'If not for me, then help for the sake of my tribe. You owe us that much at least, but I still have faith you will watch over them.... You're still a god after all, greatest of our Three. Hail Rebirth.'
As he lifted his head from prayer, the man who would be king of Marauders would watch his foes for another moment or so before turning away and sneaking off northward again, only to find a pile of bodies a minute or so into his northward escape, along with Superious, kneeling and slow-breathing from exertion just a short distance away from what was assumed to be the bloody, lightning-burned remains of forward-operating Spec-Ops units.
'Not bad, Erion.... Not bad at all.', Barran admitted, kneeling down next to him for a moment as he sheathed his Romphaia, taking into account that Justeene had been deploying a lot lately, just as the Woad himself had been, but deep down knew that using such advanced and heavy powers would naturally sap more energy from an Ubese who was far more powerful with his midichlorian control.
<"All Tri-Lunars, this is the Bloodhound! Make your way northeast, it is time to make our presence felt on Panatha.... The Age of Expansion is over - but a Golden-Era for Marauders has only just begun. Find me and I will tell you why I know this to be true, but you need to hurry. Bloodhound out!">
'Alright, brother. Lets get moving - not far to go anyway. An' where we're gawn, you get to ask whatever question burns your mind the most. Dibs on scout-role this time, but stick close.'
Ingrid L'lerim
,
DECEASED Aron Gowrie
,
Bex Tarring
,
Nukth Kelga'an
