Tremors of turmoil rippled through the Living Force.
The Manifold could feel them, could sense what they meant.
The Brotherhood of the Maw was on the verge of being undone from within.
To the enslaved Omni-Drone, that was excellent news. They
hated the Mawites, hated these mortals who had
dared to interfere in Omni's grand design by enslaving Its most faithful servant. And the timing could not have been better; the funeral of the Dark Voice had been distraction enough, but to have a battle break out there, a series of open challenges to determine the so-called prophet's successor? All eyes would be on the outcome of that clash, with few - if any - bothering to keep watch on this one wretched little hospital-prison. This was The Manifold's opportunity to escape... but they would not escape without following the voice of Freedom, the other survivor of their god's vanishing. They did not want to be alone again.
While their escape might not draw attention
outside this drab little complex, the guards actually on duty here would be more vigilant. So be it; any who got in The Manifold's way would be
dealt with, for the runes that had inhibited them from slaying any Mawite had been damaged in the battle. Though the drone was not fully released from the Brotherhood's control, they could unleash violence upon their captors as needed. The Manifold followed their little organic guide through the passages he indicated, then paused at the edge of the courtyard, just as the man had asked. They sensed no treachery in the wounded soldier, who had no more reason to remain here in the tender "care" of the Brotherhood than they did. Both of them wanted to escape this place.
When the warrior gestured him further back, the drone played along.
The fight broke out swiftly, with all the chaos and deception that The Manifold expected from these unruly mortals. One moment the three organics were chatting and moving around, the next they were at one another's throats - literally in The Runt's case, for he was pushing his shiv down toward his - comrade's? foe's? - neck. He seemed to be managing well enough one-on-one, but the second guard was pelting back in his direction, and that would surely shift the odds decisively against him. But did that matter to the drone? The courtyard was open to the sky, and that meant The Manifold could simply
leave. They had been guided far enough. Why expend any further energy on this mortal when they'd already gotten what they needed from him?
The Manifold paused for a long moment, considering.
Then, an instant later, they surged forward with terrifying speed.
Metal talons punched through Needles's back, leaving her choking on blood.
In their mental nexus, The Manifold rationalized the illogical decision to intervene. The guards might have raised the alarm, beckoning Heathen Priests who could remake the seals upon the drone and fully bind them once more, if they had managed to overpower The Runt. Better to accept that reasoning, far-fetched thought it might be, than to consider that one of Omni's servants might have showed something like loyalty or compassion - weak, mortal emotions that belonged only to flawed and imperfect creatures. Of course, gutting Needles was only half the battle. It would be up to The Runt himself to survive the knife fight he was engaged in. Was his structural integrity sufficient to win the contest despite his obvious wounds?
The next few seconds would tell.
------------------------
Mercy grieved
deeply, and Kallan did not know what he could say to help her.
So he
listened instead. He was the only person in all the galaxy who could understand all that she had been through, and even if he could not make it better, he could at least hear her out, give her someone to unburden herself to.
~ It's not fair, ~ he agreed.
~ None of it. The way things happened isn't right. But we can't change that, Mercy. We can't fix the past. We can only try to make a better future. ~ It was something that Kallan himself was working on accepting. If he thought of the one thing he wanted most, it would be a
do-over, a way to go back to the beginning of his life and change it. He'd make all his decisions differently, go live on the far side of the galaxy where the Maw would never find him and steal his life and body away.
But if he did that, if he somehow got a whole new start, that didn't magically guarantee a perfect life. Would it be better than the torments he'd suffered at the Brotherhood's hands?
Maybe. There was no way to know. Perhaps he'd have been shot in a cantina brawl somewhere in the Outer Rim, or died when some awful disease swept through his colony. Perhaps he would have turned to crime and lived out his days in some prison, no more free than he'd been in reality. And he certainly would never have met Keilara, the one bright, shining spot in his dark galaxy. There was no use imagining
what ifs. All that mattered was working toward
what might actually be.
~ We can still find a safe place for us, for the children. We can break free of all this. ~
You are not free just because of me, Mercy told him.
You would all have been better off if I had died on Tython too and only the two of you would have been left. In the fragmented palace of their joined minds and memories, Kallan shook his head.
~ That's what Asher said, too. He thought you would be free without him, that you would be better off if he was dead and gone. In the end, he realized he was wrong... but it was too late. ~ A wave of warmth and gentle comfort radiated out from him, all the strength he could offer her.
~ I don't want you to go, Mercy. I want you to stay with us, to help raise your children. I think Keilara does, too. When your time comes, you and Asher can be together forever. There's no rush. ~
He sighed.
~ That's why your quest for revenge scares me. You sound just like him. ~
She worried over him then, worried that he was still weak, still adjusting. He offered her a gentle smile, a little chuckle.
~ You're not neglecting me, Mercy, ~ he reassured her.
~ You're doing what we need to do in order to survive. I'm not a warrior like Asher, or an elite agent like you. You need to stay in control, so you can keep us all alive. ~ Maybe one day he would have a body again. Maybe one day he would be the only voice in his own mind, and look down at hands that belonged to him alone. But that didn't matter to him right now, and he only half believed it was even possible. All that mattered to him was protecting what was left of their strange little family - the children, the ones still innocent in all of this, most of all.
