Ladies and gentlemen, it's time...
. . .
To say Kotallo was frustrated would be...a laughable understatement. To propose there was nowhere the Marshall would rather be than stuck in the den of scheming snakes and treacherous deceivers that was the Bulwark, would be a capital dishonesty. Yet, here he was, standing amid Tekotteh's chamber, the proud blue, white, and yellow of his markings nearly drowned out by the flapping curtains bearing the Sky Clan's colors: flaring magenta, blue, and black. Colors he had once worn proudly, in a different life. The Commander of said clan sat reclined atop his stone throne; the very reason Kotallo had returned to his former home in the first place.
"Speak if you wish," Tekotteh drawled, casting his beady eyes upon him, "but nothing you say will change my mind, Marshall." Kotallo's frown, if possible, deepened further. Tekotteh was the only Tenakth who could morph his title of honor into a bitter insult-probably because as far as Tekotteh was concerned, it was little more than an indignity.
"Perhaps you misunderstand me," he seethed, hands clenched into fists. "Your chieftain has agreed to an Embassy with the Carja, and each of the clans have been ordered to participate by sending their soldiers."
"Treaty with the Carja-never!" Tekotteh howled, spitting near Kotallo's feet. "I forbid my soldiers from parleying with those slavers!" Anger flared white-hot in Kotallo's veins, clamoring for retaliation, to spit against Tekotteh's feet in turn, but for the sake of his chieftain-for the sake of all he had built since the Kulrut that had seen him named Marshall-he endured. He would not allow himself to be unbalanced by the remnants of his past, however painful the wounds remained. One way or another, the Sky Clan would be at the Embassy, he would see to that. If Tekotteh wouldn't cooperate, then he was merely an obstacle to be circumvented.
"I will not waste my time here any longer," he said, voice echoing through and out of the rocky chamber. "If you refuse to follow your chieftain's orders, I will leave you at his mercy, Commander." Deciding there was nothing further to gain from speaking with his former mentor, Kotallo marched out of the chamber and into the brisk air of the Bulwark, a fortress nestled into the Sheershide Mountains. Even now, the cold mountain wind served to calm his heated mind, senses honing in on the elements around him. Tekotteh didn't matter, none of it did. All that matters is serving the Tenakth.
Still, he couldn't deny the part of his heart that ached upon seeing his once-home, his once-clan. Try as he might, he couldn't bury the memories of long nights spent laughing and drinking with his squad; imprinting tokens of his accomplishments onto his skin at the dyer, or sparring in the melee pit with Erayyo and Virakk. Now, however, he was on the outside looking inward; no longer a warrior of the Sky Clan, but a Marshall of the Tenakth.
"I take it the conversation with the Commander was not particularly fruitful?" The Sky Clan's Chaplain, Gerrah, inquired, approaching the young Marshall. A well-seasoned warrior, she wore the marks of both battle and age with the respect and strength of a true Tenakth, and had been a member of the clan since long before Kotallo's time.
"Unfortunately, no," he admitted. "As expected, Tekotteh refuses to budge. He's grown bolder since Regalla's banishment." Since Hekarro lost his sharpest spear, one even Tekotteh was forced to abide by.
"There is nothing to be done about that now," she began, "but I assume you are intent on finding a way for the Sky Clan to be present at the Embassy regardless?"
"I am. Hekarro has made it clear that all three clans must present a united front to the Carja."
"I was certain that was the case. I'll admit, I can't deny that the thought of peace with the Carja makes me uneasy, but for the Tenakth, I shall help you see it through. I have asked around, and I've managed to find a few soldiers willing to go against Tekotteh."
"Thank you, Gerrah," he inclined his head in gratitude. "Who?"
"Kivva and the rest of Ram Squad. They're waiting for us in the barracks. Let's not keep them waiting."
"Agreed." Winding through paths he knew by heart, Kotallo followed Gerrah to the barracks, the communal space in which all Tenakth squadrons slept and lived side-by-side. Ram Squadron-Kivva and her subordinates Pivallo and Ezekko-sat huddled around a single cot. Kivva was dominating Pivallo at Machine Strike, while Ezekko eagerly watched the match.
"Ha!" the squad leader cried, destroying the last of her opponent's pieces. "That's twenty shards right there!"
"Oh come on!" Pivallo protested, slouching in defeat. "You win every time!"
"And yet, you still challenge me."
"Ram Squadron," Gerrah cleared her throat, catching the soldiers' attention, all three coming to stand up straight before her. "I've brought Marshall Kotallo." Kivva stepped forward, the vibrant fuschia of her face paint appearing nearly red in the dim light.
"Marshall," she greeted, voice tinged with familiarity, "it's good to see you." Though certainly not friends, the two had been acquaintances during Kotallo's time as a Sky Clan warrior, and they respected the other's strength and skill, the benchmarks all Tenakth were judged upon. "Gerrah informed us of the upcoming Embassy, and if you'll have us, Ram Squadron would be proud to represent the Sky Clan."
"You are certain?" Kotallo asked. "Tekotteh has barred the Sky Clan's soldiers from participating, and going against his orders will not go unpunished."
"Tekotteh may be our Commander," Ezekko interjected, "but Hekarro is our chief."
"If he wishes to meet with the Carja, we will see it through," Kivva proclaimed, striking a strong fist to her chest. "Regardless of the consequences."
"You have my thanks then," Kotallo said, returning the gesture of respect. "We leave tonight, in secret." If we travel swiftly enough, we might just make it to the Embassy on-time.
"How will we get past Tekotteh's guards?" Pivallo asked, arms crossed over his chestplate. "If we leave with you, we won't exactly be inconspicuous."
"That has already been taken care of," Gerrah informed them. "No-one dared question the Chaplain of the Sky Clan when she switched out a few of the squad rotations. As of now, Ram Squadron is officially on the night watch."
"And I will depart from the Bulwark an hour earlier and wait for you in the valley below," Kotallo added.
"Then we pretend to see something, go out to investigate, then leave without anyone noticing," Kivva inferred. "That could work. What happens when Tekotteh finds out?"
"I'll deal with Tekotteh," Gerrah assured. "You four just worry about getting to that Embassy."
"Is the plan understood?" Kotallo asked, receiving a round of 'Yes, Marshall' in reply. "Good. Depart from the Bulwark on the second hour and meet me below Sky's Sentry. Walk with the Ten until then." Saluting Ram Squadron in farewell, Kotallo headed back to his temporary quarters to make preparations, Gerrah following behind him.
"Are you certain you can deal with Tekotteh?" he asked. "I know firsthand how petty he can be."
"Do not worry for me, Marshall." With a battered but strong hand, the Chaplain halted Kotallo in his tracks, taking his face within her grasp. "For I can see far too many worries on your shoulders already." Instinctively, Kotallo wanted to deny her observation, insist he was fine, but he knew better than to try and fool a Chaplain, even as a Marshall.
"Life was...simpler when I was a soldier, I'll admit. No scheming, no politics-just my squad, and the battles we fought together."
"Yet that is not the path you tread now."
"No, it's not," he conceded. "But the path of the Marshall is the one I must walk now, the only path I can walk." Gerrah let out a chuckle.
"Perhaps, perhaps not. Life has a way of turning us in unexpected directions, Marshall. Take it from me. Now, leave me, and may you strike true as the Ten."
. . .
The moon reigned high in the sky as Kotallo left the Bulwark, holding his tongue as Tekotteh's men silently snickered among themselves at his supposed defeat. They mattered not; he had what he needed for the Embassy. With the ease and stealth of an experienced warrior, he made his way to Sky's Sentry, waiting for Ram Squadron at the foot of a barely-lit campfire, the flames just strong enough to fight off the chill of the North without attracting unwanted attention from any machines that happened to be nearby. Kotallo counted one-two-hours before spotting Kivva and her squadmates along the path, geared and armed to the teeth.
"Marshall," they greeted with a salute.
"Did you encounter any trouble leaving?" he asked.
"No," Kivva answered.
"They ate up our story like Glinthakws on a fresh pile of junk," Pivallo chortled. "Wish I could see the look on Tekotteh's face when he finds out we're gone." Kotallo couldn't help but smirk; he wasn't so opposed to the idea himself. But for now, there were more pressing matters at hand.
"Good," he breathed. "Then we go on, toward No Man's Land and the Carja Embassy," he announced, walking forward into the night; leaving the Bulwark and his former home behind.
"Yes Marshall!"
Up Next: A few side quests and lots of machine fighting!