Chapter 26 - The Spirit of Cooperation

ANTROZ - OFF THE COAST OF AUSTRALIA

Deep within his chambers, Antroz stirred. He did not sleep; none of the Makuta did. But in times of war it was not uncommon for him to meditate, remaining deep in thought and undisturbed for days, while his troops executed their orders.

No light penetrated the bowels of the ship where Antroz kept his room. It was one of the innermost chambers of the ship, protected from assault in any direction by the armor and structure of the vessel. This left it far from the light of the natural world, and while the room did have artificial lighting, Antroz kept it off. He was a being of shadow, purged of his inner light - the dark held no secrets from him. He saw through it with peerless clarity.

The only light in the room was the illumination cast upon a large series of shelves along one wall, which was covered in Kanohi. Antroz remembered a claim he had made to that Po-Toa years ago. What was their name?

Pohatu… Yes…

After he died, Antroz collected his Kanohi - the Toa had no further use for it. He had not lied when he told the being he collected broken Toa; merely exaggerated. He did not collect their corpses per se, but the wall of masks were testament to his capabilities.

From behind the fanged maw of the Kanohi Jutlin, Antroz's eyes opened. He uncurled himself, gracefully falling from his perch on the ceiling, and landing on the floor without a sound.

There came a knock at the door, exactly as he expected.

"Enter."

The door swung open, casting a ray of light into the room. His Ihidauri attendant stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights of the hallway.

"Undermarshall Onevi has returned, bearing reports from the Western assault," said the Ihidauri. Antroz nodded - the news came at the exact second he expected it to.

"Then let us pray that it is good," he said, stalking towards the door.

Antroz liked Onevi, as much as Antroz liked any of the faceless masses of the Brotherhood's military might. The Barramoi was a competent and skilled agent who both provided excellent command of his honor guard and quality performance in combat. He was everything Antroz could hope to receive from an officer.

Despite this, he was very displeased with Onevi at the moment.

"- leading to some casualties from forward scouts. A few members of the Long Patrol. We've been successful in making strategic withdrawals at minimal loss of personnel -"

Antroz cut Onevi off.

"You have been retreating?"

Onevi nodded.

"Yes, sir."

Antroz leaned forward.

"Many other Makuta would have you killed for such a display."

Although Antroz's threat was very clear, he did not mean to back it up. Onevi was more useful alive than in any other condition. Indeed, Antroz likely would have ordered the retreat had he been asked, as the foe that he faced was…

"Primitive Hordika…" Antroz said, leaning back and staring into the void. The thought had briefly occurred to him when Chirox mentioned utilizing Visorak, as it would not be the first time the Visorak accidentally provided the Brotherhood's foes with new strength and power - but Antroz had hoped the enemy's unique biology would prevent any such risks from coming to pass.

It had not.

Antroz cursed Chirox under his breath - the damn fool had suggested the idea in the first place, and knew full well the capabilities of his pets. He had had the capacity to test Hordika venom on test subjects beforehand, and determine what - if any - risks could occur from mixing his army of spiders with the Brotherhood's new foe. He internally conceded that Chirox was a scientist, not a strategist - but even in the name of science, he should have at least tested such a possibility before suggesting its implementation.

And Antroz, foolishly, had gone along with the idea, with the hopes that, if it was successful, it would encourage Icarax to view him more fondly. Instead, he must now take the news to his master that an entire hostile continent was becoming rapidly overrun by an army of enemies the Brotherhood had accidentally armed with beastial strength and Rhotuka launchers.

"Chirox will need to be informed," said Antroz, arising from his chair. More pressingly, however…

"Onevi. Reconvene troops along the initial three landing zones. Rahkshi from the 33rd "Animal Handlers" legion - Rahi Control - will assist your retreat. I have my doubts that they will be able to control this enemy, owing to both them being only half-beast, and not being truly Rahi in the first place, but seeing as there seem to be no true Rahi in this universe regardless, I am comfortable sacrificing some of their number to reinforce you."

"Aye sir," said Onevi, saluting. Antroz returned the gesture, and dismissed the Barramoi undermarshall. He then turned to his Ihidauri slave, who immediately stood at attention - years of service attuning him to lulls in the conversation in which he may be called upon.

"Send a message to the Stealer of Life. Chirox is summoned to the Change of Heart immediately, regardless of convenience. Send for me when he arrives."

The Ihidauri nodded wordlessly and rushed out of the room towards the bridge. Antroz returned to his chair, leaning back once more, and thinking. Icarax will not like this one bit.

The moment Chirox entered the meeting room, Antroz's fist collided with his face. Chirox, dazed, spun to the ground - but he was not seriously hurt. He attempted to rise and identify his attacker, before another blow to the side of the head returned him to the ground, and a kick to the chest rolled him onto his back. Antroz pressed his clawed foot onto Chirox's ribcage.

"Chirox, old friend. It is good to see you," he said in a disgusted tone.

Antroz had no need to smell, but he still did so out of habit at times. He hated Chirox's smell. Antroz was well acquainted with the scents of death and bloodshed, but Chirox took a familiar smell and made it something cold and alien. It mingled with the artificial odors of his laboratories, and left a lingering atmosphere of sterile cruelty in Chirox's wake.

Antroz tried to ignore the smell, and ground his heel into the black-armored Makuta, who groaned in pain.

"Antroz. What is the meaning of this?" Chirox spat. Antroz put more of his weight on Chirox's chestplate.

"Do you remember your little idea about the Visorak, brother? An expendable, reproducing force that could clean out an entire enemy continent with little to no infantry support? It was going to impress Icarax so much, wasn't it?"

Chirox glared up at Antroz, who waited for a response. After a moment, the Makuta nodded.

"Yes, I knew you would," Antroz continued. "I remember some things too. I remember your exact words - 'inconceivable that my plan would fail', you said."

Antroz drew out the words, taunting his brother. Chirox's brow furrowed, then his eyes widened as he seemed to realize what Antroz was implying.

Antroz's foot slammed through thin air as Chirox's body shimmered. Activating his density control, he passed intangibly through Antroz's leg and stood upright. Returning to a solid state, he brushed himself off, though his eyes remained locked on Antroz's.

"What happened?" he asked, urgently.

"What happens every time Visorak use their venom on something, Chirox?" Antroz replied acridly.

Silence hung between the two Makuta, and Chirox seemed to float for a moment. Then the weight of Antroz's question seemed to impact Chirox like one of Antroz's earlier punches as he sagged and collapsed into a chair.

"Oh," was all the Makuta could say. Antroz stared him down. "That's…interesting. Actually quite surprising."

Chirox's words quickened, and his eyes darted back and forth.

"Do you think perhaps we could acquire a sampl-"

In a single moment, Antroz unsheathed his scythe-like blades, and with a practiced efficiency, brought them to Chirox's throat. Roaring in anger, Antroz shouted at his idiotic brother.

"Your incapacity to plan ahead has cost us lives, brother!" he hollered, shaking the room. "You failed to account for a tactical weakness that not only were you aware of, but that you created! You made those foul spiders, and you made them capable of mutating creatures with their venom. It should not have come as a surprise to you that they did what you designed them to, especially because it is not the first time we have had this exact problem!"

Chirox gritted his fang-like teeth and tilted his neck away from the swords that grazed against his armor. A simple decapitation would not kill him, but Antroz was still quite confident that, in a fight between a Rahi scientist and a warrior, he would come out on top.

"H-how bad is it?" Chirox asked, after a moment's deliberation.

"Bad. The enemy have grown in sufficient quantities to begin repelling my ground forces. Meanwhile, some of the Visorak have begun allying with particularly strong Hordika, and making their own little clans out there in the desert."

"That shouldn't be possible…" pondered Chirox. "The Visorak are genetically coded with a loyalty to the Brotherhood-"

"Have you ever known Visorak to not simply follow the strongest leader in their vicinity?" replied Antroz. "The Brotherhood has traditionally been the strongest, but you and I are not the beings leading them in their assault. Between a Primitive Hordika or my foot soldiers, clearly some of them have made their choice."

The two remained silent, Antroz's blades still locked at Chirox's throat. With a sigh, Antroz spoke once more.

"You will go before Icarax, and you will fall upon your knees in apology. We are withdrawing from the continent. There is no tactically viable way for us to commit to conquering it while we have to contend with both the established militaries of the Primitives, as well as hostile Visorak and Hordika."

"Surely we could-" began Chirox.

"We could do nothing. Any effort would take too long and cost too many lives. And if I hear you suggest some solution that involves further tampering with viruses and genetics, I swear I will end you here and now."

Chirox's eyes pleaded for another solution, one that did not involve admitting his mistake to Icarax. But Antroz held firm. He would not be held accountable for his brother's failure.

Chirox took a deep breath, and with a shaky voice, replied.

"Fine…"

Antroz stood behind Chirox, arms crossed with a smug satisfaction, as his brother heaped sympathy into his words.

"-with my sincerest apologies, my lord commander," said Chirox, bowing his head to the floor.

Icarax stared at the two from his throne in a terrifying silence. He said nothing, and did not move. Antroz began to worry that the Makuta would address him, and force him to weigh in on the matter - but he did not. Instead, he finally spoke, staring down Chirox.

"There are an infinite quantity of universes, Chirox. Each with minute differences. It stands to reason that there must therefore be an infinite quantity of you…"

Icarax leaned forward, and sneered.

"Do you think there are any where you are competent?"

Icarax's words stung, even to Antroz, while Chirox remained with his head against the floor, cloaked in shame.

"Antroz," said Icarax, addressing the red-armored Makuta. Antroz stood at attention, not wanting to disappoint an already irate master.

"My lord."

"It was your assessment that the enemy continent is now lost."

"Yes, sir."

"Elaborate."

Antroz calmed his nerves. He had faced a furious Icarax before and kept his life. Now Icarax's anger was leveled at another - by all rights, he should survive this encounter.

"It is possible that we could systematically clear out the Hordika from the enemy continent. However, in doing so, we would expend a tremendous infantry force, as well as deprive the Visorak of a food source they have likely been preying on in the absence of unmutated Primitives. Once the food is depleted from the ecosystem, the Visorak will go hungry, and we will be forced to either provide food - a tenuous proposition, as we can barely feed ourselves - or they will begin to prey on us, costing us further lives."

"And so?"

"And so I am of the opinion that we should abandon the continent entirely. We have succeeded in making it uninhabitable for the enemy, thus denying any of its infrastructure or resources to them. I advise we take what good we can from this circumstance, and leave while the opportunity still presents itself."

Icarax leaned back, contemplating Antroz's words. Antroz hoped that his master would see logic; the battle for the Primitive's continent would be a prolonged and bloody affair, and with him placed squarely at the leadership of the ground forces involved, he did not want to repeat Bitil's recent campaign in Odina.

"I clearly have made a lapse in judgment…" said Icarax. "I labored under a delusion that working alongside another Makuta would encourage you to act more responsibly, and in a greater interest to the Brotherhood as a whole."

Antroz grew cold, nervously praying that Icarax was not about to level the blame for the entire situation on his shoulders.

"Clearly my concerns lay on the wrong being," said Icarax, turning his gaze to Chirox. "You have stupidly decided to take into your own claws responsibilities far above your station. Despite your intelligence, it seems that between the two of you, Antroz is the only one with any wisdom."

Antroz's spirit soared at those words. Icarax turned back to him.

"Antroz. I am reassigning you and your fleet to the northern area of the enemy region known as America. We have managed to successfully negotiate an alliance with a Primitive group known as the Chinese, who are moving to assault their naval forces between their territory and the enemy's. However, they are underperforming in their efforts, and have requested coordination with our own forces. You will be working alongside them for the time being, and you will rendezvous your fleet with theirs."

"Of course, my lord," said Antroz. The assignment filled him with joy - it was almost exactly like the sort of position he had held for many thousands of years as the steward of Xia. The Vortixx were a very independent group, and perhaps one of the few in the universe capable of arming themselves with such equipment that they could pose a threat to him, as well as an elected matriarch of their own. As such, he had practiced the delicate balance of diplomatically governing a weaker nation, while being sure not to overstep his bounds and spark conflict. The task he was being assigned was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate to Icarax his skill and his quality.

"You, on the other hand," Icarax said, returning his gaze to Chirox, who immediately averted his eyes. "You will have no further delusions of competence. You will report to me before making any decisions - and I mean any. You will not walk from one end of your ship without informing me. You will not feed your Rahi without telling me. You will not decide what to feed them without asking me first, and my answer will be the final word on the subject. From now on, you are beneath me, and will remain so until I believe you understand the severity of my displeasure with you. Am I understood?"

"Yes, my lord," said Chirox, his voice breaking. Antroz almost felt a smile come to his lips at the sight of Chirox, apologizing on his knees to Icarax; being told how worthless he was, and how terrible his decisions were.

"You are both dismissed," said Icarax, turning away from the two, as his Rahkshi guards escorted them out of the room. Antroz could hear his brother make some idle comments in his ear, but he did not care what they were. He was enjoying the moment too much to think about what Chirox was saying.

"Excuse me, brother. I have new responsibilities to tend to," said Antroz, teleporting away from Chirox before he could reply.

KABEI - METRU NUVA

Things were going well in Metru Nuva, so far as Kabei could estimate. He had finally finished the access ramp - a long tunnel descending almost a kio down into the crust of the island, switching back on itself a dozen times. It was too small to be the main route in and out of the city - but it didn't need to be. Kabei just needed an accessway to move heavy excavating equipment down into the area below. Already he had enlisted several skilled engineers to set up demolition charges to clear out large swathes of empty space. At the same time, Kabei's small supply of Kahgarak had diligently been toiling at the supply of earth and stone, sending massive quantities directly to the Field of Shadows. It was not a perfect system - every so often, a Primitive would get too close to the portal, and a long, chitin-covered arm or fleshy tentacle would reach out and ensnare them, dragging them in before they could scream. Thus, Kabei had mandated that dirt would be piled in specific drop sites and loaded into the portals by machine.

This small act of kindness was part of a series of reforms that Kabei had been making to ensure the quality of life for the slaves was better than it had previously been. His conversation with Krika had truly opened his eyes to the possibilities of creating a better system; one where the slaves worked because they shared the Brotherhood's dream, rather than working because the Brotherhood's heel was on their back.

It was an uphill battle, however. Kabei not only had to convince the slaves of the merit of their work, but he also had to convince his subordinates.

"Respectfully sir, I disagree," said Vect, the Layamat undermarshall at the head of Kabei's team. He had diligently overseen matters of security and safety that Kabei had little knowledge about, and the two had argued more than once as Kabei's role in the treatment of slaves grew larger.

The two stood in a small office that had been erected on the border of the construction site. It had two larger rooms on either side, each containing a dozen bickering engineers or Layamat officers. Kabei and Vect were in the central meeting room, along with a Manidi by the name of Etadex who handled Kabei's requisitions for supplies and equipment. While Kabei had been granted something of a blank check by the Brotherhood, there was still a limit to how quickly and in what quantities he could procure the items he needed, and Etadex had been assigned to handle said procurement.

"I share that opinion. It would take a substantial amount of effort for minimal returns in productivity," said Etadex, not looking up from a tablet clutched in his arms. Kabei noted that Etadex never called him "sir", unlike Vect. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, he didn't like feeling like he was some sort of official or minister within the Brotherhood, and having one of its higher ranking members call him "sir" gave him exactly that impression. On the other hand, Etadex was quite an eerie figure simply on account of his species, and Kabei couldn't help but detect a subtle disrespect from the Manidi whenever he ignored the honorific.

"Okay, well, how about every one-in-ten then? Rolling them out to the integrated groups first, then to the Primitive-only ones afterwards once supplies are available?" replied Kabei.

"I still contend that it isn't an issue of feasibility, sir. It removes a natural disadvantage of the slaves," said Vect. Kabei's brow furrowed.

"That's the point, though. I want them to feel like they're part of the Brotherhood, not just prisoners of it. The ability to speak our language - or at least have some designated translators - is an important step."

"But they'll overhear our conversations, sir! They'll be able to listen to us talking about security and guard rotations, and they might try to leverage that in an escape attempt!"

"Perhaps, but it's not like they're not trying to escape already. And besides, sooner or later things will get more complicated than just digging tunnels. We're building a city here, I need to be able to provide detailed instructions. The grunting and pointing at the shovels has worked fine for now, but it's not a permanent solution."

"Be that as it may, sir, it still represents a burden on our already stretched supply line to create a liability-"

"Etadex, is that true?" Kabei asked, interrupting Vect, who scowled - likely unused to being talked over. Etadex thought for a moment.

"At a rate of one-in-ten? I…could see that working. I could put the Vortixx to work and have it done by about two weeks from now, though that's without proper testing."

"That's fine. They're just collars with Rau Kanoka. If there are any issues involving them breaking or behaving strangely, we can send them back for further development. But I'd rather strike while the protoiron is hot, as they say. They've probably already noticed that the beatings are less frequent, and the food portions are bigger."

"On the subject, I can't help but feel that both of those issues may compound into a greater problem," said Vect. Kabei cocked a brow, and Vect continued. "I worry that the slaves may get the wrong idea, and start to think we're growing complacent. It is very possible that they will start a riot and attempt to escape en masse."

"Which is why we need to be able to communicate with them. Tell them we're trying a new approach."

Vect frowned, clearly holding back words, and instead replied, "Very well, sir."

Kabei watched the slave drivers corral a group of workers in front of a makeshift podium, where several armed Layamat stood around a Vortixx technician. Meanwhile, a second group of Layamat went through the group, selecting every tenth Primitive and setting the Oropi aside. One by one, they were marched on to the stage and had the collar secured around their neck, while the crowd watched nervously. On the stage, the Vortixx affixed the translators, and tested that each one worked properly. Kabei could see shock registering on the Primitive's faces as they found themselves suddenly capable of understanding an entirely different language. Kabei noted that there would be a likely benefit that it would also work in allowing them to understand any other languages from this reality, but he had no idea if Primitives even had different dialects, considering they were all one species.

The thought then occurred to him that he could simply ask - there was no need to wonder about such things in idle curiosity. Marching towards the crowd, he singled out a Primitive with a translator.

"You there," Kabei said, trying to sound as friendly as he could while still maintaining an air of authority. The Primitive turned, still surprised at the words they were hearing. "What is your name?" asked Kabei.

The Primitive looked at him with suspicion, and Kabei could sense reluctance in him. The slavemaster nearest piped up, with a cry of, "You were asked a question, scum -", but Kabei reached out to stay his hand.

"No, it's fine. What's your name?" Kabei asked a second time. After a moment, the Primitive spoke.

"Tom," they said, quietly. Kabei smiled and nodded.

"Tom… I want to know more about you Primitives. Would you mind sharing with me?"

Kabei could see a confused expression spread across Tom's face. Meanwhile, other Primitives were clearly trying to listen in on the conversation, somewhat fruitlessly given the language barrier. Still, they were clearly interested in what an Oropi could be talking about with a Primitive.

Tom shrugged awkwardly, and Kabei frowned.

"I can provide your entire group with extra rations as compensation," offered Kabei, hoping the Primitive would agree to such a deal. Immediately, they nodded in the affirmative, and Kabei smiled.

"Wonderful. Please, sit - uh, if you would like. Unless you prefer to stand."

Tom quickly dropped to the ground, crossing his legs, and Kabei did the same. Hecould sense it - he was breaking through. He was bringing about an era of unprecedented peace and cooperation.

Kabei, as an Oropi, did not exactly have a stomach, nor did he have the concept of sickness. Despite this, he felt sick to his stomach.

He had been touring the construction sites underground, as was his habit each day. He liked to keep up with the progress of the workers, but also he found enjoyment in seeing the progress each day as the earth moved and the site became more clear. It was like watching his creation come to life. However, as he wandered the site, he found several guards removing something he had hoped he would never see again - a corpse.

Three Primitives had died that day. Twelve were injured to such a degree that they needed to spend time in medical recovery (in spite of Etadex's suggestion that they simply be disposed of, as it would be a cheaper alternative), and he had no idea how many more were hurt but still functioning at their jobs. Each had the same connecting tissue - they all wore the translating necklaces.

"Why," asked Kabei, as he looked at his third body. Vect stood beside him, along with a guard who had found the corpse deep within the artificial caves beneath them. Vect sighed.

"I don't know, sir. But it's obviously not a coincidence."

Kabei shook his head, staring at the cadaver, which had a massive injury to the back of its head. Had it been alone, Kabei would have suspected the injury was the result of a rock fall. As one of three, however, and one of a dozen who had been injured - Kabei needed to get to the bottom of what was happening.

"Did any of the injured ones say what happened?"

"No," replied Vect, succinctly. "Dead silent."

"Ask them again."

"I don't think they want to talk about it, sir," said Vect. Kabei cocked a brow in surprise.

"Why not? We can find out who did it, and maybe prevent it from happening again."

Vect looked uncomfortable.

"I…do not think they share your spirit of collaboration, sir."

Kabei stared back at Vect, confused. He couldn't understand what the Layamat was talking about.

"Fine. I'll ask myself then. Take me to them."

Kabei followed Vect to the shore, where a small boat carried the two out to a medical ship floating nearby. He hoped to build an on-site hospital soon, but it was still a long way from coming to fruition. As he boarded the ship, and made his way to the rooms where the Primitives were being kept, his mind dwelled on the three dead, and he wondered if he would be quick enough to save the next one.

Entering the room, Kabei rushed to the side of the first Primitive he could see. Their arm was wrapped in a cast, and so were their legs.

"I'm so sorry, my friend, what happened? Who has done this to you?" asked Kabei, gravely concerned. To his shock, the only response he got was a glare from the Primitive.

"I fell," they said, gritting their teeth.

Kabei registered only confusion.

"You…fell?" asked the Matoran, confused. He knew fully that this was not the result of a fall, and that this person was attacked. He simply needed a name, a perpetrator, and he could put this to rest. The Primitive nodded.

"No… No, you didn't," said Kabei. "I know you were attacked. Did you see who it was? Could you identify them?"

The Primitive kept their mouth shut, and Kabei began to grow desperate.

"Please," he begged, "you must tell me!"

The Primitive kept their eyes locked forward and their lips sealed. Meanwhile, a voice came from behind Kabei.

"They're all that way," said Vect, finally entering the room. "Tight-lipped."

Kabei glanced between the two figures.

"What would you have me do, Vect?" Kabei finally asked. "I need to stop this. It can't happen again."

Vect sighed.

"I don't know, sir. I could reassign some units to provide additional security and keep their eyes out, but that's not very proactive. If you want to get to the bottom of this, though, I don't see any way to coerce an unwilling being into talking that doesn't involve force."

Kabei shook his head.

"No. That I won't allow. You will not torture them."

"I don't mean to. But there are ways of acquiring information through punitive measures-"

"Vect, I'm trying to prevent them from getting hurt; I can't really do that by hurting them."

"Then I'm afraid I'm at a loss, sir. Any other options-"

The two were interrupted by the footfall of a layamat soldier rushing to meet them.

"Undermarshall! It's the Primitives - they've started a riot!"

Both Kabei and Vect's eyes widened.

"Oh Karzahni," grumbled Vect, angrily. "Are they armed?"

"Only with picks and shovels, but there are blasting charges down there, and they're likely to steal weapons from any of our men that fall in the field-"

"Alright. Prioritize defense on the blasting charge depot, and the machinery. Sir, is the tunnel in any danger of collapse?" Vect asked to Kabei.

"No, it's too well-reinforced now. They'd need the blasting charges."

"Good. Work outwards, recall scout teams to suppress the major routes out of the valley. Escape attempts are to be stopped - lethally if needed."

"No!" shouted Kabei. "I forbid it!"

"Sir - this is a matter of security. It falls within my jurisdiction. The Makuta have strict orders that this project is to be kept secret, and I cannot allow any leaks of personnel. If the only way to stop an escape attempt is by force, my men will take it."

"There's no other way?"

"Not unless you don't mind your precious tunnel collapsing."

Kabei gritted his teeth and rocked back and forth nervously. What do I do, what do I do, he thought.

"Okay. Fine. Force is authorized - but please make it known that I want them captured alive if possible, and they are to be fired upon only as a last resort. Am I understood?"

Vect glared.

"I will relay the message," he said, coldly.

The riot lasted under two hours in total. It cost a total of nine guards, and fourty three Primitives and Oropi who were gunned down while attacking their captors or attempting escape. Being told the details made Kabei once again feel a sickness in his core.

The survivors now knelt on their knees, returned to their bunkhouses, and Kabei walked through the artificial caves beneath them with a disheartened air. The atmosphere felt thick with grief.

As Kabei walked, he could see dead Primitives scattered around the area. Blood pooled on the ground, occasionally leaving tracks of footprints where beings ran through it. Kabei approached the nearest, and gingerly sat down on a rock nearby, watching them.

"I don't understand, Vect…" Kabei said, quietly. Vect stood behind him, arms crossed. "I'm trying. I'm trying so hard, and it's…things are worse than ever."

Vect remained silent, likely as a consequence of being not particularly skilled in responding to emotional outbursts. Kabei fell to his knees, collapsed in the ground alongside the nearest body.

"I don't know what to do…"

Kabei suddenly felt a hand grab his arm, and as he looked up, he scrambled back in fear. The nearest body had moved - they were still alive.

"Vect! Get a doctor!" Kabei shouted, still in shock at the movement. The being was covered in blood, and one of their legs was broken. It was easy to mistake them for a corpse, and nearly impossible to rationalize that they still lived, were it not for the fact that their chest still rose and fell with each breath. Vect nodded, equally surprised, rushing towards the surface tunnel. Meanwhile, Kabei reached down, grabbing the Primitive's hand. He observed that the being wore a translation collar.

"It's going to be okay, you'll be taken care of," said Kabei, trying to soothe the being. They reached upwards towards him, and Kabei thought he saw the sparkle of hope in their eyes. A second later, his vision was clouded by blood, as the being spat at his face.

Stumbling back, Kabei fell onto the ground once again, disgustedly wiping his Kanohi clean.

"Why!" he shouted, angrily. "Why do you do this! I'm trying to help you, I'm trying to take care of you! I'm trying to save you!"

The being's voice was weak, but despite their frail shell, they were a picture of defiance.

"Fuck you," they said, coughing blood. "We're gonna kick you off this fucking planet. You're so screwed."

Kabei, shocked, remained glued to the ground, watching the Primitive weakly flail on the ground. A few minutes passed in silence before a duo of medics arrived, joined by Vect. They loaded the Primitive onto a stretcher, and carried them towards the surface. Kabei watched them leave, with sadness in his eyes.

"They hate me, Vect," he said, defeated.

"No, sir. I don't think they hate you," Vect said, sighing. Kabei looked at him with confusion. The undermarshall continued. "They hate us. We've enslaved them, beaten them, and we've killed many. You could give them all the food and translation devices you wanted, I don't think it would change their opinion of us. We're still their enemy."

Kabei looked down at the ground and despaired.

"And what of them murdering each other?"

Vect sighed again, and crouched down to the ground, meeting Kabei's eye level, though the two did not share a gaze.

"When I was a Turcopelier, I helped invade Zakaz. That was in the…second universe. It went well, we had help; a lot of Skakdi joined the Brotherhood then, and turned against their brothers and sisters."

Kabei listened, wondering why Vect had chosen to bring up such a story at this time.

"Once we conquered Zakaz, we moved southward, and headed for Carapar's kingdom. We didn't bother leaving behind much of a garrison on Zakaz. Well, a month later, the Skakdi revolted. They retook the island in a week, butchered all of our forces. But they didn't stop killing there. The Skakdi that helped us - that sold out their siblings - the rest of the Skakdi remembered. They hunted them down, and they killed them too. Collaborators, they called them. It didn't matter that they were the same species; they had helped the enemy, and they had to die."

Kabei's face fell into his hands.

"But the Primitives with the collars aren't helping us - no more than any of the other ones are!"

"You know that. The rest of the Primitives don't. All they see is their brothers and sisters getting special treatment from us and talking to us in a language they don't understand. Is it really that bizarre that they would react the way they did?"

Kabei nodded, finally understanding. The two fell into silence.

"So it's my fault, then," said Kabei, despondent. Vect shrugged.

"No. You couldn't have foreseen it. I didn't. Besides, they're just slaves. We can get more."

Kabei ignored Vect's casual cruelty, and tried to stay faithful to his vision. He meant to do good - and this failure would not destroy that dream.

"Then we'll have to fix this. I don't know how, but…we're going to make sure this doesn't happen again, and we're gonna keep on rolling out the collars."

Vect cocked a brow in surprise, and Kabei continued, his sadness now replaced by a fire.

"We're going to turn them around. They may hate us, but I refuse to believe that we cannot repair things. It's never too late - do you understand?"

"Not really, sir," said Vect, in an honest tone, but Kabei ignored him.

"The Primitives and the Brotherhood will know peace, and I will do everything in my power to ensure it."