Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hekarro usually wouldn’t usually give too much thought to one of the clan Commanders dying beyond mourning the loss, just let soldiers of the clan challenge each other for the right to lead. And he was even less inclined to care in this instance since this particular Commander had been a thorn in his side for years.

But the two soldiers in front of him, members of Tekotteh's squad, were making a racket that he'd been killed dishonorably. And Hekarro couldn't very well ignore who they were pointing fingers at; the Chaplain of the clan, his most experienced and best Marshal, his Champion, the Pit Masters, and surprisingly, a Lowland soldier.

Most of whom had a known, and honestly, reasonable grievance with the Sky Clan Commander.

“These are grievous accusations to bring against hardworking and loyal soldiers.” He rumbled, cutting off one of the men in the middle of his tirade. “For what reason do you call these charges?”

“All of them hated Tekotteh. Simply because he was a strong and capable leader who simply wanted the best for his clan.” The first one waved over the small crowd of suspects.

Aloy snorted and Hekarro gave her a severe look.

“Go on.”

“You see how little they respect his memory.” The second soldier hissed in displeasure. “It was a conspiracy and they all played their parts.”

“Chaplain Gerrah had been bringing the Commander his meals for the last several weeks and supposedly counseling him. A fine excuse for why she'd been there. But on the night in question, he was seen, after she left, stumbling about outside of the Commander's quarters.”

“Then Erayyo and Virakk challenged him, for all the clan to hear for his supposed favoritism in how the pit is run. He was in no state to be fighting, but our brave squad leader, Tenakth to the core that he was, rose to the challenge. They used underhanded tactics and laid him low.”

The Pit Masters snarled at that accusation.

Hekarro held up a hand at them. “I will hear your version of events in a moment. Continue.”

“He got into the lift which had just finished bringing up Elizzu of Shark squad, and they had not yet deboarded. It was immediately after he went out of sight to the lift that his scream was heard. They must've been waiting for the opportunity to push him out.”

“What grievance would a Lowland soldier have with the Sky Clan Commander?” Hekarro asked.

“We weren't sure at first either. But we spoke to their sibling who has been living and training at the Bulwark. Elizzu is infatuated with Marshal Kotallo. They no doubt heard vicious rumors about what the Commander said about the Marshal and wanted to take revenge on his behalf.”

“And the Marshal himself and the Champion?” Hekarro asked.

“Ah yes. Perhaps the most terrible, cruel, and dishonorable actions of all these.” The first soldier sneered.

“As though it wasn't enough that the body of our leader, our Commander was laying broken and dead at the bottom of what remains of the Bulwark,” the second soldier shot Aloy and Kotallo a nasty look, “a boulder fell upon his body from a still unstable portion of the wall.”

“You say it was unstable and yet you dare to accuse my Marshal and my Champion?”

“They were seen leaving near where the boulder fell from fairly quickly after the tumbling was heard, my Chief.”

Hekarro sighed and quietly asked Natikka if she might bring him some water and Skybrush for the headache. It wasn't going anywhere if he was going to continue to put up with this.

“Chaplain Gerrah, report.” He said tiredly, waving the old woman forward.

“It is true, Chief, that I have been bringing the Commander his meals for a short time. Since Regalla's final attack, he has sought my advice more frequently and sharing a meal has been a good opportunity to do so. On the night in question, we shared a couple drinks as it was off duty hours and played a game of Strike. That boy forgets sometimes that I taught him the game and he grew agitated when I beat him soundly. He asked me to leave and I retired to my quarters for the night. I expected him to retire and sleep off the drink. I didn't expect him to be wandering about.” The Chaplain reported succinctly.

“Understood. Erayyo, Virakk.”

The Bulwark Pit Masters stepped forward and removed their masks so they could look the Chief in the eye properly. “We were manning the pit by the evening, in case anyone coming off duty wanted to go a quick round. The Commander approached us and started giving us hassle. He'd attempted to restrict use of the pit to certain squads that he favored.” Erayyo began, Virakk nodding silently by his side in agreement with the telling of events. “We told him since he was there to scold us for not being choosy with who we allowed to train, then he should challenge us and show us that he knew better. After a short round when I realized he wasn't fighting up to snuff and he got close enough to smell the liquor on him, I tried to stop the fight. But he wouldn't have that and he continued to come at me and Virakk until we wore him down to the dirt.”

“Elizzu, come forward.”

“Yes Chief.”

“Explain your version of events.”

“I was going to the Bulwark to visit a sibling of mine. It was late, I was tired and unwilling to do the climb up to the settlement, so I took the lift. I was just getting ready to get off when the Commander brushed past me, muttering. I didn't realize he was walking too fast until it was too late and he'd stepped completely off the other side of the lift.”

Hekarro studied the face for a moment before waving the soldier back amongst the accused.

“Aloy, Marshal Kotallo.”

Aloy stepped forward, the Marshal at her back. Her face was blazingly red, a curious thing when one is defending oneself against a murder charge.

“I… I… I don't want to explain this.” She said and looked up at Kotallo.

He gave her an indulgent smile and reeled her in under his arm. “Aloy agreed to my pledge, Chief. We were visiting the Bulwark and wanted to take a private moment to ourselves. Which, yes, we did in a quiet little alcove right near the broken opening. In the- um- vigor of our activities, we may have inadvertently knocked a few more of the Bulwark’s boulders loose. At which point, we determined it was probably best to seek the privacy and stability of the Marshals quarters.”

Aloy's face grew impossibly brighter as he spoke and once he was done, he dropped a few gentle kisses on her head.

“Very well. It seems a list of unfortunate circumstances lined up just perfectly to lay the Commander low.” Hekarro mused.

The Sky Clan soldiers began sputtering about injustice.

“The Commander lived a long life by our standards. And again, you have brought accusations against loyal soldiers who have always put forth for the best for your clan and for the tribe. They have given their version of events that line up with yours quite nicely. There are explanations for their whereabouts being near to the action of the evening. If you truly want to push the matter further, you can challenge them in the Arena yourselves.”

The Sky Clan soldiers gave the group a nervous glance. “No, my Chief. You are right of course.”

“Dismissed.” Hekarro ordered, the room clearing. “No more audience for today. I must take a rest.”

The guards saluted him as he wandered back to his quarters.

--

Tekotteh had been tense that day so when Gerrah suggested they turn Strike into a drinking game, he was full well on board. He had just forgotten how sneaky the old woman was. So he was fairly well drunk before she'd even taken a sip of her Blaze.

He yelled at her to leave and she did with the stoic grace she always seemed to carry. He considered going to sleep with his brain all abuzz. But he was too agitated, so he left his quarters and began prowling the settlement, looking for something to lay his ire upon.

The Pit Masters scabs.

He began chewing them out for not working harder with the strongest of their squads, the ones that would actually amount to proper soldiers. They didn't want to bend from their position that the pit should be open for any and all to train. And they challenged him to show him what they meant.

He ignored when they urged him to retire. He needed to win this. Needed to prove that he was still the Commander around her and that he was more than capable of putting a couple of scans in the dirt. He didn't last long. His footwork was sloppy and his dodges poorly timed with the Bulwark Blaze still coursing through his blood. His face went into the dirt.

He walked away, shamed and furious. Out. He needed out of the settlement. Away from the staring eyes and whispering lips. He would spend a few nights at a shelter, licking his wounds and then he would find a suitably large machine and bring home its heart to show that he was a fighter, a survivor.

He hardly paid any mind to the young soldier in the lift until their foot caught around his ankle and almost sent him falling out the other side. They caught the back of his chest armor and held him for a second.

“He's twice the man you ever were, even with only one arm.” They whispered. “And the Bulwark can't protect you from being pushed off of it.”

The hold on his armor released, dropping him off the lift. The ground met him much faster than he ever would have expected.

Pain was everywhere and all he knew until a deep, almost familiar rumbling sound came to his ears. In his drunken and pain delirious state, he wondered why that boulder seemed to be growing larger.

And then it hit him.