Work Text:
“Let them have the Great Machine. They deserve it,” Mithrax said tiredly, patiently, to all the dregs surrounding him. It brought about a loud upheaval of noise from all the dregs, from indignation and confusion to outright anger and disgust. However, Mithrax just sat back languidly in his chair, resting his lower arms on rests to the side and stared ahead, waiting for it to quiet down. Once it returned to some semblance of order, he began to explain himself.
“They have fought and died, doing both many times for the sake of the Great Machine. Many of the best light-bearers stand proudly in the glow of the Great Machine, a feat we could only hope to aspire to,” he explained, in a stern but kind voice. The dregs looked at him with confusion but understanding began to dawn the longer they thought about it.
One dreg, Paskas, began by asking, “Why have we been forgotten by the Great Machine, but the many races of this system are brought back again and again?” She hoped to understand more of Mithrax’s thoughts on the subject, so that she could understand why he helped the light-bearers as he did. She aspired to be a vandal soon, and thought that maybe, if she engaged in thought with her captain, she might one day soon be given the honor of growing back her limbs.
“We cannot even begin to understand the thinking of the Great Machine, but we know that once one has been chosen, it is their duty to fulfill their role they have been given. Maybe one day, we will be blessed with the gift of the Great Machine, but until then, we help the light-bearers in their endeavors against the agents of the Dark,”
“This,” Mithrax explained, “is our lot in life since the Great Machine left us long ago. We must not forsake it as then the Darkness will surely enter into our lives and destroy us.”
The dregs grumbled but didn’t disagree outright with their captain, knowing that to do so would most likely result in not gaining the right to grow back their limbs for much longer. Mithrax was not a mean captain, far from it, but he still wielded his power to keep the dregs and vandals under his command in line like a surly fist.
Mithrax then stood, coming to his full height while he stretched his four arms and back from sitting for too long. He moved through the room swiftly, coming quickly to the entrance, where he surveyed the stormy seas of Titan. The dregs stared after their captain, wondering what he was doing, when suddenly he spoke, loud enough for all the dregs to hear.
“We will try to make contact with a light-bearer, that they may know we are peaceful and wish to help them in their crusade.”
“ I will deliberate on how we will do this alone.”
“Leave me, all of you,” he boomed, sending the dregs, haphazardly running and jumping over each other, from the room.
He continued to stare out at the sea, watching the large beast of the depths rising and sinking with the waves. Slowly, he turned and walked back to his chair, where he slowly sat down and put his upper arms under his chin, raging a silent war in his thoughts.
Outside, the near constant rain slowed to a drizzle and the sea roared on.