TRANSMISSION RECEIVED
...decrypting
streaming contents...
To the exiles once called the Samarran Raiders,
I am Adrian Thrax, son of Adrian Thrax the Bastard, who in turn is the son of Adrian Thrax, the tenth of his name, my grandfather and once liege of the land which is called Thrax.
I recovered my lands by right of conquest, the lands that should have been mine in the first place by the right of the blood in my veins. No thanks to that bastard father of mine, for he chose to follow a pack of misfits and good-for-nothings to a hellhole instead of protecting his wife and the child he put in her womb.
I have business with that man who sired me, and I have no more time. It took me a while to track your measly group which seem to enjoy hiding in narrow places and conspire.
Tell me where my father is, and don't stand between me and him when I push a dagger through his throat.
If Anu wills it, you'll be rewarded for your compliance.
He is seen straightening up in his seat, fiddling his pen between his fingers, then looking at (or through) the camera for up to 10 seconds without otherwise moving. Not blinking or making a sound. He suddenly looks down at his table, places his pen onto it and looks back at the camera.
"The Gods have a sense of humor, after all. And here I thought I'd never see anything like that face again. Indeed, I had already forgotten it. Very much alike, indeed. And not just in appearance, but in attitude as well. The air of arrogance that was so characteristic of him, follows you as well. Amazing. But I digress. You want to find your father."
"Well, that's going to be difficult, considering we dumped his headless carcass out of an airlock somewhere in Omicron Iota, to appease the divinities he insulted. I'm not sure where his head ended up even, I think one of the Raiders carried it around for a while, filthy creature. He's dead now too, most of them are."
"I'm sure that by now you realize the difficulties in tracking down your father, well, tracking down all of him, anyway. Not to mention that at this point there's no real neck to "push your dagger in", as you so aptly stated. But by all means, go for it, the Commune won't stand in the way of your quest."
"Though...if there's any actual sense in that Thrax head of yours, I'm sure that by now you would have realized what riches and opportunities Sirius holds, as compared to our beautiful, but backwater native land. Not to mention that getting back is practically suicide. Oops, did you know that? Unstable wormholes are called unstable for a reason, you know. Bad things can happen. Deadly things."
He sighs and then smiles for a moment, before returning to his blank expression.
"I guess you're stranded here, Adrian Thrax. But what good Samarran would deny shelter to a countryman in need. No Samarran, no Samarran indeed. And as it is, you're in need of shelter. It's a dog eat dog sector out there, you'll come to see. But we won't impose. If you need somewhere to lay down your head, give us a call. If you're not mad about your old man that is."
TRANSMISSION RECEIVED
...decrypting
streaming contents...
To the rogue called Bassam Hussaini,
No wonder you are exiles, afraid of a little hole, lacking confidence in Anu.
So, my father lost his head... He deserved it, for the tales of his misdeeds and atrocities are well spread throughout Samarra, only comparable to yours and the other one. But it is a shame I was not the one to take his life, and that I will not be able to bring back his rotten corpse back to my dome, as ancient custom demands.
This is all irrelevant. To be honest, I have not been completely open nor honest with you, yet. I needed to see what kind of a man you are myself, and you seem like a rational sort, albeit a vicious one, but at the very least not a barbarian like the stories suggest.
I have news for you, exiles. Samarra is dead, more so than it was before if you could believe it. The Temple is in ruins, and the Fortress is in shambles. I have the Cloister, but when I got there, the library was already burnt down and the books were used as fuel to warm the earlier occupants in cold nights. The history and teachings of Samarra are lost to us forever.
Not many of us remain, and those that still do barely cling to life. I'll skip the more gruesome details for now.
This situation is especially a thorn in my side because I just recently reclaimed my lands and restored my house, but they no longer hold any meaning. In this upheaval, everyone is packing up and salvaging every resource they can get their hands on, building ragtag vessels, storing food and water, and are readying for another migration. Lucky for us, the dead have left quite a lot behind for the few of us who survived.
This is Anu's reward for you. A chance to redeem yourselves, and a supply of people who have nothing and would do anything to survive. They need a new place to live, and could rely on good Samarrans like yourself, as you claim to be. But I suppose your tiny apartment would not suffice for the amount of guests you'd receive. If you can take advantage of this situation, maybe you'll no longer be forced to hide in dark and narrow places like cockroaches.
It might be time to rekindle some of the old stories, Bassam, and you have a chance to be a part of it. As the Temple once knew it, and maybe a so called prophet will, these people's minds are more receptive to silly stories and liberal invocations of Anu, compared to other methods which would involve brutality and conspiracy.
They might just need exactly that kind of an illusion to retain a healthy desire to survive.
Now, I am aware that this side of the hole works completely different compared to the other side, though some basic similarities like dogs eating other dogs seem to persist. I have to admit that things look quite complicated, yet I don't think being on Samarra right now is better than being on this side. If you become my friend, I can show you a few images, and I have no doubt you'll be impressed.
But we have to agree on a point, that I am not like my father at all, or I might push a dagger through your throat instead.
"Son of Thrax, how little you understand. In time, though, you'll come to see, in time."
"For now, the Commune will make an effort to aid the migrating children of Samarra. It will take a while, though I don't suppose that our compatriots have the vessels ready yet."
"In the meantime, we have to decide what to do with you specifically, Adrian Thrax. As I see it, there are two choices we can offer you. You can either become one of our operatives, and serve the will of Anu and the Great Work as the rest of us do."
"Or...you could remain formally unaffiliated, and serve as our eyes, ears and occasionally muscle, within the sector. Mingle with the masses, find out things that we can't, deceive, misdirect and murder all for the continuation of the Great Work."
"Whatever you decide, Son of Thrax, know that in the end you will be rewarded, you will regain the riches and holdings you lost, and so much more when the Great Work is complete."
"Whether or not you're like your father, remains to be seen, by the merit of the work you will perform for us."
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