So, here we are.

Mark shielded his eyes from the strong rays of the twin suns.

He took in a breath of fresh air, smelling the exotic taste of it. It truly had been a long time.

He stood just outside one of the minor exits of the Long Glaive clan's mothership.

He didn't want to be noticed, after all word would immediately spread, and it wouldn't take long before the Fire Skull clan would take notice.

Not that it mattered anyway, for Kyiv would soon receive his collection of skulls alongside his note and computer wrist.

The honorable matron, who's name he learned was The'kith, hadn't contacted his own matron.

Mark knew that he was pulling a dick move... he needed time though, he needed to be alone.

The time he had spent in the forced isolation had changed him.

While a part of him was happy to be back, another wasn't. The nostalgic memories made him smile, but they were still not enough to cover the sadness that hid itself underneath his composed facade.

Mark knew not of the exact location he was in, but he could tell that it was one of the planetary docking areas, and soon enough he was able to see a large holographic map to determine his position.

After that, he used his smaller frame to duck under and in between the crowds. He had fetched a coat and he had wrapped it around his upper body in an effort to conceal his identity.

He had to get to one of the free spaces, and he had to move fast, for he knew that many of the yautja surrounding him didn't particularly like his race, and would no doubt try to kill him, regardless of he was affiliated with a clan.

Luckily, the Festival of Life was in full swing, so the general mood was positive and he managed to avoid confrontations, safe for a few glances.

He used the minor streets, picking the most deserted to swiftly get to his intended destination.

The longer he was in the inhabited area, the more anxious he felt. Frustration had become his only companion. He sped up his pace, the number of homes diminishing as he walked forward.

Soon, he found himself facing the amazonian like jungle.

Mark felt the tension, the irresistible urge to be free; he stilled, turning around he pulled the coat down from his head, allowing him to properly look back at inhabited expanse of civilization.

A couple of tears broke through the dams of his eyes: he was going away... it was for the best.

Mark hissed in pain as the sharp ledge of the rock cut his hand, ignoring the flair of hurt, he hoisted himself up, rolling back to his feet.

He cradled his bleeding hand in his other palm.

He sighed, already thinking of making the disinfectant so to not let it fester.

He looked over the view of the mountain he was on, admiring the sunset and the scenery. It still left him breathless, even now.

God, this was so much different compared to that other planet, h-

Mark found himself back in the hive, surrounded by the demonic he creatures.

His heart rate skyrocketed, and he felt short of air. Tripping, he fell back against the wall, unable to stop the hyperventilation.

He needed.... he needed to...- Mark threw his head back, his ears registration the nasty crack it made upon impact.

That snapped him out of the anxiety attack.

Taking large gulps of air, he slowly raised a pair of shaking fingers to the back of his numb head.

When he brought them back, they were covered in red. Still trembling, he got up, staggering to the entrance of the natural cave.

He fell back to the cold stone, small whimpers escaping his dry throat. Mark placed the sharp end of the dagger against his arm, and dragged it across, opening the arteries beneath the skin.

He repeated the action a couple of more times, sighing in relief.

This was the only he could deal with the panic, the anxiety. He knew that black bags were present beneath his eyes, they were the result of sleepless nights.

His dreams were plagued by memories of the past... of the hive...

He still felt it... the screeching, the hisses. They were still here, even when he checked over every dark corner, they still followed him like a plague.

He sat against the hard slab of rock, hiccups taking over his frame as his eyes spilled out their watery content. He cried, he... he was afraid... no, he wasn't enough, he wasn't good enough.

He yelled, punching the wall, not caring of his broken knuckles. When his explosive adrenaline rush ended, he slid back down to the floor, his wails echoing in the dark room.

Mark's nose soon became stuffy, and his throat raw; but he was unable to stop the feelings, the emotions.

He didn't know how he could do it, this wasn't right... he wasn't supposed to even be here, he had failed! He hadn't made it!

It was night by the time it took him to fully calm down. He felt empty, like a shell; there was no appeal to anything anymore. There was only pain.

The silence was comforting, so were the chilly winds that blew across his exposed torso, cooling the raging pain present in his being.

Up here, there was solitude, he found a small sort of comfort, a measure of peace.

He closed his tired eyes, slowing his breathing.

Vibrations started to traverse the ground, he opened his eyes, and looked in confusion as small pieces of rubble began to shake.

He let out a gasp at the sight of a quickly approaching scout ship... and it was heading right at him!

Mark turned around and jumped over ceiling of the cave, digging his bleeding fingertips into the cold stone, climbing higher up the mountain.

The ship circled around him, the navy seal realized it would be pointless to hide here, and so he started to slide down the side of the cliff, using his knife to stop or decrease his descent.

He jumped to one tree, landing on one of the thick branches. He sprinted across the plants, ignoring the exhaustion in his legs. He ran, ran like his life depended on it.

Below him, the howls of hunting hounds signalized his position, "Fuck! Fuck!" he stepped onto another branch and it broke, causing him to drop from the tall height.

When he landed, he heard a crack and he screamed, grasping his shattered leg, he heard the growling of the approaching hounds; Mark dragged himself over the muddy terrain, flecks of blood present in his vision.

It was useless though, and he was surrounded on all sides.

He growled like a feral animal, yelling, cursing his captors to hell. They forced him into a cell on the scout ship chaining him to the metal posts.

Mark dangled there, his hope dwindling with every passing minute.

He leaned his head down, 'Why? Why can't I be left alone...'

He didn't bother to look up when he was unchained, he was unresponsive so they dragged him to another room, where he was sat on a comfortable chair.

He heard the two guards that had held him walk back towards the entrance, then he heard a new set of people march in the room.

Only one approached him.

Mark was staring at the floor, so he could make out the decorative armor of an elite arbitrator walking around to stand in front of him.

The figure crouched to stay near his height.

"Mark?" Kyiv whispered, not believing what he was seeing.

He reached out to grasp his shoulder, but upon touch the human recoiled away. He growled and buckled to get out of the hold, the anxiety returning, clawing at his chest.

"Mark, Mark stop!" Kyiv begged, a couple other arbitrators moved forward to help him restrain the trashing human.

The marine felt an acute pain shoot in his chest, and the world fell dark.

He woke up screaming, feeling the acidic blood of the kiande amedha burning his skin.

His sweaty body trembled in shock, trying to register what was going on. He coughed, his throat devoid of any sort of refreshment.

He was unable to see, he felt nauseous.

A warm hand made contact with his neck, Mark flinched away in fear, a whimper escaping his lips.

Instead of receiving pain, he felt his head being laid on a comfy surface, that same hand started to softly caress his hair.

A low thrum started to emanate from the individual that was holding him, steadily increasing in power; Mark felt comforted by this calming sound, he felt... safe.

Tears leaked out his eyes and he fell asleep again.

Y'rall didn't stop her purring once the ooman stopped trembling, if anything, she made it even louder.

She observed the student of her lifemate; she had seen him on a couple of occasions, but this was the first time they were together.

"What ails you young one?" she silently asked. He was like a pup, even if she knew that his behavior was involuntary, this triggered some maternal instincts.

She could tell by looking at him that he was truly exhausted, and in pain.

She heard her mate enter the room; he came and sat down next to her. "How is he?" "His slumber is cursed by the horrific visions. He suffers, even in his sleep."

Kyiv sighed, looking at Mark, "At least he is at peace, thanks to you." he said, gripping her hand with his own.

"I did some research, it would seem that he is affected by what oomans a call panic attack. He finds himself reliving painful memories, and is unable to breathe... and if the situation is dire enough then it leads to cardiac arrest."

"That was what happened earlier?" "Sei."

They both turned to look back at the soldier when he coughed.

He groaned, feeling sick; he could tell that he had a fever because of the cold that surrounded him. Groaning again, he pulled the heavy blanket around him tighter.

'Wait, a blanket?' Mark slowly cracked his eyelids open, spotting Kyiv sitting next to him.

He tried to get up, but the arbitrator pushed him back down, "It's alright Mark, you're safe. Lay down and rest, you need to sleep." Kyiv reassured him.

He closed his eyes, fighting against the desire to recuperate much needed sleep, "I... I h-had..." he was silenced by Y'rall as she tenderly stroked his head.

Mark's orbs widened in alarm as he realized that he was in the lap of someone.

He briefly struggled to sit up, but found out that he was hopelessly outmatched by the strength of the female.

Letting out a barely audible sigh, he stopped his movements and instead focused on calming down.

The action was helped by the purring of both yautja.

In no time, he was sleeping again. "The gods willed this, they deemed Mark honorable to survive..." "But he was left stranded on that pauk-de planet for to long. I am surprised and relieved that he has not lost his sanity; to be left alone on a planet infested with Kiande Amedha for that long..." she shuddered at the thought, "Only bad bloods deserve such a punishment."

He nodded his agreement, letting silence briefly rain in the healing quarters.

"Our honored matriarch has been notified of his retrieval, I expect she will want to meet him, and I also expect the high eldress to accompany her, possibly with the high priestess as well."

"Then I shall prepare our dwelling so that it may be suitable for their rank."

He brushed a clawed hand against her thigh, earning himself a small chuckle; "What would I do without you my mate?"