Titans Ch. 03

The evening meal passed uneventfully, Alex spent a lot of it discussing previous battles with Thrak and the dwarves in an attempt to give them a better understanding of how he was used to fighting while learning of the tactics this army usually employed. Gelb was still leafing through parchments and taking notes, barely looking away to eat a mouthful of stew. Eventually, they all bid one another goodnight, and settled in for the night; Talia curled up against Alex in the small bed. Once again, he drifted off into a natural sleep and began to dream.

Alex found himself stood in the same cosy, wooden interior as he had been before he woke up the previous night, facing a wall. Anna's voice chimed in from behind him.

"You sure know how to leave a girl hanging, captain," she said, in a tone of forced humour. She sounded almost... nervous?

Alex turned around to see Anna sat on an antique looking desk, leaning back with her legs seductively crossed. She was dressed in a matching set of lacey, black and red underwear. She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them the other way, black silk stockings held up by suspenders sliding against each other. A toned stomach rippled as she shifted her position to hold herself up with musclebound arms. Her blond hair spilling across broad shoulders.

"Jeez, Anna," Alex averted his gaze, "What the hell?"

"Pretty neat, huh? I worked out you can change what you're wearing by thinking about it," she said, definitely nervous now, "Give it a try yourself."

Alex thought for a moment, picturing his casual-wear. A pair of slacks and a t-shirt, covered with a navy blue jacket. He looked down at himself, and sure enough saw the familiar outfit, just as he remembered it.

"Okay, that's pretty cool," he admitted, "Why the lingerie though?"

Anna stood and began stalking towards him. Alex still didn't look directly at her, the amount of bare flesh on display was distracting to say the least. The covered areas somehow even more so.

"Well what did you think was going to happen after last night?" she demanded, playfully, "You've got pretty shitty timing, but don't think I didn't notice you start to kiss me back before you disappeared."

Anna pressed herself against his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her breasts shifted within their minimal covering, he felt erect nipples rub against his bicep. Her lips brushed the side of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

"Dammit Anna," he muttered, "You know full well we're not allowed."

"Who's going to know?" she whispered into his ear, he felt his knuckles brush against her belly and his fingers twitched, "We're in a dream, and even outside the dream nobody knows or cares about that rule."

"We're more closely related than if you were my sister," he craned his neck even further away and tried to control his growing arousal, "Not to mention I raised you like a daughter."

"Fuck, Alex," Anna chuckled dryly, her breath tickling the hairs behind his ear, "All the incest fantasies rolled into one, huh?" She kissed his cheek. "I've been a bad girl, daddy," she moaned.

Alex's shoulder jerked involuntarily, dislodging her chin.

"What?" she asked, disappointed.

His shoulder jerked again.

"I don't..." he began, confused.

"Oh no you don't, you fucker," Anna swore at him, pounding painfully on his chest, "Not now! Don't you dare, DON'T YOU DA-"

Alex awoke with a jolt and the stench of alcohol. It was still dark, a soldier stood above him, shaking his shoulder; Alex dimly recognised him as one of the two that had tried to stop him from entering the camp a couple of days ago. The taller one. Talia gently stirred against him as rain gently pattered against the canvas above their heads.

"Hey," he slurred down at the mech pilot, "You awake?"

"Yeah?" Alex groaned, groggily.

"Great," the soldier grinned, "You done?"

"Done?"

"Yeah, don't hog the bitch," he spat, "Others've got needs too y'know."

Alex's blood ran hot. He took a few deep breaths through clenched teeth, then got to his feet, drawing himself up to full height. The soldier grunted, then made to move past him, unfastening his belt. Alex stopped him with an iron hand on the shoulder.

"Get out," he said flatly, "Now."

"Fuck off," the soldier attempted to shrug off his hand, but was unable to break the grip, "You can't keep her all to yourself."

"I don't intend to," said Alex, thinking of Elizabeth, "But I will never, ever, share her with someone like you."

He swung his fist, striking out in anger at the drunken soldier.

"There are two kinds of blows," he remembered his instructor telling him, "While sparring you never strike at full strength. Whether you like them or not, you respect your training partners and you'll never hit them as hard as you can. Should you find yourself needing to unlock that bit of extra power, the key is to give it meaning."

Alex's punch hit like a battering ram, every ounce of his incredible strength slamming his knuckles into the soldier's jaw. There was a sickening crack, and the man fell to the floor and stopped moving. He heard Talia gasp behind him. She was sat up in the bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. He unclenched his fist, feeling the buzz of adrenaline in his fingers. The webbing of the cast has split with the impact, he pulled it off and then crouched next to the prone form and pressed two fingers to his neck. There was still a pulse, which meant he was just unconscious. That made things easier. He got up, pulling on his thin underclothes.

"It's alright," he said softly, grabbing the unconscious soldier by the collar, "Go back to sleep, I'll handle this."

Alex dragged the limp form out of the tent, not looking at Talia. He listened for a moment, getting damp as the fine drizzle coated his body. Picking out the sounds of drunken revelry in the quiet campsite, he set off in that direction. As he suspected, a group of soldiers in matching uniforms were gathered around a campfire not too far off, drinking and telling jokes in too-loud voices. They fell silent as he approached. Alex hauled the soldier upright, his head still lolling about and his arms and legs hanging flaccidly.

"One of yours?" he demanded.

One of the partiers stood and sized up to him.

"The fuck did you do to him?" he yelled, spittle flying.

Alex heaved the body towards him, forcing him to catch the unconscious form.

"The elf is off limits," Alex said, walking away, "Spread the word."

Alex didn't feel like sleeping again, so as soon as he was out of sight he set off at a brisk jog. The shifting purple tendrils crossing the sky in between the clouds, reminding him just how far away he was from home. After a few minutes he broke into a run, beating back his turbulent thoughts through the exertion. He wasn't going all-out; he could keep this pace up for hours if needed.

Around and around the campsite Alex ran, losing track of time until the sun began to peek over the horizon and he was drenched in sweat and rain. He found a cold bucket of water and a wash-cloth sitting outside someone's tent, and did his best to clean up. The freezing liquid evaporated off his hot skin, forming little trails of vapor in the dawn air as the rain finally began to stop.

When Alex returned to his tent, Talia was waiting for him, looking concerned. Without a word, she embraced him. He accepted it silently. A small, warm dampness on his neck betrayed the single tear that rolled down the elf's cheek.

"Thank you for doing that," she murmured, "But you know they won't let you get away with it, right?"

Alex nodded, his gaze locked on the fabric of the tent behind Talia. He followed a line of stitching; a previous repair that didn't look like it would hold too well if it got windy. He'd have to remember to fix that, if he ever got the chance. They stood together for a long time.

The clanking of armor drawing closer eventually made them separate and look about. Elizabeth was marching down the path towards them with a stern look on her face. She wore what looked to be her full regalia - the same greens and browns as usual, but with an emblem of a tree emblazoned on her chest. A couple of small medals, a bronze star and a silver teardrop, pinned to her chest.

"I didn't think they'd send you," Alex said to her as she drew near.

"As of this morning I'm your superior officer, which makes me responsible for you," she scowled, "You broke his bloody jaw."

"Did he mention why?" Alex asked, pulling Talia close.

Elizabeth's eyes flicked between the two of them.

"I can guess," the major sighed, her expression softening, "Goodness knows he deserved it. But it's your word against him and his friends; they don't care what Talia has to say," she looked to her friend with an apologetic smile, "Sorry."

"It's alright," Talia whispered into Alex's shoulder.

Alex gently pried her away, then stood to attention.

"I'm guessing you're here to take me somewhere?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded stiffly.

"Give me a minute to get my armor on," his shoulders drooped, "I'll be right out."

With that, Alex turned and disappeared into his tent. A yellowed tooth lay in a tiny puddle of blood next to the bed. He hadn't noticed that last night. He stared at the grim sight for a moment, then mechanically got dressed. All the weapons and pouches were left on the desk. He didn't even notice Talia walk in behind him.

"Good luck," she said, taking his hand and holding it until he looked at her, "If they make you leave, I'm coming with you," she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead, "I suspect I'm not the only one."

"It won't come to that," Alex said, taking her other hand and kissing her on the lips. All the tension seemed to fade away with that contact, at least temporarily. He stepped back, steeling himself.

"I'm ready," he called out, stepping through the tent flap.

Elizabeth escorted him along the familiar path towards the central clearing. Alex lay a hand on the leg of his mech as they walked around it; though he wasn't sure why. Around them the camp was beginning to stir, reminding him that he had yet to have breakfast. The war table was unusually quiet, perhaps because of the early hour, but Elizabeth led him around the back to the tent where he had registered his squad the previous morning. Inside, the older gentleman - Silas, if he remembered correctly - stood waiting.

"So," Silas said sharply as the pair entered, "What are we to do with you then?"

Alex opened his mouth to respond, but was immediately shot down.

"Don't answer," he hissed, pacing up and down, "Assault is a serious charge, but we have a variety of punishments available to us."

The old man leant on his desk, peering at Alex over the top of his spectacles.

"Our first call is usually the removal of privileges, but we are aware that you do not take advantage of most of them anyway, nor would you care if they were stripped from you. So, option one removed."

Silas stood again, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You were, of course, correct yesterday," the clerk admitted, "We would much prefer not to lose you, so dishonorable discharge is also not an option."

He walked around the table, coming face to face with the captain and craning his neck upwards to stare into his eyes.

"Flogging!" Silas spat, Alex strained not to flinch at the outburst, "A useful, multipurpose tool. Keeps soldiers in line without removing their ability to fight. Seems like a good idea, but I've dealt with your kind before."

Alex stood impassively, waiting for the verdict, as Silas walked around him. Elizabeth was off to one side, wearing an impressive poker face.

"Yes," Silas continued, "After deliberating with the general and the senior officers, we all agree that your disregard for your own wellbeing would render such a punishment pointless. Which has led us to this decision," he stopped in front of Elizabeth and looked to her, "Major Swift, you will report back here in thirty minute's time for fifty lashes. Officers only to be in attendance, as befits your heritage."

Elizabeth's face immediately went burning red, and Alex balled his fist.

"She did nothing wrong!" he yelled.

"I am aware, captain," Silas rounded on him, "But I am also aware that there is nothing we can do to you to keep you in line. Should you break order again, your subordinates will be punished in your stead. Should you attempt to leave, everyone you have spoken to since arriving will be whipped until they curse your name. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes sir," Alex said between clenched teeth.

If looks could kill, then Silas' very ashes would have been destroyed under the force of the captain's glare. Elizabeth simply gaped, flushed red from embarrassment, anger, or perhaps both.

"Dismissed!" Shouted the clerk, sitting down hard behind his desk and scribbling furiously onto a sheaf of parchment.

The two soldiers left the tent in a huff. Alex took a couple of deep, calming breaths that weren't as effective as he hoped, then turned to Elizabeth.

"I'm so sorry," he said, mostly to himself.

"You didn't know," said Elizabeth, staring at her feet, "We'll talk about it later."

They made their way back to the central clearing in an angry silence. The area which had been quiet and empty only minutes ago was now bustling. All the senior officers and dignitaries that were a near permanent fixture around the command table were instead clustered about an ornate carriage pulled by white horses. Something about the coach seemed to trigger recognition in Elizabeth, and she stopped in her tracks. Alex was turning to ask her what was going on, when he spotted a flash of blond hair framing a familiar face.

"You have gotta be shitting me," he muttered, then took off towards the crowd as fast as he could.

Behind him, he heard Elizabeth calling out, but he no longer cared. She was dressed in medieval looking finery, and carried herself with an unfamiliar haughtiness, but it was definitely her.

Alex came running up behind her and clapped his hand on her shoulder.

"Anna?" He breathlessly asked.

He had just enough time to see a face far older than his Lieutenant before someone tackled him to the floor. There was uproarious shouting and outraged exclamation. He felt heavy mail armor press him into the rain-softened ground as more and more guards piled onto his body. Then suddenly, a voice like a stiletto cut through the noise.

"Leave him."

One by one, the guards stood and backed off a few paces. One of them stopped, and seemed to contemplate giving him a kick, but a mix between fear and better judgement stopped her.

Standing over the prone captain was the woman he had run to. Her face was Anna's, but with many more lines and wrinkles. If she had been human, he'd have said it was his subordinate officer aged thirty years; he didn't know how to translate that into a mech pilot's unusual aging process. She had extended a hand towards him, equally aged and adorned with expensive looking rings. He stared at it.

"When the Empress offers you a hand," growled the fat general, who stood off to one side, "It is wise to take it, boy."

"It's quite alright General," said the Empress, with a smile that didn't reach her eyes as they bored into Alex, "I've known this young man since he was very small."

Even her voice sounded like Anna; though somehow colder, and harsher. Reluctantly, Alex took the offered help, and was pulled to his feet with a vice-like grip and surprising strength of arm.

"Let me get a closer look at you."

The Empress smiled thinly, her other hand coming up and pressing to the back of his head, turning him this way and that. There was a metallic clink the set his teeth on edge as one of her rings tapped against his socket. Her fingers ran over it until they reached his serial number.

"It's been so long," she said, more loudly now though still lacking in any emotion, "Shall we walk a while and catch up?"

The tone of her voice made it clear this wasn't an offer, and in any case she grabbed his arm firmly and led him like a mule away from the gathered crowd. The guards, Alex noted, followed at a respectful distance.

"You aren't Anna," Alex said simply.

"Oh? How can you be so sure?" The Empress asked, seemingly amused by the situation.

"Besides being much older, and nothing like her in temperament, Anna didn't know me when I was small. She's younger than me."

"Nothing like her in temperament?" She gave a melodramatic gasp, "Well, they simply don't make them like they used to."

Alex planted his feet, forcing the woman dragging him along to stop as well.

"Who are you?" He asked.

A burning anger crept into her eyes and her jaw set.

"We may never have met, number eleven, but don't you dare try and convince me that they don't still tell stories about us. You know who I am."

Alex looked away, unable to hold her gaze.

"I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to assume. You're number two. The second ever mech pilot. The basis for all the female pilots that followed."

"The original, and the best," a predatory smile spread across her face, "and don't you forget it. Who's in charge these days anyway? Bureaucrats managed to wrestle command away from the pilots yet?"

"General Ulster is our current commander," Captain Murray said carefully, not wanting to give too much away.

The Empress laughed.

"Little Percy five is a General now? A century can change even us I suppose; when I last saw you, you were a number in a table titled 'Potential future assets' and look at how you turned out." She looked him up and down, and winked.

Alex pushed off the discomfort.

"Why are you even here?"

"Well, when I heard rumors of a metal giant controlled by a mysterious soldier, I couldn't resist seeing for myself. It's been a very long time since I saw a working mech."

"You can't use it," Alex blurted out quickly, "The new neural hubs will fry your implants if you try. A precaution to stop the A.I. from spreading."

Number two quickly schooled her face into a look of disgust, but the moment's hesitation spoke volumes of her true feelings.

"I wouldn't want to anyway. The newer models may be powerful war-machines, but I was a god striding over battlefields in Prometheus. It simply wouldn't be the same."

"As you say," Alex was able to meet her eyes again, the force of her stare now broken, "May I go now?"

"I suppose," she finally relinquished the death-grip on his arm, "I have business to discuss with the General."

The Empress turned and walked away.

"Farewell, eleven. Win this damned war for me."

Alex set off down the path to his camp, flexing his arm gently to try and restore blood flow. The advanced armor could absorb huge impacts without issue, but constant pressure was a completely different matter. The Empress had made sure he knew she was aware of his weaknesses. Elizabeth approached, looking cross.

"Well that was stupid," she said.

"Yep," said Alex, simply.

"Care to explain why you're already trying to get me flogged to death?"

Alex winced. He hadn't thought of that.

"She looked like my missing lieutenant. Exactly like my missing lieutenant. I was mistaken," he looked over to where the Empress now stood, talking with the general.

"Okay, sure," Elizabeth sighed, "Your lieutenant looks like the empress, that's a hell of a coincidence."

"Not a coincidence," Alex looked back to Elizabeth, "It would be weirder if they didn't look identical. Remember I told you I was grown in a vat?"