Titans Ch. 01

Wow, was not expecting such a good response to the prologue! It should go without saying; if you haven't read that, click on my profile and find it there, it's only short. I've made the chapters longer, which means I don't have the 10 I promised, but I should be able to keep a regular posting schedule and I'm hoping you'll like the longer chapters. Let me know what you think.

Are you sitting comfortably?

*****

Major Swift awoke to the sound of birds chirping, and the sunlight streaming through the trees. Alex sat with his back to her, resting his chin on his knees. She cocked her head.

"Have you been up all night?" she asked.

Alex shrugged, looking over his shoulder at her.

"I don't need much sleep," he told her.

It was technically true, though he didn't tell her he had spent most of the night unconscious in the pilot seat of the mech while its sensors scanned the area for trouble.

Elizabeth stood up and stretched, pulling her top tight across her generous breasts and revealing her long, smooth legs, covered to just above the knee by a pair of cotton shorts. Her mussed up hair was framed perfectly by the morning light, and looked like a frozen flame. Despite his melancholy mood, Alex couldn't help but stare. It had been hard to make out beneath the many layers of clothes she had been wearing yesterday, but she had a soldier's physique.

Not a hint of fat covered her toned figure, save for the pair of mounds on her chest. He blushed and shook himself, but the major's deliberate teasing had done its job and lifted him out of his depression. It had been something of a running joke among the mech pilots that Captain Murray loved redheads with bedheads, and she was a spectacular one at that. Though she had no idea what the problem was, Elizabeth was glad to have helped. She smiled and went about getting ready for the journey.

Elizabeth covered herself once more in her armor. The ashes of the fire were scattered and all the loose items stowed in her pack. The furs they had slept on were rolled up and tied with a strip of leather. The shelter was scavenged for usable ropes, and then the component branches were left in a pile where they fell. Alex watched for the most part, lending a hand with heavy lifting but mostly keeping out of her way. She chatted away as she worked, informing him about the route they would take that day, explaining the lay of the land when it became clear he didn't know the landmarks she referenced. He felt himself transitioning from hopelessness to a grim sort of acceptance. If he was going to be stuck here for the rest of his long life, at least the company would be good.

Progress through the wood was slow, but before long the trees started to thin out and forest was replaced by grassland that stretched out over gentle, rolling hills.

"A day's march you said?" Alex asked.

Elizabeth nodded, pointing at a distant mountain.

"In that direction, on foot it took me from dawn to dusk on the way here."

"Let's see if we can make it before noon," Captain Murray grinned.

The luggage was all lashed to the right shoulder of the mech. Major Swift kicked off her boots and perched on the left shoulder, using the bundle of sleeping furs as a makeshift seat; her feet dangled down in front of the open cavity where Alex sat.

Nobody who's spent a week living in the wilderness should have feet that soft looking, he thought to himself, and I didn't know calves could be so sexy.

Doing his best not to get distracted, he kept the torso of the mech steady and set off at a brisk walking pace. The humongous stride of the machine tore away at the miles, and the two of them settled into the easy rhythm of travel.

The scenery was beautiful, and the weather clear and bright. For a while Alex almost forgot that the planet he was on was stranded in a dimension so hazardous that it took shield generators the size of a house just to keep a small ship safe as it skirted the edges. The plant life and the occasional animal wouldn't have looked out of place in a nature documentary, if it weren't for the giants he had met when he first woke up he could have mistaken it for Old Earth. When the sun was high in the sky, they reached a group of tall rock formations and Major Swift called down to him to stop.

"The camp is only another quarter of an hour away, over that next hill. Will the armor be safe if we leave it here and proceed on foot?"

"I suppose so," replied Alex, "Why?"

"If it walks within sight-line of the sentries, you might startle them. The last thing we want is a war-party riding out to greet us."

He had to agree that was a sensible point. If the weapons technology of this world was of a similar level to what Elizabeth was carrying they posed less than no threat to him in the mech, but it might make initial negotiations with them a bit trickier. On the other hand, if they had more of the green fire the giant had hurled...

"Good idea," he said, putting the mech into a crouch and holding up a hand for her to load the luggage onto and help herself down.

They left the mech tucked as far out of sight as it could be in amongst the rock pillars. Alex had his helmet clipped to his belt again, as well as the pistol and a first-aid kit. A miniaturised assault rifle - designed for emergency use in case of combat in an area the mech couldn't reach - was attached to the middle of his chest, within easy reach, and a combat knife was sheathed on his left thigh. He carried the bundle of furs under his left arm, while Elizabeth had her pack on her back.

As they crested the hill, Alex let out a low whistle. Tents stretched as far a the eye could see; banners and flags fluttering in the breeze here and there. A crude but effective looking wall made of oversized wooden wagons barred their progress, but the major headed straight for a small gap without pause. In the far distance, gigantic creatures like oxen the size of buildings grazed in the open space on the opposite side of the camp. Alex tried not to stare.

Two guards dressed in chainmail with red tunics were leaning on spears either side of the entrance, looking bored. When they saw the pair approaching, they perked up. One nudged the other and muttered something under his breath, which was met with a guffaw. When they arrived, Elizabeth tried to go through but found her way blocked.

"You're back early," sneered the taller of the two soldiers, "Didn't find anything?"

The other soldier laughed obnoxiously, evidently thinking this was hilarious.

"I found something that was worth bringing back, corporal," Major Swift rebuked him, "Now get out of my way. I need to see the general."

"Oooh, I dunno about that. He been very busy today," the smaller one grinned patronisingly, exposing blackened teeth, "Leastways, not sure he'd want to see you anyway if you been bringing strangers back to the camp. The rest of us just leave the whores at the brothel."

He cracked up at his own joke, as did the other one. Alex gave a sidelong look at the major, silently asking permission to lay this asshole out. She shook her head subtly, and he shrugged as if to let her know that the option was always there.

"Trust me corporal, the general will want to see me," she looked to the mech pilot and smiled, "I found him a giant-slayer."

The laughing guards spluttered, and they looked Alex up and down. He winked at them, which seemed to throw them even more.

"It don't count if it's a fluke," said the taller one finally.

"Killing one giant might be a fluke, killing three at once is a tall tale old soldiers tell at the tavern that I just saw with my own eyes," the major stood tall, staring them each in the eye until they backed down.

"Whatever you say," said the smaller one, attempting to save face.

Elizabeth brushed past the two of them, marching off towards the centre of the camp. Alex leaned in towards the taller guard, getting close enough to smell the stale beer on his breath.

"Boo!" he whispered.

The guard jumped back in fear. Chuckling to himself Alex set off after the major.

"Not going to discipline them?" Alex asked.

"Not my command," Elizabeth muttered, her easy smile had been replaced by a fixed scowl, "Every time I try, their commander tells me I don't have the authority and lets them off."

The mech pilot drew stares from each group they passed as they made their way between the tents. A younger man wearing the same green cloak and brown tunic as Elizabeth saluted when they approached. She handed him her pack, and the furs, with instructions to take them back to her tent. The soldier acknowledged Alex with a nod, then saluted again before scurrying off.

The further they walked, the more banners and flags they saw, and the more grandiose the tents. Finally, they reached a clearing. A large, open area with a raised wooden platform off to one side. Atop the platform, an even higher dais supported a wooden chair with ambitions to thronehood, which in turn supported a fat man with jowls like porkchops who gazed down at what seemed to be a war table. It was surrounded by regally dressed officers and scholarly looking assistants arguing among themselves. He caught sight of the two new arrivals and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What's this you've brought me, Swift? Another muck-raker you hope to get fast-tracked into your scouts just because he can hold a sword?"

"No sir," Elizabeth responded with a formality so carefully bland it almost looped back around into scorn, "I've brought you the giant-slayer you've been asking for."

"Is that so?" he queried, leaning forwards despite the creaking protests of the chair, "He doesn't look like much. What's your name, peasant?"

"Captain Alexander Murray, sir," Alex snapped to attention and gave a rigid salute.

"Well well," exclaimed the general, chins wobbling as he chuckled, "Poaching other officers' men again? Who's your commander son? What regiment wears black on black? I don't recognise your colours."

"General Percival Ulster, Mech Corps, sir."

The fat man narrowed his eyes.

"I know every general in these lands, boy. There is no Percival."

"He's... not from around here sir," interrupted Elizabeth.

"I'm from New Holland sir," added Alex.

The general murmured something to one of the scholars on the platform, who shook his head in response.

"I haven't heard of this place, which means it's not in Albion. What continent is this "New Hull-end" part of?"

Alex mentally kicked himself, he had absolutely no idea what any of the places around here were called. He didn't even know how many continents they had, or how well mapped they were. If this place still had undiscovered areas, he could wing it. But if they knew he couldn't have come from an unknown land mass, then he couldn't just make up a name. Not even Elizabeth would be any help here, she was looking at him curiously, wanting to know the answer. He would have to risk the truth.

"Not a continent, sir," he made sure his posture didn't waver, staying perfectly upright and still, "New Holland is the name of the planet."

The platform erupted into chaos, everyone was shouting and pointing. Next to him, Elizabeth hung her head, not meeting his eyes. The many-directional argument continued until the general roared for silence, standing unsteadily on his podgy legs. He pointed an accusing finger at the major before shouting.

"You have brought me an imbecile, Elizabeth! Take him from my sight!"

Elizabeth grabbed his arm, and for a moment Alex thought she was going to lead him away, but she raised her head defiantly and responded.

"His sanity is not part of the question, my lord. I watched him slay three giants in combat, wearing a suit of armor that made him their equal in size and their better in martial prowess. Whatever ails his mind, I swear to you he is worth it."

"Fine!" the general expelled a strand of spit, waving his hand as if to clear the air of a bad smell, "You want to keep him? Put him with the freaks."

Elizabeth's hand tightened around his arm until it was uncomfortable, though she kept her face straight as a ruler.

"Sir?" she questioned.

"You know exactly who I mean, Major. If you continue to act stupid every time I call them freaks, I might decide you're non compos mentis and have you join them," he grinned nastily, spit still hanging from his lip.

She saluted, staring dead-eyed forwards, and turned to lead Alex away. Behind them the shouting match began again.

They walked in a different direction to the one they had come from. Following a less well trodden path through the camp. The silence was uncomfortable to say the least. Elizabeth pulled him, still holding tightly to his arm, and Alex let himself be lead. The tents became more and more bedraggled, and no more banners adorned them. Finally, she spoke, still not looking at him.

"Do you really come from another planet?"

Alex nodded slowly.

"I grew up on New Holland, made a trip to Old Earth when I was a child. When they gave me command of a mech suit I flew to Mars, and since then I've dropped from the skies on more than fifty different worlds. There's a big Universe out there, and I've seen more of it than most."

The major sighed deeply, looking out to the horizon in the direction where the mech was hidden.

"You know what? After what I've seen, I might just believe you."

The collection of tents they arrived at on the far edge of the campsite looked extremely cobbled together. Canvas sewn out of many scraps hung over poles that had split in two and been lashed back together. A large, green-skinned man with tusks jutting from his lower jaw nodded to Elizabeth over the top of a leather-bound book, and a couple of short, bearded men standing around half a shattered anvil waved in greeting.

"You can use the large tent at the end," she said, pointing at the biggest of the four grouped together, "I have to go, but I'll be back later."

She looked around at the residents of the sub-camp and squeezed Alex's shoulder - thankfully not the broken one.

"Be nice to them," she looked into his eyes, impressing the importance, "They're good people."

With that, she turned and left Alex looking bewildered at these creatures that could have stepped out of a storybook. They definitely weren't human, but then, he wasn't strictly human either.

He walked into the middle of the campsite, and the residents looked at him curiously.

"Can we help you, sir?" asked the green man - an orc, surely?

His voice didn't fit his body, for while he looked like a berserker he spoke softly and carefully. Alex turned to face him.

"I'm living here now, apparently. General's orders."

The two dwarfish looking men looked surprised. The orc looked him up and down.

"You must have done something to really anger him then."

The obvious question was left hanging in the air. Alex sighed, they would have to find out at some point.

"I fell from space and killed three giants. The general didn't believe me."

"Now that's interesting," came a small squeaky voice.

The orc turned around and a tiny, elderly man waddled out of the tent behind him. The top of his wispy, white hair came up to the same height as Alex's knees.

"That's very interesting," he continued, "He's telling the truth."

"Are ye sure, Gelb?" a dwarf asked incredulously.

"Of course I'm bloody sure!" snapped Gelb, "He has a very loud brain, I could tell even from behind Thrak."

The orc raised an eyebrow at this.

"Well then," he said, extending a hand, "Let me be the first to welcome you to the - now incorrectly named - nonhuman camp."

Alex took his hand and shook it gently, mindful of his broken wrist.

"Pleasure to meet you, Captain Alexander Murray at your service."

"My name is Thrak, this is Gelb," he gestured to the small man, "Those two are Daine and Borren."

The dwarves bowed low, their beards touching the floor.

"Talia isn't here right now. If I heard correctly, you'll be sharing her tent."

Thrak seemed to be the defacto leader of the bunch and he explained life on the camp to Alex, rattling off a list of times when meals were served, when they had to work and where the latrines were. They earned their keep on the camp from morning to afternoon, from then until evening was training time for the soldiers. Captain Murray listened intently, mentally filing away all the important information. All in all, life here sounded hard, but compared to basic training it would be like a summer camp.

Alex's wrist twinged in discomfort, reminding him that the armor splint - while effective at keeping him moving - would do little to help it heal. He made his excuses and retired to his new tent. The inside was surprisingly nice, larger than his officer's quarters back on the base, with a canvas rug covering the floor and a basic cot for sleeping. Piles of books were stacked on top of a simple stool to keep them from getting damp through the floor. A chair sat in front of what looked to be half a door, fashioned into a rudimentary desk with quills, ink and charcoal for writing and drawing on the sheaf of parchment beside them.

He let out a breath, and relaxed, then cursed his implant as it tried to send him into a coma again. He unfastened all the weapons he had strapped to himself and tossed them away. His boots were removed and placed neatly by the entrance. Reaching around to the back of his neck, Alex pressed the button that caused his pilot suit to loosen for removal. The gel layer shifted, stretching the clothing until it hung loosely from his frame. He gingerly pulled his gloves off, then lifted the top over his head, trying to ignore his fractured shoulder. As the sleeves pulled away, his broken wrist screamed and he hissed between his teeth.

Throwing the armored shirt to the floor, he slipped out of the grey, skin tight shirt that he wore underneath. Thankfully this was less painful. The captain knelt and opened the first aid kit with his left hand, drawing forth a white donut. His right hand was tucked tight and pressed through the hole. The donut stretched over his muscled forearm squeezing painfully on the break, up to just below the elbow. He then unrolled it down his wrist, a flexible webbing that pressed tightly to his skin. When it reached his hand he tucked a thumb through one of the holes, and then cut off the rest with a pair of small scissors. As the last strand was cut, the flexi-cast on his wrist hardened and contracted to form an exoskeleton that would hold his bones in place to heal.

Satisfied with the cast, Alex pulled out a short spike from the kit and pressed it into his socket. Brief segments of computer code flashed across his vision, and he felt a literal chill and a crawling sensation down his neck as the medical nanobots moved through his bloodstream. He shuddered; they might be effective, but it wasn't pleasant to have tiny robots running about your body. At least they had wised up and removed their ability to self-replicate after that incident with the metal lab-rats.

As he sat back on his heels, the tent-flap rustled behind him.

"Begging your pardon my lord," came a soft and melodic voice, "I was not aware I would have company."

Alex turned around, stretching and flexing his fingers to settle into the cast. Stood at the door, staring at her feet, was a tall woman in a simple dress, with long, brown hair that hid her face. What it couldn't hide however, was a pair of pointed ears that stuck out from the sides of her head. An elf? This was getting ridiculous.

"You must be Talia, right?" he asked.

"Yes my lord," she still didn't look up, her voice shook, "What do you require of me?"