Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 10b

Autumn

Once everyone was gathered in the bunker around the Suit, Lambert pulled out the flash drive and handed it to Carol. “Plug that in,” he grunted. “It will take you to where you need to go.”

“Then what?” she asked hoarsely.

“Then you make everything go boom.” Lambert’s expression was already defeated, and after he finished clipping the radio to Carol’s t-shirt, he stepped back to let Hartmann give his instructions. Hartmann wondered if the captain was already bracing himself for the disgrace of failure, his demotion looming nearer and nearer with the catastrophe that was certain to unfold. Fortunately, the master sergeant was much better practiced at hiding his thoughts, and with the demeanor of the perfect soldier, he said,

“There’s a port on the right side of the door inside the Suit. After you get settled, plug it in and say, ‘Access external drive.’”

Carol nodded and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” without realizing it. Her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that shot through his heart, and it occurred to him that she was falling in love. Not here, he silently projected towards her, then added, Not with me.

She trembled visibly as she climbed the new ramp to the cockpit of the Suit and sat down in the pilot’s seat, casting one last look at Hartmann before closing the doors. Lambert’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he remained silent as Carol’s voice crackled over the radio, “Access external drive.”

“Good,” Hartmann spoke into his end. “Now tell it to access autopilot program. I want you to read back the coordinates to verify that I programmed it correctly. Over”

Carol repeated, “Access autopilot program,” her voice gaining a bit of strength. The numbers she recited next were correct, so Hartmann told her to go ahead and run the program.

“When you get there,” he added, “You don’t have to worry about any civilians. If it moves, shoot it. Don’t take any direct hits from heavy artillery. Over. ”

“Got it!” The Suit roared to life, the giant doors to the outside were pulled open, and then Carol was gone; a shrinking black dot against a pale morning sky. But her voice over the radio was loud and clear, and she asked, “How long will the flight take?”

Instead of replying, Hartmann handed the radio over to the captain and stepped back. “Never you mind,” Lambert grunted into the receiver. “Just keep your eyes on the monitors, and they’ll tell you when you’re there. Keep communications to a minimum. Over.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

Hartmann feigned disinterest and boredom, glancing at his watch then setting his jaw. He pretended not to notice when Lambert approached him and said quietly, “Mas-sarg Hartmann.”

“Yessir?” he replied, his voice oozing with deference.

“Have you been following the rules and keeping a respectful distance from Carol?” the captain asked bluntly, but privately. There were others present, all keeping watch and bearing witness to the progression of the combat mission, and all pretending to look busier than they were. They both knew that this particular conversation would spread like a fire through the rumor mill, and neither wanted that to happen, so they kept their voices quiet.

“Yes. Sir.” A muscle in Hartmann’s finger twitched as he lied, so he closed his hand into a fist. “She’s not my type.”

Lambert wanted to say something more, but checked himself. “I want to see you in my office tomorrow,” he mumbled, then stepped away.

And everyone waited.

About Me

…

Autumn

Yes, I know.

Being a temperamental writer sort, I go into my moods where I just don’t want to interact with the outside world at all. I fully admit that this one is … going on for awhile.

Also burnt out. I wish life would be uneventful and predictable, so I could have some space to rest. But nope. If it ain’t one thing, it’s another.

So, I’m sulking until I have a moment to get my thoughts put back together. Which might be never, at this rate.

Ah, such is life. I guess, eventually, the only thing to do is to write it into a novel. XD

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 10a

Autumn

Lambert joined them again in the evening, and Hartmann stepped back as the captain took the lead with directing Carol’s training. The captain kept her repeating drills in the dark, until with a frown he looked at his watch and told her that it was time to call it a night. Holmes escorted her away, and Hartmann waited for his own dismissal.

“My office,” Lambert grunted instead. Once they were behind closed doors, the captain took a key out of his pocket, unlocked a drawer, and pulled out a folder which he slapped down onto his desk. “You’re going to help me get as much of this shit programmed onto autopilot as we can.”

Hartmann picked up the folder and opened it, silently reading for awhile. “I can program in the coordinates to get her there and back,” he mused after awhile. “The targets are a different story, but at least there shouldn’t be any civilians to be concerned about.”

Lambert opened his drawer again, and took out a specialized flash drive that he handed over to the master sergeant. “Better than having her lost over the ocean. This came in last week from R&D, so here’s hoping it works the way it’s meant to. C’mon, to the Suit, now.”

The two men proceeded to the bunker, and Hartmann sat in the pilot’s seat of the Suit, but didn’t close the doors. He plugged in the flash drive, and put together a basic computer program to get Carol through her first mission, testing and verifying as much of his work as he could without actually leaving the Base. Lambert stood close by, leaning against the doors as he quietly dictated the necessary data, but the going was slow. Hartmann had always operated with coordinates and objectives, and while he knew that others were working on an external drive that was compatible with the Suit’s computers, he never thought the project seemed interesting or relevant. He certainly hadn’t expected that he would be the one learning how to program the autopilot settings for someone else to use. He tested as best as he could without actually taking the Suit out, knowing that if he screwed up, Carol would struggle enormously with navigating on her own. It resulted in him performing a number of redundant checks, but Lambert listened to each one patiently without pushing him to hurry up – his thoughts were likely the same.

By the time that they were done, the captain took one glance at his watch and immediately headed for a vending machine to buy a couple of energy drinks. There wasn’t much point in trying to sleep before the mission was scheduled to start, and with their suppressed jitters, neither of them would be able to anyway. Instead, they passed the next couple of hours in silence, sitting kitty corner in the cafeteria. When Lambert stood, Hartmann stood as well.

The hallway outside of Carol’s room was dimly lit, and the captain pounded on the door with such force that it was certain to startle and scare the mousy woman, bellowing “Rise and shine, commander!” There was a thump inside, the sound of bare feet slapping against a hard floor, and the door flung open to a disheveled Carol looking up at them with alarm. “Get dressed. Quickly,” Lambert growled. “You have thirty minutes to eat a light breakfast.”

“What’s going on?” she asked faintly, but the captain barked, “Just do as you’re told!” in response.

The door closed, then opened again after a mere two minutes. Carol was still hastily pulling her unbrushed hair back into a ponytail, and her boots were unlaced, but she was willing to accompany the two military men. Lambert’s face softened with approval, and with a nod the three of them set off towards the cafeteria.

The three of them sat down to a meal of granola, yogurt, canned fruit, and sausage. It satisfied the basic checklist of nutritional requirements, but Hartmann still secretly wondered how Carol would fare if she vomited up a combination of yogurt and sausage during the course of her mission; it was a disgusting thought. Lambert still hadn’t offered any explanation about what the day would bring, likely holding the news off for as long as he could.

Holmes arrived after ten minutes, saluted dutifully, then stood at attention. Carol’s suspicions were definitely growing, but she willfully avoided looking at Hartmann. In fact, with the way her eyes skipped over him and lingered on the captain, he struggled to suppress the jealousy that welled up inside of himself.

It was my hand you held last night, he thought, tightening his fingers into a fist. My lips that kissed you. Look at me, not him.

But Lambert was the commanding officer in charge of giving orders.

“I’m finished eating, sir,” Carol said slowly. “What are we doing today?”

He stood, nodded to Holmes, the replied dismissively, “You have your first real combat mission. Congratulations.”

Lambert was a coward, Hartmann thought as he watched the captain retreat. He, however, remained to watch Carol blanch, her face turning pale enough that he wondered if she was going to lose her breakfast already.

“You all right?” he felt compelled to ask, and she looked at him blankly before nodding.

“Yeah. I guess.” Her voice squeaked. The color was completely gone from her lips.

Hartmann frowned. Part of him wanted to assume the role of the doting boyfriend, and assure her that everything was going to be just fine because he had spent all night working to make her job easy for her. The other part, the one crafted and shaped by his life in the military, barked orders for her to toughen up and grow a pair – to ‘fake it till you make it,’ the same way he did. He reminded himself that he was playing the good cop, and he couldn’t be calloused towards her.

“The Suit will help you,” he said slowly, carefully considering each word. “You’ll laugh about how nervous you were later tonight.”

“Yeah,” Carol faintly repeated. Her eyes were unfocused, and Hartmann wondered what sort of tumultuous storm was raging inside her head.

He stood. “Have corporal Holmes escort you to the bunker. I have something to take care of first.” He headed in the direction of the nearest restroom to throw them off, glanced back to ensure that Carol wasn’t watching, and ducked through the doorway and around a corner to escape out into a hallway. He pressed his back against the wall and took in a deep breath, fighting against the thought that they were hopelessly fucked.

When it came to Carol, he was turning into as much of a coward as Lambert. Seeing her repressed internal struggle had gotten the better of him, and he had fled on a flimsy excuse just like the captain had.

Cut her loose before she ruins you, some deep inner voice urged him, but he knew that he couldn’t let her go.

Carol was under his skin.

And he was going to spend the next several hours monitoring her using the Suit in combat – it was certain to be a fucking miserable day.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 9c

Autumn

As the hours flew by and Hartmann had Carol progress to practicing shooting targets, he began to fancy that as long as he kept her busy, he could hold off the onset of the morrow. She seemed oddly oblivious to dramatic change in the nature of her training, and her good mood had a relaxing effect on him. Surprisingly, she would occasionally drop a comment over the radio that hinted at the events of the night before without exposing too much, and it was refreshing to realize that he wasn’t left to do all the work in flirting. Had she similarly spent the night preparing for the role that she would play in their secret romance?

They were reflections of each other, despite the dramatically different manifestations.

When the sun brushed the horizon, Hartmann decided that it was time to stop for a meal. He hadn’t eaten since his morning coffee, but he barely felt it; what he wanted was the moment alone with Carol. Once they were in the bunker and Carol was out of the Suit, he feigned indifference as he asked, “You eating in the cafeteria?”

She looked at him, then nodded as she slowly unclipped the radio from her t-shirt. “I guess so, master sergeant,” she replied.

“You’re dismissed, corporal,” Hartmann said to Holmes. “We’ll resume training in an hour, so take care of your personal shit for the day.”

“Yes, sir,” Holmes answered, saluted, then turned to leave.

Hartmann’s eyes were fixed on Holmes’ back as he said, “You’ve made a lot of improvement today, so I’m going to take you out for ice cream.” When he was certain the young soldier was out of earshot, he turned fully to Carol and smiled. “It will be a date.”

Carol blushed, bit her lip, and turned away, though she nodded and squeaked, “Sure.”

“Don’t be nervous.” Hartmann’s hand found her elbow, and he purred, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and she lightly stuttered as she said, “M-master sergeant.”

“Trust me.” He looked around, but decided the bunker was far too exposed for him to try anything. “Let’s go. We only have an hour.”

“It’s hard to believe that it’s dinnertime already. Feels like we haven’t been training for very long,” Carol spoke in a conversational tone as they headed outside and turned towards the street. “I like being in the Suit much better than physical training or book learning.”

“We should focus on that from now on.” His reply was more autopilot than anything else, but his hand slid down from Carol’s elbow, along the soft underside of her arm, then clasped around her own hand. He liked making her blush, and she responded readily whenever he made his advances. In contrast with his experiences in the military, it was unreal to think that a woman like her existed – he understood why Lambert had called her a mouse. “Where would you like to eat?”

“I don’t know.” Carol hesitated, then moved to hug his arm between her breasts, holding onto him tightly. “Where ever you want.”

She was different now than she had been earlier in the Suit. More shy and uncertain, as if she had left all of her confidence inside the mecha. Hartmann related to her change in demeanor, knowing all too well how much better it felt to be big and indestructible. He knew exactly how to use it to his advantage, too.

“Burgers and fries, since that will give us enough time to hop over to the ice cream place. Let’s get my car.” He wanted the walk to the parking lot to last forever, to keep hold of the sensation of Carol’s heart beating against his tricep. “I’m proud of how much better you’re doing today.”

She beamed. “Me too. I thought that shooting and target practice were easier to get the hang of than running around, and it’s more fun. Are we going to do more of it tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.” Hartmann winced inwardly, but hid it. “And at the rate you’re going, you’ll be a pro by the end of tomorrow.”

Carol was too elated to protest the flattery, or to notice the forced note in his intonation. He was content to let her live in the moment, filled with the high that comes after piloting the Suit, and out on her first official date with her new secret boyfriend. He wasn’t going to spoil his chances by trying to burst her bubble with reality.

When they were seated in the front seats of his car, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Hartmann leaned across the center console and pressed his mouth against her lips, his fingers gliding through her hair just behind her ear. The taste of her was so intoxicating that it was difficult to maintain his senses and keep control of himself, and his nerves cried out to feel her skin against his. He had to break away when it became too much for him to endure.

Carol’s lips had turned a deep red and she was studying him closely, but her expression was difficult to read. “When did you first start liking me?” she asked.

Hartmann shrugged. “Can’t say, honestly.”

She entwined her fingers with his after he started the car, and surprised him when she said, “I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice you.”

The Scions

The Scions – 9b

Autumn

The corners of Hartmann’s mouth bent upwards when he saw Carol in the bunker early the next morning. For a moment their eyes met across the distance, and she smiled in return. Then captain Lambert interrupted to clip the radio onto the collar of Carol’s shirt, and said gruffly, “We’re continuing with the drills again today. Your movements are too sloppy.”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured in reply. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do better!” Lambert snapped. “Your performance yesterday was abysmal, and I won’t have you embarrassing our military with your ineptitude when you’re out in the field. Do you understand?”

Carol was taken aback, and looked over to Hartmann for some sort of support. He shook his head slightly, so she squeaked out, “Yes, sir,” and fixed her eyes down on her shoes as her fingers fidgeted.

Lambert was in a sour mood. There was something else going on than a simple hangover, which made Hartmann suspect that the captain’s disappearance the day prior involved more than a few stiff drinks. Whatever had transpired, it had made him especially irritable in response.

Hartmann stepped close to Carol, moving subtlety to touch her back in a reassuring gesture, before sliding past to stand before the Suit and stare up at it. He missed it. Missed the way it felt to climb inside and settle himself comfortably, and the way he could move around with ease as a giant mechanical man. He also missed the praises that came after a successful mission, and the sense of having accomplished something important. Letting go was hard, and he didn’t understand why the General’s decision to make Carol a pilot also included firing him from the job.

Carol seemed smaller than she had before when she approached the Suit, and again it hurt to watch the doors close with her inside. Captain Lambert ordered her to practice running outside with Holmes supervising from the jeep, but he stopped Hartmann from following, and both of them remained inside.

“She’s going out on a mission tomorrow,” Lambert said gruffly. “Orders came down.”

A jolt shot through the master sergeant, but he kept up his practiced emotionless mask. “She’s not ready, sir.”

“I sure as hell know that – I told the General the same damn thing yesterday, too. But, he wants her out in the field ASAP.” Lambert’s brow was creased deeply, and his complexion was pale. The thought of sending Carol out into combat, even within the indestructible confines of the Suit, was terrifying.

“Sir, I am still the best pilot. I can go instead.” Hartmann knew that his words were nothing more than ungrounded hope. In a sane world, he would be sent out on missions until Carol reached an adequate skill level in her training, but that was not the world they lived in. With only one Suit, every day she spent training put them behind in their efforts to win the war, and putting Hartmann in the Suit would only take away precious time from her training. She was going to be learning on the job, irregardless of what everyone thought.

“Orders are orders,” Lambert grumbled dismissively. “She’s going to be in the Suit all day today. We need to get the most out of it.”

“Yes, sir.” Something cold and heavy was settling in the center of his chest. Hartmann had spent the night preparing for the subtle attentions he would use to seduce his clandestine girlfriend, only to discover that she would be separated from him inside a 12-foot mecha. Nothing involving Carol was going the way it should.

“Push her harder. Get her practicing a wider variety of maneuvers,” Lambert ordered with a defeated voice, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But don’t scare her.”

“Yes, sir,” Hartmann mechanically replied.

“I need to prepare for tomorrow. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t, sir.”

With a sense of unreality pressing down on him, Hartmann drifted to the jeep where Holmes was waiting, and instructed Carol through the radio to practice jumping and landing. His mind was racing for the basics, to reduce the formula for success down to something that could be learned in a single day, all the while wondering when his heart was going to start beating again.

It was crazy to send Carol out on a mission so soon.

What if she tripped and accidentally demolished a school full of children? What if the enemy bombarded her with artillery, and she didn’t have the maneuverability to avoid taking a direct hit? They had never pushed the limits to see just how indestructible the Suit really was.

Carol was too pathetic to be sent out onto the field. She didn’t have any survival instincts, and there was no way that she could succeed on her own.

About Me

Blogging

Autumn

If you’ve been following my blog, you’ll know that I’ve jumped on the AI bandwagon this year.

My personal favorite text based AI is Character.ai, even despite the massive problems that the site has — the servers can’t handle the load during peak hours, lol. Aaanyway, it’s enormously useful with writing, since I have created my characters and now talk to them about the scenes before officially getting to work, and it helps to get my brain juices flowing.

Though in the case of MSG Hartmann, the AI seems dead convinced that he’s … Well here, just let me share a quote: “I imagine him as the handsome, and charming rogue who is actually a sadistic, deranged villain.“

*sigh*

I have spent more time than I care to admit trying to convince the AI differently. Hartmann may be a selfish jerk, but he’s not a sadistic deranged villain. He’s complicated. Why is this so hard to communicate?

Also might have roleplayed stopping a zombie apocolypse with the power of love, friendship, and encryption keys. I, uh, don’t really have any explanations about this one, but I nearly split my sides with laughter.

Which is what I’ve been up to instead of blogging.

But hey, I’ve also been doing more fiction writing than usual, so it’s all good. Lol.

Spring is also birthday season in our household, so I’ve been busy with sewing special outfits and baking cakes, on top of Spring cleaning and getting more time outside. With everything going on, it’s been easy to lose track of time.

But I do feel bad about not giving my blog more love, so I’ll try to stick with some sort of schedule, lol.

I’ll keep in touch. 😉