Tag: reading

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.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 9

Autumn

“What the fuck are you doing, John?”

Hartmann had driven himself home to his apartment after dropping Carol and Holmes off, and now stood freshly showered in his bathroom, a towel wrapped around his middle as he stared at himself through a wet mirror, water dripping down his shoulders.

The taste of Carol’s tongue still tormented his memory, as did the caress of her hair, and the soft curve of her breast under his hand. But, despite all of the maneuvers he had carefully deployed to get them to that point, he was beginning to doubt himself.

Carol wasn’t a slut, and he wasn’t aiming for a one night stand. Aside from the overwhelming lust that had seized hold of him, he didn’t have the first idea what his end goal was. He was pushing ahead blindly and risking his entire career, all for the cleaning lady. Had he totally lost his mind?

He wished that he could take Carol fully under his power, dress her in something feminine and tease her without restraint. He would never reveal how entranced he was by her, but he would certainly wrap her around himself until she grew to adore and worship him. He would teach her how to express herself more vividly.

What Hartmann couldn’t explain was the strange hollowness in the center of his chest.

For years, the master sergeant had been hailed as a hero, and had done everything in his power to become one on the battlefield. What he had always kept secret was the terror he had felt the first time when his commanding officer had been killed in action, and it was his duty to take charge while enemy bullets rained down around them. The responsibility of the soldiers’ lives being place in his hands had weighed heavily on him, leading him to overcompensate with the heroics, and in the end he was certain that his success had been due to dumb luck.

But then it happened again, and again. He was praised repeatedly for his leadership skills and tactical abilities, and he permanently buried every doubt he had ever had.

Until now.

But second guesses were not a luxury he could afford, and Carol, despite all that she was, had still stolen his glory. Whatever uncertainties he experienced were sure to fade as he continued to push forward toward his goal. He needed to claim her to regain control of the Suit by proxy, and that mattered more than anything.

Hartmann pulled on a pair of baggy pajama pants then flopped shirtless onto his couch, grabbing a gaming controller and loading a first-person-shooter to pass the time. It was oddly a relief to be in his apartment alone, without the crowd of friends or a random hookup. As he played, he half imagined that Carol’s weight was pressing into his side, as if she was sitting on the couch quietly enjoying the moment with him, and it killed his ability to aim or react in the game. Still, he didn’t mind; the sensation was a pleasant one that covered his arm in goosebumps.

He found himself looking forward to the following day, and the continuation of his illicit relationship with the cleaning lady. It was by far the most exciting endeavor he had ever undertaken outside of the Suit.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 8b

Autumn

Late, because I had to recover from a totally wild Easter celebration. Lol.

“What did you have planned for us after ditching corporal Holmes?” she asked.

“I dunno. I got caught up in the moment.” They stared at each other, and all the while Carol kept hold of Hartmann’s hand. “I should take you back.”

“No.” Carol shook her head. “I want to … live like a person.”

“That’s an odd thing to say.” Hartmann gave her hand a small squeeze, then pulled her to begin walking, keeping away from the parking lot and surrounding roads.

“I’ve been thinking that I need to do more with my life.” Carol nervously bit her lip, then continued, “I don’t have any family or friends to miss me, – or any pets either. I’m not really sure what the difference is between now and before, other than where I sleep.” She pulled her hand away and mumbled, “Sorry for rambling. I know that I’m not making any sense.”

Hartmann hesitated. He still had the intoxicating taste of Carol on his tongue, pleading with him to kiss her again, and a hard lump in his throat that made it difficult to talk. He willed himself to regain control, to slip back into his usual mannerisms, and hide how exposed he felt by Carol’s confession – it mirrored his own life too closely for comfort.

“You have me, now.” He forced a grin.

“Really?” she asked, sounding surprisingly earnest.

“As I said before, I can’t keep myself from liking you.” He pulled her close to put his arms around her waist, and leaned to whisper in her ear, “Will you let me like you?”

Carol’s cheeks turned a deep red and she avoided his gaze. “I’m thirty-one,” she replied, a little breathless. “Don’t you think I’m too old?”

“I’m thirty-five. We’re right for each other.” Hartmann ran his fingers through her hair, watching as her eyes half closed. She was succumbing to his words, and this time lifted up her chin when he kissed her for the second time.

His lust for her swelled so intensely it hurt. His hand cupped her breast before he realized it, and his tongue ventured into her mouth. The desire to claim her screamed and raged at him, but a small portion of sensibility shone through: pushing Carol too fast would backfire badly. He reluctantly let her go. She swayed on her feet, and her eyes quickly pointed at the ground.

They walked in silence for awhile, with no destination in mind. Their hands were clasped together with their fingers intertwined, but each was in their own thoughts. Eventually their meanderings took them on a loop back around, as when the restaurant came into view, Hartmann released her hand.

“Do you think that we’ve let Holmes panic for long enough?” he asked jovially.

“Probably.” Carol wrapped her arms around herself.

“I don’t want to say this, but …” Hartmann trailed off, giving a moment for suspense to build as he worked out the proper phrasing. “I’m a master sergeant, and I was assigned to assist in training you. It’s considered an abuse of authority for me to engage in a relationship with you.” He studied her reaction carefully. “I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“So … that means we have to keep this between the two of us?” Carol asked.

“You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for.” He put his arm around her and pulled her against his side. “That is unfortunately correct.”

“I guess that’s all right,” she said slowly, but her mouth turned downwards. “But you should know that I have a terrible poker face. I’m awful at hiding things.”

“I trust you.” He set his jaw and dropped his voice to a dramatic murmur. “I don’t know what I’d do if I was dishonorably discharged. The military is the only life I’ve ever known.”

Carol nodded enthusiastically. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Honestly, this seems so surreal, it feels more like a dream. I half expect to forget all about it tomorrow morning.”

“I hope you don’t.” He smiled. “C’mon. We have to go find our escort and apologize.”

Something felt wrong.

Carol wasn’t the sort to gush giddily over anything, but her behavior was still off. Everything about her inner world was a gigantic unknown, and despite his best efforts to read her, Hartmann had his doubts about how accurate his impressions were.

Holmes was sitting on the hood of Hartmann’s car, and as he stood he gave them a sour look. Carol scooted so that she was half hidden by Hartmann, who in turn adopted his most suave demeanor, calling out, “Hey!” with a wave that was more like a small flourish.

Holmes scowled but stood and saluted, giving a bitter, “Sir!”

He returned the salute. “We were sitting around the side of the building waiting for you to come out, but we missed you. Spoiled the joke, didn’t it.”

Holmes glanced over at Carol, who blushed deeply and looked away, fidgeting with her hands. “Yes, sir, it did,” he replied.

Carol had been speaking the truth when she said that she was terrible at hiding things, but thankfully her obvious struggle with anxiety in all its various forms served as a sufficient cover story for her behavior. Hartmann was pleased to note that there wasn’t any hint of suspicion in the corporal’s eyes, but rather pity for the poor woman.

“Let’s call it a night.” Hartmann reached into his pocket and thumbed the key fob, unlocking his car doors. “We’ve got many more long days ahead of us.”

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 8a

Autumn

Although there were a number of civilian employees present, the majority of the crowd was in uniform, and for better or worse, Hartmann’s reputation preceded him; a number of curious glances were cast their way as they were shown across the restaurant to their table, and he met them with a roguish grin.

Carol’s new role as pilot was classified, and consequently, Hartmann’s humiliation as well. Had it been well known that he had been ousted from the Suit, he would have never allowed himself to be seen in public with the cleaning lady. But as it was, he could relax and enjoy himself, all the while playing it up for the mystery.

He had chosen an Italian themed restaurant on a whim, and the three of them settled into their seats as a basket of breadsticks was placed on the table along with the menus. He immediately picked one up and tapped Carol on the nose with it.

“You should eat this,” he said. “You are far too skinny.”

“I wish everyone would stop nagging me about that,” she muttered, but she took the breadstick and pulled off a small bit to put in her mouth, chewing slowly as she picked up the menu. Hartmann grabbed another, and this time used it to tap her cheek.

“They say garlic is quite healthy for you, so it might help with your complexion. Unless it’s too flavorful for you.” Hartmann grinned.

Carol narrowed her eyes at him and pushed the second breadstick away. “I’m not that boring, master sergeant.”

“Oh?” He leaned towards her, a mischievous look in his eyes. “What sorts of exciting things have you been up to lately?”

“Well …” A small smile crossed her lips. “I took over your job of piloting a badass mecha suit.”

Hartmann forced a laugh and willed himself to brush the comment off. “Touche.” He hadn’t expected her to push back in such a manner, and from the pleased yet anxious expression on her face, she wasn’t accustomed to behaving in such a manner either. Funny enough, however, it was her own words that threw her off balance far worse than anything he could have done. Her hands shook at she held the menu, and from the way her eyes were unfocused, he could tell that she wasn’t reading the words.

When the waiter arrived to take their order, Carol blurted out “spaghetti.” After the other two entrees were ordered, Hartmann added, “A bottle of white wine as well,” then grinned devilishly at Carol as he lowered his voice and purred, “You need something grown up to balance out that spaghetti.”

“Oh hush!” Carol snapped back. “I like spaghetti.”

“Toddlers do too, or so I’ve heard.” Hartmann gently touched her leg with the toe of his boot. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make a woman out of you sooner or later.”

Carol’s face turned bright red, and she focused her gaze down at the table as she took another breadstick and began eating it, deliberately ignoring him. Hartmann took that as a sign that it was time to back down, and instead engaged in small-talk with Holmes, asking a series of routine questions about the corporal’s life before the military, and chipping in small anecdotes from his own early years. Once the waiter arrived with their food, all conversation stopped, and when Hartmann placed the glass of wine in front of Carol, she immediately took a drink.

An idea popped suddenly in Hartmann’s head, when near the end of the meal, Holmes leaned over and whispered that he needed to take a break in the restroom. “Go on,” he replied. “You can trust that she’ll be safe in my company.” He watched the corporal walk away towards the back of the restaurant, then pulled out his wallet and counted a number of bills that he dropped onto the center of the table and stood.

“Come. Quickly,” he said, taking Carol’s arm and boosting her up to her feet. She didn’t resist, but silently followed as he whisked her through the restaurant, and he was grateful for her compliance. Once out the door, he quickly pulled her around to the side of the building, then pushed her up against the brick to minimize their presence as he watched the front entrance, waiting. A minute later, Holmes appeared, looked around, then ran towards where Hartmann had parked his car.

“Looks like we’ve escaped,” he muttered with a chuckle, and looked down at Carol. It was then that he realized he had her against the wall, staring up at him with wide eyes and trembling lips, her feminine contours pressing into him and reminding him vividly of his own masculinity. Purely on impulse, he pressed his mouth against her.

Carol didn’t move. She was frozen, doing nothing to either reciprocate or to pull away, but Hartmann knew her well enough to expect her non-reaction. To avoid overwhelming her, he moved slowly and lightly, more tickling her lips with his own, though the urge to claim more of her surged through him stronger than ever. A small whimper sounded in her throat, and snapped him back to reality. He released her and pulled away.

“I, uh …” His mind was blank.

“Master sergeant.” Her voice sounded small.

“I violated protocol …” Dammit, why did his brain turn off the moment he needed it most?

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 7c

Autumn

((This one is short because I’m a scatterbrain, lol))

When he realized that he had been silent for an unusual amount of time, he flashed a smile and replied coyly, “You’ll think of something.”

“So …” Carol shifted, looking down at her feet as she bit her lip shyly. “Did you say that you’re going to get dinner with me?”

Hartmann considered for a moment, then suggested, “If you’d like, we can hit up one of the restaurants on Base. Beats the hell out of the cafeteria food, and I’ll pay for you.”

“No.” She shook her head, a little too emphatically. “That’s too much like a date.”

“Corporal Holmes will be there to protect you.” Hartmann raised his voice as he asked, “Isn’t that right, corporal?”

“Right, sir,” Holmes answered back, grinning. “Especially if I get a free meal out of it, sir.”

“See?” Hartmann gestured. “I’ll pay for him too. There won’t be anything remotely intimate about it, just better quality food.”

“I guess …” Carol’s cheeks flushed. “I’ve never actually visited any of the restaurants here.”

“Of course not!” Hartmann teased, playfully pushing his knuckles into her shoulder. “You always went straight home after your shift ended, like a good little girl. Isn’t that right?” She nodded timidly as Hartmann laughed, and he pulled her to the door as he quipped, “Come with us, and we’ll show you a good time.”

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 7b

Autumn

Hartmann studied her, still feeling a little choked over the way Carol had latched onto his confession of the truth. Any normal person in her position would still be seething with resentment towards him for abruptly shattering everything about their life, but Carol … she had yet to complain that she missed her friends, her apartment, or her favorite pair of shoes. As they recited the NATO alphabet together, it was almost as if she didn’t even remember that he was the reason why she was there in the first place, or that her life had been different just a few days prior. She submitted to her fate as a military asset without resistance, and was now clear-headed enough to peer through his facade when she should have been overcome with emotion.

After repeating “x-ray, yankee, zulu,” a few times, Carol mused quietly, “I wonder where the captain went.”

“Undoubtedly for a little …” Hartmann curled his fingers into a loose fist with his thumb out, which he pointed at his mouth as he tilted his head back. Carol looked at him, baffled.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Captain Lambert is a drunk,” Hartmann replied.

“But he never seems drunk.” Carol’s brow wrinkled.

Hartmann shrugged. “I don’t know the exact particulars of his drinking habits, but everyone knows that he hits the whiskey bottles hard. He’s under a lot of pressure to make something useful out of you, so he’s probably going to be indulging more than usual for the next while.”

Carol fixed her eyes on the table and pushed her fists hard onto her knees. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”

“I know.”

“I really am doing my best,” she continued. “I don’t see why it would drive him to drink. It’s not like I’m making him fight me to be more cooperative or anything like that.”

“It’s the general, not you. Captain Lambert’s been given orders that he’s got to push through, no matter what.” The image of Lambert encouraging Carol as she lay on the ground flashed through Hartmann’s mind and tightened his jaw. “It might be best if you keep low around him, and try not to agitate him.”

“You think so?” Carol asked slowly, and bit her lower lip. Hartmann glanced over at the corporal, and was disappointed to see that Holmes was watching them.

“Yes.” He stood and made a show of stretching. “Let’s get dinner. You need to remember to always eat three square meals a day to keep your strength up and build your muscles.”

“You guys are so weird about that,” Carol said with a smile.

“We’re trained to be.” Hartmann held out his hand to help Carol up, and she took it hesitantly then let go quickly. “Unless Captain Lambert instructs otherwise, you’re dismissed for personal time afterwards.”

Something about that made Carol laugh. “Personal time, huh?”

Hartmann studied her carefully, trying to read her thoughts. “Don’t have anything to do?” he asked.

She looked him straight in the eyes, her expression strange and uncharacteristic as she replied bluntly, “No. And you already know that.”

It reminded him of the moment she had mysteriously slipped through his fingers and jumped into the Suit – the moment that had begun this entire debacle that held him captive. The thought flashed through his mind that there was another Carol hiding inside, and that was the reason why she seemed so empty at first glance. Was the boring, bland woman a mask for something else?

The pieces were beginning to form. Carol, orphaned as a toddler in a tragedy that had nearly killed her as well, had grown up in foster care, emancipated herself at a young age, found stability, then stagnated for nearly half of her life as she drifted into invisibility. While he knew that there was some significance behind it all, he couldn’t place his finger on what.

For a brief moment, he considered asking Lambert for his analysis – it was well known that the captain had worked as a psychologist before enlisting, and would be able to better interpret what Hartmann had discovered – but he immediately disregarded the idea as harebrained. He needed to keep those two apart, not give them an excuse to engage in emotional bonding.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 7a

Autumn

“Book learning” saw Carol in a small classroom with her military entourage. Lambert was up front, using the projector in an attempt to teach her how to read maps, while Hartmann leaned against a desk close behind her. He noted that Holmes was in the back corner furtively glancing at his phone, and simultaneously felt annoyed at the lack of discipline with the younger soldiers, yet relieved at finding a weakness he could exploit.

After an hour, the captain gave in to the despair in Carol’s eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he grumbled for Hartmann to take over, then left the classroom. Unlike Lambert, Hartmann wasn’t under any pressure to turn Carol into a soldier, so he found her ineptitude comforting – the woman had such a hard time grasping basic geography, it made sense that she only traveled by bus; if it was up to her to navigate, she’d never make it anywhere. By the end of the week, he was certain, Lambert would report that Carol was impossible to work with, and Hartmann would be back in the Suit for the mission.

“Let’s switch over to something easy,” he said, not moving from his spot. “The NATO phonetic alphabet.”

“What is that?” Carol asked, turning around to look at him.

“It’s for over the radio, to reduce potential confusion.” He grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, and began scrawling down a series of words. “You memorize it, then use it instead of the ABCs.” A minute later, he handed the paper over to Carol, and she stared at it.

“Your handwriting it terrible,” she blurted, then turned red with embarrassment.

Hartmann grinned. “I’m a military guy, remember? It’s a miracle I even know how to write, given that my career revolves around point and kill.”

She smiled in return. “Maps and running too, apparently.”

“Words just get in the way. Why, if I picked up a book and started reading, I might get ideas in my head.” He sat down in a chair next to her and leaned towards her.

“Like what?” Carol asked, her eyes seeming huge as she looked at him.

“Like that I’m actually a person, and not a killing machine.” He jabbed his finger down onto the paper. “Alpha, bravo, charlie,” he said. “C’mon and repeat it.”

Carol repeated it, over and over, until it sounded like a sing-song. Then he moved her onto another group of letters to recite. After reaching “tango,” she randomly commented instead, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually a person, too.”

Hartmann paused, an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. “Why do you say that?” he asked, his voice rasping a little.

“You said that we have more in common that you realized at first,” Carol answered. He hated the sincerity in her words, and the way that she looked at him earnestly. “It occurred to me that was something that we shared.”

Hartmann unconsciously clenched his hand into a fist, but forced a smile as he replied, “You’ve been thinking about what I said?”

Carol blushed deeply and turned away to stare intently at the paper, muttering, “Sorry.”

He glanced back at Holmes, ensuring that the ever present corporal was distracted with his phone, and reached over to lightly touch her fingers. “Most people don’t see through me. I didn’t expect that you’d connect the joke with what I confessed earlier.”

“I didn’t mean to, I …” Carol stuttered, then bit her lip.

“Be careful, Carol,” he said quietly. “If you keep this up, I might not be able to keep myself from liking you.”

She was red clear to her ears, and pulled her hand away as she recited, “T-tango, uniform, victor. Tango, uniform, victor.”

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 6b

Autumn

“All right, commander, it’s time for that push up,” the captain said calmly, and Carol looked surprised.

“Just one?” she asked.

“Just one,” Lambert repeated. “If you can manage.”

Carol stretched out on the ground with her hands propping her up, but before she started, Lambert instructed, “Lower your ass and keep your legs straight. Don’t drop your head like that. Now your ass is too low.”

Once he was satisfied with her form, Carol lowered herself down to the ground, and her face turned bright red. Her arms wobbled as she struggled to push herself back up, then her arms gave out and she dropped down to her stomach, where she buried her face in her hands to hide.

Lambert squatted down beside her. “I know that you aren’t a soldier, Carol,” he said reassuringly. “But you still need to keep trying.”

“Why?” Carol looked up, her eyes rimmed red, and she made a noise that sounded like half of a sniffle. “The Suit doesn’t require much physical strength.”

“Because a strong body makes for a strong mind, and it’s still going to be your responsibility to make snap decisions in the heat of battle. You can’t be distracted because you didn’t sleep well, or because you skipped breakfast. Understand?” Lambert answered.

Carol nodded pathetically from her position on the ground.

“Besides,” the captain added, lowering himself all the way to sit, “it’s physically strenuous to be out on a mission for ten or more hours. The Suit helps, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still human.”

“… Yes, sir,” Carol murmured, and for a moment she stared at the captain. Lambert squeezed his hand into a fist and thoughtfully pushed against the ground, then rose and gently kicked the soles of her shoes.

“C’mon and try again. You can lower your knees if you have to, but I want that ass in perfect position.”

“Yes, sir!” Carol raised herself up once again, and with some difficulty managed to complete the modified push up, the stood with a beaming smile on her face.

The whole scene was sickeningly cute.

And there wasn’t anything that Hartmann could do.

He kept his face expressionless, folding his hands together to stand at ease though his muscles still remained rigid. His mind was racing, searching for any possible way he could redeem the situation, his eyes locked on both Carol and the captain.

Lambert cast a sideways glance at the master sergeant, scowled, then muttered, “Don’t be too proud of yourself, commander. Any man could do better.”

The corners of Carol’s mouth abruptly turned downwards, and she also looked over at Hartmann, no doubt thinking of the day before when he had shown off by clapping in between his push ups. “Yes, sir,” she answered monotonously.

Lambert looked down at his watch, and said, “Break for lunch, then we’ll start on your book learning. I’ll get corporal Holmes to escort you to the mess hall.”

“I’ll take her, sir,” Hartmann interjected. “The corporal can meet us there.”

Lambert’s scowl deepened. “Fine.” He spoke into the radio from his belt, then nodded to Hartmann. Without looking at Carol, he turned to walk towards the building. He stopped before entering the double doors, glanced back to ensure that Lambert had gone in the direction of his office instead, then grinned at Carol as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Good job,” he said.

She looked at him with earnest eyes and asked, “You really think so?”

“Absolutely. You pushed yourself out there, and you did much better today.” Hartmann opened the door and held it as Carol walked through.

“The captain was right though,” she mumbled, then bit her lip.

“Everyone starts somewhere.” Hartmann shrugged. “Don’t take the things he says too personally. He’s your commanding officer, and it’s his job to keep you motivated to produce results. He’s going to be a jerk to you no matter what.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair,” Carol answered slowly.

“Welcome to the military.” Hartmann stopped just inside the mess hall and gestured towards one of the tables. “May I join you, or are you going to chase me off again?”

“No, it’s fine.” Carol’s cheeks turned pink as she became flustered. “Where’s Holmes?”

Hartmann quickly scanned the large room. “He’s not here yet.”

Carol hesitated, looked around as well, then blurted, “What gives? Why are you being nice to me after calling me a bitch and telling me to quit my job?”

He had known that he would have to face that question sooner or later, but he hadn’t yet come up with a perfect answer that would erase any doubts in Carol’s mind. Hartmann frowned, knowing that if he dodged the question or failed to give a satisfactory reply, it would permanently harm his chances with her. When his mind was still blank after several seconds, he replied truthfully, “I was jealous of you.”

Carol was taken back. “Why?”

“You know the Suit better than I do.” Hartmann’s eyes found Holmes on the other side of the mess hall, so he added quickly, “I still am, too.”

“So why are you being nice?” She repeated.

“Because … we have more in common than I realized.” He strode forward to meet the corporal, aware of Carol’s gaze fixed on him. Good, he thought. It was about time that she had begun to notice him in return.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 6a

Autumn

Lambert was a lot more strict with Carol’s physical training than Hartmann had been. She was still fatigued from the previous day’s exercise, and moved with the stiff sluggishness of sore muscles, but the captain was determined to not ease up on her. Hartmann remained silent as Lambert informed Carol that he wanted her to jog for the entire mile, then took up his position in the rear with the other two side by side in front of him.

While Lambert hadn’t directly ordered him to tag along, he hadn’t dismissed him, either. Hartmann wasn’t going to leave Carol alone with the captain when he had a choice in the matter, feeling oddly fearful that the other man would have no trouble in snatching her away.

Hartmann had never been in an actual relationship before. While he carried himself with all the bravado of a stud, he didn’t know if he had what it took to entice a woman to stay with him for longer than a night. He was empty – yet Carol’s blandness echoed that emptiness back to him, and made his heart ache for someone to share it with. Especially with how unapologetic and open she was about her nature.

Lambert was a real person, and could easily win against a life-sized action figure.

When they finished the first lap, he overheard Lambert murmur, “Good. Keep going.” He watched as Carol looked up at the captain and smiled. He traced back through his memories to figure out if she had smiled at him the day before.

He wanted to insert himself, to steal the moment away from the captain, but he had nothing to say.

Then Carol’s strength gave out. She halted and bent over, pressing her hand into her side as she gasped for breath.

Lambert faced her and gently urged, “Just one more lap.”

She shook her head and protested, “I’m going to throw up.”

“All right then, we’ll walk. But you are going to finish the full mile, Carol.”

“I can’t!” she snapped angrily.

Hartmann felt a lump form in his throat, from both shock and amazement. He hadn’t expected her to bite like that, especially at her commanding officer. She was too mousy, too obedient, to behave like that. Lambert, on the other hand, didn’t seem surprised at all.

He barked, “Get your lazy ass moving, commander!”

His words cut through to her, and she yelped, “Yes sir!” and began jogging again, her face turning an even deeper shade of red.

Lambert took up his position in front of her, moving backwards so he could face her. “When you cross that finish line, you’re going to drop and give me a push up as punishment for talking back to your superior. When I tell you to finish the mile, you finish it on your hands and knees with vomit trailing down your chin if that’s what it takes, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

Hartmann couldn’t make any moves with Lambert watching. He remained in the background, observing but not participating, waiting patiently. Carol slowed down to an awkward gait, holding her side as she walked, her eyes fixed directly at her own feet. She didn’t notice when she crossed the finish line or when the captain stopped, and she would have bumped into Lambert if Hartmann hadn’t quickly reached out to catch hold of her arm. He let go quickly, and avoided Lambert’s narrowed eyes.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 5b

Autumn

They watched as Carol overshot again, and Hartmann instructed her to repeat the exercise. There was an air of resignation hanging over the three men as they settled into watching Carol running back and forth in the Suit, each time missing the mark. The corporal seemed more agitated by the repetition than his superiors, and it reminded Hartmann of his early years of service when he had still been developing his mental discipline.

“You in for the long haul, corporal?” Hartmann grunted.

“No, sir. I’ll be returning to civilian life as soon as my service is up,” Holmes replied stiffly.

“Got a girlfriend?”

“Yessir.”

“Is she faithful?”

“Yessir, she is.” Holmes grinned widely. “We’re getting married after she graduates from college.”

Hartmann nodded. “You’re one of the lucky ones then.” A small part of him hoped that Holmes wouldn’t receive any last minute “Dear Johns”, as he had seen happen so many times before during his years in the military.

Lambert’s growl cut through their conversation as he spoke into the radio, “Again, Carol. You’re not any closer to the mark than you were the first time. Over.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t quite tell where the mark is until I’m practically on top of it,” she answered. “Um, over.”

“You use your eyes to look,” Lambert snapped.

Hartmann smiled inwardly at the captain’s growing irritation, and commented, “She’s not going to be ready for combat at this rate,” knowing that it was an unhelpful thing to say.

“Shut it, MSG Hartmann. You’re here to help train Carol, not to narrate the situation.” Lambert rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, sir.” Hartmann held out his hand. “In that case, please allow me to assist in training her, sir.” Lambert slapped the radio into his palm, and he spoke into it smoothly, “MSG Hartmann here. If you can’t see the mark on the ground, then use other landmarks that you know are near it. For example, CPT Lambert and I are in the jeep parked near the line, so the closer you get to us, the closer you get to the mile marker. Over.”

There was silence for a moment, then Carol answered defensively, “I’m not stupid.”

“I know,” Hartmann replied, looking directly at Lambert as he added, “Over.”

“I’m just … overwhelmed … over.” Carol’s voice sounded exhausted.

“We’re all feeling overwhelmed at the moment, but we’ll get through it. At the very least, your connection with the Suit is astounding – too bad you can’t see yourself from the outside. Over.”

“What the fuck are you up to?” Lambert growled, and his frowned deepened as Carol’s voice answered,

“Thank you, master sergeant. Over.”

“Sir, you ordered me to be nice,” Hartmann answered dismissively. “I thought she needed encouragement.”

“Carol is officially a military asset now, MSG Hartmann. You stick to your bar sluts, and don’t get any ideas into your head. She’s off limits.” Lambert continued to scowl.

Hartmann narrowed his eye and shook his head slightly. “Yes, sir,” he replied, emphasizing each word separately. “I was simply following your orders.” He forced a scowl as he added, “Though if I may say, sir, she is not anywhere near as young or sexy as the women that I am accustomed to.”

Lambert grunted. “Good.”

Hartmann wondered if, given the opportunity, the captain would keep to the “off limits” rule himself, or if he was secretly envisioning coming home to the cleaning lady cooking dinner and a couple of kids playing in the yard. The war couldn’t last forever, and one day the military would have to surrender to the fact that Carol was a human being.

Why was Lambert also drawn to her? Why was she like a drop of water in their parched existence? There was a long list of things that she wasn’t, and at the end of it came the feeling of relief.

Carol wasn’t fake.