Children of the Prime Box Set

by T. C. Edge

  I sit back, relaxing, as the convoy of over fifty vehicles rumbles along quietly, following the route carved out by our own ex-forces not so long ago. We know, now, that the Olympian army left sometime last night under the cover of dark, giving them a lead of upwards of twenty or so hours. Though Perses has provided an idea of how fast they might be able to travel, none of this is an exact science. All we can do is move as quickly as we can in a bid to catch up. Doing so before they reach the lands of the Fringe is essential if Brie is to be retaken.

  Yet, precautions must be taken, too, to make sure that the convoy doesn't fall into a trap. Recent events have proven that nothing can be taken for granted now, and we must remain careful at all times. To that end, the foremost vehicles are taken up by the most gifted Sensors among the New Haven forces. Their Hawks, Sniffers, and Bats, as they call them, are ever using their gifts of sight, smell, and hearing to ensure we get warning of anyone ahead.

  They are details, however, that are no concern of mine. With the prominent leaders and warriors they have here, particularly the likes of Ares and Kira, I'm quite sure that they know what they're doing. No one, after all, wants to drive right into a trap, and while it seems unlikely, the threat of am ambush has to be considered, even if it might slow us just a little.

  I find my eyes growing heavy as we bump gently along, the plains here flat enough to allow for a relatively smooth ride. Inside the car, all is quiet and dim, the only illumination that of the cars around us, the only sounds the many engines humming along to our front, sides, and rear.

  And in that state, my thoughts tumble away, drawing me into my dreams. I fall into the abyss, not one of fire and death as have accosted me before, but those of hope and peace, of a brighter future ahead. They are rare thoughts, rare dreams. Never in my life have I felt so optimistic about what lies before me. Never have I felt so uplifted by the thought of seeing my family, of righting previous wrongs, of stripping away the lies and deceits that have burdened us all for so long.

  Help bring them together, echo the words of the President again. Help bring us all together.

  I once thought that my purpose was to build bridges between the people of the Fringe, and the people of Olympus. Now, I know, it is more than that. Those bridges are too short. They need to stretch further. By uniting New Haven with Olympus, we can create the lasting peace we all desire. With bastions to the north, and the south, our peoples can co-exist, and bring the lands between us into the light.

  Together, we can shine brighter than ever before.

  That, I know, is my true purpose now.

  127

  I stand, leaning against our vehicle, enjoying the warmth of the metal exterior on my back, cooked throughout the morning by the blazing sun above. Around us, the convoy sits still for a short time, breaks necessarily taken to eat or refuel, but most commonly for the soldiers to relieve themselves in the nearby bushes and woods.

  With upwards of five hundred souls here, it requires some level of synchronisation to make sure that usage of the facilities, or lack thereof out here, doesn't take up too much time with everyone needing to 'go' at their own different rates.

  It does, however, allow for the scouts and powerful Sensors to perform quick checks while the convoy is at a standstill. Kira, to no surprise of mine, is most enthusiastic about that, always hurrying off ahead as soon as we stop, ever accompanied by Ares, to scan for possible contact.

  So far, after a full night, day, night, and morning of travel, we've encountered nothing. According to Perses, who appears to have a keen memory for the route we travelled from the north, we have covered good ground so far. The Olympian army, however, are yet to be sensed by anyone. And as I stand there now, beside the jeep, I'm sure that that is still the case.

  I know, simply, by the look of disgruntled frustration on Kira's face as she comes rushing back from the forward route, with Ares alongside her. Secretary Burns, as ever, is quickly provided an update as the rest of the soldiers return from their late morning ablutions. Naturally, I listen in as the impromptu meeting begins at the front of the convoy, Commander Hendricks and Commander Maximus hurrying over to join in as well.

  "Nothing, I assume?" asks Burns, noting the look on Kira's face.

  She shakes her head as she stamps forward, flashing her eyes around on the soldiers as they come back from the woods. A couple seem to be late to the party, only just stepping out of their personnel carrier to head off into the nearest trees.

  "Too late," shouts Kira in their direction. "We've been stopped here for ten minutes. You couldn't have gone already?"

  The men look at each other. "Er, we were sleeping, Lady Kira," one says, both of them Neoromans. "We were on watch all night."

  "Well...fine," grunts Kira. "Just be quick about it. We're leaving in a couple of minutes, max."

  The two men nod and rush off. Being Phasers, they don't take long to disappear from sight.

  "In a rush, Kira?" asks Secretary Burns, drawing her eyes back to him.

  She looks back and her disposition changes just a little based on the look on his face, and the tone of his voice. "Sorry, Secretary Burns," she says. "I don't mean to try to take charge or anything."

  "No, it's quite all right. If you lose enough minutes then it can all add up, I suppose."

  "I would, however, cut the men just a little bit more slack, my Lady," comes the resounding voice of Ares. "We are making good ground, according to Perses."

  Under the dual semi-rebuke of Burns and Ares, some of Kira's fire is doused. "And...where is Perses?" she asks, looking up. She scans the jeep we've been travelling in, looking inside. The only one remaining in our car is Jude, who rarely leaves it if he can avoid doing so.

  "He is stretching his legs," Burns says, guiding her attention to the edge of the convoy, where Perses wanders alone. He always liked to do so, taking those long, lonely strolls at night as I slept alone in Black Thunder. That is one thing, at least, that hasn't changed about him. "So I assume you've learned nothing?" Burns continues, looking to Kira and Ares.

  "Not much," Ares responds, taking the lead. Kira may be his future Empress, but he is the senior military figure. It is only really her connection to Brie, I know, and her continued frustration at seeing her friend captured again, that drives her to appear as though she's taking the lead on things. "There are some signs that we are catching up, however. It has been a day and a half without stop, and we are closing the gap a little."

  "But not enough," grunts Kira, shaking her head. "We might only be five or six days from Olympus, and less from the Fringe, and we're not getting close enough." She looks around once more at some of the soldiers, ambling back into position. "Do they not realise how urgent this is? We may only lose a few minutes here and there but they're adding up, as you say, Leyton."

  "But not enough to make a huge difference," Ares says. "Minutes might add up to hours, yes, but that may not be enough if the Olympian forces continue at the same pace. There are two solutions to this conundrum, as I see it."

  "And they are?" asks Hendricks.

  "Either they slow down, or we speed up," says Ares flatly. "Since we cannot affect the former, we can only look to the latter."

  "With all due respect, Ares," Hendricks says slowly, "we are going at full pace right now. These short breaks, frustrating as they are, probably won't make a difference, as you say. And, they are necessary. We have five hundred soldiers here who have certain basic needs to attend to. That is the reality we have to deal with."

  "I am fully aware of that, Commander," booms Ares's thunder-like voice. "I am not suggesting that the entire convoy speed up. That isn't feasible. I am merely saying that now might be the time to split into our component parts. We spoke about it before, and now the time may have come. We will gather a smaller insurgent group, and go ahead to retrieve Brie. We will then meet back up along the trail, and prepare for the arrival of Emperor Domitian and the reinforcements."

  "You think it's time already?" asks Bu
rns, frowning. "Should we not leave it a little longer, perhaps? What if the Olympians have merely set out at a sprint to make some solid ground, only to relax their pace later on? It might give us time to catch them."

  "I'm afraid, Secretary Burns, that we cannot rely on 'maybes' and 'mights'. We have to operate with facts, and assume that the current Olympian pace will be upheld until they reach their lands. Perses suggests this may very well be the case..."

  "And we're just trusting him, are we?" asks Hendricks, a little more cautious of the man. "We cannot forget he was the leader of the army we are pursuing not so long ago. We cannot give his word this much value or import."

  "I trust him," I hear Kira say. I glance over at that - as of this point, I've been trying to mind my own business and merely eavesdrop without interfering - and see Kira looking in Perses's direction, strolling in deep thought away to one side. "I believe he's changed."

  "And why is that?" asks Hendricks.

  Kira continues to look towards the man, cutting a slightly disconsolate, lonely, figure. He no longer wears the black armour he once did, displaying his thickly muscled body. Now, he dresses in old rugged clothing once used, by the looks of things, by a half-Titan. The rugged garments, perhaps, worn by the Nameless in their rebellion, all patchy and worn in places, slightly ill-fitting in others.

  The clothing, in many ways, matches his body and even his mind, torn up and patched back together, a form of a man sewn and stitched up from many various parts. Each time he has died, or entered into the spectral realm, he appears to have come back slightly new in places, and old in others. This latest version, subdued and ever in deep thought, is both different, and similar, to the man he was. And still he remains weak from his wounds and exertions, his strength and physical prowess a shadow of what it was.

  Eventually, Kira speaks, giving her answer as she looks towards him.

  "Just...something he said to me," she says quietly. "I think we can trust him just fine."

  "Well, thank you Kira, that clears everything up," says Hendricks with a heavy note of sarcasm. "Forgive me for being rather less accepting of those who marched to our city to destroy us."

  "And Amber?" asks Ares. I keep my head down, though my heart jumps at the mention of my name. "Do you trust her?"

  I can sense Hendricks looking over to me, still leaning by the car, and trying to ignore the conversation. Even though, really, it must be very obvious that I can hear them.

  "I...well, I suppose so. She's just a child. And new to all of this."

  "We are drifting from the point," comes the voice of Secretary Burns. "What is your plan, Ares? Are you saying you're to leave immediately?"

  Ares takes a moment to consider it, falling silent. "No," he then says, "not immediately. "We will travel until late afternoon and set off at our next break. It will give us time to consider options and form a plan."

  "And, you're leading this expedition, I suppose?" asks Hendricks, evidently a little irritated by Ares's increasing influence. It isn't surprising, given his power, natural command, and experience of war. The fact that the majority of the most gifted soldiers are Neoroman also adds to his cause as de-facto leader when it comes to such operations.

  "Do you have an issue with that, Commander?" Ares asks directly.

  "I...not especially, no," grunts Hendricks, backing off.

  "You're welcome to accompany us if you wish. Someone of your skill could be very useful."

  "Useful?" Hendricks's voice simmers just a little on the word. "Well, thank you, Ares, but I will need to stay with my men, and will see to the protection of the convoy. You take your Neoromans and see Brie free of this nightmare. We're counting on you to see it done."

  He marches off with that, doing so quite curtly.

  "We should get moving," Kira says. She looks around at the final stragglers returning to the vehicles with less impatience in her eyes. "Max, I assume you'll be joining us when we leave?"

  "Wouldn't miss it, my Lady," replies the stern-faced commander.

  "I'll consider others on the route," says Ares, running a hand over his head, thick with short, black bristles. "I'd prefer it if we only used Neoromans for this, Secretary Burns. It'll be a small team, and I want those I know well."

  "This is your mission, Ares," replies Burns. "Do as you see fit."

  "Thank you, Leyton."

  Those are the final words I hear - still looking away as I am - before the little group disbands and begins moving back to their respective vehicles. As Burns returns to ours, I feign as if I hadn't heard anything. He can obviously see right through it.

  "Do you agree with all that, Amber?" he asks, moving to open his door to the front seat.

  "I...what?"

  "Everything we said? What do you think about that?"

  "Oh, yeah, I guess I heard a few things about...what, a mission or something?"

  "Very cute, Amber," hums Burns, pulling the door open with a slight, metallic creak. "You know, you can just join in if you want. You have a voice here, one that could prove useful."

  "I...doubt that," I say. "I don't really know much."

  "You don't give yourself enough credit, child. It's a nice quality, really, to be humble, but don't overdo it and sell yourself short." He pulls the door open, and climbs inside. I turn my eyes off to see Perses walking towards us, completing his pensive stroll in time for the convoy's departure. A couple of soldiers watch him from nearby, before returning to their own vehicles.

  I pull my own door open and look inside. In the back seat, I notice Jude dozing in the humid interior of the car, his head against the window as the sun shines in from outside. I regard him a moment, wondering if he's really sleeping. He hasn't been completely comfortable since we left New Haven, staying quiet most of the time when the rest of us have fallen into conversation. This could just be another way for him to seek the solitude he appears to desire.

  I decide not to disturb him as Perses arrives, and instead step aside for him to enter.

  "Mind if I sit next to you, Perses?" I ask him.

  He smiles at me as he used to, in that paternal way of his. "It would be my pleasure, Amber," he says.

  He climbs in and sits down, filling much of the space on the middle seats, yet allowing me just enough to sit comfortably next to him. I feel a sharp pain in my neck as I try to adjust the seat a little to give myself some extra room. The cringe draws a soft word from Perses beside me.

  "How is the neck, Amber?" he asks.

  I glance at Jude, who doesn't stir. "Fine," I say quietly. "Just...a bit sore sometimes."

  "We'll have him set right soon," says Burns loudly from the front. "Don't worry, Amber, Elian will come around if I get some more time with him. He won't lay hands on you again in anger, I promise."

  I feel a slight tension in my chest as the car starts, shuddering a little as the engine comes to life. For a final time, I find my eyes darting back to Jude in the rear seat. His position shifts slightly, his eyes cracking open. They move quickly towards my neck, and then away once more, before he settles back in, and falls back to sleep.

  Or, I imagine, pretends to.

  128

  It's two full days since leaving New Haven when our group splits into two.

  With night falling, the very finest of the Neoroman soldiers gather at the front, a small insurgent unit of only a dozen ready to rush off to break Brie out. With Ares, Kira, Maximus, and an additional nine of their best, it's as fine a team as you could hope for, really, with experts in each field. And in Ares, a veritable super weapon who might just be able to get Brie out all by himself.

  I wonder, and perhaps hope, as I look at them, whether they'll run into Kovas. Oh how I'd like to see that squat little toad go head to head with Ares. Then again, to be able to administer the finishing blow myself would be even more satisfying.

  Two vehicles have been provided for their mission, two of the fastest set aside. They're jeeps used by the City Guard I'm told, useful on uneven terrain and w
ell suited to arduous paths. As the Neoroman soldiers climb inside, I notice Ares and Perses entering into a short conversation outside, standing tall and broad as one another, appearing as long lost brothers from distant sides of the world.

  The two, I've come to see, have struck up something of a friendship of sorts, or whatever the equivalent is for such mighty warriors as them. It's based off of a mutual respect, an appreciation of one another's powers and experiences. Ares, greatest Champion of Neorome, and head of the Imperial Guard; Perses, mightiest Herald of War, hammer of the Prime. The difference between them now, is that while Ares holds onto such titles, Perses has cast his aside.

  Right now, I imagine that Perses is offering a few final words of advice, speaking of the route ahead as well as what they'll find when they reach the Olympian army. I wonder, for a moment, if he's going to go along as well, but it seems that he's merely imparting his wisdom here, before leaving the rest to see out their mission and purpose.

  And, a moment later, that's what they do, heading off into the growing darkness of the lands ahead, leaving behind the bulk of our force to follow on behind. I move to Perses's side as we return to the car, asking him what he said.

  "What he needs to know," he tells me, in that odd cryptic way in which he occasionally speaks. "I just hope they can complete their task without killing too many of our troops."

  He moves off, the sentiment the same as my own, as I watch him go a moment before following. Strange as all this is for me, it can only be torture for him. To aid Ares in getting Brie out is to put his own soldiers in danger. To deny him help would only cause distrust among those around us here. In the end, he has no real choice at all. And though the veil of the Prime has been lifted, he remains a servant in many ways. Just the same as me.

  I return to the car, climbing in beside Jude in the back, who has remained mostly quiet for the last few hours. Ahead, Burns calls out for us to head off, informing us that we'll continue on until about midnight, before stopping for a proper rest.