AAS: SEASON 6: CH2: King and Country

Under the moonlit rainy night, a man in red armor sat in a trench, his blue eyes gazing down at his dirt covered hands that were torn and matted with blood.

His blood? Or someone else's? He didn't know, the cold chill of winter had numbed whatever sensations he had left in his battered body.

“Fuck this sucks.” Conrad sighed, turning his green eyes to his battle buddy who let out a low chuckle.

“Whining isn't going to help,” Ferdinand said, the man half asleep on a wooden trench wall with his arms crossed clutching his m-20 rifle. “But coming over here and cuddling me will.”

Conrad shifted his head.“That's gay.”

“I'm cold.”

Conrad sighed, “Yeah me too.”

Several moments passed, both men shivering in their positions.

“Fucking gay man,” Conrad hissed, moving over in the trench to sit with his friend with his head on the man's shoulder.

“Aw. I knew you loved me.”

“Just so you know, I'm not doing this because I want to.”

“Are any of us?” Ferdinand replied, the pair shifting to hold each other. “Fuck this sucks.”

“Whining isn't going to help.” Conrad quipped, Ferdinand shaking his head.

“Cuddling tonight are we gentlemen?” A man snickered, walking down the trench line, his red helmet obscured by the white hood over it.

““We’re cold,”” Ferdinand and Conrad replied.

“Same, make some space,” Achmad said, sitting down between the duo.

“Man… this kinda sucks,” Achmad groaned.

“”Whining isn't going to help.””

“So, when do you think the war will be over?” Achmad asked, nuzzling close to Conrad.

“For you? A LOT sooner than the rest of us if you keep getting any closer Akmood, god damn it,” Conrad snapped.

“Don’t mind Conny boy here, he doesn't know how to express his love, his parents left when he was a kid,” Ferdinand joked, resting his head on Conrad’s shoulder with Achmad doing the same.

“I hate you both,” Conrad sighed, shivering with his breath coming out foggy.

“So…?” Achmad said, closing his eyes.

“So what?” Conrad replied.

“The war. When do you think it'll be over?” Achmad asked, rubbing his runny nose.

“At this rate? End of spring maybe.”

“Really? That's pessimistic,” Ferdinand yawned.

“Realistic,” Conrad grunged, also yawning. “We've already lost. The brass just don't know it yet.”

“Ya know, they say that when one person yawns after another, it means they're connected,” Achmad added.

“Shut up, Achmad.” Conrad growled.

“Aww. We're connected,” Ferdinand chuckled.

“I hate you both.” Conrad replied as a crunch of boots took their collective attention.

“”“Sir.”” The trio replied, nodding to the Mage Captain walking in red armor that had no extra padding against the elements.

The red-eyed man looked down at the three, his brow raising.

“Cold?” Hoffman asked, eyeing the machinegun emplacement.

Conrad looked to his left and right. “Just a bit sir.”

“I'll send for a blanket,” Hoffman said, inspecting their trench area.

“Thank you sir.”

“In the meantime, cut up some more logs, I chopped down a few more trees so make sure to shore up your defenses a bit, word is a Selfian push is coming,” Hoffman said, easily shifting bits of the emplacement that would take two men to do.

“Yes sir,” Conrad replied, the trio watching as the officer walked off.

“So… Spring huh?” Ferdinand said, making sure the officer was out of earshot. “That means you're stuck with us for another four months.”

Conrad sighed, holding his head low.

“What do you think of the new Captain?” Achmad asked.

“Achmad has anyone ever told you you ask too many fucking questions?” Conrad hissed.

“Eh once or twice,” Achmad shrugged with his words coming out stuttery.

“I think he's alright. Tries a bit hard but he's good stuff for a mage,” Conrad shifted, holding back a sneeze. “Bit of a bleeding heart if you ask me.”

“Did you guys hear that the Selfian’s got a King now?” Ferdinand said, watching as a signal flare flew into the sky.

“Really? That amputee bitch getting dicked down now?” Conrad replied.

“Yup,” Achmad said, sitting up. “And get this, apparently the Selfian King is the son of the burning devil.”

“Bullshit,” Conrad scoffed.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Nah, I heard the same thing too. Big uproar with the trads,” Ferdinand interjected. “Heard a few of the traditionalists have gone missing after being too vocal.”

“Fuck. We really drew the short end of the stick huh,” Conrad sighed as a man came by, dropping off a blanket. “Then again, maybe this ain't so bad.”

****

Standing shirtless on the balcony of his luxury palace room, Jack observed the bustling city below that was teeming with life.

Two weeks had passed since his marriage to Selfia and coronation as king. And in those two weeks… he'd been stuck in his room.

He wasn't allowed to leave, nor was he allowed visitors. In fact, he was basically a prisoner who's visitations were limited to Ada and Kamila who brought him food, and the scheduled play time with Leona and Celeste.

A King captive in his own kingdom.

For his own protection? Perhaps. At least that's what Selfia said, but it was hard to tell with a woman he seldom saw.

“This sucks,” Jack sighed, head hung low.

“At least you have access to three hundred shows and the intranet,” Sahaqiel offered, the angel laying on his velvety red bed and hugging Ruby close like a body pillow.

“Yeah, but there's nothing good ever on.”

“Picky.”

“Probably. At least you can come and go as you please,” Jack said, turning around as a knock on the door took his attention. “Door's open. Let yourself in.”

The knob of the large wood entrance turned, the door opening to a familiar woman dressed as a stereotypical maid.

Ada strolled into the lavish room, the woman in a form of disguise as she brought Jack food on a silver cart.

Since the coronation, this was how the pair met, the two lovers unable to be public with each other in this castle constructed of vipers. Although most of the staff were gone, the guards there were liable to speak off duty, allowing the spread of rumors which would damaged Selfia's image.

At least, thats what he was told.

However, contrary to popular belief, the Kings were, on paper, allowed “fluffers” and “releasers” women who took care of his needs so that he may better service the queen.

But in reality, it was just a rumor spread by the Traditionalists to keep the Progressives happy during past monarchies.

Jack had no such luxury. Well, he did. But if it were found out there would be an uproar from Selfia's powerbase.

So a secret it was.

Ada didn't seem to mind so much as she found the affair hot, Jack on the other hand just wanted to leave the room.

“Well hello beautiful,” Jack said, approaching the woman from behind and hugging her, his hands cupping her breasts that were somehow larger than usual.

“Tanji! At least let's eat lunch first!” Ada exclaimed, batting the man's hands off her body that seemed to be getting slightly thicker.

“Fine, fine, what did Kamila cook today?” Jack asked, causing Ada to shoot a glare at him.

“Nothing! Because I made today's-”

“Oh.”

“DON'T SOUND SO DISAPPOINTED!”

“I'm not disappointed honey, I didn't mean it like that! I just-!” Jack quickly stated, attempting to salvage the mess he made.

“What? You just what? You just what?!” Ada snapped, suddenly crying.

“Smooth Jack.” Sahaqiel said as Ada began to full on sob.

WHAT?! I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE HER CRY!

“Ada-” Jack began but was cut off as she suddenly kissed him.

“Let's fuck,” Ada whispered, guiding a confused Jack to his bed.

****

“The hell was that?” Jack murmured as he lay there alone on his king-sized bed sweating.

He sat up, rubbing his temples. A headache forming as he looked over at the covered trays of food left untouched on a cart.

Jack lifted a silver platter, eyeing the charred contents within.

“Actually inedible,” Jack remarked, eyeing the bite marks taken out of several chunks of burnt meat. “How can anyone eat this?”

Eyeing the food, there was also cake, melted ice cream, and soups. All half eaten of course.

So much for lunch. How the hell did she eat so much from the kitchen to here? Jack pondered, eyeing the soup.

“Maybe she's pregnant,” Sahaqiel offered.

“Hah!” Jack barked a laugh, shaking his head before another knock on his door. “It's unlocked!”

“Daddy!”

“Celeste!” Jack spun, grabbing the little blonde girl in his arms. “Oh! How's my little sunshine?”

The girl beamed a smile, Jack's fatigue immediately melting away.

“Food!” The little girl pointed, indicating the plates of leftover food.

“Ah, you don't want that. Auntie Ada made it.”

“Oh,” Celeste let out, freezing in place.

“I'll getcha some ice cream later kiddo.”

“YAY!”

“Ehem,” Leona interjected.

“If you're a good girl.”

“I'm good! I'm good!” Celeste repeated.

Jack smiled, walking across the room with Celeste in his arms as Leona entered the room.

“So what game do you want to play today?” Jack asked, opening a cabinet that held a slew of expensive game consoles and board games.

“Jack,” Leona said, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Hm?” Jack turned his head, eyeing the folders in the red-headed woman's hands.

Paper? Not tablet?

Jack raised a brow at the extra security. Tablets could be hacked. Intellipads compromised. But pen and paper? Fool proof so long as a person kept the documents out of sight from nosy peepers.

“Celeste honey, how about you get a game setup while your dad and I talk real quick?” Leona said, Jack reluctantly letting his daughter go.

“Ok mommy!” Celeste said, grabbing a game console off the shelf along with various wires and controllers.

Jack smiled before walking off to the other side of the room as Leona handed him documents.

“What is this?”

“Files. On the High Table,” Leona said, Jack's eyes rapidly scanning over the paperwork. “Fresher data that we've collected over the last two weeks.”

“This… this tells me nothing,” Jack replied, narrowing his eyes. “Money transfers, shipments of liquid nitrogen? And apples? What the hell do apples have to do with the High Table?”

“As Selfia says, big picture Jack. Various cities in the Empire and the Corporate Alliance import apples from the Theocracy.”

“So what? The High Table is bankrolling themselves through Apple farms?”

“With their influence and power? Please. The apples are just a way to get around,” Leona explained, handing Jack a photo of a truck crossing a border. “Now, you know how the Theocracy is in shambles right?”

“Yeah. I've read Lita’s reports. Refugees. Blight. Famine. Everyday people struggling to get by.”

“Well isn't it funny that even though the country is-” Leona looked over her shoulder, eyeing Celeste humming to herself as she got tangled up in cords. “Gone to shit, they're still exporting apples? In such large quantities they can still service multiple cities across the word?”

Jack frowned. It was indeed fishy.

“Intel has three separate apple producing companies. Honey Rite, ApplesRUS, and Applee. All three companies service different areas of the world but they all meet in Neo-Chicago from three Theocratic cities.”

“This is all speculation,” Jack said, stroking his chin. “I've been waiting around for two weeks. I need something more concrete, Leona.”

Leona sighed

“I know. I know this isn't what you want to hear. But these things take time. If it were so easy we would have mopped up their whole operation years ago,” Leona explained as the room suddenly filled with audio from the flat screen TV blaring game music. “We've got surveillance on the trucks and are monitoring the companies. Right now, we need to see where they're going, when they're going, and if possible, get a list of all personnel and machinery that can lead us to potential HT facilities.”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose.

“All this waiting around is killing me, Leona.”

Leona gave Jack a soft smile.

“I know. We're doing the best we can with what we have. Checkmate is running round the clock and we've got agents in the field as we speak. We'll find her Jack,” Leona assured. “In the meantime. Cherise this peace. For as long as it lasts.”

Celeste approached Jack, tugging at his pants to get his attention with a game controller in hand.

“Come on let's play!” Celeste smiled, her childish innocence like a cool breeze on Jack's dark mind.