Misbegotten Memories

They departed at dawn. Every member of the vanguard was assigned a battle buddy as they emerged from the Stronghold. Hector's was the tiny Orisha man, who went by Twitchy. The meaning behind the name became obvious quite soon as the man had a neurological condition that caused his hands to spasm on occasion.

"Don't expect me to bail you out of any trouble," Twitchy warned Hector. "I'm a scout, not a warrior. Just so happens I can avoid the miasma better than most."

"Are Orisha resistant to it?"

Twitchy sniffed. "Hardly. I mostly don't breathe when the air quality gets bad."

"You don't breathe?"

The Orisha man rolled his eyes. "Don't know much about my kind, do you?"

"How much do you know about Xian biology?"

"Fair point," Twitchy said. "Every cell of my body has spatially expanded vacuoles that hold oxygen and glucose. I can go for hours without breathing if I need to. And I've got the standard spatial awareness, of course. Orisha are the opposite of Titans when it comes to mental senses. My main defense against the miasma, though, is that I can slip through space with my aura."

"I've seen plenty of that in movies," Hector said. Orisha were always doing short range teleportation of themselves. It couldn't bring other people, but did extend to things like clothes – providing they were close enough.

"I assume Xian just flat out ignore miasma?"

"Pretty much."

"That's annoyingly overpowered," Twitchy said.

George the Jinn directed the vanguard to advance in a specific pattern. He and the armored Arahant went down the center, the two Jinn commandos moved to the left, and Hector angled right with Twitchy. They moved at a fast walk, which proved far too slow for their preference.

"This is like standing still for an Orisha," Twitchy complained.

"I don't think the others can maintain much faster than this." Even as he defended the rest of their task force, Hector felt himself growing annoyed. This critical mission should have put more emphasis on mobility of the participants, in his opinion. He kept those thoughts to himself, aware that he was not a brilliant strategist.

They walked for about six hours before George called a halt. Everyone was able to eat some of the rations they'd brought with them and refill their canteens from the water Fred carried. Hector took the opportunity to speak with the steel barrel with legs that had been strapped onto the Rover.

"Thank you for your service to humanity, Wendy."

"You're welcome. I assume you are a dreamer?"

"I am."

"It's a shame we can't figure out the right argument to convince the real Xian to help out."

Hector didn't bother arguing that he was in fact a real Xian. Humans born on true worlds tended to view those from unempowered worlds as a lesser class of being. "Unfortunately, I think the only argument that could ever convince the people of Tian is force."

"That seems likely," the antimatter containment unit agreed. "There are sociology theories around how energy types impact human behavior. The Arahants always seem to trend towards authoritarian governance and cult-like devotion to leaders because the nature of their power is so interconnected and social. The Xian leaders become so individually powerful that they don't have any constraints on their behavior outside of their own morality, which takes the form of a horribly regressive form of retributive justice. And my kind tend to be dedicated institutionalists. Here I am, sacrificing my life for the cause. So very Jinn of me."

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"I come from a world with a lot of Jinn elements. Though there is a lot of celebrity worship and devotion to political leaders."

Wendy hummed in thought. "Perhaps unempowered worlds are the truest examples of what humanity truly is. There are no distortions of the social elements based on energy type. Just the background resonance subtly distorting outcomes. It's an interesting thought. Good talk, Xian."

As he turned to leave, Hector saw a familiar form sitting on the ground looking utterly drained. He engaged his mental sense to get a quick peek at the soul of Ugur. What he saw horrified him. Paper-thin cracks littered the man's body aperture. They weren't damage to the physical form, but the interface of the soul. Having spent a few years cultivating by this point, Hector intuited just how fatal this affliction would be. He didn't think Ugur had very long at all. In fact, he suspected the body aperture might fatally shatter in the next few days, causing the Titan to drop dead on the spot.

A massive hand on his shoulder caused him to turn. He didn't know this Titan, but the man looked kind. "The strong do not wish to be diminished by pity, Xian. Return to your duties and do not trouble Ugur with unwelcome sympathies."

Hector nodded at the stranger and walked away without trying to speak to Ugur. He had no words to make what was coming easier to bare. The warrior had come on this mission to die in combat. He didn't want an acquaintance to bomb him with a demeaning pity conversation.

George gave them a quick situation report before they resumed their trip. "So far we've been in the region around the Stronghold that sees regular patrols. We're about to go beyond. Don't expect the peaceful stroll in the park to continue."

The vanguard moved forward in advance of the main body, feet squishing through the decaying goop of the world. About twenty minutes later, the Jinn commandos opened fire on something. Hector held position and observed his surroundings as he'd been instructed by George. They weren't supposed to abandon their positions to aid each other. They each had a battle buddy to cover their back, but beyond that each pair was responsible for a sector.

The commandos handled themselves against their unseen opponent and everyone resumed the forward march when George gave a hand signal. They hadn't been traveling for five minutes before a swarm of the rat deviants appeared. That gave Hector a chance to show off his slick cable trick. Though it did not get the reaction he had hoped for.

"That was disgusting, Xian."

"It was effective," Hector said.

Twitchy spat on the ground. "You turned them into rat aerosol."

"The monsters are dead. Exactly as we prefer them."

"I like mine in a single piece on the ground. Easy to walk around."

"Maybe I will let you kill the next one since you're so opinionated."

The Orisha rolled his eyes. "Oh no, I'm so afraid. It's not like I can just teleport away from the evil monsters. Wait a minute. I can do that thing. It turns out your threats aren't scary at all."

"You're a bit of a smart-ass, Twitchy."

"And you give me the impression of a dumb-ass, Xian."

Hector couldn't tell if they were bonding through sarcastic ribbing or if they legitimately despised each other. He could go either way himself and the ultimate verdict would depend on how much Twitchy meant his words.

They next encountered a herd of horses each with a giant tusk like a narwhal. The effect was quite similar to a jousting knight leveling a lance at an opponent. Hector and his battle buddy found the monsters easy to avoid. Twitchy flashed around the area, avoiding every threat. Meanwhile Hector leaped sideways when tusks came close, then used his cables to blind the monsters and turn their heads to steer them into galloping away from the main body of their task force.

He was about to comment on how easy the herd had been to handle when he saw that the Arahant in armor who partnered with George was no longer among the living. Everyone gathered together around Rover Fred to receive updated instructions from George.

"I'm going to join the front squad of the box formation for now. The two vanguard teams will each cover one of the forward quadrants. I encourage them to fall back if they struggle with their opponents. We'll need guidance through the thicker miasma clouds closer to our target."

Everyone nodded along as George spoke. The man clapped his hands and ordered them back into action. Before Hector could return to his position, he caught sight of Ugur resting on the ground. The Titan lay on one side, staring dully up at his fellow soldiers.

Their commander noticed the situation and stepped closer. Servos whined as George squatted down beside their comrade. "There is room on the Rover for you, soldier."

Ugur gasped in a breath to speak. "No need. I'm done, boss. Go get the target."

After a moment, George nodded. "You were a hell of a soldier, Ugur. I wish you peace."

One by one, the members of the party spoke platitudes to the dying Titan. Hector joined their line and echoed the trite 'I wish you peace' line that so many others had copied already. There were no words to make what they did better. They were leaving a man to die by himself. Because the mission had priority and there wasn't time to waste.