《Titan Warriors - A Mech LitRPg》 Titan Warriors: Prologue - Mission Gone FUBAR Chapter Nada: June 22, 2018 ¡°Ghast 5 to Ghast Lead!¡± ¡°Ghast Lead, here. Report.¡± ¡°Sir, we are pinned down. I have lost 2 with another 2 injured. It is that damn Armor unit, sir.¡± An explosion shook the half burnt out building where Ghast Lead and his remaining three man team were hunkered down. Grey ash and brown sand fought to hide their desert camos. ¡°Fuck Rogers! Sir Rogers was just hit! What the fuck went wrong sir¡¡± Another explosion cut the last message off. Ghast Lead watched as the building across the dirt street where Ghast 4¡¯s team had been holding up, collapsed. Even knowing no one was there to listen Lead responded, ¡°I¡¯m not sure Ranger. But, someone fucked up bad.¡± *** 6 hours earlier*** ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± As the last member of the ten man Airborne Ranger team left the plane before him Lead sent a radio blurt to the General who he knew was listening in. ¡°Sir, Ghast team is a go! Repeat Mission is a go!¡± With that, he jumped out the back of a perfectly good high altitude plane. As he fell through the upper reaches of the atmosphere, he reviewed their mission in his head. Intel had confirmed the location of a High Priority Target. A target his government deemed necessary to take out. The man was currently supposed to be hold up in his Estate House inside the set of buildings and dirt roads that functioned as a city in this part of the world. The estate was a 25-acre compound lined by a two meter tall concrete fence. Guards wielding automatic weapons patrolled there perimeter at regular intervals. Inside was a lightly wooded luxury mansion at complete odds with eh stark poverty found outside the compound. The large modern mansion was flanked by two equally large garages that held the man¡¯s expensive collection of luxury sports cars. Tucked close behind the mansion, an Olympic sized swimming pool sat. Its¡¯ large playboy mansion style grotto was illuminated bright enough to easily pinpoint from orbit. Its brilliance standing out crisply from the darkness of the desert community built around it. The mission was simple. Get in unseen. Eliminate the target with as little collateral damage as possible. Then get to the extraction point as quick as possible. In, out and on your way. Everything was going fine until Riggs hit that damned trip wire¡ They managed to land on target inside the Northeast quadrant of the compound undetected. No major injuries and in minutes the team was gathered. It was just like they had done a dozen times before. Then that all changed in an explosion of fire and shrapnel. Intel had assured them there was no surveillance or traps on this area of woods. The fucking Claymore that turned Riggs into a fine red hamburger meat let Lead know, the plan was FUBAR! Still they had a mission. With the element of surprise gone, he issued the commands and the team split into two teams. Fours team was to provide support while Lead took out the target. The five acres of lawns that directly surrounded the mansion had guards all over it by the time they reached it. With a hand signal, Lead took his team right and 4 went left. Exactly 180 seconds later 4 opened fire drawing the guards to them. Lead took the chase and charged his men close on his heels. They reached the mansion with no issues. Entry was a simple window smash and they were in. Lead took out the two guards who had heard the glass breaking with a pair of controlled three round bursts. A frantic room-to-room search began. Lead was happy when they found a secondary target sitting high off his ass in a fucking Jacuzzi tub with three nude women. The asshole had to of heard the gunfire. The girls clearly had they were terrified. Yet, there he sat so doped up that he didn¡¯t even respond when the bullets tore out the back of his head. ¡°Sir, this is too easy¡± 1 Complained. Lead felt the hand of fate close on his throat with those words. Still, he tried to recover the situation, ¡°Riggs would not fucking say so Private. Keep your mouth shut and eyes open!¡± ¡°Yes sir!¡± Returning to the hall, they found a man and five guards running down the hall toward one of the garages. Lead took a shot, but only hit one of the trailing men. Two of turned and fired back forcing him back into the bathroom. Peeking out he cursed seeing they had exit through the door. Less than a minute later, he and his men ran up to the door. 1 peaked around the doorframe. A wall of lead lit up his man. His helmet stopped man shot. But, others found his unguarded face, causing his brains to explode out into the hallway. As one the team reached grabbed a grenade and tossed it into the room. Two frags and a smoke grenade bounced against concrete before explosions and smoke changed the guards¡¯ lives forever. Taking point once again, Lead rushed into the room. More than two dozen men had gathered around the door. Now they were all either dead or dying. Ignoring the piles of bloody meat, he scanned the massive room. More than two dozen Ferraris, Lamborghinis and other high-end cars sat on small raised display platforms; like some kind of fucked up car show. Across the room, another door sat open next to a closed garage door. Sprinting Lead and his team of three survivors ran. Reaching the door outside 4 cut in through radio traffic. ¡°Sir! 6 Took out the target, but sir. He reports that he thinks it was a decoy!¡± 6 was an excellent sniper. If he had been watching for the target then it wasn¡¯t a surprise he had taken the shot the moment he had it. But, the man also had an excellent eye. So if he said the target was a decoy, then Lead believed him.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Turning Lead was about to acknowledge 4 and return to the building to sweep it once more, but 4 came back over the radio. ¡°Lead, the other garage door just opened and sir¡ they have fucking tanks! Three Russian T90s!¡± That was it. They had no way to deal with heavy armor assets like that. ¡°Pull back 4. We will sweep the mansion. Get your men back to the extraction point. The next six hours was a game of cat and mouse. A brief sweep of the mansion showed no further living souls inside. They had been led here after a decoy. It was probably a set up! Their bastard of a target was using them to take out his second in command! Intel said their military men liked the second more. One tank followed team two through the city, heedless of civilian casualties. Lead and his team however, managed to slip their pursuer and make it back to the pinned down team two just in time to see the building collapse on them. Looking back at his surviving men, he saw worry and fear, but mostly resolve in their eyes. Resolve to see the mission through. To get the job done. Making a couple quick hand signals that they watched closely. 8 nodded in understanding, before moving around and crawling through a crack in the wall. Ghast lead watched as his man went slowly from cover to cover. Crawling more than half the way in a low crawl. Until he reached the fallen building. When a set of four soldiers marched by barely paying attention Lead held his breath. Then as the ground shook from the deep thrumming stiletto of a nearly 50-ton tank rolling into view he cursed; but waited. Five minutes later he felt a tap on his shoulder nearly making him jump out of his skin. Spinning around he saw 8. Glancing behind him, he marveled he had not even seen the man come back, and he had been watching for him. Lead mouthed ¡°Report¡± silently. 8 shook his head slowly a deep frown pasted on his smudged face. He held up his clenched fist. Lead opened his hand underneath. 5 slightly damaged dog tags dropped into his open palm. This wasn¡¯t the first time Lead had lost men. God damn him, but he even now hoped that it wouldn¡¯t be the last. If there was others that meant he was able to get these two men. His last two men out alive. Placing the dogtags in his pocket. One last memento for families that would never know what their sons, fathers, and husbands died doing. He gestured for them to move on. Exiting the back of the building, they rushed across a mostly clean street into an alleyway. Moving through the piles of garbage and filth choking the narrow alley, they froze at the next street. There not 300 meters away was one of the three tanks. In its rush to out maneuver his other team; the tank had rolled through a building. Now though it sat there on top of the rubble¡ A child¡¯s hand sticking out of the broken stones, like the rest of the garbage¡ Lead was about to order them back up when the tanks hatch opened, to reveal none other than their target. The bastard was laughing through a thick dark beard common in this part of the world. Behind him, he pulled up a woman clothed from head to ankle. Her face was even concealed by a veil of cloth. The two were laughing together in voices that did not quite carry. As three more soldiers emerged from the vehicle: their target made some animated gestures. A few seconds later, the three saluted and ran off, guns held at the ready. The man watched them go for a few moments before he turned back to the woman. He stepped close to her, and then looked around once more, causing Lead to freeze else he be seen. Satisfied they were alone the man yanked the woman¡¯s robe off her to puddle on the muddy street. She stood there nude, illuminated only by the lights of the idling tank. Her dark skin contrasted with her small pert nipples poking proudly in the chill desert air. She moved to cover herself, but the man stopped her with a word. A tap on the shoulder made Lead look back. 8 mouthed, ¡°Sir that is him. We should take him out now.¡± Lead shook his head and gestured, ¡°Silently. Wait.¡± 8 nodded accepting the wisdom. Turning back Lead saw the man had taken the woman¡¯s headdress off and was kissing her roughly, pants dropping to his knees. As he shoved her against the tanks rough tread to begin his victory¡¯ reward: lead saw the girls face. She was barely a teenager! With the man¡¯s back to Lead and him roughly utterly engaged, lead snuck out from cover. Moving silently, Lead drew his knife from his belt. A mere two meters from the target the girl saw him. Her tear-filled orbs met Leads and then traveled to the naked blade in his hand. She silently watched him approach, while she was roughly being bounced up and down against the still growling vehicle. Lead let out a slow silent exhale and moved up the last few steps. Then in one silent quick movement. He pulled the man¡¯s head back and slid the blade across his neck. With eh red smile, the targets blood burst forth. Yanking him away, Lead threw the still dying corpse away from the girl. to prevent as much blood from getting on her as possible. Lead looked at the girl and gestured for her to follow him as he spun to leave. She shook her head and reached down to pick up her blood-splattered clothing. Lead was not going to risk his men for this girl, so with one last look at her he ducked into a nearby alley. Halfway down the narrow passage shouting could be heard from the street. Shortly afterward gunshots thundered through the night air. A flaking of mud brick near Lead¡¯s head made him duck down and look behind him. There at the entry to the alley stood three soldiers, guns raised and pointed. Before they could track on his hunched form, gunfire from above tore the three men apart. Looking up 8 stood on the low roof. His smile a brilliant white contrast against his ash and dust covered face. More gunshots from street level made him jerk suddenly. Then as if in slow motion, he fell into the alley. ¡°You fucking idiot! Lead seethed, ¡°Why did you just fucking stand there!¡± Moving through the alley, he made his way to where 8 had fallen, but before he got all the way, he could tell it was not looking good. The gunfire had torn through his lower pelvic region. One of the Ranger¡¯s legs was completely missing and his hip was a bloody mess. Shouting coming from the street told Lead he didn¡¯t have long and by 8¡¯s quick glance behind Lead he knew neither of them did. ¡°Sir it has been a pleasure. Pl¡¡± He took a moment to spit up a mouthful of blood and maybe a bit of organ¡ ¡°Please tell my wife and kids I love them¡¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up Ranger. You¡¯re going to tell them yourself.¡± 8 just smiled and drew his tags from around his neck. ¡°Are you really going to pull that feminist romantic bullshit sir?¡± Lead smiled and took the offered tags. Bullets zoomed past him telling him, he was out of time. As he half ran half crouched away, 8 pulled two grenades from his vest. ¡°Come get some. You motherfuckers!¡± Lead ran across a narrow garden, tucked between buildings and into another alley before the grenades went off. Turning the corner, Lead nearly shot 7 on instinct as the squads only woman appeared like a ghost. ¡°Sir, you fucking kicked up a hornets nest. That bitch is directing them in our direction now. We need to go!¡± Not wasting time on words the two rangers misted into the dark city. An hour before dawn they emerged 27 kilometers from the city. Their extraction point was just on the other side of the upcoming hill. Their bird was to wait until sunrise and then take off, with or without them. But at this point Lead was not worried. IN 20 minutes, they would be there. The mission high was already starting to wear down. It had been slightly more than 30 hours since last he slept and the last couple of hours of running through nearly open terrain while avoiding detection had worn him down. But when 7 stiffened besides him, Lead stopped looking at their 6 and looked forward. Figures moved on the crest of the small hill. Their silhouette clear in the lightening sky. Then the rumble of a tank¡¯s engine, and blaring spotlights broke the waning nights hold. There in the shadow of the hill one of the tanks sat. Its lights shining directly on the two Rangers. Lead brought his rifle up to his shoulder ready to fight;7 following his lead. A soft female laugh made the two pause. The girl stepped into the light. Her smile hidden by her veil if not her mirth. In perfect English void of any accent she said, ¡°Rangers lead the Way! That is your motto right, American?¡± Lead frowned, his finger twitching to pull that last millimeter on his trigger. ¡°Why?¡± he rasped. She laughed again a beautiful cold sound. ¡°That bastard lured your people here to kill my husband. I loved the man. Yes, he liked his coca and stuck his dick in anything that would stay still long enough. But, he was a good man. A good provider and protector. His men and I loved him.¡± ¡°That is why that bastard lured you here. He dare not move on my husband himself. But, you Americans¡¡± she spit on the ground. ¡°You self-righteous foreigners who think you always know best¡ Well he called you, like the dogs you are!¡± Lead had heard enough; he pulled the trigger as gunfire erupted through the desert night once more¡ Titan Warriors: Chapter 1 Chapter One: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location. April 1, 7215 As darkness descended on Brandon the pain vanished, being replaced by nothingness. No sensations, no lights, no sounds. Just nothing. Brandon could not feel his body; not even to blink. He could not even say black surrounded him because that would mean there was at least color. An eternity or maybe just an instant passed as Brandon had no concept of time When a Voice Boomed out of the nothing, Brandon might have jumped out of his skin if he could say for sure he had any. ¡°Earth Simulation Completed. Analyzing¡ ¡°Who is that? What is going on!?! Am I dead?¡± Brandon called out to the oddly mechanical voice. ¡°Analyzation complete: Grade A- received. Conclusion¡ subject S187-TR23-Nub6120-01-10-00147 PASSED.¡± ¡°What the hell does that mean? I passed? Passed what? Where is my team? IS this a prank?¡± ¡°Subject S187-TR23-Nub4129-01-10-00147 please choose a designation¡± Brandon always thought of himself as a quick thinker. His life on the battle fields had proven to him that being able to make a sound decision on the spot could save the life of himself or his squad. So, when most people would have been confused or let the strangeness of the situation affect them Brandon instead made a choice and acted on it. ¡°My designation is Brandon McDew. Now tell me where the fuck I am!¡± ¡°Designation accepted. Brandon McDew, choose a body.¡± Now this one gave him a seconds worth of pause. But an image of himself as he appeared before leaving the base two weeks ago came to mind. Suddenly he was there. In the nothingness Brandon stood naked as a newborn but not nearly as cute. A look of shock passed over the battle hardened face of the Ranger. ¡°What the fuck?¡± ¡°Confirm body specifications.¡± ¡°Do what? Confi¡¡± But he trailed off thinking rapidly. With a few thoughts his body shifted and altered slightly. Brandon had always been a little shorter than he liked. Then what man didn¡¯t want to add a little more for the ladies. But the biggest changes were cosmetic. Gone were all his scars. The slight curve where he had broken his nose in a bar fight was gone. The large gash where he had a pound of shrapnel removed from an IED explosion was similarly missing. There might of even been a little more hair growing on his head, filling in his flattop. Or, perhaps a little less elsewhere but he would never admit to it. The voice repeated, ¡°Confirm body specifications.¡± Without hesitation now Brandon said, ¡°Confirmed. Brandon had enough time to consider is situation and decide that if this was Heaven then someone had not given him the entrance in the front doors. Hell was more likely, but why would they let him choose his body in hell? To then take it away? Or perhaps to break it and maim it piece by piece. ¡°Perhaps I should of kept the old one.¡± Without warning the world around him changed. He was suddenly sitting in a stiff plastic chair in a white space . There was no walls, floor, or ceiling to give any definition to his surroundings. Around him there were others also sitting in similar ugly puke green plastic chairs. They all faced the same direction. As He glanced around more people were appearing rapidly. There were men and women of every Ethnic group that Brandon had ever heard of. There were even some whom like him, had obviously discovered the ability to alter their appearances. The guy next to him was dressed in the same Royal Purple and Silver Uniform everyone else was, but his hair was cut in a military buzz. A military buzz composed of electric blue hair. He also had more muscles than anyone not living in a gym and on some hardcore steroids could ever acquire. The man turned and met Brandon¡¯s eye. The man¡¯s eyes were the same shade of blue as his hair.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. In the few seconds that it took Brandon to look around the number of occupied chairs had increased from some twenty to hundreds. Someone called out, ¡°What is all this rot?¡± Brandon turned to find the speaker, but before he could the voice rang out again. The way the others jumped, or grew stiff in their chairs he knew they could hear it too. ¡°Welcome recruits to House Nubran. In 15 seconds a screen will appear in front of you and a personal advocate will help you choose your path to best serve and bring glory to the mighty Baronet Reginald Nubran and to the honor of House Nubran. This process will take roughly 15 minutes as we begin to grow your bodies.¡± Brandon took in the statement quietly, knowing the value of gathering intel. One of the others in the room did not seem to like what they heard. ¡°Who the fuck is this Baronet what¡¯sh¡¯ma¡¯call¡¯it¡¡± The man had asked one of the many questions everyone was curious about. Although Brandon would of started with the growing of their bodies, but regardless he spun to look at the speaker who had started making choking noises midsentence. A few rows back and a couple more seats over a man suddenly stood up his face turning a nasty shade of red in an instant. A second after that his head exploded in a shower of bone, hair and grey matter. The people around him flinched as gore flew toward them, but they need not bother. The little bit of brain the man had vanished midair a foot away from the corpse that had just fallen onto the floor and vanished as well. The room was utterly silent. Brandon was familiar with this kind of silence it was the kind that preluded violence and panic. The voice evidently knew this too. ¡°Enough! You all are now and henceforth property of his lord Baronet Reginald Nubran and his house. If you are deemed troublesome you will be terminated without preamble.¡± People shifted uncomfortably, for a few pregnant seconds in silence. ¡°Wait for it.¡± Brandon thought to himself. Then as if on que a couple dozen people across the white area stood, shouted, or in some other way responded with prejudice to the declaration. Not a second later more headless corpses began to fall to the floor. Brandon grimaced at the casual murder. He was not yet fully convinced this wasn¡¯t some kind of screwed up dream, but if it wasn¡¯t this Duke and his people seemed to not care about the group Brandon found himself in at all. Before more people could commit acts that amounted to little more than suicide a foot and half wide by a foot high box appeared before each person in the room. Inside the box was an image of a brain suspended in a viscous grey-yellow liquid within a glass tube. Bubbles floated up from the bottom toward and then passed the brain. Machinery could be seen with tubes and cables connecting to the tube. At the top and bottom of which was more machinery with lights coming on, shutting off, or just blinking. The voice spoke again, ¡°You are all now looking at everything you currently are. The you sitting in the chair is a shared simulation projected into each of your brains. Your brains were created in a lab owned by House Nubran. You were then each projected into a simulation of the Earth in the years between 100 and 2200.¡± The image zoomed out into a massive chamber full of tubes each with a brain occupant. ¡°The goal of the Earth simulation is to mature and teach each of you at an accelerated rate. This way a fully mature personality can be developed at the speed of 1 standard day per simulated Earth year.¡± As Brandon watched in mixed confusion, horror, and somehow acceptance, the image began to zoom back in and then split into two. The one on the left was of Brandon¡¯s brain, as a cart like machine with pinchers came up grabbed his tube carefully. Then removed it from the machinery connecting it. Once free it placed Brandon¡¯s tube in a cart behind it with other tubes and brains. The right image showed another identical looking brain in another tube. ¡°At the moment of death each person in the Earth simulation is evaluated and rated for usefulness to the House of Nubran. Those who have skills, talents, or abilities that are considered useful are sent into the whitespace. A cocktail of chemicals is then fed to the brain to slow its cerebral speeds, create a sense of calm and acceptance, and finally to prepare it for growth of a body.¡± As the voice spoke the image on the right suddenly had one light after another turn red. When a set of 10 lights on both the top and bottom of the tube¡¯s machinery were a solid red a blast of electricity was sent through the tube. The flash was bright and Brandon had to blink rapidly afterwards to clear the spots out of his eyes. The brain in the tube had been blasted apart and was quickly dissolving in the liquid. In a few seconds there wasn¡¯t a trace of it. ¡°The simulations, whom are not found useful, have undesirable personalities, or committed crimes are recycled for nutrients and fed to the next batch.¡± The right image slide out of view leaving only the left one as it followed the forklift like machine through a door and out of the massive chamber. The machine passed through a few more halls with branching connections. Other machines were everywhere as well. Some were like the forklift like one, with their own cart full of brain tubes. Others carried empty tubes in the opposite directions. As Brandon Watched the machine entered into another huge room. This one had much larger sized tubes in it. These tubes were easily 8 feet tall and could hold a full grown human with room to spare. Indeed many of them did. Brandon¡¯s eyes watched as they sped past tubes containing human bodies in various levels of creation. Some were little more than a skeletal system. Others had organs and muscles. Not one looked completed though. ¡°Congratulations! You have all been determined useful. As such in a few moments your personal advisor will begin the process of choosing your future in House Nubran. Although the Baronet gives you the privilege to choose how you desire to serve, sedition is not allowed. The Baronet in his glorious benevolence wishes you to have happy, healthy, and fulfilling lives. But, any refusal of orders, violenc??e toward the royal family, or plot to overthrow the rightful reign of the House will result in your immediate deletion.¡± Titan Warriors: Chapter Two - Conscripted Chapter Two: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location. April 1, 7215 Brandon¡¯s screen showed the machine stop in front of an empty tube. It reached back picked up his container and then without ceremony dumped its contents into the larger container. Brandon swore he felt a lurch as he witnessed his brain fall and then splash into the now rapidly filling larger tube. ¡°well the drugs must be working really well. I just watched my brain be tossed around like some unwanted jello mold and had no real reaction. For that matter I am fully accepting this god awful situation at face value.¡± Brandon mused in a low whisper. The screen in front of him shifted to show a bored looking young woman. Her dark skin and black curls looked dull and lifeless. ¡°Well that is good.¡± The new figure said in a flat tone. ¡°It is always painful for new candidates to be shown candid images from the simulation of their lives. Memories of dead loved ones, moments kept private from the world and such.¡± Brandon¡¯s mind flashed a few such memories through his mind and was rather glad he would not have to share his most private moments with this poor excuse of a bureaucrat. The woman directly behind Brandon began to scream, ¡°No more¡ No more¡ I believe you. Oh for god¡¯s sake please just let me die. I can¡¯t live knowing everything I knew was a lie.¡± Brandon turned to look at the balling woman as she stood still screaming in hysterics. She took two steps before she collapsed to the ground and a couple seconds later vanished. The bored advisor¡¯s eyes moved from watching over Brandon¡¯s shoulder back to him as he turned back around. ¡°Well there are always a few of those too.¡± More crying could be heard in the room now. Oddly enough though it seemed that for the most part their conversations were being muted. The blue haired man was talking animatedly but Brandon couldn¡¯t hear a noise from him. ¡°Noticed did you? We block all sounds to protect your privacy. Others cannot see what is on your screen nor hear what is said while talking to your advisor.¡± ¡°Unless you want us all to hear it.¡± Brandon said, thinking of the lady behind him and the other noises around him. ¡°Yes, of course.¡± The woman¡¯s voice never shifted, changed or showed even the slightest bit of inflection. ¡°Well we should get started. I go on break in 15 minutes, and I¡¯m sure you do not want me to just randomly assign your aspects. So let¡¯s get started. I am Personal Advisor Nub23FA12564. I will be your House Nubran assigned personal advisor. Finally my name is Jandice. I will be leading you through the assignment of your Verric Nanites, as well as placement into your new position in our great House Nubran. First let me start with a small data download to your cerebral cortex.¡± Before Brandon could fully process the woman¡¯s statement her hand had moved and lance of pain shot through Brandon¡¯s head as news articles, data files, videos, and a jumble of other information sped through Brandon¡¯s mind. In 30 seconds he learned a lifetime of common knowledge of the modern universe. He spent another few minutes processing the information download. As the pain faded he considered his new knowledge. Apparently, the year was 7215. Humanity had spread to the stars millennia ago and now had colonized the entire Milky Way. Countless non-human species had been encountered in Humanities spread. In most cases war broke out and often ended in the utter extinction of the alien species. In the year 3226 Humanity had encountered an artificial life form calling themselves the Verric. The tiny machines called nanites could configure themselves to any larger construction on a whim. They had one purpose to bring order to the galaxy. Naturally Humanity had objected to any authority other than its own. The ensuing war was the closest Humanity ever came to losing a war; other than with itself. The Governments that survived the brutal wars that had made Earth uninhabitable, fell one after another to the Verric. The power vacuum left a system of aristocratic rule to govern the shattered Human civilization. originally the system was based on individual achievements, but later it became conferred by heredity. Large Noble families and super companies became the rulers of human occupied space. The Verric upon shattering the human resistance vanished. Many believed they left to another galaxy to spread their influence. Regardless, they never completely left. Every human, non-human and animal in every system now contained Verric nanites in their bodies. These nanites seemed to live in a dormant symbiotic state. The nanites drew nutrients and material to reproduce from their hosts. Humans gained numerous other benefits. The two with the most impact are a census system that tracks a person¡¯s data. Physical Attributes, Skills, property, and even social organization. The second alteration is an improvement system akin to leveling in a role playing game. Although the methods to gain experience is numerous, once a new advancement is gain the nanites will allow the host to select improvements to their attributes, skills, and abilities. Often these changes can take a host far outside what is normally possible by biology alone.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The screen in front of Brandon shifts again, splitting apart into right and left views. On the Left the image of his melancholy advisor sits. On the right returns to the image of a brain floating in a larger glass-like tube. Now though there are what appears to be tendrils dangling from the brain. A thick one comes from the bottom back of the brain and hundreds if not thousands of smaller ones, some as fine as a hair stretch from it. The Human Nervous system is on full display for Brandon. A jolt of concern pushes through the calm inducing drugs when he realizes this is HIS nervous system. As he watches white patches begin to appear on the top of the brain and along the length of his spinal cord. The advisor draws his attention back to her with a slight cough. ¡°So now we will begin the process of developing your body. As you know, there are 8 characteristics or Statistics the Verric use to determine a person¡¯s abilities. Strength, Dexterity, Agility, Vitality, Perception, Intelligence, Resolve, and Charisma. The biological Human maximum is rated as a 1.¡± ¡°In a trueborn genetics and training determine a person¡¯s exact value. For you vatborn we choose your genes and design your body like if you had been a professional athlete, world class intellectual, and cult leader all rolled into one.¡± ¡°your sire has blessed you as such. The vat born of House Nubran do not have the average .5 stat the most of humanity endures. Instead you get a resounding .7 in them all. Praise be to Baronet Reginald Nubran!¡± Brandon¡¯s eyebrows twitched as he considered this notion. ¡°I¡¯m sure the nobles and wealthy alter their children¡¯s genes to increase their abilities too. This sounds like medicine wrapped up to look like candy.¡± As the advisor prattled on about the glory of House Nubran Brandon Considered what he knew from the download about each stat. Strength was the primary physical score. It showed a person¡¯s muscles ability to lift, pull, squeeze, and hit. Dexterity was a person¡¯s score representing hand and eye coordination , aim, instinctual spacial awareness and fine motor skills. Agility is a person¡¯s reactions, balance, and flexibility. If dexterity pertains to the conscious portion of a human¡¯s movement agility is the unconscious side. Vitality measures endurance, immune system strength, recovery rates, and one¡¯s general ability to abuse one¡¯s body. Perception is a person¡¯s situational awareness, It also shows how acute the 7senses are. ¡°wait what? Seven senses? I thought there was only 5?¡± As Brandon thought that, the answer came to him. Two additional senses were positively confirmed in the twenty-second century. Empathy is a person¡¯s sense of another lifeforms emotional, mental and spiritual state. All humans have a level of it that they use to communicate on a subconscious level. Psionic is a sense that humanity has fantasized about for ages, but when Humanity came across an alien species that could truly use it to a measurable level it became a reality. The average human Psionic sense is so low that most people¡¯s sensitivity never even registers on the new acuity scale created to measure it. A few though have markedly stronger gifts with this sense. With a slight shake of his head to clear the distracting side thoughts Brandon continued. ¡°Strength, Dexterity, Agility, Vitality, and Perception¡ next would be¡¡± Intelligence gauges a person¡¯s mental faculties. Their logical reasoning, deduction, memory, and speed of thoughts are all measured by it. Resolve is a person¡¯s willpower. Someone with low resolve may have an addictive personality, or could be easily pressured into things by others. High Resolve can keep someone from sub coming to Psionic or Empathic attacks. Or even go as far as to keep someone alive when their body is at the point of shut down by determination alone. Charisma denotes a person¡¯s physical beauty and pheromones, thus how attractive they are to others. This also measures how likeable someone¡¯s personality is, or their inborn ability to have others follow them. Brandon¡¯s thoughts concluded and he focused back on the advisor whom had grown quiet as if expecting some kind of response. ¡°umm¡ I¡¯m sorry could you repeat that?¡± Brandon Hedged. With the first emotional response Brandon had seen the Advisor sighed in frustration. ¡°I was saying your performance in the Earth Simulation marks you in the highest 99% of candidates. An the top 10% of new recruits. Based off our skills I suggest you join the House Nubran Military. Perhaps even as a Titan Jock .¡± ¡°A what?¡± The image of his nervous system and forming skeleton disappeared replaced by a scene of battle. Soldiers ran through a field shooting over their shoulders at something off screen. A large tank rolled into view as it ran over a couple of the fleeing soldiers. It¡¯s large turret barrel also facing behind it. Then a beam of energy shot on screen spearing through the previously impressive tank. The blue white blast cut through the thick armor like it was butter. The ammunition inside the doomed vehicle must of ignited because in a magnificent explosion the entire turret housing flew 10 meters into the air. A secondary explosion blasted the massive hunk of metal a half meter off the ground. Before the turret had landed a large metal foot came into view, followed by a 8 meter tall mechanical god of war. Brandon gasped, ¡°A mech¡± ¡°we call them Titans. They are the core of the modern military.¡± ¡°And I can drive one?¡± He was special forces through and through and right here and now Brandon couldn¡¯t think of anything more ¡®special¡¯ than driving a freaking mech! ¡°Well, your score is high enough that with the right allotment of points you could qualify to be a Titan Jock.¡± ¡°A what to do whom now?¡± Brandon¡¯s mind was racing but something about the way she worded the statement put him on edge. With a flicker of a frown the advisor reached to the side of her off screen. Suddenly a rush of calm and acceptance rushed over Brandon. The issue with her words, heck even the fact his old life wasn¡¯t real did not matter. He knew this advisor would do him right. ¡°Well if you think it is best.¡± ¡°I do. So here is a standard House Nubran military contract.¡± A screen full of words flashed up. Brandon¡¯s eyes narrowed and he began to scroll down the massive document. Even in his doped up state he still caught a few points. First, the ¡®Vatborn¡¯ had to be given legal rights by Verric standard law. But, they were born to a life of indentured servitude. Each one was being charged for the Earth simulation, costs of growing them and system upkeep. Brandon couldn¡¯t focus on an exact amount. Regardless, he got the feeling that the low pay rates they would receive would make it where they would die still owing the house something called Intergalactic Monetary Credits ¡®IMC¡¯ which was used as currency in the whole galaxy. Reaching the bottom of the contract he pressed his thumb on the screen. Somehow it was solid for the instant it took for his biometrics to register and accept it as a signature. Titan Warriors: Chapter Three - Designing a Body Chapter Three: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location. April 1, 7215 ¡°Good¡ okay, so as part of the Standard military obligations the great House Nubran will pay for you to receive another 0.1 upgrade to your stats.¡± Brandon smirked, and thought, ¡°so they want to get accolades for improving their military forces? I would think it would be a common sense thing to keep us alive. Improving these stats has to be cheaper than growing a new person. Oh wait they are going to make everyone pay for their own growing. Like we have a choice.¡± A bitter smile crossed Brandon¡¯s face. ¡°Now on to your military profession. Your scores are extremely good and again I recommend the Titan Jock position. It will come with another 0.1 improvement to your stats, but House Nubran requires all of its Jocks to have a minimum of 1 in all stats.¡± ¡°So I can¡¯t do it?¡± Brandon asked. By his count his total would have been a 0.9. including the extra for being a Jock. He smirked and thought. ¡°No. This is some kind of gimmick. They are playing me.¡± ¡°Yes, it is true that with the two bonuses so generously granted by our Lord and Master that your Primary Attributes would only total 0.9. However, in the Earth simulation you earned 252 life points. These points are given by the Verric nanites to all vatborn. They are based upon your simulated Earth life. They can be used to increase your Primary statistics, Secondary Statistics, or skills.¡± ¡°there it is.¡± Brandon thought. ¡°So can you control the nanites?¡± The knowledge download said the answer was no. But, it was information given by the House so it may not be the truth. The advisor shifted in her seat uncomfortably. ¡°Uh no. During your bodies creation we can give them certain prods, but ultimately they do as they are programmed. Which is to say they try to bring a certain level of balance to the universe.¡± Brandon nodded thinking rapidly, ¡°So these points you mentioned are they assigned by you or the Verric?¡± The advisor waved her hand. ¡°it really doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Here take a look at what the system already recognizes you possessing in the way of Secondary stats, Tertiary stats, and Skills.¡± She made a couple gestures off screen and a new semitransparent Purple box with Silver lettering appeared in his vision. ¡°This is your Status Sheet. The Verric Nanites calculate it and project the image to your optical nerve. When your born you will be able to bring it up with a thought.¡± Name: Brandon Mc¡¯Dew Race: Human Subrace: Vatborn, Nubran AgeL18) Gender: Male CR: .54 (.72)( Advancement: (1) Faction: House Nubran Rank: - Primary Statistics Str: - (.9) Dex: - (.9) Agi: - (.9) Vit: - (.9) Perc: - (.9) Int: - (.9) Res: - (.9) Cha: - (.9) Secondary Statistics Marksmanship, Small Arms: 5. Hand to Hand: 3. Survival, General: 3. Explosives: 2. Marksmanship, Heavy Arms: 2. Survival, Arid: 2. Technician, Mechanical, General: 2. Driving, Wheeled: 1. First Aid: 1. Marksmanship, Sniper: 1. Sensor, Air: 1. Survival, Sub-Tropical: 1. Technician, Electronic, General: 1. Technician, Mechanical, Combustion: 1. Technician, Weapons, Small Arms: 1. Tertiary Statistics Morale; 0 Honor: 0 Reputation: 0 Karma: 0 Skills Language, English:3. Leadership, Small Team: 3. Running: 3. Art, Sculpting: 2. Climbing: 2. Communications, Bluff: 2 Language, Russian: 2. Mathematics: 2. Navigation, Land:2. Strategy, Land: 2. Swimming: 2. Traditional, Labor: 2. Art, Acting: 1. Communications, Diplomacy: 1. Language, Spanish: 1. Navigation, Sea: 1. Science, Biology: 1. Science, Chemistry: 1. Science, Physics: 1. Traditional, Commerce: 1. Traditional, Cooking: 1. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. As Brandon looked over the information the advisor continued in a tone of voice that showed she had said these exact words countless times before. ¡°This is just my best guess at your real sheet based on your performance in the Earth Simulation combined with what we have discussed so far. Numbers in parenthesis are the expected total once you are born. From here we can spend your earned points to upgrade your new body, or learn new things. I remind you that although your stats and skills show you have a good value in something that data is 4,000 years out of date. The weapons, tools, and equipment you know are so old they have no place anywhere but a museum.¡± Brandon nodded thinking, ¡°Yeah and this is one way they keep us dependent on them. Raise our minds in an age so far back that only the basics transfers over. But some things should be the same or at least close enough.¡± ¡°Mr. Mc¡¯Dew, you currently have 254 points. You can spend them with a thought for the next 3 minutes, after which point your body will be set and unspent points will only be usable on skills.¡± Brandon frowned, ¡°Wow no time to think this over huh? You said I need at least a 1 in all primary stats for the Titan Jock?¡± The advisor nodded. ¡°How much would that cost?¡± ¡°Primary stat increases cost 15 points. Secondary cost 10, and finally skills cost 5. You can look over a full list of known secondary and skills by thinking about it. Do hurry though your time is running out.¡± With a thought, he brought up a truly massive list of secondary stats and skills. A note at the top quickly explained the difference. Primary and Secondary stats are calculated to create a person¡¯s CR or Combat Rating. Skills were anything else the Verric decided to track. Brandon¡¯s mind whirled as all the games he had ever played rushed through his mind. Optimal builds, Power builds, and unusual builds that just worked well for him. ¡°No, this is not a game. This is my new life. I need to think about it that way. There will not be any rerolls if I mess things up.¡± Looking over his Status Sheet again his eyes caught on the rank position. ¡°I have a question.¡± The advisor just sat there, so he went on. ¡°What is my rank going to be?¡± ¡°Oh that will depend on your exact position. You record shows you lead a Ranger Squad with above average results.¡± Brandon nodded, ¡°If I plan on spending the points to get my primary stats to 1 and become a Titan Jock?¡± ¡°Then you would be given a Titan Platoon. The smallest unit of command. If you prove your leadership during training it would be confirmed and you would be granted the rank of Knight.¡± Brandon had no idea what that actually meant, but he had an idea. ¡°As a platoon leader would I get a Primary attribute increase?¡± The advisor shook her head, ¡°No only if your Primary did not meet the required level to become a titan jock. Brandon smiled, ¡°Oh but right now mine do not. So that means you will pay to bring me up to 1, right?¡± The advisor¡¯s mouth opened and closed twice. ¡°Well, n¡¡± But, the answer was given for her. To Brandon¡¯s amusement a new box appeared. Verric dictate -- ¡°Verbal contract enforcement between House Nubran and envitro Brandon Mc¡¯Dew. Judgement in favor of Brandon Mc¡¯Dew. House Nubran will be charged 1.5 million IMC for the costs of upgrading all basic Human primary stats of Brandon Mc¡¯Dew to 1 from the previously agreed upon level of .9. ¡°Holy shit! So these things really do enforce and regulate even the overlords.¡± Brandon thought to himself. The advisor eyes narrowed and her face blushed in rage, but she said nothing just pressed her lips together in a thin line. ¡°Well then. I guess that is determined, but understand that I¡¯m going to note your file of this incident¡¡± She paused then added, ¡°And do not think yourself smooth Knight. 1 is the standard that all House Nubran warrior caste is expected to achieve before they are allowed entry into the armed forces. So all you did is make yourself the equal of the true born.¡± Brandon¡¯s eyes twitched at this, ¡°So you intend on the vat born to be less than your ¡®true born¡¯?¡± The advisor just glared at him. You have 1 minute 58 seconds to confirm the rest of your choices. If you fail to I can revoke everything we have agreed upon up to this point.¡± Brandon growled but kept it quiet. He had pushed so far but made sure to keep it in a level he assumed would not end with this bland woman ending his life. After a brief consideration he decided to go ahead and spend the points to improve his Primary stats from 1 to 1.1. After all the house was going to help him get a freebie he might as well improve upon that. Especially, since it seemed that most Trueborn were already genetically perfect. There was no doubt in his mind that most would even be better. Doing a little quick math he realized he had roughly 134 points left after spending 120 to get his Primary stats to the increased level. ¡°Okay, I am going to be A Titan Jock. I need to know how to do that, or they will find some way to demote or remove me. It cost 10 points for each level of Secondary and 5 for each other Skill.¡± When the Advisor told him 15 seconds with a thinly veiled grin he confirmed his choices. In all he added. 3 Points in Piloting, Titan, Medium, which was the best the system would allow. 2 Points into Gunnery, Ballistic. 1 Point into Gunnery, Missile , and General. He also added 1 to Sensor, Land since it seemed there was a difference between it and the traditional radar/GPS he was used to using. Wanting to give himself more than just one option he also picked up a level of Pilot, Aerospace, Light which covered any small craft that could travel in atmosphere or be crewed by a small group in space. For his last Secondary skill he chose Technician, Small arms with the thought that pointing and shooting a weapon was easy. Especially if you knew how it worked and had a basic familiarity with weapons which he already possessed. Even, if it was outdated. Next he chose some skills that would help him navigate this new world he found himself in. He picked a level of History, local and system. ¡°It is always good to know the local history.¡± He got some leaderships skills figuring they may give him an update on any new processes discovered in the last 4000 years. And finally he found something called Protocol, Nobility and chose the Lesser nobility plus increased his diplomacy skill. ¡°If I¡¯m going to be working in a world with modern kings and queens I better know what to do when talking with them. Or, they may Red Queen my ass for some perceived disrespect.¡± With a final glance at his updated sheet he confirmed his point allotment with 5 seconds to spare. Name: Brandon Mc¡¯Dew Race: Human Subrace: Vatborn, Nubran Age:18 Gender: Male CR: 0.94 Advancement: 1 Faction: House Nubran Rank: Knight Primary Statistics Str: (1.1) Dex: (1.1) Agi: (1.1) Vit: (1.1) Perc: (1.1) Int: (1.1) Res: (1.1) Cha: (1.1) Secondary Statistics Marksmanship, Small Arms: 5. Hand to Hand: 3. Pilot, Titan, Medium: 3. Survival, General: 3. Explosives: 2. Gunnery, Ballistic: 2. Marksmanship, Heavy Arms: 2. Survival, Arid: 2. Technician, Mechanical, General: 2. Driving, Wheeled, Light: 1. First Aid: 1. Gunnery, General: 1. Gunnery, Missile: 1. Marksmanship, Sniper: 1. Pilot, Aerospace, Light: 1. Sensor, Air: 1. Sensor, Land: 1. Survival, Sub-Tropical: 1. Technician, Electronic, General: 1. Technician, Mechanical, Combustion: 1. Technician, Weapons, Small arms: 1. Tertiary Statistics Morale; 0 Honor: 0 Reputation: 0 Karma: 0 Skills Leadership, Small Team: 4. Language, English:3. Running: 3. Art, Sculpting: 2. Climbing: 2. Communications, Bluff: 2 Communications, Diplomacy: 2. Language, Russian: 2. Mathematics: 2. Navigation, Land:2. Strategy, Land: 2. Swimming: 2. Traditional, Labor: 2. Art, Acting: 1. History, Local: 1. History, System: 1. Language, Spanish: 1. Leadership, Large Team: 1. Navigation, Sea: 1. Protocol, Lesser Nobility: 1. Science, Biology: 1. Science, Chemistry: 1. Science, Physics: 1. Traditional, Commerce: 1. Traditional, Cooking: 1. The Advisor¡¯s mouth twitched slightly in a frown. ¡°Very well. Then Sir knight we are done here. Good day.¡± With that the advisor vanished. Leaving only the image of his still forming body as some kind of black cube was being attached to his spine right underneath his skull. Before he could even wonder what it was the world went dark around him again. Titan Warriors: Chapter Four - Noble Brainwashing Chapter Four: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location. April 2, 7215 Brandon awoke with a start. His lungs were on fire and felt like they might explode. On instinct he opened his mouth and gasped. A second to late he realized that he was in some kind of liquid. Eyes flying open as his lungs filled with liquid instead of the much needed oxygen. He was inside a large cylinder filled with an amber liquid. The liquid burned his eyes, making it impossible for him to clearly see outside the tube. Even with its walls appearing to be completely clear. Beginning to panic he reached out and slammed a fist on the glass. Between a surprising weakness and the friction of the water his fist barely thumped upon the glass. If he had been in any reasonable state of mind he may of noticed that there was red lights flashing outside his tube. The faint sounds of an alarm could also be heard. Yet, these facts were completely lost on Brandon¡¯s oxygen starved brain. Instead he Banged and slammed with no effect upon the glass of the tube. Going as far as to even kick and even slam his head on the clear prison once. His vision had begun to fade and the world around him was losing clarity when suddenly he was being sucked downward. With a splash and wet slap of flesh on metal, he stopped with extreme prejudice. The impact had two effects. First it knocked the liquid out of his lungs in an explosive gush. Second he discovered he was utterly nude. He did not even care that he could suddenly breathe! Instead he curled into a ball on his side and screamed, covering his freshly skinned sausage. A few minutes later he slowly became aware of voice talking above him. With tear filled eyes he opened his eyes and looked up. Three figures stood above him. One man and two women all dressed in black pants, purple and silver uniform looking shirts with white lab coats over them. One of the women held some kind of tablet while the other two figures studied him with clinical interest. Finally coming to himself enough his battle hardened mind kicked in. Rolling on his side he twisted and put his feet under him. In a low crouch he glanced around for anything he could use as a weapon. The scientists, for that is what Brandon assumed them to be, did not seem to be surprised by his movements. In fact the man looked at the woman with the tablet and clearly instructed her to do something. It was at this point that he realized they were speaking a language he did not understand. With a finger pointing at him the man smiled a look that did not reach his dark brown eyes behind thick glasses, and said something else to the two women, then turned and began to walk away. The woman now holding the tablet frowned as she saw the man turn and walk away. Her eyes met Brandon¡¯s and a look of displeasure flashed over her eastern Asian features. With a deep inhale she sighed. ¡°Fine, I guess your my problem.¡± Her Russian was worse than his if that was possible, but still understandable. Glancing around again for weapons, escape paths or anything else he paused. Getting his first good look around he noticed all around him were 3 meter tall cylinders. The bottom and top were some kind of Machinery . While in the center was a glass like tube containing people. Then suddenly he remembered. A split second after he remembered, the white space, the advisor, and the newly discovered purpose of his ¡®life¡¯; more information rushed into his head. Histories of people, families, cities, and Nobles flashed in his mind¡¯s eye. Followed by what amounted to years of etiquette and communications classes. Ways to properly show respect, while working to further his own goals with honeyed words. After that was memories of how to pilot a Titan. These images were so vivid and real he could nearly feel the controls in his hands. Even though he knew he had never once touched a Titan, he just understood them. Ultra-Light 15 tonners all the way to the colossal 300 ton Duplo machines that required two linked Jocks to pilot. He knew them all. Hatchetmen, Vipers, Astros, Braves, Ants, Firebugs, Odins, even the massive Ra. He knew the feel of each of their cockpits. Knew their unique textures. It was like he spent years learning about 100 different types of war machines. However, his knowledge for most was basic. Those that fell into the Medium tonnage range though. Those he had a special familiarity with. The information overload came so suddenly that Brandon lost situational awareness for nearly a minute. By the time he returned he had been helped to his feet. Embarrassingly he was now being dressed in a hospital gown by the slightly chubby woman who had held the tablet earlier.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I can dress myself damn it!¡± He didn¡¯t mean to snap, but everything together had put him in a foul mood. The assistant looked at him with honey colored eyes and smiled. ¡°Yes, honey you can. But, I¡¯m still going to help you.¡± Her Russian was smoother but still had a really awful accent to it. Almost bad enough to make him second guess his understanding. Sighing he resigned himself to be dressed by the oddly chipper woman¡ When he was dressed the other woman pulled out a device that looked like a garage door opener. Pointing it at Brandon she pressed a series of buttons. Suddenly Brandon¡¯s skin began to crawl. Gasping he looked down and froze stunned. The white hospital smock had turned into a liquid that was now rearranging itself over him. It flowed like liquid mercury clinging and ebbing. In less than 30 seconds the white smock was gone. In its place was a perfect duplicate of the Purple and silver military dress uniform he wore in the white space. ¡°Close your mouth. It is unbecoming of a Jock. It is simple Nanofibers.¡± She handed him the device and with a few simple instructions showed him how to operate it. The nanofibers could adjust to over a hundred different outfits in any visible combination of colors. Best yet the fabric was able to adjust to protect the wearer from a decent range of temperatures. It would loosen its threads to provide a thinner lighter fabric if the wearer grew warm. Then it would thicken and tighten its fibers if the wearer grew chilled. ¡°Now come along. For some reason you awoke a full hour earlier than your vat mates. It seems the Verric nanites complement your natural biology better than most.¡± The two women led him passed rows and rows of humans in vats. There were men and women of every ethnic group, size, and shape. ¡°How many of us are there?¡± Brandon asked the back of the women. For a minute he thought they may ignore him. But, when they came to an intersection of two paths they stopped. The plump kinder looking woman tilted her head then said, ¡°In your Offling there was originally two thousand. After equipment failures, nanite rejections, and cullings there is 1,102 left. I would think that if everything works as normal then after basic there will be about 750. Then job training will claim another 250 or so.¡± Brandon blanched. She only expected a quarter of them to live through training? ¡°Now I have to get a cleanup bot to clean your mess and then check on the others. Percimil here will lead you to your muster area.¡± Without so much as a good bye she turned and left. The taller woman turned down a different path and walked off at a quick pace. Brandon had to jog to catch up. Thousands of questions flew through his mind but he could not decide where to start, so he kept quiet instead. Brandon followed the woman out of the gigantic room full of tubes into a hallway large enough to fit a football field and still have room. Pilotless machines zoomed in neat orderly patterns that no human mind could of kept up with. As they walked briskly down the corridor Brandon thought he was about to get hit twice. However each time the vehicle in question moved around them, avoiding impact by less than a foot. When the woman made a sharp right in to a doorway that Brandon had not even noticed he nearly lost her. Entering the large room he was eerily reminded of the Whitespace. The only difference was this room had what must be a thousand empty egg shaped chairs, with an equally white set of shelves next to each chair. The woman gestured at the seats. ¡°Find a seat and wait. Once the others awake, the processing will start.¡± She spun and started heading out the room as soon as Brandon looked from her to the seats. The door behind him closed before he could even glance back. ¡°Well shit. They are not big on customer service here¡¡± Not seeing any difference between the seats he walked over to one near the back corner where he could see the only noticeable doorway into the chamber. To his surprise he didn¡¯t have to wait long. Other recruits also dressed in purple and silver uniforms entered the room minutes later . The door had barely closed before it opened again and a steady stream of people began to enter. Over the next twenty minutes people filed in to the chamber, slowly filling it¡¯s massive capacity. Many were men, but a fair number were women. All ethnic groups and body types were represented. Brandon remained by his corner watching and listening. One interesting point though was that just because they all seemed to be part of the same military now. Their benefactors did not grant them the ability to understand each other. For every new group there was just as a wide of range of spoken languages. The only thing they all seemed to have in common was a certain disposition that made Brandon think they were all past military. Or he reconsidered. They had been members of some military in the simulation. Finally the door stopped emitting more people. If there wasn¡¯t a thousand people in the room, Brandon would guess it was close. Slightly more than half had already found a chair and at most was trying to talk with their neighbors. The others were going from person to person trying to find someone they could talk to. Some had success, like the group near him that was slowly growing. They were speaking some rapid fire Spanish that Brandon could only catch a word out of five. All together it created a setting where the volume was slowly growing to an uncomfortable level. Suddenly the lights went out causing the white room to turn utterly black and all conversations to stop immediately in shock. Then the lights came back on once more. At the front of the room the wall there lit up like a massive projection screen. Everyone turned to the screen. Those close to an empty seat sat quickly. Rapid colors began to flash and a series of high pitched wails echoed from unseen speakers. The little shifting and movement in the room stopped. Those not near a seat or seating moved toward a chair almost robotically. Part of Brandon¡¯s mind struggled to remind him of something even though he could not take his eyes from the screen. In his inner mind a war was raging. Part of his Special Forces training was kicking in, while other parts dare not look away. He dare not, else he insult his master and Lord. His one true master Lord Nubran. Titan Warriors: Chapter Five - For House Nubran! Chapter Five: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location. April 3, 7215 Brandon returned to his senses some time later. He was now laying on a white cot like bed in a white room two and a half meters square. The only other thing in the room besides him was the same white cabinet as was next to his chair in the auditorium. ¡°Oh for fucks sake I have a massive headache!¡± Sitting up he groaned as stiff muscles protested from lack of use. Standing up he began to stretch and limber up while examining the room closer. Outwardly he looked calm and collected. Inside though a massive inner dialogue was playing out. ¡®Where the hell am I?¡¯ ¡®What did they do to me? Was that room a massive brain washing center?¡¯ ¡®Fuck I need to piss!¡¯ Spinning in a circle, Brandon searched for creases, or an opening that might denote a door, or vents, or anything really. His eyes were unable to see anything though regardless how hard he tried. On his second rotation, the cot he had slept on began to rapidly melt away. The cot dissolved into a white liquid that melted into the floor; before bubbling up into a new shape. ¡°Oh mother of god! My bed just turned into a toilet!¡± If he had to relieve himself any less he may have hesitated, but considering he was debating moving to a corner and letting lose, a mere second before; he just dropped trowe and let fly. Groaning in satisfied relief, he tucked everything back inside his uniform; only to have the uncomfortable feeling of the uniform moving against his skin. The toilet and his wastes merged back into the white floor; seconds before flowing back up into a new shape. While it did this his uniform flowed from around him into the small control stick he had been given earlier. Brandon barely grabbed it before it fell to the ground as his pocket disappeared around it. ¡°What the hell!¡± Now fully nude Brandon stood in front of what was clearly a shower with water already running inside the enclosure. Beside him, the cabinet opened up to show a small drawer with two identical control sticks and an empty slot for the one Brandon was holding. ¡°Huh, okay?¡± Placing the stick in the empty slot he saw a dim light envelop the device. ¡°Guess it is charging or getting cleaned¡ Or something¡± Trying not to freak out about the weird situation he was in Brandon stepped into the shower. In small niches under the shower head there was soap, razor, shaving cream and shampoo. ¡°Oh I hope this water is not my recycled piss¡¡± With a sigh he cleaned up. As soon as he rinsed the last of the soap from his body the shower stopped, and a quick warm wind spiraled around him locking him into a mini tornado that lasted for 15 seconds or so. Now dry and clean the shower began to liquefy running into the floor around him. Brandon stood there now clean and dry in the mostly empty white room. Stepping toward the cabinet he drew out one of the uniform sticks and tapped a button on it. The stick lit up as his uniform flowed out of it and onto his body. Now fully dressed Brandon looked around. The shower had vanished entirely being replaced by the familiar lime green egg chair and a stand similar to a mini table with a plate of steaming eggs and bacon on it. A cup of coffee sat next to one of what looked like orange juice and another of milk. Out of everything that had happened over the last half an hour this one gave him the most pause. It was one thing to shower or shit and not know where everything was going. It was another to have food appear out of nothing and then eat it¡ ¡°you guys wouldn¡¯t just poison your military, right? You need us to fight the other Houses. So this has to be real food. It can¡¯t be some Nanotech shit¡¡± Still not having convinced himself Brandon sat and began to eat. Years of military life had taught him when he had a chance to shut up and eat what he could. Surprisingly the food was not bad, he even found a biscuit and strawberry jelly that he had missed seeing. Sitting back in his chair with a content sigh he watched the now empty dishes disappear into the first opening in the wall he had seen since entering. He tried to see what was on the other side, but the opening was an exact fit so tight only Nano machines could manage it. Brandon looked around the small room waiting to see what was next. When the ceiling and walls around him began to melt away, he wasn¡¯t really that surprised, after everything else. He was surprised however to see he was still in the large auditorium along with the thousand or so others. Hundreds of Voices broke out as the walls lowered. Some even tried to enter into other people¡¯s cells. However the moment the last of the walls melted away the room went dark again. High pitched sounds erupted from unseen speakers causing a thrum to echo through the room once more. Lights followed next causing a multicolor strobe like effect, that created a myriad of odd distorted shadows and after images burnt into the eyes of all with-in the chamber. Brandon¡¯s special forces training with counter interrogation and brainwashing techniques kicked in.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The next three days followed the same pattern. He would wake up do his morning duties and then have the room around him melt away to reveal the brainwashing chamber. None of the recruits were allowed to talk to the others or allowed any other kind of interaction. They only knew the other recruits existed because of those few precious couple minutes as the walls melted away, and before the lights once more threw the room into a cacophony of brain melting chaos. During this time Brandon used every trick he knew of to protect himself. The one that seemed to be most effective was to constantly go over in his mind who he was and what was most important to him. The brainwashing kept slipping in tendrils of conditioning to obey the Noble houses. Particularly House Nubran. It was not his place to second guess his Lords or Ladies orders. It was his place to obey and die for the house when the time came. He was to watch for the golden eyes that denoted a Noble and observe the proper honorifics based upon their rank. He was to follow with-out question the orders of a Noble unless that order countered in body or spirit another order from a direct member of his Noble House. House Nubran first, all others second. His lordship Baronet Reginald Nubran above all others. Then he was to follow all lawful orders from officers in the direct chain of command between his lordship and himself. He was to be a good soldier. Work hard, obey and when the time came lay his life on the line fighting with honor for the house. He existed because Lord Nubran willed it and would remain so only as long. On the morning of the fifth day of his new life he awoke as usual and prepared himself. Only today his purple skin-tight uniform with silver edging had a decoration on his right shoulder. A patch was now embossed there in stark silver thread. Round shield like in shape; there was seven stars across the top with the first, fourth, and seventh larger than the others. Below the row of stars a hammer reminiscent of a large rectangle block of stone spit by a sturdy looking handle. The hammer floated above a sun like image that emerged three quarters concealed from the lowest point of the badge shooting solar like flares upward. Brandon somehow knew that this emblem was House Nubran¡¯s badge for the Titan Jock. It did appear to be missing his unit name and number on it, but the design was right. His implanted knowledge let him know the stars represented the 7 original Great houses. The brighter three being the ones House Nubran traced their ancestry from. The hammer above the star was the icon of the Titan Jock. When the walls descended this time so did all other furnishings except the cabinet. Forced to stand Brandon looked around at the other faces in the chamber. Here and there a cabinet with no one could be seen but for the most part other confused faces met Brandon¡¯s gaze. The large screen flashed to life with an image of Baronet Nubran in a perfectly tailored Royal Purple suit jacket and undershirt, with silver vest and aquamarine tie. The video began to play. Brandon was sure it was meant to seem like a live feed of the Baronet, but Brandon caught the small imperfections that gave lie to the situation. ¡°Congratulations recruits! You have started what I hope will be a long and successful career in my Noble armed forces. You will serve to protect House Nubran and its¡¯ allies from all threats foreign and domestic. A job I need each and every one of you brave souls for, because it is a dark day for House Nubran, indeed.¡± ¡°With the death of my mother, my siblings Lisa and Connor both dispute my birthright as oldest heir of the family. They have rebelled bringing war to our once peaceful star system. While my mother ruled, Pyillos enjoyed a golden age of peace and prosperity. Only needing to send forces to support our sovereign Great House as was our proper due.¡± ¡°Now though, the rebels have moved to take the throne of Pyillos from the rightful heir. Other malcontents who have long simmered hatred and resentment have also moved. They are attempting to claim by force what they could not by more peaceful means. These last two years have seen our peaceful star system drowned in blood and ash. Sadly though, I fear the fighting has just begun.¡± ¡°Recruits! Some of you have taken the first steps to be the backbone of my honorable warriors as Infantry, or Armor commandos. Others have stepped up to fly over my skies in powerful Aerospace planes. A few have even been chosen to represent the gods of the battlefield as Titan Jocks! Now, Battalion Attention!¡± Brandon and every other soldier in the room immediately stood rigid, arms pressed firmly down side, spine straight and legs together. ¡°Find your comrades in occupation and form up. Your Battalion Commanding Lord Knight will come to collect you shortly.¡± The image of Baronet Reginald Nubran did a smart salute where he crossed both arms across his chest, with fists clenched at opposite shoulders, and bowed his head. then with a quick snap his arms moved down his sides closed fists facing forward. ¡°For the honor and glory of House Nubran!¡± Everybody in the chamber did an exact copy of the salute and shouted, ¡°For House Nubran!¡± The image winked out leaving Brandon feeling confused in regard to his immediate reaction to the odd salute. Voices broke out immediately as fully half the occupants began to talk or shout at once. Banners floated down from above. Their silver on rich royal purple a stark contrast to the white space. Looking around Brandon discovered that there was one banner for each of the six main services of the armed forces. Infantry, Armor Cores, Marine seamen, Aerospace Pilots, Naval spacers, and Titan Jocks. The idea was clear they were to gather under each banner based upon their classification. Brandon was close to the Titan banner which matched his new patch, so he was the first underneath. Turning he continued to watch the other recruits. The majority it seemed was moving to the Infantry banner. Probably close to half the room. Another full quarter moved to the Naval banner. Brandon felt a pang of jealousy for these recruits. They would be going to space. While he was stuck planetside. The other four branches split the remaining quarter of the room. Marines got the fewest, which made sense with so much focus on air and space combat the need for a strong water-based service had declined. That is fewest besides the Titans who all told only had five people standing under the banner as the door opened emitting in a short skinny woman. She was maybe just over five feet in height and her tight purple uniform showed she was willow thin and waspish. Short black hair styled in a no-nonsense manner did nothing to soften a face creased from years of frowning. Eyes black as night glimmered with untold disapproval. The only thing that brightened her look at all was the specks of gold in the whites of her eyes and six golden diamonds on her lapels denoting her rank of Lord Knight. In a voice course and rough she screamed, ¡°Battalion! Attention!¡± As the room snapped to, she continued her dressing down. ¡°Okay your sorry excuse for shit-stains. Our Noble Lord Baronet Nubran has deemed it fit to activate the growth vats and birth you sorry Vatborn tumors! Now that your wasting oxygen on my planet, it is my duty to get you trained and ready to go die protecting those better than yourselves! I do not like you! I do not want to train your sorry asses! But, I was given an order to do so and by all the hair on Baronet Nubran¡¯s most glorious ass, I¡¯ll be damned if I fail at it! Do you understand, shit-stains?¡± ¡°The room vibrated with the shouted response, ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am!¡± Titan Warriors: Chapter Six - Sara Nubran Lunar base Chapter Six: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location. May 1, 7215 The next four weeks flew by in a blur of hunger, sore muscles, and exhaustion. The battalion was put through a more modern version of basic training. No deference was given to combat role, or rank. They were all expected to shape up or ship out. Except in this case ship out was in front of a very public execution. It seemed the Noble House did not take kindly to soldier¡¯s dereliction of duty. For the first couple days many of the soldiers were amazed by the genetically altered bodies they were given. However, that quickly disappeared when they discovered all it meant was they were expected to preform that much better, carry that much more, or survive that much longer. Brandon didn¡¯t even have much time to get to know anyone on more than a casual level. They were kept on such a tight schedule that not a single person found it appealing to lose valuable rack time to talk with their fellows. On Brandon¡¯s 31st day of life in this new existence the battalion was formed up on the muster ground for the first time. Five Company¡¯s, each with 5 Platoons. Each Platoon held 4 squads. Brandon knew each Infantry squad was supposed to contain eight men and women. Some in the gathering did. But the majority of Squads had a member or two missing. Slowly they were called one by one into the Lord Knight¡¯s office. When the Battalion¡¯s XO called off his name, Brandon snapped to attention and marched into the concrete building. He had not seen the interior of the Battalion¡¯s administrative office before. However his time in the Earth simulation gave him an idea and one that wasn¡¯t far from wrong. It seemed that no one had deemed it necessary to really change up the premise of basic offices in the last few thousand years. Brandon walked past the closed office doors of each Company commander. Voices could be heard with-in. At the end of the short hall a Fully armored pair of Marines stood at attention with eh Lord Knight¡¯s open door between them. Stepping inside the office Brandon was surprised to have both Marines follow him in before closing the door. With the two soldiers dressed in full powered armor that made them stand nearly 3 meters tall it was needless to say cramped. If this bothered the angry wisp of a woman behind the no nonsense metal desk glaring death at a holographic display it did not show. Brandon came to attention and stood there for a full three minutes while the commander¡¯s eyes rapidly moved back and forth. Although, the display was visible as phantoms of light from this angle it was not readable. She finally turned dark eyes on him grimace still in place. ¡°Congratulations soldier you have passed basic Infantry training and are now rated as an Infantryman. You can now serve House Nubran in glorious combat!¡± The zealot flare of a truly fanatical person flashed through her eyes. ¡°The psych levels show that your loyalty conditioning did not fully take.¡± Brandon froze, daring not to breathe. It had not taken Brandon long to discover that the majority of the other soldiers had drank the Kool-Aid and gone back for seconds. Even with as little personal interaction as he had with them, it was obvious. The Lord Knight let a long minute of silence pass as she stared holes in him. Then finally she nodded, ¡°however, you did not show any signs of insubordination, or traitorous inclinations. Since it is his Lordships design to get as many fighting men trained as possible I am making the call to give you the pass.¡± Brandon let out his held breath slowly and carefully. ¡°Now however that does not mean I approve of your request to become a Titan Jock. Those roles are the most coveted and sought-after positions in any armed forces galaxy wide. To have someone who may be harboring less than perfect loyalty piloting 25 tons of death god incarnate just will not due.¡± The holographic screen flickered drawing the Lord Knights attention. She navigated the screen with her eyes and implants only to have her already thin lips draw into an even thinner line. ¡°By his lordships hairy ass! Those House Sang Fe fuckers finally made a move! It looks like it is your lucky day Mc¡¯Dew we just lost a full platoon of Jocks and all Jocks in training are to be streamlined. The higher ups in their infinite wisdom think that if you¡¯re in 25 tons of metal it isn¡¯t as important to be able to fire a basic service rifle. I disagree. However, if I refuse your Advisor suggested role at his time due to my personal misgivings then I may be looking at a firing squad. So¡.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. She drew out the last word in to almost a hiss as she flicked something through the display. A ping sounded in Brandon¡¯s head as his internal nanites lit up his personal HUD to show he received a priority message. ¡°There are your orders. Get the hell out of here. Your shuttle is on the landing pad to take you to be someone else¡¯s issue. Dismissed!¡± Having never been told to stand at ease, Brandon saluted arms crossing his chest and turned on his heel. The Marines exit the room first allowing him out. In the hallway back Brandon stopped abruptly as the door in to 2nd companies¡¯ commander flew open. A young woman was being pulled out by a pair of Marines. Each one held the arm of the dark-skinned woman. For her part she hung there limply with wide dark eyes glancing around in shock. When she saw Brandon she yelled out. ¡°help me! They say I¡¯m not loyal to Baronet Nubran! But, I¡¯ve never done anything. You have seen me! I¡¯m loyal! Tell them!¡± Her pleas were cut off as she was pulled around a corner and out of sight. The commander of 2nd company locked eyes with Brandon for a brief moment as he continued walking down the hall, then with a bare nod, he shut the door. Brandon entered the main room and hit the call button for the elevator to the roof and the landing pads there. Another soldier joined him after emerging from 1st Companies Co¡¯s door. The doors dinged allowing both men to enter. A few seconds later they went up the four stories and emerged on the roof. As Brandon stepped out he heard a semi familiar scream, ¡°No please!¡± Then a single gunshot rang out from somewhere behind the Battalion¡¯s compound. Brandon looked at the man beside him, a fleet spacer judging from his patch. The man looked at Brandon and smiled a thin smile, ¡°For the honor of his lordship.¡± Then the man moved off toward the pad with a large shuttle awaiting the fleet solider. Brandon went to another shuttle denoted on his HUD as the one he needed to report to. A Socman stood there with a pad in hand. The woman looked at his name on his uniform then her tablet again. With a nod she smiled, ¡°Sir, you¡¯re the first of our cargo to arrive. We will be stopping to drop off the Aerospace TG¡¯s first. Then we will take you Jocks to yours. Have a seat and buckle up.¡± Brandon smiled back and was going to ask her a question, but her eyes moved past him. Glancing back Brandon saw another soldier coming this way. Letting it be he stepped up the ramp and entered the personnel shuttle. Shuttles like this were made to deliver troops from ship to ship or ship to planet. Sometimes for things like this they were used to act as a bus across planets. Not designed for combat or large amounts of cargo the thing was filled with seats. Big enough to support a full armored Infantry platoon it currently stood empty. The seats were stadium style with five-point crash harnesses that were pulled down from the top to secure its¡¯ occupant. Seating himself Brandon buckled in and waited. Over the next three hours the ship slowly filled. Men and women entered, found a seat and buckled up in silence. Every now or then a gunshot would echo through the open gangway. Sometimes preluded by a shout or scream. Sometimes not. After the first one though, no one jumped hearing the weapons report. Finally the last person entered and the Socman at the gangway stepped into the craft. ¡°Okay folks buckle in. We are heading out.¡± There was just a slight whine of engines and a jerk as the craft lifted off. The shuttle completed a perfect vertical takeoff, followed by a 145-degree horizontal spin, and then it blast into the air. Inside those near a window gasped. Even those who had performed their simulation in later times was still amazed by the huge seeming leap in technologies. The G-Forces that the occupants should have been feeling was nearly totally missing. Brandon felt like he was going 70 down an interstate, not moving at hundreds of kpH. In less than 10 minutes the shuttle slowed and lowered, again in a sensationless vertical decent, to the ground. A short distance away stood the largest airfield Brandon had ever seen. Watching out the small round window of the shuttle he gasped seeing the area from the air. He counted no less than 50 runways. Some of which could hold three b-52¡¯s wing tip to wing tip. Others were smaller and longer. Then there was countless number of landing pads like the one the shuttled settled on. The gangway lowered a minute before the Socman appeared ¡°Alright, you Aerospace cadets. Your chariot has arrived. Now get the hell off my bird!¡± A series of nervous chuckles came from around the shuttle as most of the occupants unbuckled and exit the craft. Outside Brandon heard the screaming of Drill Sergeants or their more modern equivalents. Less than five minutes after landing the shuttle was taking off again. This time the journey was farther¡ Much farther. To the surprise of the remaining five people in the seats they climbed and climbed, until the blue-green of the air darkened, becoming black. Brilliant stars glimmered in a view that nearly took Brandon¡¯s breath away, and he had never been one of those crazy ass holes who wanted to see space. Now that he was here though ¡ It was truly an awesome sight. The shuttle moved toward the planet¡¯s second smaller moon. The stellar body was locked in a trailing orbit of the much larger sister. As they neared Brandon got his first look at real Titans. In the haze of the moon¡¯s limited atmosphere he felt his mouth fall open. He now knew why the Lord Knight had called them the gods of the battlefield. Moving over the blue looking moon was true metal Titans. Brandon saw a platoon of four Apaches working on moving in formations. The ¡®tiny¡¯ Titan weighted in at a mere 15 tons and stood over two stories tall. Farther out Brandon could see the hulking form of an Arrow as it moved on some kind of maneuver. The 35-ton behemoth was more than 18-meters-tall and alone carried two Guass Rifles, two phasers, and a long-Range Missile Launcher on its right shoulder. The humanoid looking goliath was nearly impervious to all normal Infantry wielded weapons and could crush the life from a person with a pinch of its¡¯ perfectly functional hands. Titan Warriors: Chapter Seven -Rumble in the Elevator Chapter Seven: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Archer, Sara Nubran Lunar Base. May 1, 7215 As they landed, struts whining on hydraulic shocks, a voice came through the shuttles speakers. ¡°We will be opening the door in a moment. Archer has enough air to keep you from instant suffocation. I would still advise you to take in a few deep breaths though. It will just take you longer to suffocate. When you exit the shuttle you will see a set of stairs some 20 meters from the landing pad.¡± The static of the speaker broke off and with no warning the flashing lights of the gangway was the first clue they had opened the hatch. Taking the disembodied speakers advice Brandon breathed in a few quick heavy breaths. On his third the sound of air escaping in a whistle let him know the cabin was equalizing pressure. With one last deep breath he unbuckled himself and followed a lean short woman of Asian descent who had already made it half way down the still lowering ramp. The moonscape was incredible all on its¡¯ own. The vivid blue sand like surface was a clear indication of a Cobalt or other mineral rich soil. The thin atmosphere allowed the stars to be seen clearly even during the daylight hours. That is, if this moon even had day and night cycles Brandon thought. In the distance a forest of large blue capped mushroom like trees stood sentinel. Then spread across the surface much like weeds on earth a variety of red and blue leafed small plants could be seen growing anywhere open ground was exposed. His sightseeing was cut short by the burning sensation in Brandon¡¯s lungs, indicating that he need to move his ass or risk taking a breath of this alien moon¡¯s air. Hustling he followed the Asian woman¡¯s short cut black topped head into the stairwell. They went down the narrow stairs some two hundred steps or so before the stairs ended in a white concrete looking room. Bright LED style lights in a white-yellow provided a dim illumination of the 5meter cubed space. Set into the wall directly across from the stairs was a set of metal sliding doors with black and yellow tape on their elevator like adjoining edge. Finally having to Breathe Brandon exhaled only to gasp. As he tried to breathe in his lungs struggled to pull in the thinner air. Then when he did manage to get a lung full it felt almost empty. His body telling him to exhale and breathe in a fresh chest full immediately. The doors pulled open allowing entry to all five of the gasping and wheezing Titan Jocks in training. The doors closed a few seconds later. They found themselves in a small two and half meter-wide square room. As a sense of movement was felt in the chamber, nozzles near the ceiling began to spray a thick gas into the room. Warily Brandon and the others inhaled the thicker air. The mist filled the small area both fixing and creating an issue. They were all able to breathe easily once again, to their great relief. However, the mist was thick and sticky feeling. Both on skin and in the lungs. It also created an odd tingly sensation. As the elevator stopped moving a mechanical voice chimed. ¡°Decontamination complete.¡± Then the doors slid open. A long white hallway lit by some unseen light source yawned in front of them. The areas utter lack of anything was disconcerting. It gave no sense of distance or scope. No one could tell if they were looking at a short hall, or something that went on for eons. The short Asian woman snarled out something in a language akin to Chinese or maybe Japanese. Then strode off into the hall. The others followed behind. They walked for nearly half a kilometer, occasionally a dark side passage would join the hallway they were moving through. Once their hall even joined another one. Here the way was easy to know because the one direction at the intersection was lit up the other was dark. Finally they reached an intersection where four other passages met. The room was semicircular still in the plain white. In the center of the chamber was a bank of elevators. Their shafts creating a pillar in the center of the large room. After pausing to look around the Asian woman walked to the elevator bank and hit the call button. The light had barely flashed on when the doors opened, to reveal an elevator large enough to hold ten people with room. Still oddly quiet the group stepped inside, only to pause. The Asian woman spoke looking at the others. A dark Hispanic or maybe Latin looking man spoke in Spanish, ¡°Sorry, I do not understand you. Do you speak Spanish?¡± He made it obvious that his question was directed at the entire elevator as a whole. Brandon understood him but did not see what the issue was yet. Looking over the shoulder of the short woman he saw the trouble. The bank of buttons must have had nearly 50 buttons. The light indicating which they were on was not the top although it was near it. Brandon was about to use his limited grasp of Spanish to respond when a ding sound saved him. The elevators call button dinged and a voice boomed out like the voice of god. ¡°Do not push any buttons, cadets. You are waiting for the others. So wait and be good.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Others?¡± The tall blonde Scandinavian looking woman asked. Brandon looked at the woman, and said, ¡°That voice over the intercom was not speaking any language that I understood. Yet I understood it.¡± The woman looked at him then considered, ¡°ya.¡± Short and concise. That is exactly what he knew of the warriors of that particular national group. They continued to wait in silence for another ten minutes, then the doors opened. Years of battlefield wariness instantly had him on edge. Everyone in the elevator was tense and ready as the doors slid fully open revealing three more men and a woman. The newcomers were also dressed in the purple and silver military uniforms of House Nubran. Patches on their arms denoting them as Titan Jocks too. A 2-meter-tall man, lined with the types of muscles only acquired from years of intense work, glared at them His dark eyes narrowed as they settled on Brandon. ¡°American?¡± Brandon frowned. The man had the dark hair and complexion of an Afghan man. His demeanor was one of a highly trained soldier familiar with the battlefield. The tall blond woman looked sideways at Brandon before she spoke. ¡°Ya, he is. You have issue?¡± Her English was rough, but clear enough. The Afghan man snarled, ¡°A woman should be seen not heard. You can learn like this one.¡± Brandon looked as the man shifted with his shoulder toward the woman behind him. She glared at the man¡¯s back. Now that they looked it was clear the woman had a split lip, crusted with day old blood, and both eyes were black, if not swollen. One of the men with the Afghan man stepped between the woman and the group I the elevator hiding her with his body. The other took a step away from the others. Giving himself distance. Both of the women in the elevator saw the others state before she was concealed and instantly their already high tension went to the point of imminent violence. Brandon glanced up looking for the speakers and cameras he knew was somewhere. He expected the oversight to intervene. But, As the Afghan man eyes met the short Asian woman he smiled a smile only found on those who like to hurt others. ¡°Oh she is a pretty one. I will enjoy breaking her in.¡± The Asian woman snarled her muscles bunching ready to leap at the monster of a man. Brandon spoke loudly with a voice used to give orders over countless battlefields. ¡°Hey! Let¡¯s calm down. We do not want any trouble. Why do you not head around the corner and take another elevator. A voice ordered us to wait for more people. They have been watching us.¡± The Asian woman and the Slovak one glanced at Brandon quickly, but neither moved. One of the men beside Brandon stepped away distancing himself. The other moved up behind the dark haired Asian woman, in a sign of support. All of which Brandon noted with peripheral vision, never taking his eyes from the Fagan man. The Afghan¡¯s sneer flickered for a moment and his eyes roved around the area searching for cameras or speakers, just like Brandon had done earlier. He did not seem to have any better luck finding any, either. ¡°Just like a fucking American coward! Not only are you hiding behind your bitch!¡± He glanced another leer at the Asian woman standing at the front of the elevator. ¡°You also act all high and mighty. Fucking pretending to be serving some higher purpose. All the while you just walk over everyone else and expect them to accept it.¡± The man stepped closer followed by his flunky. He reached for the short woman with a ham sized hand. All the while staring down Brandon. ¡°Well, we are not in the desert anymore>¡± In an instant the area broke into violence. The Fagan man lunged to brag the Asian woman. She instead ducked under the reach and bound up in a flying knee, into the man¡¯s exposed ribs. The man who had stepped up behind her moved forward blocking the Afghan¡¯s flunky. The two men began exchanging quick jabs, blocks, and counter-blocks. The Slovakian woman moved to help but was taken off guard from the other man inside the elevator. The one Brandon had been wary of. He grabbed her left arm jerking it behind the tall woman¡¯s back. With a twist he made her arch her back, shoving her well-endowed chest into the air... A shocked gasp of pain tore from her throat. Brandon who was near the back of the elevator and not near the fighting outside the doors moved with a quick side step. Leaning back he used his small step to hit the man in the head with a side kick. The man¡¯s head rocketed back, forcing his body to follow. The man crashed into the elevator¡¯s wall and slumped to the ground. The Silvic woman was pulled off balance but managed to pull her arm away soon enough to only be yanked to a knee. Brandon Spun to check the fight up front and smiled. The two men were still exchanging blows, both being fairly equally matched. The Latin guy was shorter but had more raw strength. The woman at the back of the Afghan¡¯s group had taken the chance to interpose a few of her thoughts on the matter at hand. The Asian woman had both of the Afghan¡¯s man¡¯s arms locked with her own at her sides. The move making the much taller Afghan man look to be almost bending over to give her a hug. An illusion that was broken by the fierce head-butt she planted in to his downturned face. Meanwhile, the redheaded woman was laying into his exposed sides with quick kidney jabs. Brandon winced, that guy would be peeing blood for a week if nothing else. A voice boomed from unseen speakers, ¡°Enough!¡± The combatants froze. The instant reaction of a soldier given orders. ¡°It is good to see you having fighting spirit. You will have plenty of time to work out your aggression in your Titans. Now if your done playing get down here.¡± The speaker shut off. Only then did Brandon realize more people had entered the elevator room. Perhaps another eight or so. They stood there watching the fight with mixed expressions. ¡°you heard the man, ¡°Brandon heard himself saying. ¡°Let¡¯s get these ass holes off our elevator and head down.¡± Putting action to word he bent over picked up the unconscious man behind the arms and flung him with the help from the Slovakian woman out of the elevator. As they did the two women and the Latin man stared at the Fagan man and his flunky. ¡°Bitch you get your ass back over here.¡± The redhead smiled. Her lip breaking open to bleed again. A pink tongue licking the trickle of blood. In a surprisingly Smokey sounding voice filled with venom she spat, ¡°Fuck off. You can take his ass. Let him be your bitch!¡± She gestured at the limp form and stepped in to the elevator. Behind Brandon and the three others. Thirty tense seconds passed before the doors shut with a firm thwunk sound. No sooner had they shut than the Asian woman spun, ¡°I do not need the help of any man! I am fully capable of dealing with my own issues. Never interfere in my affairs again!¡± That said she spun back around to stare at the wall and closed elevator doors. All four of the others including the red headed woman stared open jawed at the Asian spit fire in shock. They briefly exchanged glances at one another. Brandon and the other man in the group held a shocked expression on their faces. The blonde Slavic woman had a neutral expression, but amusement glimmered in her pale blue eyes. The red headed woman looked at the other three then burst out laughing. ¡°Oh shit! You guys are fucking nuts! The good kind of crazy, but still fuckign insane!¡± Her laughter followed them all the way down as the elevator quickly dropped in to the lower levels.p Titan Warriors: Chapter Eight - Infantry Training Chapter Eight: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Archer, Sara Nubran Lunar Base May 1, 7215 An hour later and Brandon along with some seventy others were all sitting inside a white auditorium like chamber. After exiting the elevator they were lead into a series of offices and warehouses. There they were each subjugated to a series of health tests. Follow by immune boosting shots and a House Nubran Titan Jock nanite shot. The nanites would grant them access through the House Nubran security systems, thus unlocking the House owned Titans. Or, at least whatever titans they were given permission to pilot. Afterward they were taken to a quartermaster and issued their standard issue gear. As Brandon looked at each item the nanites in his eyes illuminated them, with a soft yellow white border before a see-through details box appeared in a personal heads up display. Name: Pk-268L CR: 0.15 Class/Design: Infantry Light Ballistic Pistol Weight: 2.1lbs. Owner: Freesource A simple yet effective military grade pistol. Light weight and sleek of design this weapon has been seen use as a personal or military issued weapon for over a thousand years, when a large weapon just will not do. The pistol fires a 0.003 caliber enriched tungsten sliver. Name: Pr 17 CR: 0.1 Class/Design: Combat knife Weight: 0.6lbs Owner: Freesource A basic nanite etched carbon edged combat knife. Name: XRX-27 Smartcloth Battle Dress Uniform Armor: 0.15 Class/Design: Nanofiber protective Battle Dress Uniform Weight: 1.5lbs Owner: Freesource Composed of highly adaptive nanite fibers this battle dress uniform is fully customizable. Fully capable of adjusting to the wearers size. It can also change colors and designs as needed. It even provides some limited form of protection. When in standby mode the uniform will return to a three-inch-long by inch wide control stick, where damage is repaired, and the nanofibers are cleaned. Name: VRTOL- Plasma Cooling Vest Armor: 0 Class/Design: Light Cooling Vest Weight: 8.2lbs Owner: Freesource This advanced plasma filled cooling vest can stand alone or plug in to a central cooling system for greater effectiveness. His uniform automatically adjusted, creating holsters for the weapons. A thigh holster on his right leg for the pistol and a sheath on his left leg. He wasn¡¯t sure about the placement until he received the vest. Afterward it was clear that anything placed upon his waist would be inaccessible. Where the pistol and blade looked sleek and high tech the vest was thick, chunky, and ugly. Its¡¯ puke green color was only slightly better than the odd sloshing sounds it made while he moved wearing it. Brandon¡¯s skin crawled pulling him from his unpleasant inspection of his new gear. Looking around he soon saw they cause. Across the room the Afghan man was staring hate filled brown orbs at him. The man had twice more attempted to accost Brandon¡¯s little group. Each time a well-timed interruption or a soft cough from a nurse cut the encounter short. Brandon smiled and gave the man a small wave. Fury washed over the hate filled mug as he stood explosively. He began to storm over with fist clenched. He only took a few steps however before a door that was previously invisible on the front wall opened. Everyone who had been sitting suddenly shot to their feet, standing at attention. Ten purple uniformed individuals entered and began walking toward the middle of the raised stage like platform located there. As they neared chairs rose from the white stage. Between the seats and the edge of the platform a lectern smoothly grew. The first nine sat on the chairs while the last moved to the lectern. He was a grey-haired man. Weathered features belied the cunning gleam in his nearly gold eyes. The already fairly quiet room grew so still the breathing of the audience seemed loud. As the man stepped up to the lectern with a military precise stomp he spoke in a voice rough from years of smoke and drink, ¡°At ease. Take your seats¡± Sitting Brandon studied the other people behind the man. Five men and four women all with the looks of warriors sat back studying the room, whispering with their neighbors, or in one case clearly working through commands in her personal HUD. ¡°My name is Lord Knight Andrew Nubran. Me and my knights will be responsible for training you rix begotten lumps of tube slime into something approaching Titan Jocks.¡± His tone of voice and expression belied his words, they remained neutral even when his words clearly spoke distaste. ¡°I have been ordered against my advice to train you lot. You will be the first ever vat born Titan Jocks. That is if any of you survive and pass. My great nephew is breaking from a thousand years of tradition and allowing you lot to become more than just the fodder your kind are meant to be. Please prove me right and fail over the next twelve weeks. Then I can show his Lordship that even with his need, Vat slime can¡¯t be true Jocks. ¡° Brandon shifted in his seat the man¡¯s complete lack of facial expression or voice inflection unnerved him. The way the Lord Knight stared at the wall as if not even deeming it worthwhile to look at them angered him. ¡°There is Eighty of you in here right now. I have been ordered to create only one company of Vat-born Jocks. For those of you who cannot count that is 20 Jocks. Some of you might live long enough to become Titan mechanics and might even do well enough to be able to lead a crew. However, most of you will die.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The way the man spoke as if he didn¡¯t care continued to eat at Brandon¡¯s fuse. ¡°Now don¡¯t think you will die like real Jocks inside a Titan¡¯s cockpit. No you lot will be placed in simulator pods. For the first four weeks we will keep the training wheels on. After that, the pod will inflict upon you any damage that you would suffer in a real Titan. If your rixing grey matter cannot learn in a training environment, then there is no way we will trust you in a billion credit machine. Have faith though rixers my nephew has some of the best paid medical staff on hand. They will pull you from your pod and save your life if it can be saved. In a real fight you may have to wait for hours or even days for medical help, so feel grateful.¡± With those words he did a precise about face and marched out of the room. As the door slid shut one of the women got up and moved to the lectern. ¡°My name is Knight captain Nowell. As I call your names please stand. She began to quickly call out names. ¡°The second name she called was McDew, so Brandon stood. The small group who had come in with him looked at him with mixed expression as he stood. The Asian woman glowered. While the Latin guy and the Amazonian woman smiled at him. The redheaded woman just looked confused. More people were called and stood, but none of the others were called. Second to last was the Afghan man. He stood spine straight and eyes forward, standing at attention proudly. Finishing up the last name she went on. ¡°Congratulations to those of you who are standing. You have been selected by merit to receive a promotion from Junior Knights to full Knights. You will thus be in direct command of a platoon of Titans.¡± Brandon looked around at the others standing. Most stood straight not looking around. A few though like him, cared less for the decorum and took the moment to scope out the competition. Because anyone with half a brain cell knew that yes, they were all on the same team. Yet, if they had listened to the Lord Knight their training would not be fully friendly. Not all of the men and women now standing would be alive in just a few weeks. ¡°Over the next two weeks you will all be tested in various combat and command simulations. Based upon your results you will be ranked and allowed to choose from eh pool of Knight Recruits to build your team. ¡°Once each team is organized, myself or one of the others behind me will choose two platoons and begin your training. By the end of Week 4, when the simulations turn active we will each choose one platoon to move on. The other will become subs and mechanic candidates.¡± ¡°Knights follow me.¡± She turned and began to move toward the door they entered from. Brandon exit the rows of chairs and joined the line heading out. As he moved another of the Instructors moved to the lectern. ¡°The rest of you will also be tested and ranked. Your results will then be given to your future platoon commander for selection. As their ranks let them choose the team they desire. Your ranks highlight your strengths and weaknesses¡¡± The speech went on, but Brandon could not hear anymore after stepping from the room. With no ceremony or breaks they were led to a massive chamber full of grey circles. The ball like machines stood nearly seven meters tall and half that in width and depth. No seams, lights or any other indication to show what they were used for was visible. ¡°Each of you step in front of one pod.¡± The Knight Captain barked in a bored voice. The pods were set up in five rows of four. Exactly like a full Titan company, Brandon thought dryly. As Brandon stepped in front of one a screen appeared at chest height. The screen showed a diagnostic of the pod. It was currently empty and was reading as 100% operational. ¡°Now you Rixing lot. Place your left hand on the pod and say ¡®Assign Unit¡¯ to allow you access. This pod will be your bed, bathroom, workspace, a and in general your life for the next 4 days.¡± Brandon did not like the way that sounded but did as he was told. He placed his hand on the pod which highlighted his hand in a green outline. A yellow strip started at the top and moved down his hand quickly, ¡°Assign Unit.¡± The pod chimed as his personnel status sheet appeared. A full 3-D rendition of himself stood there nude and spinning. His complete statistics were labeled and easy to see. Height, Weight, eye, hair, Age. All the basics. Then it scrolled to his primary and secondary statistics. Followed by his system recognized skills. Lastly his affiliation, rank, and military service flashed on the screen. Brandon barely had time to glance over everything before it vanished. In a husky English sounding voice the pod said, ¡°Biometrics scanned. Synchronization complete. Assign Pod 4G-5.1 now?¡± With a nod Brandon said yes. Other confirmations could be heard for those nearby. A second later the lights around his hand vanished. Dropping his hand Brandon was about to turn back to the Lord Knight for further instruction when a seam appeared in the previously solid looking pod. In a few heartbeats the seam formed a full arch; suddenly a set of stairs flowed from the pod, creating an opening in to the dark interior. Glancing over his shoulder Brandon saw that the Knight Lord looked bored, so with a sigh Brandon stepped up the steps. He had to duck slightly to avoid hitting his head on the opening. Once inside the steps flowed closed sealing him in the dark interior. With a start Brandon felt something snake around his ankles and then something else grabbed his wrists before he could react. Pulling he tried to pull free and fight back. A shout pulled from his throat as another one wrapped around his waist then his forehead. In a few seconds he was fully unable to move. Something in the darkness removed his vest and he could feel more things removing his knife and side arm. Then to his utter dismay he felt his uniform flow off his skin. ¡°Oh no fucking way! I never signed up to be tentacle raped!¡± His fears were realized a moment later when something engulfed his manhood. A tiny prick let him know he was just devirginized. Gritting his teeth he braced for what was next. The cold penetration was less painful than he expected but still fucking sucked to have some unknown item shoved up his ass. The final straw though was when a nozzle shot up his nose and down his throat. He gagged as it entered his stomach. Completely violated and infuriated Brandon did not even notice when the pods cool interior began to fill with a warm liquid. At least not until it was nearly past his ass. He tried to pull free of the bindings again but was still held utterly still. As the liquid moved to his chest he could feel a tingle begin to numb his skin. As it reached his face he began to panic. Gasping he tried to hold his breath but a twist of the tendril in his throat made him gag and inhale the liquid. To his surprise he was able to breathe the odd fluid. More over as it spread over his eyes the dim lights that had begun to show in the pod cleared into a full panoramic vision. An instant later Brandon found himself standing in a war-torn city. He was wearing the now familiar light armor of an Infantry soldier. Including his weapon. ¡°Socman, the rixing enemies are trying to outflank us! They are on the west and north. A squad is working south as we speak. What are your orders?¡± Brandon looked over his shoulder the young Dreg. She was panicked and cleared had seen some combat. Her armor was covered in dust and had a few tears or puncture holes. He could see red puckered skin over her left breast where a nanite shot had clearly been used to rapidly heal a recent wound. Six other soldiers were spread around him kneeling or standing behind cover, each forming a basic perimeter. ¡°Socman?¡± Brandon snapped out of his confusion. ¡°We need to move out! In twos to the west. Go! Go! GO¡± As the first pair shot forward making a beeline for cover the concrete wall next to Brandon¡¯s head suddenly had a couple centimeter deep holes in it. It took his mind a moment of staring at the holes in fascination to realize; Bullets make noise and break things. Lasers put holes in things¡ His dive to the ground saved his life. A sudden alter on his helmets HUD warned him that his shoulder lost nearly two thirds of its armor. Rolling he looked around saw a pair of troops wearing the colors of House Nubran¡¯Due purple with silver and teal running at his squad. Raising his rifle he took a shot as the two soldiers covering that section also popped up to fire from their cover. His helmet created a much slower beam of light from his weapons and those of his men to their targets. Thus allowing them to see where they were hitting. The charging soldiers took shots to their chest pieces, armor blacking and cracking or just deeply pitting. One of his men held his weapons trigger down creating a sustained beam that tore through the enemy¡¯s armor on the right. But as the beam created a full tunnel and passed through the fire stopped abruptly as the man¡¯s weapon shut down from overheating. The weapons rifling glowed a dull red and steam rose from eh weapon in shimmering waves. ¡°Move it people!¡± He shouted once more¡ Brandon lost track of the scenarios he found himself in. The first one ended when he got his survive squad to a Forward Operating Base or FOB. The massive tracked structure was a marvel of modern Nano construction. It could pack or unpack itself in less than an hour. Converting from large tracked behemoth in to a full-blown military base. Better yet they could be customized per deployment for the types of units they were going to support. Infantry would get a barracks, command center, and armory. Armor units would get repair bays and smaller barracks for drivers and support crews. Aerospace would get landing pads or runways and similar. Even Titans could be managed by the massive structure. Finally after Brandon took a painful shot to the head on a failed rescue mission, where he was the sole survivor of a planetary dropship sent to recover the scion of some Lord, or the other; the scenarios changed. Titan Warriors: Chapter Nine - The First Mission Chapter Nine: Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, archer, Sara Nubran Lunar Base May 2, 7215 Flinching from a painful impact that no longer existed Brandon glanced around. The sights and sounds hit him all at once, as soon as he realized he wasn¡¯t dead. The utter realism, even the pain of these training simulations was insane. Even knowing that his whole life before waking in the Tube was supposed to be a simulation. He just had no believed it on some level. Not until now. Each and every scenario made him feel like he was shooting in to the air, while balls deep in to a screaming hog. If anything the only issue was the transitions. One second, he was completing a mission or more likely getting killed. The second he was standing around in... Where was he? He stood in a cleared area inside a FOB¡¯s main bay. He recognized the walls and flooring from previous missions. Now though the bay¡¯s normal ceiling as absent and instead of areas for Infantry or Armor unit four large scaffolding rigs marked out births. In each Birth was a god of war. Although these ones looked little in their respective births. On his right, two three and half meter-tall balls with legs stood. The balls dark front had an open hatch near the bottom hanging between the legs. Front center of each ball was a clear plate of whatever high-tech equivalent was now used for glass. To the right and left of the cockpit window two nozzles stuck out some quarter meter. Judging by what he had learned recently of modern turrets he suspected a decent 100-degree firing arc on both of those. Above the cockpit, nearly on top of the ball was a machine gun. The weapons swivel mounting was clearly set for a full 360-degree rotation and if Brandon was to guess a nearly vertical max upward aim. Both of the spherical machines of war were painted a dull red, with yellow and orange wave like stripes. The distinct paint job complete Brandon¡¯s guess. If he was pulling from his implanted memories correctly these two were Fire Ants. A pair of fast light Anti-Infantry Titans. Their Light Machine Gun was supported by two highly volatile Flamers. To Brandon¡¯s left was House Nubran¡¯s single proprietary Ultra-Light Titan design. Also standing just over three meters tall these Titans were humanoid in appearance. Two arms, a and legs were mounted to a human like torso and head. The Apaches were painted to look like the ancient human¡¯s they were named after. Including a hate filled snarl on their mechanical heads. The Apache was a fast light scout class design. Low armor and only armed with a massive Enriched Tungsten hand axe, the design was suited for little more than information gathering. The Axe was capable of tearing through even another Titan¡¯s armor at an outstanding rate. However, since you had to be nearly on top of them to utilize it the weapon would be nearly useless against other Titans. Eyeing the meter and half tall weapon carefully Brandon was sure it could make short work of any Infantry or slow Armor the Jock could close in on however. A small crew was prepping all four Titans as Brandon watched. Fusion power plants were being stoked from standby. Their controlled chaos sending waves of heat in to the bay accompanied by the totally unique sound. Crews were doing final checks on weapon loadouts and armor plating. Last minute repairs that the beasts always seemed to need. When a figure appeared next to Brandon he turned to look. He had seen the man in the white space before. At the time he was just another face I the crowd, though. He stood some two meters tall, with well-defined muscles like most of them. His dirty blonde hair was cut into a flat top on a squared face. A nasty looking scar went from his scalp over his icily blue eye and down the middle of his mouth to his chin. He wore the House Nubran uniform under a Titan cooling vest. Pistol and blade were attached on leg holsters upon his upper thigh. Brandon met the man¡¯s cold gaze and nodded a tiny shift of his head. ¡°Da.¡± The man replied. Casually reaching up Brandon touched his chest just to confirm that he too was wearing the bulky cooling vest. Over the past days, weeks? However long it has been he grew accustomed to the feel of clunky armor restricting and limiting his movement. Even so no ground pounder would dare leave behind their life saving loadouts. Brandon had seen firsthand how important the gear was. Not like some stupid white armor from his favorite Space Opera back home¡ Shaking his head Brandon brought himself back to the situation from his momentary mental check out. He was geared as a Jock. That meant only one thing. they were going to be piloting these beasts now. On the last two scenarios Brandon had been either supported by or fighting against Titans in his Armor division. Both times he got a heady respect for the machines. A titan could normally easily take on a full squad of armored units of the same weight. Even the fast Hover Armor units just couldn¡¯t match a Titan in mobility and reaction times.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As a third person appeared slightly behind Brandon he smiled. ¡°Right folks load up. Looks like we get to earn our pay today.¡± Not waiting to see if they listened Brandon jogged over to the farthest Apache. His brief look around had afforded him the chance to see this Titan seemed almost new, where the other Apache was sporting several recently replace armor plates and even maybe an arm or leg. Then even with the shitty weapons there was no way Brandon was going to stick himself in what amounted to a walking can of Napalm. Moving behind the titan Brandon saw the narrow opening that allowed entry to the cockpit. With a devious smirk Brandon climbed up in to the beast through an opening placed exactly where a butthole should be on a person. Climbing in to the tight dark confines was like climbing into the same area too. The air was instantly hot and humid. Odd smells permeated the stale air. If there had been any room to maneuver Brandon was sure he would of ran in to things. As it was there was only two ways to get in the tight location. In or out. Climbing up Brandon broke out into a heavy sweat before he made it the meter or so to the cockpit. The area was just big enough for a grown man to hold his arms out and touch both walls while standing in the center. On unfamiliar instinct Brandon reached up and grabbed the Neruo-helmet that would detect his brainwaves. Combining the nearly instant reaction time of the Titan with his own minds was the key to the Titans advanced abilities. As the open-faced helm slid over his skull, Brandon pulled two cords from its back and plugged them in to his vest. Instant a chilling flush of coolant began to swirl through the connections into and back out of his vest. In an instant he went from sweating to shivering. On the front of the cockpits view screen lights began to flash. The Titan¡¯s Ai now awake spoke into the slowly illuminating cockpit, its heavily accented voice was clearly Scottish. The dep rough voice spoke out, ¡°New jock detected. Neural handshake complete. Security check passed. Welcome Jock what is your call sign?¡± Brandon froze. ¡°shit! No one told me I needed a call sign! Isn¡¯t someone supposed to give me that? I did not think it was something I got to pick.¡± The Ai¡¯s voice akin to an old Sean Connery spoke up, ¡°Very well granting call sign ¡®Highlander¡¯.¡± Brandon¡¯s mouth fell open. Was he just given a call sign by a cheeky AI? With the acceptance of the call sign all handshakes were complete. With the sound of hydraulics the hatch behind and below Brandon shut closing him off from the outside world. On instinct he began to issue the startup commands. Normally it took nearly ten minutes for a Titan to go from full stand-by to active status. But most of the work had already been done by the Titan¡¯s crew. With a signal burst to the crew chief to unlock his Titan from the scaffolding, Brandon flipped the last set of switches. Sepia colored fluid began to rapidly fill the tiny cockpit. Brandon¡¯s Helm folded a mask over his face and completed a seal on hi vest¡¯s neckline. Even having the implanted memories of this occurring Brandon had a moment of worry. The ballistic gel served a number of purposes in the cockpit. First it softened an outside force upon the Jock. Second it acted as a type of stabilizer. The way the Jock would move in the gel was transmitted to a thousand different sensors in the cockpit. Those signals were then used to relay real time commands to the Titans durasteel skeleton and muscle framework. Lastly it provided a three-dimensional display interface with full touch reaction. As the environment appeared around Brandon he watched the scaffolding pull away from his Jock. It felt almost like it was pulling away directly from his own body. Taking a step forward the war machine responded perfectly. A voice came over the radio the same instant as a Mission briefing appeared on his HUD. ¡°The Jocks are ready to Rock!¡± ¡°Jocks your mission is straight forward. We got a lead on an enemy Forward Operating Base that has been acting as an Aerospace airfield. They have been conducting Ariel raids on House Nubran assets for over a month. Trillions of credits have been lost in damages and lost lives.¡± ¡°As of two hours ago we have pinned their location. Our scout counted a full platoon of downed craft.¡± ¡°The mission is simple get in fast: Destroy the downed birds before they can take off. If you do this will be easy. You¡¯re not equipped to fight an airborne target so hit them while they are down.¡± Mission Details