Proposals

In the makeshift barracks of the Roman camp Eversor, Ajax and Roark were all resting for the coming day of operations. With the day being done and the camp not on high alert all three men were out of their Thorakai. Sitting on the top bunk Ajax was sketching with a piece of paper trying to draw out a rough layout of the view they had from camp. The facility was miles away but with its size and scale, it was a magnificent view from where he was lying near a window. Eversor flipped through one of the pages in his book before tossing it to the side and getting up from the bunk below Ajax.

“I’m bored, it’s about time for dinner. You coming?” He asked Ajax as he stood up to look at his friend on the top bunk. Ajax shrugged his sore shoulders, the young man's face, tanned with an olive complexion looked back at him. His brown curly hair hung down his face a bit messily but not disheveled. Altogether he didn't look all that different than when they first met.

“No, I lost my appetite.” The image of one of his fallen squad mates being covered in a tarp was stuck in his mind.

Eversor nodded as he reached for his coat. “Ok, I’ll see you later…you're not nervous about the plan?”

“What's the point, we’ve handled worse…don’t slam the door Roark is asleep,” Ajax responded, continuing to sketch. Eversor glanced over at his commander before exiting their barracks, leaving his Thorakai behind.

The camp was lit up by spotlights, burning fires that the men were gathered around, and the lights of the barracks. The makeshift barracks, chow hall, and small command building all were lit up with electricity. Spotlights on the wall blasted its light around and outside of the camp while guards lined the walls, their Thorakai shining in the spotlights. Moving across camp he heard a loud yell pulling his attention to the metal walls that surrounded the camp. Watching from the light he saw a scuffle in the darkness.

“Grab her!” One of the guards yelled, holding his broken bleeding nose. Running towards them Eversor watched another guard slam a woman down with a loud yell as he struggled to hold her down. Even with his superior strength, he was struggling.

“Who are you? What are you doing here!” The guard barked out, pulling a gun to point at her head while holding his shaky finger over the trigger.

“What's going on here!” Eversor yelled seeing a young woman beneath the man, her short hair covering her face.

“This girl was trying to get out of here, is she an enemy spy!?” The guard with a bloody nose asked, “Are you!?” He yelled as he pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple.

“Get off of me!” She yelled, swinging her elbow back, knocking a tooth out of the man's face. The man sputtered, spitting blood into the dirt, shaking from the force of her hit. Hearing the voice it wasn’t hard for Eversor to put two and two together realizing it was in fact, Colonel Ayla.

“I’ll kill y—” The man's gun that had been pointed right at her head was grabbed by Eversor’s calloused hands.

“Put your safety back on, she’s with me!” Eversor yelled.

“Eversor? Why would this woman be wandering around in a stolen uniform!? I didn’t know Roark had a slave girl let alone one that he let dress up.” The guard growled as he instantly assumed she was a slave. To him it was the only reason a woman dressed in an enemy uniform would be on base, "Or is she a nurse who thought it would be funny to play soldier?"

“I’m—!” Eversor reached back, grabbing Ayla by the front of her uniform trying to cut her words off.

“Did I give you permission to speak!? Do I have to send you back to your father early? I don’t understand why you wanted to come see this or why he allowed you but I will send you back to Rome itself if you talk back one more time!” Eversor yelled into her face breathing deeply as he looked at her putting on a look of infuriation. The soldier lowered his gun looking between them awkwardly as if he had interrupted a very important conversation.

“Forgive me, this prissy Senator’s daughter seems to have a fascination with warfare...and running off…will you excuse me while I deal with her?” Eversor asked, offering his hand to help his comrade up.

"Yes, I'm sorry I didn’t know she was a senator's daughter! My deepest apologies!” The man said, shaking in fear that this could mean severe punishment, even a whipping. He wasn’t enough of a fool to infuriate a senator of their people.

“It’s ok you couldn’t have known and she was acting out of line.” Eversor said tugging on Ayla’s arm, “Let's go.” He barked, pulling her away from the perimeter behind the mess hall where they couldn’t be seen. As she was being pulled along Ayla was perplexed, his act was off. He didn’t speak with sincerity of earlier that day.

Holding her by the front of her uniform he tugged her up to force her to stand on the toes of her boots as he looked down at her, “What were you doing? How did you get out of the…you were going to abandon your Thorakai weren’t you?” He asked his look of fake anger fading away to a confused expression.

“I was! My chances were better trying to sneak out than waiting! I wasn’t going to become a slave for some disgusting Roman dog!” Ayla grimaced, grabbing his wrist, squeezing it as hard as she could, making Eversor grunt as her grip was stronger than he could have expected, “Why the hell did you even step in anyways with that story and act? Even I could tell your performance was horrible.” She asked, staring daggers at him.

“If it wasn’t for that fake story you might have been taken away to a fate much worse…Is it hard to believe I don’t want to see you become a slave like the others we have chained up in the pillboxes?”

“How do I know you're not some animal who's going to take me away and dispose of me after letting my guard down?" Eversor doubted she would ever let it down. "For all I know you or one of your men were coming for me while I was defenseless.” She asked, knowing that if he wanted to or any of the other men got their hands on her she would be at their mercy until she was discarded or sent to be a prisoner somewhere else.

“Because I'm not some animal…did you lie on the defenses of the facility?”

“No, I didn’t…I hoped cooperation would see to it that you’d loosen security which you did.” She scowled, staring up defiantly as if she would hit him at any moment. Eversor didn't know whether to take her at her word after that but that was a problem for later.

For a long moment, Eversor was silent thinking over the options he was given. He could turn her in as duty dictated. Alternatively, he could have snuck her back to her cell to make sure she didn’t face any retribution or he could do what would get him the mark of disgrace if he were to go through with it.“I don’t want you to get sold off as a slave…and if you're not lying about giving us false intel then I'm willing to get you out of here. Honor the deal. Better to let you go than to let you be tied down in chains.” Eversor whispered looking at their surroundings just to make sure nobody was passing by the back of the mess hall. Ayla looked up at him confused beyond belief.

“Why would you help me? You're a Roman, where's that the code of strength and honor you're always touting?” She said as she looked into his eyes with mistrust.

“We can argue about that later about strength and honor Germanic...now take off the uniform,” Eversor ordered.

“What?” Ayla looked at him pushing away from his arms and out of his grip, “I’m not gonna—”

“Just the jacket, our standard uniforms only deviate from the jackets and boots, the dark green and black won’t be noticed much if we're lucky and if we are you’ll just say it was captured from the enemy and you…being a senator's daughter was cold and demanded something to keep you warm.” Ayla looked at him unimpressed at his plan.

“That's ridiculous, who would believe that?”

“Soldiers who don’t question anything when a senator is mentioned. You saw that guy back there, if a real senator caught wind that one bad word was said to his daughter they could be demoted, punished, and even whipped.” Ayla looked up at him with a look in her eye that said she didn’t fully trust him but at this point, she didn't have much of a choice. Reaching for the jacket she took it off, turning away to look up at the defensive wall. Looking around she bundled it up and threw it over the small wall, out of the camp before looking back at Eversor. Reaching for his own jacket, he removed it and handed it to her to wear before bringing them both back into the light.

Ayla looked up at Eversor in the bright lights of the camp, finally having a good look at the man. His tall stature and athletic build showed off his strength by the way he held himself. Standing tall, his pale skin, dark black hair, and clean-shaven face shone well in the light of the camp as they moved forward. His eyes which were between black and gray seemed to have hints of blue in certain light.

Adversely Eversor got his first look at Ayla outside of her Thorakai and the darkness of the camp. She was shorter than him by several inches but despite the difference in height having seen her take on two guards injuring them both and witnessing her willingness to fight him immediately after let him know she wasn’t weak in the slightest.

Her dark brown hair which looked black reached down to her jaw while brushing against her cheek bones. With its crude cut, he could tell her hair had once been much longer. Her green eyes stared into his as they looked at each other before moving forward.  Heading towards the mess hall she stuck close to his back but refused to touch him even as the men exiting the mess hall stared at her. Whispering to each other wondering why a woman dressed in uniform was walking with Eversor. Grabbing two trays he handed her one before moving towards the line to get served.

“Why does Eversor have a servant girl?”

“Is she some daughter of somebody powerful?”

“He doesn’t have the rank needed to keep her with him.”

“Isn’t he special forces? If he is, that wouldn’t even allow him to bring her.”

The murmurs and whispers went on and on but thanks to those who didn't care or looked the other way the mess hall didn’t get quiet to an uncomfortable degree. Walking down the line rations began to be scooped onto the metal trays, a piece of bread, flour slices of thin meat, a cut of cheese, some sweet berries, and half a slice of apple. A meal that their leadership considered sturdy and the typical rations they would hand out after the battle. It wasn’t much but it was food. Taking their seat at a table near the corner he looked towards Ayla.

Ayla was looking down at the rations and picked up the bread before beginning to chow down on the food that she was given. Three bites later the bread was gone, and after that the meat and cheese before she savored the sweetness of the berries. Meanwhile, Eversor hadn’t even touched his bread and had only eaten half his cheese and meat.

“I’m guessing those running the supply chains don’t feed you guys very well.”

“Shut up…we’ve only been getting the bare minimum of supplies. We're stretched thin at the moment. The tribe of Revack has been more focused on keeping this outpost secret. A strange amount of supplies going to some backwater planet would attract attention."

“That's what happens when alliances of tribes work together. Everybody’s out for themselves.” Eversor said, finishing up a slice of meat.

Ayla looked at him silently for a long moment trying to think if she should divulge even the slightest bit of information to the soldier, "When you're from a smaller tribe you tend to have to be out for yourself.” Ayla retorted, finishing up the last fruits she was given.

“You know…they used to say the same to us when we were stuck guarding outposts…about rations I mean. Most of the time it was just to cut corners and save a few gold credits. There’s enough gold in the alliance to feed the legions for years but still the rich love their food stores.” Using a utensil he stabbed into his slice of meat before putting it onto Ayla’s tray. That along with the berries, “Eat up. I never liked the berries anyway.” He lied. Finishing up his piece of cheese and last slice of meat he watched as Ayla looked at the food blankly.

Eversor reached over, grabbing his bread and tearing it in half, offering her half of his own. Ayla looked back at him, grabbing the bread from his hand. Holding it up she realized what it meant if she bit into it. They would be breaking bread. In a way making peace between the two, “I can't take this, I might as well be surrendering my pride.” she said.

“Then surrender it. Dignity, honor, virtue, none of it means anything if you're dead from stubbornness.” Eversor rested his elbow on the table bringing his hand up to rest his head against. Ayla looked towards him with a stubborn scowl on her face before she took a bite of the meat and began to eat what he offered to her.

“Thank...you.” She muttered softly. In some way trying to save her pride. Eversor had no response besides a soft nod. I'm surprised that worked, he thought to himself.

“I still don’t understand why you're doing this…you're being oddly kind to a Germanic prisoner.”

“Like I said earlier I—”

“Why do you not want to see me and the other prisoners enslaved? This isn't about the morality I'm asking why you would have that view in the first place.” Ayla said.

Eversor looked back at her staying silent before speaking once more, “I could give you a list of reasons or I could simplify it…I was born into this world and because I was born into it this world it's mine. To explore, to live in, to alter, to conquer it. It's my birthright to do those things, freedom itself is my birthright, and it's the same for every other person born into this world of ours…Roman or not. You included.” Eversor said with conviction, unlike anything she had seen before, her eyes went wide.

Her gaze softened after a few moments. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised by what he does at this point, she thought to herself. "Very Roman of you.” She said, looking at him almost curiously. Glancing down back at her food she took another bite thinking over his words. He’s determined it seems, he’s got that on his side. What sort of life makes somebody so obsessed with that? , she thought.

“Call me a Latin brute but…wait you're speaking Latin?” Looking towards her Eversor gazed into her eyes with a confused expression having not realized they were sharing the same language the entire time. He should have realized it sooner.

“They say to defeat your enemy you must know them…and I find it an interesting language.” She said, the slightest hint of her German accent showing.

“Then you're not a barbarian after all.” Eversor’s surprised face turned into an impressed chuckle.

“I can’t believe you people have a word for everybody who doesn’t speak your tongue.” She said, scoffing before taking another bite from her food.

“What about the romantics? Or English? It’s pretty much just a mix of mine and yours.”

“If you want to simplify thousands of years of history between languages then yes.” She said with an unimpressed look.

“Are you a philosopher? You speak the language of it.” He asked before finishing up the last of his food.

“No. I just had time to read and so I did. I had time to train so I fought. I had time.”

“You're speaking like one.”

“Very funny.” She said with a grimace.

“I’m not mocking you…I'm impressed.”

“Well…there's nothing to be impressed about you.” She said, looking away. Maybe it's his drive. Maybe. She thought to herself, “I haven’t even seen you fight. For all I know that sword of yours is for show.”

“It doesn’t see enough action but when it does it saves me.” Eversor chuckled, "I've tried to make alterations to it but the metal is too tough, the bolts too tight, to make changes I'd have to disassemble the armor but even the mechanics can't do it so I'm not trying.

“Modifications are legal on such expensive equipment? We both know how costly these are.” She said.

“Outside of paint no, unless your designated assignment has something to do with the suits.” From their view in the corner of the mess hall, they could see the entrance of the hall and the suits moving by outside.

“You must like working on them…is that why you joined? To use those weapons of war?” She asked.

“What if I did?” He responded.

“Than you disgust me, fighting for the sake of fighting…all that talk of strength and honor.” She said in a mocking tone.

“I didn’t say that was a reason. Perhaps I'm a firm believer in preparing for war to keep the peace..”

“Then you're either lying to me or yourself. How often do your people start wars for the sake of territory?”

“Not all of us Romans are the same. Those people you speak to who believe in the idea of it do not speak for us and we do not speak for them. We're not one empire anymore."

“But they do speak for you. People don’t care what type of Roman you are. If you're Western, Eastern, for the republic or for the imperators...you're all Roman to your enemies.” She defiantly said.

“Us fighting over our ideologies isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Maybe not but I want you to know this doesn’t mean anything. At the end of the day I—”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw somebody walking towards the table and went silent seeing the figure approaching. Eversor looked in the direction she was staring, seeing the lanky, pale, faced, square-jawed captain Nestor walk towards him.

“Commander.” Eversor greeted with an apathetic look on his face.

“What's with the girl Eversor? I didn’t know special forces were given servants after the battle.” He snarkily teased before taking his seat at the table.

“We're not because they’d just slow us down. Unlike you, we don’t spend all our free time trying to entertain ourselves.” Eversor shot back with a chuckle. Nestor looked at the two of them skeptically squinting as he looked at the woman,

“So why is she—”

“She’s a senator's daughter who wanted to see what war was like. Since she’s a bit of a troublemaker back home he sent her out here to see what it's really like.” Eversor responded calmly before taking a few berries from her tray trying to act as if he was in charge of her. Nestor looked at them for a silent few seconds before laughing, his thick Roman Britannia accent showing.

“Well, then that's reasonable enough…hey miss.” Nestor looked towards her waiting for her name.

“Anya.” She blurted out awkwardly.

“Well Anya…the name is Commander Nestor and I'm here to talk to your little guard dog.” Nestor teased. Eversor put on a fake chuckle in response.

“What is it?” Eversor asked, a bit annoyed at Nestor given the fight earlier that day.

“Well, it's about the coming operations. You know what they are going to go with.”

Eversor's mind flashed back to the meeting earlier that day.

“The main forces will encircle the facility’s no man's land. While the Navy would normally help us out with this the facility is of utmost priority meaning no damage is to come to it. We will use a mix of our special forces, tank units, and what artillery we do have until we break into it by brute force. Potentially we will have a few support fighters to give us some air support but that is unlikely…the small transport ships that the Confederation of Tribes left us will not be used due to their lack of firepower.” The memory of that event and the voice of General Kyros echoed in Eversor’s head.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck since you and your battalion are leading the charge. If you're lucky you may even be the first man up the walls of the Hephaisteion." Standing up Nestor waved goodbye as he turned away grimacing as soon as he knew they couldn’t see his face. Something about the girl was off to him. It made no sense for a senator's daughter to be there and yet she was. Even though it was one of the most dangerous operations currently going on.

“Who’s—”

“Don’t ask,” Eversor spoke, cutting Ayla off. The soldier sighed before standing up, “Let's go before we have to explain this to the whole camp.” He said before leading her out of the mess hall, still receiving stares all the way outside as he headed towards his barracks.

“You're taking me back to the cell?”

“Yes. Like I said Roark and the others know you're there and if they find out you're gone I don’t know how he’ll react.” He whispered. Roark is only becoming more volatile, this better not be the breaking point...no it won't be. He’s stronger than that. Eversor lamented in his thoughts.

“Eversor…you'll be on the front lines tomorrow won’t you?”

“I will be.”

“I saw how you reacted when he reminded you of being on the front line…tell me does the Republic often throw their men at the enemy over and over again? Until it's nothing but a pyrrhic victory?” Ayla asked.

“You know what that is?” Eversor asked in a surprised tone.

“History is knowledge. Knowledge is power…if you and your legions charge at the facility to take it by hand, whatever you gain from it won’t be worth the lives it costs.”

“What are you getting at?” Eversor asked, speeding up their walk clenching his fist as he didn’t need a reminder of the slaughter that was expected to come.

“Normally that would be true, the men you lost wouldn’t be worth it but the facility has something that would make it more than worth it…whatever is in there is worth a thousand legions sacrificed for it.” Eversor stopped dead in his tracks.

“What is in that facility?” Eversor asked, keeping a seemingly cool demeanor, "What could possibly be worth that many lives?"

“I don’t know…it wasn’t my tribe’s responsibility to know. The tribes were called upon to defend it by the Mattia​​ci. Each tribe sent what they could and I was sent to fight here…only the Mattiaci know what is going on inside.”

“What? Why would only they have the information? Why wouldn’t they clue in the other tribes?”

“Everybody’s out for themselves and they’re the ones that discovered it. The facility was abandoned, it's on the outskirts of the Germanic territories. Near their territory, so they swept it up. There’s only one man who knows what's really happening there as far as I know. His name is General Pankraz. If you want the facility captured you need three things. Pankraz dead, the facilities defenses down, and to guarantee me safe passage and a truce for my tribe if we are successful.” Ayla said with no hint of doubt in her words.

“Why would you ever betray the union of tribes?” Eversor said as his head jerked to look over his shoulder.

“Like you said we're out for ourselves. My tribe is a small fish in a big ocean and I'm not going to let them be trampled beneath our two people's fighting.

“And here I was supposed to be the one convincing you to help us.” Eversor chuckled at the irony.

“That's why you helped me?”

“No, and now I don't have to try.” Eversor said, glancing back at her, “You trust me enough to take a deal like that,”

“No…but I know that if we do end up capturing the facility my tribe will stand a better chance than if the united tribes lose and we stay allied with them."

“You speak for your tribe?”

“There’s no other Nistresi to speak for us…I want it in official writing.”

Eversor scoffed, “You're not going to get it, no commander, colonel, or general here would risk giving the credit for victory to a Germanic. It would steal the glory from the battle, it's treacherous.”

“Then I want your word…honor and strength is what your people preach. If you're as strong as you think you are and have as much honor as your people expect, give me your word.”

“You trust my word?”

“No…but if that's all you can give, I want it.” She said feeling as if she was grasping at straws. Turning around, Eversor looked down into Ayla’s eyes. It’s suicidal, if it fails I’m disgraced along with anybody who helps me…but if it just…saves one. Eversor's hand reached out holding it up offering her to shake it. If just one of my comrades gets to go home. If they get their freedom from this war. Ayla slowly raised her own hand to meet his, her smaller hand shook his. An agreement had been struck. “What do we need to get?”

“A pilot.”

“I know one.”

She’s playing us just as much as we're using her. She’s using our beliefs, history, knowledge, and everything against us for this deal. How can I turn this down? All these people are here because of—” His internal thoughts were cut off as his mind flashed to images of a man in the forest torn to shreds by gunfire, another man marching up steps his legions behind him, and at last a scared young man given the choice of death or service in a destroyed city. The images flashed within the span of a second before his thoughts returned. I can’t let them die over this…over what’s been done…what I failed to do.