Draw the shades to close my eyes
I never want to see again
I found the cost of courage high
Sometimes hard to pay
I hear the songs the sirens sing
Calling on the shores for me
So sell your soul and try to fly
The tether still remains
And all the finer things they laid upon my table
Smiled as their hooks were slowly sinking in
"Breia, excuse us for a moment," Saeryth said smoothly, though the Colonel could see the glint of an order lying beneath his silken words.
She stepped forward. "Sir, I…"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "One moment if you please, my dear," he said politely to Cordelia, before drawing Breia to the side by the arm, his countenance morphing from congenial ease to slightly annoyed with his Colonel's attitude. She had been acting strangely out of character since her failure on the field, as if she had some bizarre right to question his orders. An odd pattern of misbehavior was beginning to become apparent in her as well as the men from her corps that had managed to return to camp. Deciding he would question the captive on that in a moment, he turned his back to her and faced his officer. Gone was the dashing magnetism from his features, replaced instead with narrowed eyes and a slight tightening of his fingers around her wrist. Luckily enough for her, he made it a general rule to avoid striking women. Otherwise surely, the bones of her arm would be crushed now. "Breia, darling, are you suddenly ill, or did you just develop a 24-hour case of innate human stupidity? If you have, I just want to let it be known that had that been a request, you would have heard the question word and the inquiring tone at the end," his voice was flat so as not to be overheard but steel sparkled between the cobalt orbs of his eyes, the one place where he was hard put to hide anything from anyone. He withdrew his hold on her and tenderly smoothed down the shoulder of her uniform.
At his dangerous turn of mood, she stood to attention, lip only slightly quivering. "Yes Sir. Sorry Sir." And took out of the tent with only one backwards glance. Cordelia watched he go before turning back up at her less hospitable captor, hands bound.
He made his way back towards the bedside, and in one swift motion the animosity was gone and once again he was only a hero, a servant to his people. "Cordelia," he began, completely ignoring the transgression between he and his second in command she had witnessed but had been unable to overhear moments before, "forgive me for being so bold as to ask so soon after our acquaintance has been made, but I feel I must inquire as to what a human is doing in the ranks of those monsters," he started inquisitively, propping one foot onto the bed and leaning his weight against the bent knee. Trying to give off a casual air, to relax her defenses so that she may speak candidly.
She looked up at him, and almost instantly, he could read the fact that she wasn't up for any more of his bullshit. It delighted him and frustrated him at the same time. If she wasn't going to fall under his spell completely, the honesty of her answers was probably worth about the same as a second lieutenant amongst his men: absolutely nothing. Yet also, such a fascinating person was too much of a joy of study to be truly angry at, and so these feelings warred within him. He decided to continue to play the debonair card, despite her skepticism regarding his sincerity, to see where it might take him.
"Well, I can see from the expression on your face that you're hardly impressed with my hospitality. Truly Cordelia, I didn't expect you to be the suspicious type. And you looked so young and innocent as well." He appeared slightly insulted.
She frowned at his statements. "Maybe I'm all of the above," she responded flippantly.
"Perhaps you are, Miss Chase," he responded with a wry expression. He regarded her intensely for a moment, and she found herself once again, hard put to ignore his charms and remind herself of that coldness she had sensed in him prior, of the fact that he was the enemy. "Perhaps you are even deadly as well. Who really knows, with these first encounters?" he asked lightly, though her reaction to the seemingly careless comment was studied rather fervently if the sparks flying beneath his eyes indicated anything.
Her initial reaction was to balk at the accusation that she could possibly be deadly and consequently, her skin flushed slightly with surprise (whether at his astuteness or the ludicrous nature of the accusation she couldn't be sure). "Deadly? Me? What makes you say that?"
"If you'll allow me to be completely candid, Miss Chase, young and innocent isn't what normally makes the cut to officer, especially concerning females, which, when push comes to shove, is the decidedly more dangerous, if not most alluring, of the sexes. So naturally, there's more to you than I see, I can feel it." His cerulean eyes glittered like diamonds, filled with some profound thought.
She for one, didn't like the look on his face. **Just what we need. A villain who actually thinks. Where's Emperor Zerg when you need him?** "What are you going to do with me?" she asked after an uncomfortable moment under his scrutiny, the intensity of his study bothering her more than slightly.
"A rare gem like you?" He smiled ruefully and reached out to tenderly brush a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, as a longtime lover would, hand lingering at her cheek like a gentle ghost. "What do you mean to the General, I wonder?" he asked, voice deep and gravelly, the sound not unlike that of a cat's purr. She realized he'd ignored her query regarding her fate completely; instead, responding by posing a question of his own. And as such, he also succeeded in simultaneously mesmerizing her and creeping her out even more.
"What I mean to him? Nothing. I mean, he just met me. Heh." She withdrew her head slightly from his lingering fingers' reach, glaring up at him as he placed his hand behind is back in a gesture of false propriety.
He heard the falter in her voice. Oh, certainly, her ability to lie (act?) surpassed that of many he'd seen in the past, but as an avid studier or human character, Saeryth heard the reluctance there, the hitch between thoughts connecting as she concocted the lie in her mind. **Quick girl.** "You're sure he cares nothing for you? Surely a rarity such as yourself, someone so striking, must have some importance to him. I mean…" he turned sly, "it's not as if we could send you to him, broken and lifeless and expect no reaction, is it? You fail to give yourself enough credit as to your worth, my dear."
She shuddered at the ease to which he made the reference of her death, cleverly sandwiched between flattery or no. "Well…uhm… maybe that would raise his yuck factor a notch or two?"
He laughed. "You are a fascinating one."
She eyed him, chanced the statement. "I hear you're pretty unique yourself."
The laughter abated and he turned serious. "All leaders must be, or they're no better than the throng of mindless animals they lord over." He paused and eyed her again, more warily this time. "What have you heard, if I may ask?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Just stories."
"Stories can be dangerous, Cordelia. You should be more circumspect of such things."
Her name on his tongue rolled off like fine wine. Something that reminded her of the good old vampire allure back on earth, the confidence and mysterious sex appeal in humans here blending in an identical shape and form as that of bloodsuckers back home. The thought made him suddenly less appealing and a lot more threatening. "I am wary," she responded quietly.
He heard the tremor there, could practically feel the fear and fascination radiating off of her all at once. **That's more like it. And now, to solve the mystery of my darling Colonel's failure. Does Doyle have a new weapon so powerful at his disposal? I must find out.** "And how has Breia's hospitality been, my dear?"
She refrained from sniping at him over his litany of chauvinist pseudonyms, too guarded by the sudden change in subject. "She's been…nice?"
Saeryth's lips formed a straight line against his face. Yes, Breia had been acting strangely since he'd last seen her off to battle. And her complete and utter failure had not only been a disappointment, but a shock. Such as thing had never happened to her before. He turned slightly suspicious. **Nothing like that had happened to Breia before SHE came here,** his mind told him.
"Yes, I suppose Breia has been nice. Though truth be told, she is usually much more lively. I must apologize for her rather wan appearance earlier today. I fear that her strange defeat on the field during the battle has rather shaken her." He turned sorrowful eyes on Cordelia's own. "Breia is usually so strong when it comes to matters such as these. I cannot help but wonder if you could tell me what exactly happened out there, perhaps to shed some light on this rather troubling development."
She turned away from his eyes, refusing to fall for the ploy. "I don't know what happened."
"Let me tell you what I do know then."
She shrugged noncommittally, raised her knees and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin atop the kneecap and regarding him neutrally.
His brow arched. "You see, Cordelia Chase, there was, as a few of my men who escaped imprisonment had told me of a blinding light. As if the heavens had seen fit to rain upon them and snatch them from the very ground they fought on. But as quickly as it had come, it was then gone. And instead my fighters stopped. They were suddenly afraid, cowering like puppies on the ground. I must admit, most soldiers can be uncultured, uncivilized brutes, but they are trained to fight. Their reaction to that 'light' was rather unnatural. And that is all they could tell me before they were taken to the detoxification tent where…" his lips pursed, "where sadly, most of them will not survive the process." Of course there was really no detoxification tent, so much as there was a tent in which people who either failed or generally annoyed Saeryth were executed for their shortcomings, but Cordelia, as far as the General was concerned, need not know this. Such vulgar things were not meant for ladies' ears, after all. Saeryth smirked to himself.
"Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with me? I mean…I was just there too. Like your men were. I have no idea what happened," Cordelia lied, as fluidly as possible.
"Well, my men were obviously useless in retelling the tale of their ignominious defeat, as their recollection of the occurrence was only muddled at best. But from what I am told, the Protective Army forces under that loathsome dog-creature were not similarly affected. In fact, they were exactly as they had been, perhaps even more energized, after the incident. One of even limited cerebral activity can't deny the strange coincidence the situation imposes." He eyed her, one eyebrow arched high on his imperious head. "As a, hopefully, former, officer for the enemy, I believe you might know what the cause of this travesty was. I beseech you Cordelia as a fellow, honorable human, to give me answers. Help me."
She saw through every line of his complete BS of course. Knew that he was a liar, a charming bastard hiding behind cordiality and pretty words to indirectly strike at what he wanted, to make his opponents feel safe, feel charmed. "I…" she fought to find something to say that would not incur his immediate wrath. Subtlety had never been her strong suit.
He stood full, to his impressive height, shadow casting her out from the soft lamplight of the tent, imposing as he loomed over the bed. "Tell me what happened. We've the time."
She had a feeling it wasn't a request.
~~~~~~~~
Maj came out of Doyle's room looking flustered, looking older than his years. His head drooped, his fur sagged, his claws scraped the floor as he walked. Gwyn jogged up to him; face flush to an almost cerulean shade, the excitement of battle, the exultation of victory. Her smile faded upon seeing him. "Sir, is the General…?"
"He's okay. Physically, at least."
"I ordered Jem to bring him some lunch," she noted, obligatorily. "I um, I heard what happened. She…she was too inexperienced to be out there," the Major allowed.
"I don't think they've killed her, Gwyn. Something weird happened out on that field."
She looked at him strangely. "You don't think Breia's killed her? Colonel, sir, this is the same woman we've been fighting for nearly a decade; she's killed her own men for looking at her anywhere below the neck. Or for not."
Maj allowed a ghost of a smile. "She cleansed them. Whole freaking bloody field of 'em, Gwyn. With those demon powers of hers."
Gwyn gave him a dubious look. "Is that why we have 300 prisoners and nowhere to put most of them?"
He nodded gravely. "Some of them are repentant, some of 'em are having episodes, some of them want out, back to their own army. It's weird."
Her expression turned to one of scientific interest. "Well, we can't expect all of them to come out of their evil ways in the same manner. Different personalities, different backgrounds, experiences, those all play a part of it, I'm sure."
Maj didn't look interested in semantics. "We've been fighting these bastards longer than I can remember, Gwyn. What if it was just that big ancient infection inside them that was making them do all those evil things? What if a lot of those guys underneath were really just normal, like us? It's too weird to think about, the numbers you kill. We could have murdered helpless people, doing things under the influence of somethin' more sinister."
"They were evil, sir, I think all's fair in killing them until they stop wanting to kill you back."
He laughed a little, humorlessly. "Always a soldier first eh, Major?"
She smiled a little more genuinely. "Well, someone around here has to be."
Maj turned back to glance furtively at the room door. "He wants to go after her tonight."
All traces of humor left her countenance at his announcement. "Maj, that's suicide. Odds are she's already dead, he can't possibly…"
"He wouldn't let me stop him. And hell, I liked that little girl a lot, but even I know it's not worth the risk."
Her eyes narrowed with disillusionment. "He's been more like that, lately."
"Like what?"
She looked at the wolf. "You've seen it. He's just been doing things mechanically, taking risks, not thinking about the bigger picture. And here he's going to ride off into the sunset on a suicide mission where the possibility for success is little to nothing. It's not worth it. He doesn't know."
"Doesn't know what?"
"How much this whole effort rides on him. He has no idea."
Maj sighed, threw a look back at the ominous oak door. "Well, he better figure it out fast."
~~~~~~~~
"There's nothing I can say that's going to stop you, is there?"
Doyle patted his steed on the nose perfunctorily before reaching for the bridle, hanging on the stall wall beside him. "You always knew this day might come, Maj. If I don' make it, you're gonna take over."
Maj smiled sourly, looked out over the landscape bathed in the lengthening shadows of the setting sun. "And the whole war goes down the drain, General."
Doyle threw him a look of reproach. "Maj, don' say that."
"Why not?" the normally amiable Colonel responded. "We all know it's true. It all rides on you, Doy. It's always been about you, and how you could pull us out of scrapes and save the entire world's sorry ass."
Doyle shook his head. "It never was. War can't be fought by one man, Maj."
"We need you! Don't you see that?" there was a distinct whine in his voice, but the wolf creature cared not. "Without you we fall to pieces."
"You'll fight on, Maj. You don't need me. Never have."
"Are you so damn naive? The day I run this army is the day Saeryth's humans overrun all of Kaylorin, Doy."
Exasperated, Doyle threw his saddle blanket on his steed a little too harshly, and the animal let out a snort of discontent. "Look, Maj. You just do what you've been doin' long before I was even here, okay? I don't make it, you know what to do."
Another sour laugh. "We can't. You know I'm just a soldier, Gen. You know I'd do whatever it takes to win, at any cost. And you know that's exactly how we'd lose."
Doyle looked slightly puzzled. "I don't follow."
"You care, Doyle. You care about every man woman and child out there we're protecting. You feel for our men. You feel it when they win; you feel it when they lose, when they kill, when they die. God! That's exactly why we need you. If it was just about winning, if it was just about overpowering, the Powers could have put any asshole they felt like as leader. But they chose you. Because you know what counts. You know that in the end, the only thing we're really fighting for is each other."
Doyle sighed. "And that's what's been killing me slowly for three years, Maj!"
"Would have killed me in one," Maj responded evenly. "Which is why you're the General and I'm not. Which is why we need you. It hurts? Yeah. It's supposed to. That's how we win. We can win because you know the heart of the matter. Me? I might try, but when push comes to shove I don't give a dirty goddamn about the little nobody Corporal that got killed in a raid, who left behind two kids and a wife, a brother and a sister, a fuckin' DOG. I won't care, so long as we win. Fuck, I probably wouldn't even care about that guy if we lost. That's the difference between you and me, man. And that make's all the difference in the world. We're not fighting for anyone if not each other, and because you know that, we've been able to keep our heads above water. Not like I haven't tried to care as much, but I never will, and you know that as well as I do."
Doyle clenched his jaw at the Colonel's uncharacteristic tirade. "You done?"
Maj took a long shuddering breath. "I think so."
The General mounted his horse without ceremony. "That's the kicker, Maj. I'm startin' to care less an' less. I've always been a selfish bastard in the end, ya see…even on Earth. Only reason I was ready ta die fer Cordy and Angel was cause I wouldn't a been able to live if either of 'em had gotten hurt, so me goin' made the most sense anyway, was selfish if ya look at it the right way. I didn't give a good goddamn about those other people, the demons they thought I was savin', not really. Was always about the people I loved. An' right now, I could give fuck all about this stupid damn war so long as Cordy came back. So you tell me if that makes a difference." He urged his horse out of the stall and rode out of the stable without a backwards glance.
Maj watched him go.
Draw the shades to close my eyes
I never want to see again
I found the cost of courage high
Sometimes hard to pay
I hear the songs the sirens sing
Calling on the shores for me
So sell your soul and try to fly
The tether still remains
And all the finer things they laid upon my table
Smiled as their hooks were slowly sinking in