Chapter Text
The quiet moments between battles were the worst part of being in a global war. The silence ate at you, frightened you, made you twitch, in a way that even being in the midst of horrific fights against the invaders from space couldn’t. It was something about having time to actually slow down and process things, without countering attacks and decapitating Astros, that was scary. The semi-titan of the speakermen was all too familiar with the feeling.
Executor stood among the formerly proud buildings of a midsized city turned war zone, resting her arms on a tall rooftop and absentmindedly drumming her fingers on its dust blown surface. Her scythe was propped against the damaged building beside her, serving as a reminder of the most recent battle several hours earlier. Despite the odds, ambushing the Astros in these ruins had been a good idea, as the Alliance had managed to route them from the surrounding area for several kilometers in all directions. Now they just had to make sure that the invaders didn’t try to retaliate, which was why the Speaker Armada was still stationed here in the center of the ruins, waiting for the call to return to base.
The semi-titan glanced down at her feet. Three speaker striders had gathered in a circle around her, settling down below the massive frame of their commander and whirring softly as they began to recharge, trusting that she would keep them safe from any dangers. Nearby, several large speakermen kept watch from the tops of abandoned structures, while below them, many armada members danced to a wide variety of music, including their famous anthem. Normally, Executor would have joined them. In fact, she most likely would have started the dance herself, being just as musically inclined as the rest of her people. (And about 100% more chaotic, as they constantly reminded her).
But Executor didn’t feel like dancing today. Not when her brother was still out on the battlefield, and she was stuck here with the armada, unable to assist him. Executor knew that he was the most powerful fighter in the entire Alliance, and therefore could certainly handle a few remaining Astros from a fight that had ended hours ago, but still. She worried.
“If Speaky doesn’t get back here in the next twenty minutes, I will disobey every damn order and find him myself.” The semi-titan muttered, internal sound systems humming in a mournful tone before she could stop them. Executor’s thoughts were interrupted as she glanced down again and noticed a small figure approaching, her pink tunic contrasting sharply against the bleak and dusty ground.
Speakerwoman stepped between the resting speaker striders, before pausing to look up at the semi-titan. “Hey, Exey.” she transmitted.
Executor chirped in what she hoped was a cheerful enough sounding greeting, and knelt to place one large hand on the ground for her friend to sit on if she wanted. Speakerwoman climbed onto the offered hand and nodded up at her armada co-commander, who carefully lifted her up to the high rooftop so they could talk at a level more relative to their huge difference in height.
Speakerwoman stared at the now significantly large dance party below, before returning her gaze to her friend and emitting a buzzy laugh. “I never would have guessed that someone other than you would start a rave right after a long battle.”
“I would have.” Executor rumbled softly. “I’m just. . . tired I guess.”
“Me too, and I don’t have to lug around a massive warp drive and scythe. I’ll bet you’re exhausted.” Speakerwoman said, patting the semi-titan's arm. “We should get to go back to base soon though.”
The sub speakers on both sides of Executor’s head shifted a little as she replied. “That’s the problem. I’m not going back to base until everyone is done fighting.”
Speakerwoman inclined her head in an understanding way. “You’re worried about Titan.”
“Yes.” Executor admitted. “I know it’s irrational and he can handle himself, but this battle was. . . intense and I want to make sure he’s okay.” She sighed, exhaling a gust of air from her vents that blew away some of the dust gathered on the roof and made Speakerwoman’s cape flutter in the sudden breeze. “Why can’t I just focus on commanding the Armada who needs me?” she thought furiously.
Speakerwoman hummed thoughtfully before she answered. “Exey, he’s been fighting this war almost since the beginning. If anyone knows how to survive a battle, it’s him.” She paused for a moment before adding: “But you’re not wrong to worry. I know how it feels to be separated from your sibling during a war. Even if you run most missions together, there will always be ones where you have to spilt up. And those are the worst kinds of assignments.”
“Your brother. . . he never made it back from Alpha Hills.” Executor said, immediately regretting how direct and insensitive it sounded. Why couldn’t she be more careful about a subject that had hurt Speakerwoman more than anything else ever could in this horrid war?
Her friend seemed to take it in stride though, looking out at the horizon before quietly replying. “No. He didn’t. But your brother did.” If Speakerwoman had said anything else, it would have been inaudible over the sudden overwhelming roar of jetpack thrusters at a volume that nearly cracked the craggy and dry ground further, suggesting something very large approaching at an incredibly fast pace.
A cheer went up from the enthusiastically dancing members of the Speaker Armada as Titan Speakerman landed in the center of the newly Alliance claimed territory, seemingly no worse for the wear despite the long battle. His massive arm cannons were smoking slightly and the long dagger that he usually kept in his boot appeared to be missing, but apart from that he looked much as he had early that morning when the Armada had left their base to take the fight to the Astros. What struck Executor aside from her immense relief of seeing that he was uninjured, was the utter silence from him as he surveyed the area, sharply contrasting the loud music the rest of the speakermen blared.
Executor had heard the stories of course, tales of events that happened long before she’d been created by the speakermen to fight for the future of the world. How Titan Speakerman had become a symbol of hope for the Alliance, even in their darkest moments. How the famous theme song of the speakermen, blasted from his colossal speaker banks after victories, had been a rallying cry of the cameramen and on occasion, their TVmen allies. True, he still played their people’s theme during battles. The entire Armada did. But the brother Executor knew almost seemed to be separate from the one the Alliance whispered about in reverent tones. As the war had gotten steadily worse, hope was getting more and more scarce, even among the cheerful and upbeat speakermen. “And that’s not even counting who he lost.” Executor thought sadly.
The speaker titan seemed to finish his apparent scan of the Armada, obviously making sure that everyone had been accounted for, before his glowing red optics focused on her. A low and deep rumble of greeting emanated from the enormous being, reverberating through the air and rattling the partially collapsed structures scattered around the area. Speakerman stepped forward until he was in front of the semi-titan, and lowered himself to tap his head speakers against Executor’s, an affectionate greeting common among speakerkind. Speakerwoman waved at the titan from her lookout on the rooftop, and he returned the gesture with a happy sounding chirp.
“What took you so long to get back?” Executor asked, punctuating the question with a loud buzz of her speakers. “I was about to mobilize the entire armada and search for you.”
“I returned as soon as I could, Exey.” Speakerman said. “Several Astro destructors tried to reclaim an area in Sector 7 and I wasn’t about to let them have it.”
He hadn’t reprimanded her for nearly disobeying orders. Executor wasn’t exactly surprised, it wasn’t the speaker way to needlessly argue, especially during a war when there were more important things to focus on than what-if scenarios. “So now that the battle’s over, are we going back to base?”
Speakerman shook his head. “Not yet. We need to wait for a while longer to make sure that they don’t counterattack again.” He sighed; a deep rattling sort of sound and turned to address the rest of the armada. “I’m sorry, everyone. I know it’s been a long day.”
“It’s okay, Speaky.” Executor said. “I’m just glad you made it back safe.”
“Me too. And most of all I’m happy you’re alright.” Speakerman replied, as he carefully sat down and leaned against the abandoned building to rest. Beside him, the recharging speaker striders that were still gathered around Executor’s feet rustled and hummed sleepily, obviously not pleased about being accidentally disturbed from their “naps” by the massive titan with his naturally loud voice and ground shaking footsteps. Speakerman glanced at Executor, head speakers bobbing up and down in that inquisitive way he always seemed to have. “Tell me how the battle went for you and the Armada?”
Executor stepped over the newly resettled striders and flopped down beside her brother with a sigh. “Loud with lots of explosions and music.”
He chuckled. “Same. Pretty standard for the bunch of musically obsessed creatures we are.”
Executor elbowed him. “Yeah, but next time you’re staying with the Armada so I don’t waste processing power on worrying about you getting yourself into trouble.”
“Don’t worry.” Speakerman said. “I fully plan on seeing this blasted war through. They’ve taken enough of us.”
“I know.”
The Speaker Armada continued its celebratory dance in the afternoon sun, under the protective and watchful gazes of their titan and semi-titan commanders.
***
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Executor idly trailed one finger along the dusty ground in front of her, tapping out the rhythm of the latest song played by the armada. It had been almost an hour since Speakerman arrived, and nothing much had happened since then. They were all still waiting to make sure that the Astros weren’t planning another attack. And the waiting was beginning to drive Executor insane. In her opinion, sitting around was one of the biggest wastes of time in existence, and she would much rather be flying as high as she could, blasting music and pulling crazy midair stunts. The louder and more obnoxious the music, the better. Even though her energy reserves had taken a hit after the long day of fighting, it would still be preferable to this.
Speakerman looked over, almost as if reading her thoughts. “I think you may have just broken your all-time record of sitting still.” He laughed; a loud rumbling thing that caused several nearby speakermen to spin around in surprise.
Executor narrowed her optics at him. “This is torture for me and you know it. How much longer do we have to sit in this dust bowl?”
Speakerman shrugged. “The scouts at the perimeter haven’t spotted anything, but Command still wants us here for a while longer, maybe until the cameramen arrive this evening.”
Executor groaned. “I am not waiting here until evening.” She stood, brushed the dust off her tunic and reached for her scythe, securing it on her back behind the warp drive. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Be careful, Exey. Don’t leave the perimeter alright?” Speakerman said, shifting his massive speaker banks in a way that looked worried.
“Okay! See ya, Speaky. I won’t be long.” Executor waved at him, then at Speakerwoman who was talking with a small group of armada members from the rooftop where she’d been earlier.
The semi-titan glanced back in the direction of her people, before turning to head away from the heart of the former city and into the desolate but now peaceful wastelands beyond. The warm sun beat down on her as she walked, heating up the top of her head and antennas, though not unpleasantly. A gentle breeze blew smoke from the still burning fires scattered around the area, fires fueled by the wreckage of both defeated Astros and armada casualties. Even though the speakermen had lost few members during the battle, it was still devastating every time any of the close knitted group that was their people perished in the long and exhausting war.
Executor’s thoughts once again drifted to her faction’s titan. Speakerman had lost everything. Both his brothers gone, one right after the other. He hadn’t even had time to mourn them; as soon as his upgrades were ready he’d thrown himself back into battle, fighting alongside the armada as the last hope the Alliance had. Speakerman pretended he was okay. Everyone in the war did to an extent. But Executor knew better. So many times late at night when everyone at the base was recharging, she’d heard him crying behind the doors of his hangar, thinking she was offline like everyone else. Not knowing that she wandered the massive lower level of the base that they shared almost every night, lost in her own thoughts about the war. Executor wanted to help him, wished there was a way to erase the pain, but what could she say to someone who’d lost those he loved more than anything? How could someone who’d never even known them possibly help?
“You would have loved them, Exey.” He’d told her once. “Cam was the kindest member of the entire Alliance. Come to him with any problem, no matter how stupid, and he would listen without judgment. And Vee. . . well let’s just say he would either make you laugh hysterically or make you want to throw him off a cliff. There was no in-between.”
Both of them were gone now. Titan Cameraman had sacrificed himself for the Alliance when the Astro fleet first arrived on Earth a couple of months ago. Titan TVman had been infected by the Astros and since used against the Alliance as a mindless weapon known as the Watchman of Doom. There had been many rescue attempts of course. But all had failed, and the Astros kept the brainwashed shell of what had once been Titan TVman hidden in their impenetrable mothership, bringing him out to fight equipped with more and more deadly upgrades every time. Executor knew that Speakerman wasn’t about to give up on him, not until he was saved or Speakerman could bring what ever remained of him home. But until then, Titan TVman was as good as gone to the Alliance and his people. And everyone knew it too.
Executor realized that she’d been clenching her fists tightly as she walked, fingertips digging into the small speakers on her palms. She sighed and kicked a piece of Astro scrap metal across the dry ground, discarded from the fight earlier and glimmering brightly in the afternoon sun. “Stupid cosmic toilets.” she muttered.
The piece of metal pinged loudly as it bounced off a nearby boulder and clattered back into stillness. Executor froze. Not because of the metal hitting the (comparatively tiny) rock. But because she’d heard something else; a sound so faint that it would have been inaudible to anyone outside of her people with their keen audio systems:
A quiet and rhythmic huffing noise. Almost like the sound of air traveling through the ventilation ducts at the base, but somehow. . . different.
Executor cautiously stepped forward, trying to pinpoint the noise. She reached behind her and pulled the scythe off her back, flicking the power on with her thumb and feeling the reassuring thrum of her weapon as it charged up to full power with its red plasma glow.
The semi-titan scanned the area, but saw nothing apparently dangerous looking. Directly in front of her was the corpse of an Astro destructor that had perished during the battle, its armor shell badly scorched and its long, awful neck stretched far along the ground.
The huffing noise seemed to pick up in frequency as Executor moved closer to the dead Astro, scythe raised and ready to strike at anything that moved. Was the sound coming from behind it? The Astro was clearly dead, so the noise couldn’t be coming from a corpse, right? Executor walked around to the front of the creature’s head and stared down at its slack and bloodied face. The Astro had evidentially taken major damage to the head, as shown by the messy and deep lacerations that exposed the sickening gleam of its skull to the sky. Blood ran down the sides of its face in thick rivulets and pooled on the ground beneath the alien’s head.
Executor leaned forward and lightly poked the Astro’s nose with the tip of her scythe, testing to see if the corpse would react. (And also because she’d been wanting to poke an invader’s weird and squishy human-ish face for a while). Not expecting anything to happen.
Which was why she was completely caught off guard when the huffing suddenly culminated into a loud snort, and the Astro’s horrifying red eyes snapped open.
Executor scrambled backwards as the Astro reared up and snapped at her, teeth missing her antennas by a hair. The creature’s mouth spread wide in a slow show of teeth as it began to chant its people’s anthem, swaying back and forth unsteadily from its injuries. Before the semi-titan could attack, the Astro charged its front cannons and fired a deadly stream of yellow plasma energy directly at her.
Executor planted her feet and spun her scythe, forming an impenetrable shield of whirling red that deflected the Astro’s attack back at it. Her speakers screamed loudly, knocking the creature back even as it tried to push through its own deflected energy bursts. With no other available recourse, the Astro broke off the attack and darted backwards, hovering out of reach and looking much worse for the wear than before, face burnt and skin peeling disgustingly.
The Astro destructor was in no condition to fight her, and it knew it too. With a last grin and yell of “Skibidi,” the thing took off, flying away at an impossibly fast pace thanks to its warp engine that had likely brought it here in the first place.
“Coward!” Executor shouted after the retreating enemy. She was not about to let it get away. Not when it could threaten the entire newly Alliance controlled territory by bringing in more reinforcements. Tightening her grip on the scythe and activating her own warp drive, she launched into the sky to pursue the fleeing invader, sound systems humming angrily.
After a minute of searching, the Astro was once again visible up ahead. Executor sped up, flying low over the ground with her scythe poised to strike the creature in a final and finishing blow. The Astro turned and noticed her, wide grin fading as it appeared to realize it could very well meet its demise here in the next few seconds. The invader spun around and vanished, warping away in the direction of the nearby canyon and cliffs scattered around the area, obviously hoping to hide there.
It thought she wouldn’t follow it there? That she was about to give up? Executor put on a burst of speed and arrowed towards the cliffs, determined to find the Astro before it could go rat to its superiors and call more of its kind to attack the Speaker Armada.
Upon reaching the cliffs, Executor slowed down and landed just outside of where the massive canyon began, hoping to get a jump on the Astro before it could hear her and leave again. The canyon was vast, stretching for several kilometers and surrounded by tall craggy cliff walls that cast the canyon basin in perpetual shade. The semi-titan stepped into the canyon quietly, rounding the first bend in its long and snaking length.
Sure enough, the Astro was there. Looking for all the world like it straddled the line between life and death. And this time, she’d trapped it.
The creature shrank back against the canyon wall, charging its cannons and grinning maniacally, back thrusters smoking and obviously unable to sustain further flight. Even in the face of certain doom, the invader wouldn’t go out without a fight.
Executor approached, scythe gleaming in the sun and prepared to decapitate the alien once and for all.
And that was when a cyan laser blast slammed into the left side of the Astro, ripping its armor plating into a thousand burning pieces in less than a second.