Chapter 1 Evo #2
I get up from my seat and try to covertly stretch through the discomfort like grinding gears in my gut at the memories of being hacked by Solcrue engineers aboard their mothership Vessna. Relics rescued me weeks after the females took the last of the escape pods to the surface of Planet Ellipsis.
On Solcrue mothership Vessna, I overheard Solcrue speak of Relics crashing there.
Communication came in from Leah’s half-brother, Joey, the Cyborg Submission Patrol traitor, after he’d confirmed the debris path.
He dangled his own sister in Savage’s path to attempt capture of the Relics with hopes of gaining favor with the enemy.
But Solcrue can be masters of manipulation.
And manipulation often starts with kindness.
Joey, and all other traitorous CSP, are digging their own graves twice. If Solcrue don’t kill them, we will.
I lean on the seat’s back. Struggling to straighten from the pain in my stomach, I fold my arms over the backrest and run a pain management program that blocks the signals.
Joey and CSP only think they have an in with the enemy. Solcrue are just using CSP. When the enemy gets what they want, they will leave our solar system in ruins. Just like the last time.
Jeris steps up beside me as we approach the Rogue’s ship. He stays with Relic Chaos and his mate, Celeste, wherever they go, by Chaos’ order. Jeris spares me a glance. “That’s your home?”
I barely notice the Solcruean Reject in my periphery. Relic Chaos has shared his recordings of the alien male saving his life. Celeste, Chaos’ human mate, is adamant that Jeris has Reversion Syndrome. But none of them know how sadistic Solcrue can be. Not like I do.
My Brothers would not approve of me killing Jeris. It is the only reason I don’t.
“Not that ship. Mine is gone. Fracture’s is, too.”
Jeris squirms. His scaly green face wrinkles. “Oh. I’m…sorry. I know that doesn’t mean anything, but…”
“It does not,” I apathetically reply.
My scanners monitor his every movement while I plan all the ways I could slit him open. I managed to kill many of his kind after I broke free of Solcruean servitude of Vessna. But it will never be enough.
He nods. “Solcrue are terrible. I know what I am.”
“Oh, stars, Jeris.” Celeste flicks him in the back of his cropped ear before sidling up to Chaos.
“Ow, bitch!” Jeri’s ducks and swats at her hand.
She snickers. “You are not like them. Stop apologizing. Just prove your loyalty, and no one gets hurt.”
Just prove your loyalty echoes in my mind.
I cannot comprehend how Celeste can forgive him, let alone trust him, when she served as a sex slave to a Solcrue officer before escaping and meeting Chaos. Jeris’ kind abused her in the worst way, like so many human females.
And they forced me to help.
The cold, draining feeling that spread outward from the virus-coded dart surges to the front of my mind. I shiver in disgust and close my eyes, trying to push the memory away. The Solcrue hacked my motor programs, got inside my body, and made me hurt the ones I was built to protect.
I am worse than a disappointment. I am a vulnerable, problematic model that should have never been put into production.
My days of engineering new solutions for new problems and helping my brothers adapt are long gone.
I will never contribute more than obedience again.
Only time and consistency will prove I am no longer corrupt. That’s basically what Jeris has to do.
I am no better than Solcrue.
And I think it’s half of why I hate him so much. Because I hate myself for the same reason.
I am not a beacon of hope like my Brothers are to humans or like Aegis is to all of us.
An elbow tags my armored side. I jolt and glance over at Chaos.
Chaos>>Evo: You proved yourself during the escape.
Let go of the past, Brother. I know that look.
Diesel gets it when he remembers his BloodCypher days, terrorizing Kilthrian ships.
You are dwelling on your past, which cannot be changed.
We’re here now. Now is what matters. Stay in the present, Brother.
I take in a deep breath, steal one more look at Aegis 189, which Chasm’s Rogue crew was assigned to, and straighten from the navigation seat back I’ve been leaning on. I am tired from the recent battle and don’t have the energy to argue or to fight the memories.
I also don’t want to make a scene. Craze, Armor, Karambit, Mace, and Atox converse about the docking procedures related to the Ravenger and how they will get Aegis and BlazeStar to accept a Solcruean ship as safe.
They don’t need me.
No one does.
Not even Savage.
They could’ve re-engineered the anti-Solcrue weapon to go off without my help. They have Esthi.
I was simply available.
I need time to figure out where I belong.
In recent days, I have fragmented with Fracture, been solid as a hydramidium shield with Armor, taken bullets, and mimicked Leah’s humanity, including her blood, among so many other things.
War comes with hyper vigilance, night terrors when I finally rest, and doubt.
I am already rehashing the Solcruean Venom Squadron attack and how we could lose nine human females with all the Titans we had.
The constant transformations often make me stumble through clouds that have become my sense of self, and I begin to distrust everything.
I am Evo, a model made to change. It is inherent to my design. Chaos, while a kind unit, does not know the true meaning of his name. I do. It is why I am always covered in insulating battle armor and rarely switch in my digibadge’s nano-relay.
We are rusty. There are many screws loose after years without battle. The programs are still there. But bringing them back online all at once was an overload to our taxed husks.
Power is not optimal. Recuperation has been brief and in small groups. None of us operate optimally.
With what I am, I must maintain complete self-control or isolate myself.
If I bump into anything dangerous in my state, I could set off a devastating explosion.
Because, inside, I am slowly collapsing under the weight of my hands chaining up females, dragging them through hallways by their hair, breaking the necks of human males, and parting out the husks of Brothers.
I couldn’t stop it.
Why couldn’t I stop it?
I lied to myself to cope, telling myself I was preventing them from pain, my pain, the misery of Solcrue crawling inside their bodies and manipulating their every move like some fucked up parasite. I could not cry out for help or apologize for hurting them. I was just along for the ride.
Solcrue hijacked my body. But I refused to let them take over my memory core. They did not get my recordings. But in order to protect my most precious data, I had to stay conscious of everything. It was the only way to fight off every bit of poisoned code. And that meant not sleeping. For years.
“Where are you going?” Chaos quietly asks as I turn away from the bridge.
“I need a minute to process some things.”
“If it’s RAM you need, we brought extra from the BlazeStar. “Rebel still has some. He’s in the med…”
I glance back at him and nudge his mind.
Chaos frowns at my silent request for him to stop. “Don’t get lost in your headspace and go rogue on us. I do not want to fight you.”
The warning hits home, but I’m not upset. I know what he’s doing. And I’m grateful for the reminder of Rogue Fleet’s tendency toward independence. We have to stick together. Solcrue win when we are scattered in smaller, easier targets.
Celeste gasps. “Chaos!”
“What?” Chaos shrugs and adjusts the chain of hydramidium over his shoulders.
“I’m teasing. I would never want to fight Evo.
None of us do. The moment I touch him, he turns into me.
A chaotic Trio of Terror against an evolutionary Trio of Terror is a cataclysm waiting to happen.
He can best any of us. I’m certain that’s why Solcrue hacked him. ”
With the turmoil inside me now, Chaos would not stand a chance. But Rogues are not confrontational like Relics. We see a problem, process it, solve it. We don’t fight about it.
“I just need some space,” I admit.
Chaos grins. “I knew there was a mote of humor in your core, my nebulous friend. Take all the time you need. But find us when you’re ready. And ping us if you require anything.”
When I glance at Jeris, he wilts and steps far out of my way.
Fracture notices me leaving the bridge, gets up, and follows me.
Fracture>>Evo: I am grateful for our Relic brothers, but sometimes they are a bit animalistic. I am looking forward to being among Rogues again.
Part of me is. Most of me isn’t. The Relics rescued me.
I owe my Brothers everything, no matter their model.
But I don’t know how to prevent myself from being corrupted again, except to prevent contact.
With our forces close enough to help one another, they are close enough to be infected by me if I am not completely virus-free.
So I am taking the opportunity to go out on patrol. I must protect them…from a distance.
Evo>>Fracture: It takes an animal to tame one. It is why they work well together.
Fracture sighs as we enter the dock hangar and rests a hand on my armored shoulder, a fingertip accidentally grazing my neck.
His contact makes my synthskin crackle like broken glass.
I feel it in the way it hardens, and fissures tear across the surface, rising and falling into small angular peaks and crevices.
The change cascades through my insides, making me feel like a brittle humanoid held together only by will.
I do not envy Fracture’s ability. I feel fragile and on the edge of bursting.
After a sad smile, he pats my shoulder and turns toward the opening hangar doors. The sealscreens hum and shimmer pale green because Ravenger III was a Solcruean ship.
His change slowly fades from my body, and my insides begin to feel whole again.