Chapter 3 Evo
The digibadge on Eon’s armor is dark. He’s switched off the nano link, so his suit doesn’t share his skills with me.
He hasn’t forgotten, even after all these years.
Titans aren’t the only things that can change me.
To avoid the casual bump-shift, I keep my suit’s nano-relay system off unless I absolutely need it.
Eon>>Evo: Request to send recorded data since last meeting.
Evo>>Eon: Confirmed.
A download starts in my core, showing me Eon’s video feed since I last saw him.
It begins years ago and shows the CSP officer, Iliad, shoving a boot in Eon’s side, launching my twin out an airlock with a grenade, and then turning on other Titans.
I watch Eon’s armor splinter and then feather away from the bright white blast.
I do not have to close my eyes to see his memories replay. Omega Force soldiers often compared it to daydreaming. The difference is that I am also aware of what is going on around me and am monitoring the ships in different parts of the galaxy.
For years, Eon was lost among the debris field, hunting through the space junk of dead battles, repairing himself, cycling between frozen nap cycles and rotating his body to soak up the distant sun, his only source of power.
I hear him in the recordings, praying for a chance to kill humans, losing his mind to the maddening darkness and silence, and even breaking down as his hope faded.
I wish I knew some way to ease his emptiness. “I am sorry, Brother.”
Then I receive his recording of a pieced-together scavenging ship in the debris field.
He climbs through the remnants of dead battleships, infiltrates the vessel, and kills the CSP onboard.
But there is a female he doesn’t harm, one who protects and cares for him. And there is an old man whom Eon heals.
“What happened on the ship?” I ask. “What made you not kill all the humans?”
Recordings include external audio and internal thoughts. But my Brother’s mind is quiet in the replays, which means his decision was not conscious or immediate.
Eon smirks and glances at me.
And then, in the recordings, I find the video of the human female’s skin.
All of it.
“Raven.” Eon waggles his brows as the recording of them joining Rogue Fleet plays.
He has been with them for a while. “She saved the part of me that not even a Creator could fix. She has our kind of loyalty. Her former CSP friend, Lucky, is one of the few who repaired us on CSP ships. I am certain you will approve of them. But don’t get any ideas about Raven. She is mine.”
I had hoped, like many Brothers, that we would win the war and earn our Titan females from the Creators.
We lost. CSP’s betrayal makes it impossible to know if we could’ve won.
But I am glad to know Eon has found a female who makes him complete, even if we are destined to fail again.
At least he is happy with what remains of this existence.
I just wish the revelation didn’t make me feel so obsolete. He is here, but he is also, no doubt, with her in his core. I was relieved when he arrived. Now, I am sinking back into my desire to remain alone. I need my Brother. He does not need me. He has Raven.
“You are not the only one who was lost because of CSP’s betrayal.” Eon sits back. “Human females are powerful. I heard from Relic unit Redline that his mate, Aniah, saw you break free and protect her and the others trying to escape Vessna.”
“I did. But why have the Rogues not returned to battle in two years? Why not look for the Relics? They needed help.”
Eon stares up at the ceiling like he’s still grateful for it.
“Aegis was badly damaged. The nebula sheltered them and slowly powered up the ship. But there are no supplies out here. So they sent out just one crew at a time to salvage what was needed in order to keep a low profile. We are still not ready. Definitely not for this number of humans who need food.”
He looks over at me.
Eon>>Evo: Request download since last meeting.
He was alone in space for years, praying for a chance to kill humans, until he met one he could only love. Eon deserves it after years of torture. I do not.
I wish I did. It would prove that I am not what I fear. But I know I cannot expect something or someone else to convince me I am better. The change must occur within my core, or it will not last. And I am not ready to stop torturing myself.
Deep down, in my Brothers’ cores, they have not betrayed their purpose. I have.
Eon nudges my mind. It feels like a tap to the back of my head. Rogues are more efficient and less volatile than Relic models when it comes to behavior. But we also don’t let things go until they’re solved. Relics would just storm off and brood until they either moved on or got an answer.
“Brother.” Eon studies me. “Is your alliance with us still true?”
“Yes.”
His eyes flash as programs run, looking for confirmation that I’m being honest. I am. And he nods. “Then whatever has happened, and whatever will happen, we will fight through it together.”
I switch to autopilot, lean back, and consider sharing my truth. Most of me wants to. Part of me wants to hide it forever. But Eon will know if I hold back. He always does.
What I fear is sending him everything, even the most horrific of recordings, and then having him poke some hole in my self-deprecating rut and try to change me when I don’t want to be changed. I’m not ready. I haven’t seen in myself what I need to in order to trust myself again.
“I am self-isolating to keep the Motherships safe.” I can’t bring myself to look at him as I confront the unknown.
Eon lifts a shoulder. “I heard about your capture from other Titans. But I want to get the truth from the source.”
I reluctantly send him my recordings from the last few years. He sees everything. How I killed CSP and stole their ship to fly to and board Vessna. The masses of Solcrue I killed. And the moment I was encased by a CSP seal shield similar in function to our Brother, Capsule.
CSP captured me and handed me over. They kicked my twin into space, tried to decommission him. They are the reason the war ended with loss in such great numbers: Omega Force soldiers, human females, Brothers, and Sisters who piloted our Titan ships.
My hatred of CSP runs deep.
The experiments come back to me. They kept me in a cell, shooting different materials at me just to watch me change, heal myself, destroy myself, and pull myself back together again until they ultimately tagged me with the dart that carried the infected code, making me an obedient machine.
Eon hangs his head as the recordings replay.
I move the replays into the corner of my mental dashboard, turning the process into a simple pulsing icon in the lower left area of my vision.
I’ve watched them thousands of times, trying to find a way I could’ve prevented everything, and to build into myself a blockade so I can never hurt anyone again.
“They tortured you while they controlled you.” Eon lifts his head and eyes a scar on my neck from an ion blade.
“I killed and tortured humans,” I quietly reply.
“Under duress.” Eon looks at me like he can’t understand why I feel guilty. “They had control of you.”
I nod. Ropes and chains and shackles aren’t enough for Titans unless they are electrified, blazing hot, or siphon power.
“But you broke out when you saw Aniah and her friends fighting to escape.”
I think back to the females fleeing Vessna.
At first, it didn’t register, and I was just standing among them like a rock in a river of females.
But I remember Aniah, the one who fought back the Solcrue soldier who had just killed her friend.
His dripping knife was to her throat, but she swung the metal bar in her hand, knocking him away from her.
It was just enough room that I knew my bullet would not harm her, only him.
“It reminded me of what I used to fight for.”
“That’s what happened to me. Raven and her friend, Lucky, protected me from CSP. I was going to kill them all.”
But I did kill humans, innocent ones. He knows that now. Betraying them when they looked to me for hope has slowly eaten away at me.
“Some prayed for death,” Eon mutters in realization. “Even you.”
“I could not stop myself or free them. I tried every chance I got to jump at a Solcruean dagger or in front of a gun. Anything to end the suffering my hijacked husk caused humans.”
Eon shakes his head. “You must stop this, brother.”
“I’m leaving the option on the table. Always.”
“Any one of us could be infected in such a manner at any time. I believe only you possess the ability to write new antivirus programs.”
Eon regards me with curiosity, like he’s already moving on, and the lives I took were of no consequence. They are. But Titans were not programmed to live in the past, only fight for the future.
I must be broken.
“On that matter,” he adds. “Have you learned to control the shift from memory yet? You’ve experienced thousands of body morphs at this point. Mother Besha said you were capable.”
I am uncertain if she knew that I could or was simply proposing the possibility back at the Titan plant, as we were preparing for our first mission. “Small things only. No total transformations.”
“Perhaps you have not had the ideal situation to provoke such a change.”
“Or my corruption disrupted programming and concealed the evidence.”
“Evo…”
“If someone took control of your body, would you not doubt yourself after?”
“To a point. But evidence says you are operating within standards. Is this really why you are out here? Are you still cycling this distrust in your mind? I can almost hear the gears turning.”
I shift in my seat, wondering what he will think of me after this. “Why did my self-decommissioning protocols fail when Solcrue corrupted me?”
Eon grows quiet. He stares off at the stars for a long moment, and then surprises me. “Mine failed too when I was lost in the abyss of the junk field.”
He checks a setting on the scanner and then runs a hand over his mouth. “The silence was destroying me. I was in survival mode, fearing where you were, and doubting anyone would ever come for me. No one did, but I saw an opportunity to get out, and I took it.
“You did the right thing when you had freedom. You fought alongside Relics, through Solcruean fire, to bring them and the humans’ Rebel Fleet here.
You are still one of us. You took your opportunity to return to proper operation, like I did.
You are still my brother, in life, and in synth.
Let us build this fleet together, fight for them, and find ways to prevent anyone else from suffering as we have. ”
Eon pulls up a scan of a Solcrue battle cruiser, searching in a distant area of the galaxy.
“The war isn’t over yet. We need everyone if we’re going to put the Solcrue in their place and liberate what’s left of humanity.
And while we cannot change the past, we can carry the memory of those lost as fuel for our fight.
“We will avenge them. But we are a fleet of mismatched Rebel, Relic, and Rogue ships with limited resources going up against an empire with a massive armada and human slaves, feeding them supplies. What we need is to adapt. That is your skill set. We need you now more than ever.”