Chapter 6 Evo
Aera’s ship is in bad shape as I tow it through the fading ripples of the solar storm and into the nebula. It will need repairs. Aera is in much worse shape.
The booster is helping, but her head needs stitches, and there’s nothing in the medical kit that will work. I’ve called Rebel and coordinated her care.
Even as I sit in the pilot’s seat, guiding us through the sealscreen into Ravenger’s hangar, I can’t bring myself to let go of Aera’s hand.
I set her ship down, switch off the gravity beam, and land beside her ship.
Outside, Titans and human females stack up cargo in a neighboring vessel, a Rogue-style troop transport I’ve not seen before.
We don’t have hoverlift beds available, so my only option is to carry my human passenger until we can meet up with Rebel.
But as I crouch beside Aera, fear of hurting her makes me hesitate.
In space, I reacted. My Human Protection Programming ran without delay. Now, it is cluttered by a million other thoughts, doubts, and priorities because she is no longer dying. But she still needs care.
I want to call another Brother and have them pick her up. But they will think something is wrong with me. Maybe there is. It’s why I resist. All I see are my hands causing harm. There are too many recordings.
Rebel>>Evo: We are departing Ravenger soon. Where are you?
A deep sigh leaves me. Slipping my arms as carefully as I can under Aera, I gather her close to my chest. My ultromotor races at the softness and fragility of her body. It is so easy for a Titan to harm a human.
Bone can break beneath just one of my fingers.
Her long, wavy brown hair spills out over my shoulder as I guide her head against me.
I close my helmet just in case. Then I get up and carry her down the ramp.
I am suddenly aware of my every clomping boot and heavy step as I look down at her sleeping face.
Blood still tarnishes her gold-brown skin.
She braved a solar storm alone to reach us, starved, dehydrated, and bleeding out. How humans can be so fragile and yet endure so much, I do not understand. But I am starting to remember why they built us and why they run to us for help.
The moment I set foot into the hangar, Atox calls to me. “Evo, Rebel’s on board. He wants to take her with us since we’re more equipped in this...thing.”
I cross the metal hangar floor and notice pallets of supplies stacked up and strapped down in the corners by the maintenance rooms. Craze’s crew has prepped additional gear in case we need it.
I cautiously carry Aera up the ramp and follow Atox’s direction to a medical bay on the left. Rebel is ready and waiting by a prepped bed. Eleven more have been stuffed in the compartment, along with stacks of blankets and bedding.
“What is this ship’s model?” I ask Atox.
A dark unit with swirls of blue light over his body, chuckles.
Castor, a Rogue I have not worked with, rolls out of a compartment in the floor like a ball.
He unfolds himself and stands. Pocketing his tools, he wipes up a glob of gear grease from an arm and rakes it over an opening grate in his side that draws the grease inside.
“It’s an F I until we name it something better.
” Castor closes the ship’s panel. “Engines are optimal, Poppy. They’re ready when you are. ”
“Roger.” Poppy, the red-eyed Relic pilot, insisted she fly the rescue mission because she is our oldest pilot. If Centurion is dead in space without a pilot, she’s most likely to bring it back to life and get it here in one piece.
“FI, yeah. Around females.” Supercharge, Sarge, grumbles as he walks by to help Siphon strap down a pallet of large water jugs. “Vandal insisted we name it the Fuck It.”
Siphon tightens the straps and then straightens with effort, and I know he’s loaded up on fuel for the generation units: Sarge and Diesel. “We had time to build but were limited on supplies. Flashbomb came up with the nicer name. He’s real sensitive like that.”
Atomizer solidifies his cloud of tiny dark orbs beside me. “FI is a one-of-a-kind transport, that’s for sure.” He glances down the ramp. “Are you rusted to the ground, Brother?”
Thyristor hustles inside and slaps the Close Ramp button. “Sorry. Had to help with some electrical repairs after the solar storm.”
Beside Poppy, a shadow of myself turns around. Eon gives me a glance before returning his attention to the stars that surround us as we leave Craze’s ship behind.
Eon>>Evo: Status?
Evo>>Eon: She is stable.
Rebel nearly has Aera’s cut stitched together as we line up behind fifteen smaller human Rebel ships.
Eon>>Evo: I was referring to you.
I assess my memory core and my backup, my processing speed, and more. Every status bar is green. I have no warnings. My vision does not flash red and amber like it did when I was hacked.
Evo>>Eon: I...am within parameters. And I am not what is important right now.
Out in space, Rebel Toriszi’s ship ignites an inky portal that will deliver us to the system where Centurion is located.
Savage>>Local + Rebel Fleet Coms: All ships awaiting portal jump, please be aware that we can only get to them quickly.
The mothership will be fitted with BlazeStar’s portal generators by Esthi’s crew.
We will attempt this procedure in under an hour.
Scanners show two Solcrue vessels at jump speeds, three days out.
We are short on time. Get the crew stabilized, the ship engines online, and the generators mounted ASAP.
The moment we are united back here, we must pack our ships and move out.
There is another place we can hide. I will provide coordinates at that time. Savage out.
Rebel ships line up for the portal. The moment their noses touch the ink, they get sucked through and vanish.
Behind us, a Rogue fighter falls in line, carrying Commander Savage and his Relic crew, who plan to tackle the portal generators and getting the engines online while Rebel ships are primarily focused on civilian duty.
We have Relic Diesel and Rogue Sarge to help us get life support systems back online.
“Easy Aera,” Rebel calmly says.
I lean back inside the doorway to check on her. Aera weakly pushes Rebel’s hands away.
“You’re on a different ship. We’re going through the portal. Hang on.” Rebel straps her down, then steadies himself on a nearby grab bar, wedging his feet between cabinets.
I brace myself in the doorway as the portal approaches.
“Jumping in three,” Poppy calls out. “Two, one...”
The ship jolts. Aera grunts like she’s in pain as the motion tugs on our bodies. Her audible agony digs into my chest like daggers. I do not understand why she affects me so much. But I feel like her outcome will determine my fate.
When we’re through, I lean out and peer up front at what’s before us. Poppy and Eon bring us around to a barely visible sliver of a dark ship in the void.
“Where’s Evo?” Aera asks.
Rebel looks over at me.
I enter the room and move to her side. “I’m here. I was just staying out of Rebel’s way.”
Rebel squints at me. A muscle flexes in his jaw.
She reaches for me, so I take her hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For helping.”
“It is in our design.”
“Your body might be a different kind of machine, but that doesn’t mean you’re a drone. You are more than that.” Aera squeezes my fingers. “You took my hand when I needed it. Something in you remembers what it’s like to be human.”
Rebel watches me closely. I cannot tell what he is thinking, but the attention makes me self-conscious and concerned that he doesn’t trust me with her. So I slip my hand from hers.
Aera seems saddened by this.
“We are here,” I tell her.
She frantically tries to sit up. An urge to help her rises in me, but I crush it down beneath my guilt. Rebel is more capable.
“Easy.” Rebel supports her, then throws me a glare.
Rebel>>Evo: Why do you hesitate to Bond to her? You saved her in a rescue operation. You are responsible for her until she breaks the Bond.
I am aware. The bond link with her name is written in the corner of my vision.
Evo>>Rebel: You told me to stay away. Besides, she will not trust me if she finds out what I did. So I must show restraint. She is your patient now. I cannot heal her like you can.
Rebel>>Evo: Aera is already attached to you, and I’m going to have hundreds of patients to work on. So you better sort your shit, Rogue.
Evo>>Rebel: Easy for you to say. You save lives. I took them.
Rebel rests a hand on Aera’s shoulder. “You need to rest. Your head trauma was significant. Sudden movements could cause you to black out for the next day or two. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
She glances between us with a worried look in her eyes.
Rebel takes me by the arm and pushes me in front of him, then guides us out of the room and closes the door.
He walks me across the main hallway into another room filled with makeshift medical beds and closes that door so we are alone on the ship.
I don’t resist because I don’t want to stir up more trouble and distrust than I have already earned.
Relics, while more primitive in design, are older.
And I will not fuck with an older Titan in a war when so many others have died. There is a reason he is still alive.
“I have not had a chance to talk to you yet, Evolution.” Rebel faces me, tilts his head like he’s listening to something, then visually dissects me.
“Humans adapt. You are like them in that sense. Your thoughts are messy. Your emotions are unregulated. And you hesitate when programming should override that.”
“Only when the situation is not Imminent Threat.”
“I am not tolerating your bullshit any longer.”
It is unusual to hear such a balanced medic unit get frustrated.
“I downloaded Rogue Medic training from Ribos before he entered recuperation on Aegis. I know what you are.”
“What am I?” Please, tell me.
Rebel’s anger eases. “You don’t know?”