“I suppose that’s why he’s called Rebel?”
Thruster nods. “All our names come from our inherent talents.”
“And yours isthrust?”
When he drags his gold eyes back to mine, I can’t help but smile a little.
He hangs his head and bashfully laughs. “Notthatkind of thrust. It's because of my engines. We all had similar names. Jet, Spitfire, Dart… Levi had the most human name of our batch but only because Levitator was too long. He was a beast. He could pick up fighters from the ground."
“Was?”
Thruster taps the ground, then rests a pale gold hand on it.
Dead?
"A few survived only to meet their fate in the decommissioning plant on Hyperion after we were captured. Some, I just don't have a definitive answer. There are brothers who went silent, turned off their coms. Either they wanted to die alone, or they didn't want to risk being traced by the enemy back to us. We can self-destruct. But that is a last resort only."
He draws a symbol of a shooting star in the dirt. “StarJumpers.” Then another symbol like a falchion. “VoidLancers.” Another with wings. “Terrangels. And Cosmic Piercers.” Thruster pulls a strap from a pouch inside his harness and hands it to me.
"That's what you are?" I study the crest with the stars, planet, and the wings, and realize he is all three.
“Was.” Thruster turns away from me. “Now I’m just a Titan that can fly and smash into things like a Wrecktank. And I have to get back to work as soon as Rebel has a chance to inspect my damage. He’s been busy.”
He gets up to leave, and something about it doesn't feel right.
I rush forward and take his hand. It’s warm in mine, far warmer than a human’s, and hard like metal, even with the strange synthflesh over it. I’ve only heard stories of them and worked with the little robots in my father’s hangar on VAL.
His chest swells with light when I snag him. It’s an interesting display that catches the attention of many in the cavern, even a few passing Titans outside.
Poppy steps into the opening. “Any more of you try to get in the women’s quarters will get my size whatever-this-is…” She lifts a mechanical foot that squeals. “Up your ass!”
The Titans move along.
“Thruster,” I call to him when he doesn’t look at me.
“Kelta.”
I push myself to my feet. Thruster eagerly helps me up. It's a sweet gesture from a machine. But now I know he's so much more than a starship shaped like a human with AI instead of a brain. Mother always said we made immortality a reality at great sacrifice. It means something very different from stories and holovids now that I can stare it in the face.
He is my only connection down here. I don’t want to lose him. So I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him as close as I’m able without his engines getting too hot against my skin. “Thank you.”
Thruster’s nose leaves a trail of warm breath down the side of my face. Then he unhooks my hands and encourages me back. “I’m glad you’re okay, Kelta. But it isn’t safe to touch me. And if I hurt you again, even by accident, the Brothers willdecommission me if I don’t do it first. I am their only eyes in the stars. Their need for my protection is greater than my…”
He stops, reaches for my face, and pulls back before he can touch me. "I'm sorry, Kelta, for everything: the Solcrue attacking you, being sent here into another battle, the burns, and not being able to show you the kind touch of humans. Maybe one of my Brothers can."
He turns and walks off, leaving me standing alone on my blanket bed, realizing the howling loneliness he feels is slowly killing him. Thruster can't see the good through the bad, only purpose despite loss. I have to show him what he still has to fight for. He can't give up. It isn't safe to confront the enemy at half-power with some systems inoperable.
Poppy gives me a pitiful look from the entrance, and I think she feels it, too. So I drink a hefty portion of water, put my bra back on, grab the canteen, and walk to her.
Returning the canteen to Poppy, I scan the floor for Thruster and see him on a rock at the far end of the main cavern, getting looked at by Rebel.
“So you’re a pilot?” Poppy asks.
“Yes. Built my own ships, three in total. My father made us do it so we’d respect their capabilities.”
“We could definitely use your help.” Poppy slings the canteen’s strap across her chest of raw metal.
“I’ll help however I can. But first, what can you tell me about Thruster?”
