Chapter 5: Thruster
Kelta never once screamed or cried. She didn't tell me to put her down even when I burned her. I know she's a pilot and lives in the sky like me, but it's her resilience that impresses me most. She knew what she had to do to survive.
Pain reminds us we’re still operating.
I lock my mind so I can think privately as Rebel runs his scanner over my hover pads. His eyes swivel with little laser bars while his tablet pulls up schematics of my engines.
She hugged me…by choice. Why would she do that? I’m a walking burn factory for humans. I even damage Brothers if they get too close.
As I sit on the rock, waiting for Rebel to finish his assessment, I think about her gesture. It means so much and yet changes so little.
I can’t let her get to me.
Rebel frees gravel from several engines in my back, then repairs the panels I’ve dented from the hard landing.
I can’t get used to how large he is compared to his previous size.
"Just say it," Rebel remarks, replacing a reshaped panel in my upper back. "What's on your mind?"
“Howdid you take his body?”
Rebel lets out a weighted sigh. "The head unit and cores were destroyed. It had no digibadge. The shell was all that was left. I just put it on like a spacesuit. Then it molded to me. I'm no longer a body inside of a body. This husk has joined with me. There is no difference anymore."
“But how?”
Rebel shrugs. “It responded to me. I’m starting to think the Creators built our bodies to adapt to us as much as we were trained to adapt to their capabilities. Then they matched us by personality for efficiency, not out of necessity.”
I get up, not sure I want to believe him. “You’re saying that I have this body because of whoever I was before this?”
Rebel glances toward the women's quarters, where Poppy talks with Kelta. "Creators knew us in ways we still don't understand. Whoever we were before becoming CyberTitans, we had roles and skills that gave us certain qualifications. I was likely a medic of some kind. You were likely a pilot, maybe a StarJumper."
“What about Commander Savage?”
Rebel shrugs. “Monster types I’m not sure about. There are quite a few that I can’t figure out. But what matters now is that we are still here, still fighting, and we have humans to protect. But I’m less and less inclined to think that is all we are capable of. Since the jailbreak, I’ve seen Brothers do many things not in their designated skill set.”
It’s easier to think I’m just what I am. The more I consider the notion of adapting to a different purpose, the more I fear leaving my decommissioned Brothers’ behind, like I’m dishonoring their memories by betraying what I am…having a life after service that they don’t get that chance to have. It also makes me wonder if I could change enough to have a mate like Rebel, Diesel, Savage, and the others. It makes me want Kelta.But to retrain mid-battle is a very bad idea. I’ll adapt when I’m forced to, not before.
“Am I good to go?”
He steps back and crosses his arms, then looks me over. "Your cyberpsyche is damaged more than your body. But you did a number on yourself this time. Why are you risking permanent damage?"
I get up, not wanting to bring it up again. “You know why.”
Rebel sighs and motions to where Diesel is in the cavern. “Get a charge, and stop pushing yourself to your limits. There will come a time when you will need that reserve energy. I hope you have it when you need itmost.”
I rub my head and try not to think about what he's implying. "Diesel's not fueling up on oil or some junk, again. Is he?"
“Rhee won’t let him. She makes sure he has good fuel.”
Noticing Taline watching from a tunnel, I tilt my head in her direction. “I’ll get back to work. Looks like your mate needs you.”
Rebel’s posture softens as if the very sight of her comforts him. I desperately want to know what that’s like.
As I walk away, Taline jumps into Rebel’s arms and kisses him with force. I want what they have, what Diesel and Rhee have, Savage and Leah, Amp and Cara, and so many others since the females fell in escape pods to Ellipsis’ surface from the motherships above.
I cannot touch humans.
And yet it’s all I can think about: Kelta’s soft skin in my hands, her curvy body against mine, the way she fought back even when she was injured.
