Chapter 17: Esthi
My use of suit thrusters is clumsy and sends me into a tumble that takes me a second to map and correct as I race toward Scythe. I know they’re freaked out about the vessel because I’m learning to sort their communications faster and read them in a split second as they load on my helmet. I’ve always been a fast learner, and right now, that’s a critical asset when I’m seriously inexperienced.
I glance back at Kelta’s ship to see her on the hull, kicking free the toasted engine. I think she’ll be okay. She seems familiar enough with ships that she doesn’t need help.
I’m the one who needs it.
Mental help for this idiotic decision!
This is not where I excel. But I know Scythe is the Reaper of Titans, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting them get anywhere close to the BlazeStar or the main battlefield if I can do anything about it.
Air thunders over my suit. It feels like trying to stand up under a waterfall. I can’t quite look up, and my feet are unsteady. But I have a special hatred for Scythe.
I had hoped it was taken out in the war. I know it has special shielding and anti-Titan weapons. It is CSP’s flagship. And the only ones who can get on board without being blown to pieces are CSP officers. I just don’t know if they can tell who’s still loyal by which ships we come from.
Otherwise, I am the perfect weapon.
If they don’t shoot me out of the sky.
Maintaining radio silence, I rocket myself toward the incoming vessel.
Scythe>>CO 952: Report.
I say nothing even as they repeat it. They’ll know something is wrong because my vocal patterns likely won’t match whoever is on file for this suit.
Scythe>>CO 952: If your radio is down, click back twice.
Yeah, no.
It’s a test. If I click back, it’s not down. It’s switched off for a reason. It’s a manipulation tactic CSP are known for. Redirection. Deflection. Distraction.
“Ping, switch off.” It’s a guess at the suit’s capabilities.
An alert flashes in the upper right corner with a signal beacon in a circle with a line through it in red. No one can track me now. Not my source patrol ship, not the Titans. Not Scythe. I know a few things. Not everything. But enough. If there was a way CSP could play dirty and keep control, they did.
We were so afraid of what our AI and cybernetic creations would do to us if they learned they were stronger that we lived in fear of something we didn’t need to. Then, our elite human guards turned on our finest creations, tortured them, and killed them because of that fear.
Now look at where we are.
I am so ashamed of the weakest of our kind, and yet I know it is because they did not understand our creations. I do. They were not ready to confront their fears. I am.
I’m trying.
Titans are human inside. Armor has shown me that. Everything from lust and tenderness to anger and desperation. They still care about their Brothers, want to know love, to feel alive, and to have purpose.Solcrue threaten all of it. And CSP. Especially Scythe.
Scythe banks away from me, likely because I have not responded.
If I don’t redline my suit, I will miss catching a ride and my chance to stop them. But I’m already behind.
Scythe launches familiar warping pulses that make Titans fall like dead weight on their ships, toppling to the dunes like husks of gray men. Stolen Skysprinters plummet to the dunes from the EMP blasts.
It is heart-wrenching to watch. I swallow against the ache forming in my throat, hating that any of them have to know such misery and deep down praying Armor isn’t hit. Knowing what I do about how his Brother squadrons from the BlazeStar met their fate makes me all the more determined to take Scythe out of the game.
A shield flickers to life around Thruster as he rockets through the air, rescuing falling brothers. I don’t know if he’ll be fast enough, and he’s on limited power. He can’t do it forever. None of them can.
Another shielded Titan fires rockets manually from another vessel. He hops off of it and falls to another, where he fires again like he’s challenging them to try to hit him. But the number of Titans they’re taking down is devastating.
“Increase thrusters to 100 percent,” I command my suit.
