Page 3 of Craze

I do, too. But I don’t tend to over think things. I react when threats are imminent, when situations ask for it.

The ground falls away from us as the stars become clearer. Below us is the compound that held us captive for years. It is a metal prison tarnishing the beautiful natural terraformed surface of Hyperion. But as much as I hate the cell, I want to get as far away from this place as possible.

Tangle is in knots beside RamBash as pieces of him rotate and reposition with his frantic look out of each glass panel. He’s like a gold puzzle that keeps folding in on itself and taking shape in a new place, like Shifter.

A Skysprinter rips toward us from the plant below, trailing steam behind its full-throttle thrusters.

Brothers shift and chatter lethargically around us. Defensive programs run, but I quiet them and assess my ability to engage. By the thickness of my cell, I think I can breakout.

Craze>>Commander Savage: Request to break formation. Skysprinters on approach.

Savage>>Craze: Stand down. Leave the fighting to Amp’s team.

Thruster>>Local: I can’t rocket out. I’m boxed in by Brothers.

Savage>>Local: Do not risk breaking Brothers’ cells to fight back! Amp, you’re on your own.

Amp clicks back.

I’m not good at remaining still when danger approaches. My entire being is designed to thrive in action. I want to fight with an urge that borders on insanity. Making myself stay put is like holding back from scratching a maddening itch that consumes my body.

A bright light behind Tangle makes me brace myself in my cell.

Craze>>Local: Incoming!

My Brothers turn to look as a missile slices through the sky, heading for us. The blaze severs the gravity beams holding up several cells. I watch it raze my hope along with theirs.

Momentum eases.

My hibernation chamber floats with several others for a moment before Hyperion’s lower gravity grabs us. There’s nothing I can do to stay with Amp and the LightBlade.

Our cells become caskets.

I count the brothers who fall with me: Tangle, Macabre, Axe, and RamBash.

Macabre growls, regaining strength as our chambers’ hibernation capabilities are cut off from power.

Amp relays to us the sound of a woman crying out as we fall. The one he calls Cara, the half-breed, hismate,is broken that we are lost.

Memories and hopes flash through my mind as the real possibility of the Black Death sinks in.

I wanted a mate like her.I worked hard for one. Traitorous soldiers, humans meant to ensure our compliance, turned on us all in the end. They set us up,huntedus. Our chances of winning were slim with them on our side. When they betrayed us, they doomed us.

Cyborg Submission Patrol must burn.

One day, they will. But someone else might have to do it now.

I still hope we operate long enough to get our revenge and also to meet Cara one day. I want to thank her for caring. It has been a long time since it felt like anyone gave a damn.

As the moon draws us closer, my reactionary system comes online. Commander Savage’s orders to stay put are replaced by self-preservation programs.

We have to break out.We will be lost if we don’t act fast.

I brace myself in my cell and slam a fist against the glass. The hit sends pressure through my right fist and arm, up to my shoulder. I ignore the pain. It will pass. My nanosolution acknowledges the damage and surges to my arm, repairing and bolstering it for the next hit.

The glass cracks.

Axe’s arms form blades, and he pierces his chamber first. But he’s too far away to free the others as gravity and momentum scatter us like seeds in wind.