“We did it…” he wheezes into his helmet, wasting precious air on words that need not be said.  The young man, no more than twenty, smiles, as from the ocean of blurry lights all around him emerges a very purposeful collection of them:  a space station.  He crawls backwards and tweaks a makeshift lever with his foot, a jet of propulsion sending him on a course towards his intended target.

For dear life the man clings to a pathetic pile of twisted metal, blown to bits, and nearly unrecognizable as the grand suit of mechanized armor it once was even if the observer had been familiar with its shape from its glory days.  The grey humanoid form is split down the middle, leaving not much more than an arm, a leg, and the shell of a torso; final remnants of a battle that had ended days ago and millions of kilometers away.  The armor’s pilot had miraculously survived the bisection, though until thirty seconds ago he had wished he had not.

He continues to whisper to the past-dead mech as the station’s lights draw closer.  “You saved me, Rieze.  You…  Th, thank you.  Even after you gave all you had…  I won’t go back on my word, Reize.  You saved me, and so I’ll save you.  I know you’re government property; I know you’ve always just been on loan to me, but I’ll find a way.  I’ll cash in my stipend, I’ll beg the lieutenant, I’ll quit the force and become the mechanic that repairs you, I’ll dig through the trash heap they throw you in if I have to.  I don’t care.  I don’t care if you’re dead for all time; I would have been dead.  You deserve whatever life I can still give you.  You’re worth it.”


{Couldn’t think of what else to write.  This had been bouncing around in my head for a few days.}


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