Thing for  iPoke who assisted in getting me a neat gig. Plus, nobody needs an excuse to play around with Si'itan armor.

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A titan, I dunno what else to call it. The thing was huge, never seen anything like it - for sure I thought it was some Zodytech. Didn’t have their marks on it though. Sure fought like one, or at least from what I knew of the stories stupid kids try an’ scare themselves with around fires.

I thought a war was going on when I first found it, never heard such’n noise. Fuckin’ thing was on the bad end of, iunno, must have been five or six shooters. It still had all its parts back then, the titan. It was takin’ some cover at first, till one of the bastards tried flanking it. If the titan was anything less than... whatever it was, woulda been dead. Soaked up half the flanker’s mag before turning and blowing the guy to smoking bits. Titan didn’t seem too bothered by being shot.

Never seen a shooter like Titan’s before, either. Thought maybe it was some kinda CEL rifle, I heard that those make a pretty big bang. Acting on a whim, I flattened myself out and started helpin’ the Titan out. Artificials usually are pretty good at figurin’ stuff out, and I was hoping that if it saw I was helpin’ it out, maybe it wouldn’t bust me to kingdom come. Not like I could run from one anyway, just my luck to stumble on this fuckin’ shoutout starring the world’s biggest art. Between me an’ Titan, the others were goners. Once or twice, I even saw Titan just shooting at their cover - whatever gun it had didn’t seem to care there was somethin’ in the way of some fresh blood. Orange molten slag shot everywhere, cover was gone, and so was the guy. Didn’t even scream, I wonder if he knew what hit him.

After everyone was dead and the area around us was lookin’ like a fuckin’ direct hit, I tried calling down to the art. It was still lookin’ around like there was more bad guys, but I was certain there weren’t any. Arts usually have some sorta radar in their heads, regular part of their implants. I wondered if Titan’s was busted. Maybe that meant it didn’t know I was behind it. Makes sense, because when I called down to it, it whipped around with some ferocious speed, that big shooter of its trained right on my face.

I ain’t never dropped a shooter and had hands pointed to the sky so fast. It was only a couple moments, but time crawled man, before Titan lowered that beast of a gun. Not all the way, but it wasn’t aimed at my face anymore. I looked past its humongous waist to the smoldering limbs of the others. The fact that Titan wasn’t aiming at my face didn’t make me feel so great anymore - not like it mattered where a CEL rifle hits ya.

I tried explaining that I was a friend, and I was helpin’ it out during the fight. It said something back, in the strangest language I ever heard. I was betting that it could understand me as well as I understood it. Oh well.

That little barrier was a problem at first, but as time went on (fast forward some days, weeks, iunno, what’s it matter anymore) it wasn’t so bad. Titan’s great. It follows me around everywhere, I dunno why. Maybe I’m the first thing it found that didn’t try to sack it for parts. I couldn’t very well ask why we were stickin’ together. I try and help it fix itself, when it gets busted. Once, fuckin’ Titan went head to head with a MAV. Thing was about its size anyway. Titan’s suit must be like a powered armor or something too, because he just shoulder-checked the fuckin’ machine and sent it flying. I don’t mean off its feet, I mean, the MAV went sailin’ though the air, man. Thing shattered some parts when it hit the ground again, but it managed to hit Titan with one of its cannons before he made it over to finish it off. Maybe a lucky shot, iunno how a driver can keep their nerves after a stunt like that.

The cannon did a number on Titan - totally busted its arm up, sent some electricity arcing - probably wrecked a part of the suit, too. Ever since then, the shielding system Titan used didn’t seem to work so good.

That was the last day Titan’s big gun had ammo, too. Used the last of it on the MAV, what a lightshow that was. Titan’s arm wasn’t fixin’ itself, like most arts do. Seemed to have it under control though, and I even managed to find an arm sleeve from a bigger orc that mostly fit. Whatever kind of art Titan was, it was fuzzy all over, like me. I found it a spare rifle, and when I handed it over, it started mutterin’ something. Next thing I know, Titan busts the stock off, rips off the trigger guard, and makes this thing into like a pistol. Figures, fuckin’ art is big enough.


Wow, I haven’t written in this for a while. I forgot I had it, honestly.

The time has been tough on Titan and I. I’ve learned a lot, we’ve visited hubs - sometimes the lights on its suit flicker, and it gets some worried-looking body language. One of its ears is missing the armor that used to go around it, the waist has been destroyed... The suit’s seen some better days. Titan seems alright though. For the most part. When the lights flicker, my mind starts wondering - if this really is a suit of armor, what happens when the power runs out? Say it runs out when we’re sleeping, and it suffocates in its sleep? I mean, I’d hope it would wake up, but you never know with arts. Speaking of, I don’t even know if its an art anymore.

One of the specialists I brought Titan to, and old gnoll scientist (had me pretty skeptical too) said there was a good chance Titan wasn’t even from here. He explained some things to me, like the “lack of radar,” - Titan probably had something like that in its suit, but our world was too different, too much electrical and psyonic interference. Most of the systems probably weren’t working right. The gnoll wondered if the helmet came off, but when he reached for it, Titan got all defensive and almost left the room. I wonder, if Titan really isn’t an art, how he or she has been living so long without any food or water. Maybe the suit. I wonder if Titan is afraid the air here might kill it. Sometimes I wonder if the helmet is damaged, and Titan can’t take it off. I try not to dwell on that thought for long.

I’m writing this watching Titan overlook our camp. I wonder how much longer our trip will be spent together, and what’ll happen first - Titan’s suit running out of juice, or the need to eat overtakes it and the helmet comes off regardless of what Titan wants. Or maybe neither. Maybe Titan is an art, just a strange one from a company long-forgotten. I try to cling to that hope, but I don’t put much stock into it.