The left engine of my Titan burst into flames, spiraling me out of control. Systems failing one by one, my cockpit filling up with smoke. Across the deep dark, a distinctive silhouette that every Corsair child learns to recognize before they can walk - another Titan. Its hull bearing the wear of countless battles, possibly generations old. Visible marks show its careful maintenance throughout the ages from campaigns that span from the Omegas to the Omicrons. An heirloom of an entire family line and a warrior's past, their entire souls and work put into this vessel... and its cannons pointed right at me. A Titan that was not piloted by one of our own. The vessel was in the hands of a thief.

You are unfit to fly that ship...
I will put you down.

Pride fueled me to challenge them to this duel. Seeing an outsider that would pilot a Corsair ship against Corsairs was an insult beyond words. It was out of the natural order and a matter of stolen heritage, using what is practically the spirit of our brothers and sisters to fight us. It was a violation, and it needed to be corrected.



The fight had been quick but brutal. Our cannons were similar, slow-firing and hard hitting. Each pass we traded shots. Whenever I shot, they shot, and whenever I hit, I got hit harder. They had an edge over me and they knew it. Their efficient use of our technology showed hours of study and perfecting techniques, and now, floating aimlessly in Omicron Delta, I await the final shot.

Consider your options...
You could. Simply surrender. Give up the fight...
Your argument about honor doesn't work here.

Yet it didn't shoot. It stopped, hovering there, offering me surrender. An outsider told me that it would be better if I gave up and ran away. They knew, as I knew, that a Corsair's honor is their life. To be spared was to be bound, and I refused to be shackled by the pity of an outsider. I could not bear to stand such audacity to be granted mercy from an enemy. In the moment I spoke out of anger, nearly choking on the fumes of my ruined Titan. It was a dire attempt to finish what was started.

*cough* Why the F&#@ are you granting mercy.
Because I can, Corsair. Because I can.

Our ancestors survived centuries of hardship through pride alone, and now this outsider dared to offer mercy as if it were a gift? Their tone was cold, mocking. They've bested a corsair with their own tech. I was disgusted...

The Titan that had beaten me banked away, leaving me to drift around the system, a hairs width from death. I stood there contemplating, feeling unease as to what has happened, what I've done. As almost every ship system around me was blaring, flashing, needing my attention, I thought about the Ventru line. The Corsairs who fed our people with their own flesh so that we might endure. Sometimes survival itself was the heaviest burden. But like the Ventru, I would transform this shame into strength. It helped me ease my mind.

The alarms finally break through my thoughts, and I come back to reality. Crimson red smoke is all I can see, and screeching alarms are all I can hear. My senses overwhelmed, I wrestled with my controls to try and gain enough to power through. Slowly and painfully, the ship starts obeying me and I point it towads the way back to Crete.

This encounter had left my ego bruised and my consciousness filled with the shame of survival. As I limped through the void, I knew this defeat would not be my legacy, but something intangible had been lost - a part of me that I needed to fight for to get back.
Tomorrow would come.
And with it, a debt that only blood could repay.