by Cynthia Sax
Her weapons had been neatly set on a nearby horizontal support. They appeared to have been cleaned. Carys grabbed one of the guns.
She should shoot them now.
They didn’t move, looking at her with something resembling disappointment.
Why was she hesitating? Two projectiles, one in each forehead, and they’d be dead, unable to harm another female’s little girl.
“We no longer fight for the Humanoid Alliance, Commander.” Thrasher’s voice was soft. “We escaped them.”
“That’s bovine shit.” Her hands shook. “The Humanoid Alliance has complete control over you.”
“That’s what they believe.” Ace spoke as gently as Thrasher had. “And that’s what we want them to continue to believe until all of our brethren are free.”
“They also believe you can’t lie.” Why should she trust them?
“That belief is unfortunately correct.” Thrasher’s lips flattened.
She’d kissed those lips. Her enemy’s lips.
She knew who they were, what they could have been responsible for, yet she couldn’t pull the trigger, couldn’t kill them.
That irked her. “You.” She pointed her gun at Ace. “Kneel.”
He obeyed her without hesitation.
“You.” She moved to Thrasher. “Take your restraints.” They encircled his muscular forearms. “And bind his hands behind his back. Bind his ankles also.”
“With pleasure.” Thrasher grinned.
Ace didn’t resist, gripping his hands behind his back, making it easier to bind them.
Thrasher wrapped the black restraints around his wrists. “Our Commander has a kinky streak.” He bound the warrior’s booted feet. “I like that.”
“I’m not your Commander.” She couldn’t soften her stance. They were cyborgs, responsible for her baby girl’s death. “Kneel beside him.”
“There is no need to bind us. The information we shared is a sufficient restraint.” Ace bumped against Thrasher’s shoulders. “If the Humanoid Alliance finds out cyborgs have free will, millions of our brethren will die.”
That sounded plausible. The Humanoid Alliance would kill their perfect war machines before they allowed them to escape.
Carys tucked the gun under her right arm and bound Thrasher’s wrists and ankles. The cyborgs wouldn’t have to join the Rebels to doom the Humanoid Alliance’s war efforts. All they would have to do is not fight.
“Then why did you share that information with me?” Carys didn’t reach the rank of commander by being a fool. They must have had a reason.
The two males glanced at each other.
“You’re our female, the being we’re destined to live our long lifespans with.” Thrasher was the first to speak.
“And the trust has to start somewhere.” Ace added.
They kneeled before her, bound, at her mercy. Two large warriors. They could have fought her. She was naked, had one gun. They wore body armor, had an arsenal strapped to their fit physiques. They could have overpowered her.
Yet they didn’t.
She studied them, struggling to associate the two human-looking, human-acting warriors with the big brute who had prevented her from saving her daughter. They didn’t have the gray skin, the unnatural machine-like blue eyes.
She needed distance and time to think. Carys located her uniform. It had been cleaned, was neatly folded into a perfect square.
Would killers tend to her belongings with such care?
She didn’t know.
Carys set the gun on a horizontal support and quickly dressed, acutely aware of the two males watching her. “You’re warriors.” She looked for the possible lies in their words. “Warriors don’t have long lifespans.”
She wouldn’t live long either. They were at war. If she made one wrong move, she and everyone on the battle station would die.
“We’re cyborgs, almost indestructible.”
That answer made sense. The Humanoid Alliance wouldn’t manufacture delicate war machines. They’d be sturdy, durable, long lasting, self-repairing.
She gazed at them.
They were warriors who couldn’t die. Even if she failed to protect them, they would survive, would live, never leave her.
And there were two of them.
That appealed to her. Too much.
Carys stalked to the doors. “I’m locking you inside the chamber.”
She tapped on the control panel, relaying those commands. Ace and Thrasher were bound but she would take additional precautions and bar them from leaving.
“We’ll be here when you return, Commander.” Ace said that as though there was a possibility they wouldn’t be in the chamber.
Was that feasible?
Carys looked over her shoulder. They remained on their knees. Thrasher smiled at her. Ace looked as serious as he always did.
They weren’t going anywhere.
She exited the chambers and headed toward the bridge. Crewmembers straightened as she passed them. She noted every being, reading faces, looking for any indication that all wasn’t well on board her battle station.
They appeared as relaxed as beings could be during a war, trusting her to instruct them, to keep them safe. They didn’t know she had two highly trained killers in her chambers.
She should inform the security officer. That was standard procedure.
But nothing about Ace and Thrasher was standard. There was too much unknown. She required more information. And they were restrained.
Everything was under control.
Carys entered the bridge. Her first officer immediately vacated the captain’s chair, the pretty young blonde female moving to the seat to the right of it.
Carys sat, wondering once again why Ace and Thrasher had chosen her to be their female, whatever that meant, rather than the first officer.
That female was half her lifespan, more classically beautiful, had almost as much authority as she did. She might also be easier to manipulate.
Her first officer was the logical choice.
“Is there anything to report, First?” Carys tried to concentrate on her duties.
“There’s nothing out of the ordinary, Commander.” Her first officer’s tone conveyed respect along with a tinge of hero worship. The female could have had her choice of battle stations. She’d selected Carys’, working her way up in command. “We remain on the adjusted course. There was a slight delay as the minefield was cleared but we’ve since made up for that. Three additional crew members were added to monitor our surroundings.” She dipped her head to the right.
Two females, one male, all achingly young, peered at their viewscreens. Her navigation officer strode back and forth behind them, supervising the new roles.
“Good.” Carys nodded, satisfied. “I knew I could count on you.”
Her first officer beamed at the compliment.
Carys gazed forward. The blackness of open space was displayed on the main viewscreen. What dangers waited for them out there? The Humanoid Alliance could be lurking near the next star, preparing to attack them.
“Commander?” Her first officer shifted restlessly in her seat.
“Yes, First?”
“How did you know about the minefield? It didn’t come up on any sensor.”
She should have expected the question. Carys sucked back a groan. The female was eager, shadowing her every move, determined to learn everything she could. “It was too small to show up on our sensors.”
If it had been regular space debris, it would have had no impact on the battle station. They would have plowed over it and not felt anything.
“We could only detect the minefield visually.” Her first officer paused. “But we normally don’t monitor at that magnification.” She wasn’t letting the topic go. “How did you know to increase it?”
“I had intel.” Her information had come from two sexy cyborgs with unknown motives.
“The rest of the fleet didn’t have that intel.” The younger female’s fore
head furrowed. “You received it first.”
If Ace and Thrasher hadn’t detected the bombs, everyone on board would have died. She owed them her crew members’ lives. Could she forgive them the other lives they’d taken?
If she didn’t know those lives, perhaps. If one of those lives had been Pimmy’s, no, never.
Her first officer looked at her, expecting an explanation.
Carys swallowed her unwarranted irritation. The never-ending questions were a price of mentoring skilled officers. “A good commander has multiple sources of intel.”
The female opened her mouth.
“And she doesn’t share the non-traditional sources.” Carys shut down the conversation. Her first officer would believe the information came from outside the battle station. “I need you to assume command during the next shift. I’d advise you to take a rest cycle.”
Her first officer’s eyes widened, her face becoming animated. She wanted more time at the helm, hadn’t tried to conceal that yearning. “Yes, Commander.”
There was a lightness in the female’s step as she left the bridge.
Had she ever been that eager? Carys shook her head.
She reviewed her officers’ reports, replied to communications. Another minefield had been spotted, reaffirming what she’d already known. The spy wasn’t on her vessel.
That commander would have filed his course with Rebel Headquarters also.
Fuck. Carys tugged on her chest covering. They couldn’t trust their leaders to coordinate their maneuvers. She and her fellow commanders were on their own.
The others looked to her for leadership. She had experience and a natural ability for battle strategy. They would expect her to find a solution.
The shift was thankfully quiet. Carys could oversee normal battle station operations and also work on that challenge. The time to attack was now. She knew that. But how and where?
Not having Rebel Headquarter resources was a severe blow to her strategizing. She considered and discarded several possible plans. None of them were quite right.
In addition to those tasks, she researched cyborgs.
Ace and Thrasher appeared to be K Models, the most advanced cyborgs the Humanoid Alliance had ever created. There weren’t any systems known that they couldn’t access. They were fast and strong and had a scarily high kill rate in battle.
She had two of those beings in her private chambers. Their nanocybotics, science that healed wounds quickly and extended their lifespans to forever, fizzed and popped inside her. She’d pleasured them, been pleasured in return.
They’d allowed her to restrain them.
Why? What was their goal? Did they need her battle station? Were they seeking to control it by controlling her, by appealing to her emotions?
That wouldn’t work. Carys had lost herself in emotion once.
She wouldn’t do it again.
Her first officer returned, appearing refreshed and so damn young.
Carys opened her mouth to transfer command. Her communications officer and her security officer entered the bridge.
“Commander.” Their expressions were grim.
Carys braced herself. “Report.”
“All of our systems have been compromised.” Sweat dampened the communications officer’s blue fur. “Unauthorized changes have been made to every system on board.”
“Including security.” Her security officer glared at her. He was understandably protective of his systems.
And someone had compromised them.
She was losing control of her battle station. “What type of changes?”
“Access to secure areas now requires retinal scans.”
That system had been inoperable for solar cycles. It had been damaged in a battle and deemed irreparable.
“Outgoing communications are more heavily encrypted.” Her communications officer recited.
There was a spy at Rebel Headquarters. Communications needed to be more heavily encrypted.
“Our monitoring capabilities have increased one hundred times. Our lifeform scanning has improved. We can now detect the type of being on board ships.” Her communications officer rattled off a long list of modifications, improvements beyond the capabilities of any being on board.
Any non-cyborg being.
Ace and Thrasher couldn’t be responsible for the changes. Carys pressed her lips together. They were bound.
Weren’t they?
Her gut, the same gut that had warned her about the Humanoid Alliance’s trap, told her these improvements were their doing. Carys had seen how quickly they could hack into the battle station’s systems, into her systems.
No one changed her systems without her authorization.
“This must be the patch that headquarters hinted they’d implement.” It irked her that the warriors had forced her to lie to her officers, beings she trusted with her life. “The plan was to roll it out in forty-two planet rotations.”
“They rolled it out early.” Her communication officer readily accepted her explanation, his shoulders lowering.
“They should have communicated with us.” Her security officer held onto his anger, his face flushing with pigment. “They’re putting lives at risk.”
Was she putting lives at risk by lying?
Carys pushed that concern away. She’d made her decision, choosing to trust Ace and Thrasher. She’d been presented with no new information that would change her mind.
“Headquarters knows we have the best officers in space. They must have thought we’d realize what they were doing.” She flattered the male. “I expect all of our protocols to be updated to reflect these improvements.”
Her officers’ lips flattened. That dull but necessary task would keep them fully occupied, between battles, for planet rotations.
“First.” Carys stood, smoothing down her chest covering, concealing her irritation under a blank expression. “You have the bridge.”
She had two cyborg warriors to reprimand.
Chapter Six
“Our female is returning to us.” Ace followed their Commander’s progress through the battle station’s corridors via the monitoring devices. Lines were grooved between her eyebrows. Her lips were a flat white line.
“She doesn’t appear pleased.” Thrasher’s nose wrinkled.
“Why is she emotionally damaged?” They hopped across the chamber. Thrasher looked as ridiculous as Ace felt. They had snapped the wrist restraints and would eventually have to replace them. It had been easier to leave the ankle restraints on. “We’ve optimized her systems. The battle station is much more efficient now.”
He kneeled. The battle station remained an antiquated mess, but they’d done what they could with what they had. Once they defeated the Humanoid Alliance, they’d claim a more modern vessel for their female.
She was a skilled commander. She deserved a better battle station.
“There might be another cause for her emotional damage.” Thrasher shrugged, lowering to the floor beside him. “Should we re-bind our wrists?”
Ace reviewed the inputs, evaluating the situation. “That’s unnecessary. Her rest cycle was one shift ago. Our female prefers to be on the bridge. The odds of her remaining in the chamber are low.” He feigned being restrained.
Thrasher did the same.
They waited.
Ace’s heart pounded, excitement coursing through his circuits. They would soon see their female. They’d repair her emotional damage as they’d repaired her battle station’s systems, proving their worth once again. Their Carys would claim them verbally, saying the human love words.
They would no longer be viewed as defective.
The doors opened. Their female blasted into the space and Ace straightened with pride. Her authority, beauty, passion was unparalleled.
The doors closed. She gazed at them. Thrasher smiled back. Ace allowed all of the longing in his cyborg soul to show.
Her eyes narrowed.
She’s angry with us, Thrasher t
ransmitted.
That’s illogical, Ace dismissed. We haven’t damaged her.
Their Carys circled them, pausing behind their backs. They couldn’t see her but they could hear her, smell her.
A warrior would never allow a possibly hostile being to move out of his visual range. This was an act of trust and Ace was determined to win hers.
Their female touched Ace’s wrist and he suppressed a shudder of delight. She did the same to Thrasher and the male moaned through the transmission line.
“You can stop with the act.” Her voice snapped over his hardening cock. “I know you’re no longer bound.”
Our female is intelligent. Thrasher jumped to his feet.
Ace stood also, the heels his big boots ringing against the floor tiles. “We remain bound, Commander. At our ankles.”
“Did you leave the chambers?” She moved until she faced them.
“No, Commander,” they repeated in unison.
She crossed her arms, her stance powerful. Ace’s cock pressed against his body armor. He wanted her more than his next breath.
“Someone accessed my battle station’s systems.”
“That was us.” Thrasher brushed his shoulder against Ace’s, beaming at him and then at their Carys. “We repaired every system.”
“You repaired my systems.” She lifted one of her eyebrows.
They nodded.
“Without my authorization.”
Fraggin’ hole. We made a strategic error. Their female liked control in all areas.
“You’re a great commander.” Thrasher’s flattery was the truth. Their Carys was a great commander. “Great commanders deserve fully functional battle stations.”
“The damage was impeding efficiency and compromising security,” Ace added. “To not repair it would be illogical.” Surely she would see that.
“I’m the commander.” She paced in front of them, back and forth, back and forth. “You are my guests. I make the decisions. You do not. I authorize changes to the battle station’s systems. You do not. I’m responsible for the safety of everyone on board.”
“They’re safer now, with the repairs.” Ace pointed out.
