by Cynthia Sax
And they trained.
Which was a challenge in the small space.
“Stop grumbling.” Thrasher spun his guns in his hands. “I didn’t put a projectile in your ass. I merely stunned you.”
“You’re not adhering to the rules.” Ace wiggled his fingers, his mobility returning. “We said no shooting next to the sleeping support.”
“I didn’t damage it.” Thrasher wasn’t that foolish. They needed the sleeping support for breeding. “I only damaged you.”
“Frag you.” Ace lifted one foot, shaking it. “Our female is coming back to the chambers now and I won’t be at optimal levels. She’ll deem me unworthy.”
One of the wall viewscreens had been programmed to follow their Commander, the audio lowered to cyborg levels. They knew where she was at all times.
“She won’t deem you unworthy.” Thrasher hoped. Ace was much more worthy than he was, not that he’d ever admit that to the warrior. “We train until she enters the chambers.” He needed to burn off some of his excess energy.
“Allow me to get up to speed.” Ace ran around the perimeter of the chamber. His pace was faster than a human’s but lethargic for a cyborg.
Thrasher was going to shoot him in the ass again. “You’re fast enough.”
He chased the male, a gleeful grin on his face. They both wore their full body armor, weighed down with guns and daggers. Thrasher admired the breadth of Ace’s shoulders, the power in his legs, the play of muscle over his ass.
Ace shot over his shoulders, using his sensors to locate him. Thrasher dodged the blasts and returned fire. The impact dented wall panels, wall panels that they now used as running surfaces, having gained enough momentum to leave the floor.
A human would merely see two black blurs zipping around the walls. Thrasher was able to track his prey and was slowly gaining on him. Ace hadn’t fully recovered from the previous stunning.
The doors opened and closed. Their female’s scent intensified in the space.
“She’s here.” Ace slowed.
“What are you two doing?” she demanded. Judging by her tone, she wasn’t happy.
Thrasher knew what would make him happy. He shot Ace in the ass. The male jerked. For one cyborg heartbeat, he froze in the air.
But then the battle station’s manufactured gravity was too much for him. He fell to the floor, landing face-first, the heavy thud making Thrasher wince.
We train until she enters the chamber. Ace cursed at him through their private transmission line. You made that rule, genius.
I broke it. Thrasher pushed away from the wall, flipped backward and landed on his feet before their female. “We’re training, Commander.”
Their Carys crouched beside Ace. She cupped the warrior’s cheek, her concern causing hope to unfurl in Thrasher’s chest.
She cared for them. Although she had never expressed that in her words, her actions told him that.
“Does he require a medic?” She stroked Ace’s twitching skin.
“No medic is required.” Cyborgs didn’t need them. Their nanocybotics repaired them. “He’ll be at full functionality in a few moments.”
Frag you, Ace transmitted. He was unable to move his mouth but his processors still worked. You’ll end our next training session with no functionality.
You’d have to shoot me first. “It’s not yet your rest shift.” Thrasher smiled at their Carys. “You’ve returned early.”
Had she missed them? He gazed at her, hope in his heart.
“There’s an Officer event.” She straightened. “If I had other beings I trusted to assist me on the bridge, more of my officers could attend it.”
She’s referring to us. Thrasher squared his shoulders. She trusts us.
That was significant. Their female didn’t trust easily.
“But since Ace is out of commission…” She gazed at the warrior.
She believes I’m unworthy. The dismay in Ace’s transmission filled Thrasher with guilt.
You’re worthy. “Ace is fine.” Thrasher grabbed the warrior’s arm and pulled him upright. Ace fell forward. Thrasher straightened him, wrapping his arm about the male, supporting his weight.
Their Carys narrowed her eyes. “He’s non-responsive.”
“He’ll be responsive by the time we reach the bridge.” Thrasher did the calculation. It would be close but he should be moving by then.
Shake it off, ass. He told the warrior.
Shake it off? You stunned me. Again.
You allowed yourself to be stunned. Again. Thrasher was unapologetic about that. They should always be on guard. They had a female to protect.
“I’m the commander.” Their Carys relayed a fact they would never forget. “Outside these chambers, you’ll follow my orders. Without question. Without hesitation.”
“We will follow your orders.” Thrasher answered for both of them. “As long as those orders don’t put you in danger.”
Their female frowned.
“We told you, when we returned, that we would never damage you.” He reminded her. “We would battle the universe to keep you safe. That is our first priority--keeping you safe.”
“Because you need my help.” Her voice was soft.
“Because we need you.” He would repeat that as often as she required. “You complete our circuit. You feel that connection.”
Their Carys met his gaze. She did feel it. He saw that truth in her eyes.
“We have to make a brief appearance at the event first.” She turned, placed one of her palms on the control panel. “It’s expected.”
The doors opened. She walked out of the chamber, along the corridors.
Thrasher followed, dragging Ace along with him. Heads turned. Beings watched their progress, speculation in their expressions.
This is humiliating, Ace muttered.
Make yourself useful. Thrasher found the situation amusing. Monitor our surroundings. I have my hands full and might not be able to react as quickly as I usually do.
We’re putting her in danger. Ace wiggled his fingers. You should have left me in the chamber.
She wouldn’t have allowed that. And Thrasher wouldn’t have abandoned him either. They were a team. Where Ace was, he would also be.
They trekked through the corridors. Their Carys didn’t look back. She expected them to keep pace, expected them to be worthy, and they wouldn’t disappoint her.
Ace’s mobility gradually returned. By the time, they entered the large, being-filled party chamber, he could stand on his own. Barely. He continued to lean on Thrasher.
Thrasher liked having an excuse to touch his normally perception-conscious warrior. Ace was injured. No one would question their closeness.
As they stepped across the threshold, beings looked in their direction. They straightened and the chatter stopped.
Everyone respected their female. Thrasher’s chest expanded with pride.
They stood for a moment at the edge of the group. This must be the Officer event their female had referred to. Thrasher gazed around them with interest. He had never attended a social gathering of this type, a party, he believed the humans called it.
The chamber was decorated with brightly colored strips of fabric. Images of two smiling Ungarian male officers were displayed on the wall viewscreens. Their Carys was in some of the shots, standing in front of them, in full uniform, her dark hair bedecked with flowers.
“Commander.” One of those Ungarian males depicted rushed forward, the other male following him. “We’re so glad you could come.” He reached out his hand.
Ace and Thrasher stepped closer to their female.
The male’s gaze flicked to them and his hand lowered.
“I…” Their Carys paused, “We only have a moment, but we wanted to convey our congratulations on this special planet rotation.”
She used the word we, including them in her plans. Thrasher grinned at Ace.
“The five moons have smiled on you and your mate.” She switc
hed to Ungarian, her growls painfully stiff. “We wish you many more moons of happiness.”
Thrasher searched his databases. That was the formal felicitations for an Ungarian pair who were celebrating five solar cycles of togetherness, an important milestone in the culture.
He glanced at the beaming males. Ungarian pairs consisted of one male and one female. These were two males.
They are defective also, Ace transmitted what Thrasher was processing.
Yet our female accepts their bond. Thrasher read the genuine happiness on their female’s face. She celebrates it.
“This wouldn’t have been possible without you, Commander,” the more verbal Ungarian male gushed, hugging the other officer. “If we were on Ungaria, our bonding wouldn’t have been recognized at all.”
“But you’re not on Ungaria. You’re on my battle station and I recognize your bonding.” Their Carys’ tone bordered on arrogance. “Your crew members recognize it also. They wish to celebrate with you.” She gazed around them. The guests acted as though they hadn’t been watching her. “Which means we should return to the bridge.”
“Stay for a few more moments.” The male’s plea lacked conviction.
Their Carys must have noticed that insincerity yet she didn’t appear to take offense. “We can’t stay longer, unfortunately. Enjoy.” She dipped her head and turned.
Thrasher and Ace stepped to the side. She marched out of the chamber. They trailed their female, guarding her rear.
And her front. And her sides.
The talking resumed behind them. Beings questioned who they were, why they were on the battle station, what their relationship was to the commander.
“Your crew might be more comfortable if you attended the Officer Event alone. We could wait for you outside the event’s chambers.” Thrasher offered.
She had included them in the introductions. They wouldn’t ask for more than that.
“It isn’t you. It’s me.” Their Carys’ tone was rueful. “I’m their commander. They can’t relax around me.”
“And you can’t relax around them.” Ace’s ability to speak had returned. “But you can relax around us.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Can I?”
“You can.” Thrasher ran one of his palms down her back.
Ace did the same.
They were alone. No one was watching them. The action wouldn’t undermine her authority. That was always a consideration with their powerful female.
“We can discuss anything.” Ace’s voice was soft.
“What is it that you wish to discuss?” Their female’s form stiffened.
Don’t ask about her officers, Thrasher advised.
I am asking about her officers.
Fraggin’ hole. I knew it.
And Ace wouldn’t be dissuaded. Thrasher heard that in his transmission.
“Ungarians believe beings like your officers are defective.” Ace, being Ace, bluntly stated the situation. “They serve no useful purpose. They can’t produce offspring naturally, can’t continue the species.”
“I can’t produce offspring naturally.” Their Carys’ spine straightened. “I’m past my childbearing stage. Does that mean I serve no useful purpose?”
“No. You--”
“My space traffic officer and my communications officer love each other.” Her boot heels rang on the floor tiles. Their female was very angry. “What do you do when you love someone? You ensure they are as safe as possible. Sometimes you fail.” Her voice broke.
Thrasher’s heart squeezed. She was thinking of her daughter, how she’d failed to protect her. It irked him that he couldn’t repair that emotional damage for her.
“But you try your best.” She lifted her chin. “My officers care more, not less about the jobs they do. Their love keeps everyone on my battle station safer. That’s all that matters to me.”
“I--”
“And love is never a defect.” Their Carys wouldn’t allow Ace to speak. “You will not refer to it in that way again, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Commander.” Thrasher and Ace hastened to respond, trying to appease her.
“It takes strength to love, to risk pain and heartbreak, strength I don’t think I have.” She whispered the last part. “You won’t diminish its power, not while you are on my battle station.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Her words should have lowered Thrasher’s hopes. They didn’t. His heart told him that a being with such respect, such admiration for love was likely to experience it again.
“We need all of the strength we can muster.” She frowned fiercely. “We won’t defeat the Humanoid Alliance without it.”
She sees our connection as a strength, Thrasher communicated to Ace.
She was referring to her officers, not to us.
Thrasher gritted his teeth, unable to argue. She had been referring to her officers but he suspected some of that passionate defense was for them.
They followed their female.
Her crew gazed at them with wide eyes, whispered about them once they believed their commander was out of auditory range.
The humans and humanoids didn’t know Ace and Thrasher were cyborgs, that they heard every murmur, every theory about their presence on board the battle station.
The consensus was they were introduced to officers at the Five Moon party because they were also a same sex couple.
Her crew knows our secret. Thrasher was triumphant. We no longer have to hide it.
He could claim both his male and his female publicly. Every being would know they were his, his to protect, his to love.
Some of them also believe we’re our female’s security detail. Ace pointed out.
But—
Let them guess whatever they wish. As long as we don’t confirm or deny those guesses, we won’t put our female in danger. Ace clung to the tactic that had kept them alive in the past.
Frag. He was a stubborn warrior.
Their Carys, oblivious to the rumors swirling around them, placed one of her palms on a control panel. Doors opened. She strode onto the bridge.
A curvy human female jumped out of the captain’s chair. “Commander.” The female glanced at Ace and Thrasher.
She didn’t have as many solar cycles as their female. Her blonde hair was devoid of silver strands and no lines feathered the skin around her eyes.
The female lacked their commander’s experience. Thrasher silently dismissed her. She wasn’t yet worthy of the helm.
The young female didn’t dismiss them. She stared at them, her forehead furrowed with thought lines.
“I’m relieving you of duty, First.” Their commander informed the female. “Enjoy the Five Moon party.”
The female hesitated, looking pointedly at the empty chairs on the bridge. Thrasher had monitored the bridge from the chambers.
He understood her unspoken concern. The staffing was much lighter than usual.
He also appreciated the respect she showed to their female. The first officer was unwilling to question their Commander in front of the other officers.
“Ace and Thrasher are our special guests.” Their Commander nodded at them.
Thrasher fixed a solemn expression on his face, trying to look as dignified and as special as possible, and he nodded back. Ace did the same.
“They joined us several planet rotations ago.” Their Commander explained. “And are knowledgeable of all officer roles aboard the battle station. I’m taking advantage of their experience to give you a much-deserved break.”
“I consider my shifts on the bridge to be a privilege, Commander.” The first officer was amusingly keen.
“Consider this to be part of your training, First.” Their Commander’s stern tone was belied by the humor in her eyes. “This might be your last opportunity to interact in a social setting, officer to officer. Once you’re made captain of your own vessel, your relationship with the other crew will change.”
“I understand, Commander.”
The light in the first officer’s eyes flared at the mention of a vessel of her own. “I won’t fail you in this task.”
“It’s a party, not a task.” Their Commander shook her head. “And I know you won’t.”
“Thank you, Commander.” The first officer gawked at Thrasher and Ace as she walked by them. Thrasher smiled at her. Ace made no attempt to look non-threatening.
“Select a control panel.” Their Commander sat in the captain’s chair. “I need extra coverage on communications and navigation.”
“We select these.” They stood behind the darkened control panels on each side of her seat, preferring to be as close as possible to their female.
“Those no longer work and the chairs have been removed.”
“Chairs aren’t necessary,” Ace informed her. Cyborgs were considered machines by the Humanoid Alliance. Machines didn’t require chairs. “And I’ll repair the control panels.”
“While Ace is repairing the control panels, I’ll cover both positions.” Thrasher moved to the closest seat.
Hurry, ass, he transmitted. He was positioned too far away from her for his comfort.
“There’s no need to repair the control panels.” Their Commander shook her head. “There are plenty of open chairs.”
There was a need because Thrasher hoped this would be the first of many shifts on the bridge. She would see how valuable their assistance was and would keep them with her at all times.
“You deserve a fully functional battle station.” Ace crawled under the console.
She needs us. Thrasher placed his hands on the functional control panel, linking with all of the systems, not merely communications and navigation.
She does. Ace broadcast the mess of wires he viewed, more proof they could add value to their female.
Ace repaired the control panels. Thrasher monitored everything inside and outside the battle station. Their Commander dealt with administrative tasks, listened to updates from her officers. She introduced them to each curious crewmember, conveying no more information than she’d told her first officer.
She didn’t mention they were cyborgs and she didn’t convey that they were her males. Thrasher and Ace rectified that last oversight by growling at any possible rival who ventured too close to their Commander, warning him away from her.
