by Cynthia Sax
The rest of his face was not. Skin and flesh hung from his jaws, revealing his silver skull frame. Shards of metal were embedded in his forehead, cheeks, chin. Half of his brown hair was gone, torn away from his scalp.
His chest and legs weren’t in much better shape. They were an ugly mess of torn flesh and gushing blood. His hips and groin, that more human, vulnerable part of him, were bruised but had somehow escaped more severe injury. Her male must have folded his naked body slightly to protect himself.
“I need pain inhibitors,” she yelled.
“He’s already pumped full of them.” Ace shifted out of the shadows, his expression rueful. Her logical warrior had some gashes, some cuts, but was otherwise intact, looking like the male she knew and loved. He was wearing his body armor. “The escape pod had a medical pack in it.”
“I look bad, don’t I?” Thrasher chuckled. Ace was right. He was feeling no pain. “I can see that in your eyes, our female.”
“You look…” Her voice broke, her relief overwhelming her. He looked grotesque but alive, so gloriously alive. She sniffled.
Thrasher’s smile dimmed. “Don’t damage yourself, Commander. My nanocybotics will repair my face. It might take a few planet rotations but--”
“I don’t care about your face.” Carys climbed into the escape pod, needing to touch him, to hold him, to assure herself this wasn’t a grief-induced dream. “I care about you.”
Ace grabbed her waist and lowered her slowly, sliding her body along his, his warmth surrounding her, his solidness, his muscle giving her strength. She savored the connection for one, two heartbeats.
Then she hustled to Thrasher’s side, crouched beside the injured male. “You’re hurt but alive.” She carefully touched his cheek, the metal smooth and warm under her fingertips. “I thought you were dead.” She cupped Ace’s cheek also. “Both of you.”
“You grieved for us.” Ace swiped one of his thumbs over a tear track on her face.
“Of course, I grieved for you.” She scowled at him. That comment was ridiculous. “I love you.”
“You love us.” Thrasher’s grin returned.
Ace granted her one of his small smiles.
“Our female loves us.” Her injured cyborg gazed at her dreamily, his eyes soft, his face the object of nightmares. “See.” His gaze slid to Ace. “She’s not angry with us, ass.”
“I didn’t say that.” She frowned at him. “Where’s your body armor, you foolish male?” She smoothed a flap of skin over his chest, her fingers trembling. “It is there to protect you.”
“Had to discard it. Was too heavy.” He lifted his bloody fingers, looked at their grisly state and dropped them by his side. “That tactic worked. We made it to the escape pod in time, didn’t we, ass?”
“Barely.” Ace’s grim expression told Carys how close it had been.
“Ass loves me too.” Thrasher’s smile was smug. “He said it. I’ll replay it for you later.”
Shit. The situation must have been really bad if Ace had said that.
“What can we do for him?” Carys murmured, nodding at their injured male.
“I can hear you.” Thrasher sang. “I’m a cyborg, you know.”
“We know,” she told him dryly.
If he hadn’t been a cyborg, he would have died. She truly would have lost him.
“He can’t walk,” Ace shared. “I popped both of his legs back in, but it will take a planet rotation or more before he regains full functionality of them.”
He popped them back in. A wave of queasiness swept over Carys.
“The Humanoid Alliance would deem me defective. They’d decommission me.” Thrasher’s happy tone contrasted vividly with his appalling words. “Slice me into pieces. Harvest me for parts.”
“We’re not doing that.” She didn’t want to think about what might have happened to him. “You’re not defective.” She kissed his brow. “You’re perfect.”
A thin layer of skin was forming over his metal frame.
“Would a medic help with his healing?” she asked Ace.
One had arrived. The medic hovered near the escape pod, her pack in her hands.
“A medic isn’t required.” Ace dismissed that idea. “We’re designed to self-repair. All he needs is time.”
“We could move him to our chambers.” He might be more comfortable there. “I could ask some of the crew to carry him.”
“No.” Ace’s reply was sharp. “I’ll carry him.”
“He doesn’t want any other being touching me,” Thrasher explained. “He loves me.”
“Stop saying that.” Ace glared at him.
“It’s the truth.” The pain inhibitors made her injured warrior even more reckless than he usually was. “I can replay it if--”
“There will be no replaying of anything.” Carys stopped that foolishness. “Space Traffic.”
“Yes, Commander.” The officer’s expression was as horrified as his crew’s.
“Nothing else is required.” She wanted privacy with her two males. “You and your crew can return to your duties.”
“Yes, Commander.” He promptly departed, as though he’d been waiting for that order.
She gazed at her injured cyborg. Thrasher’s face wasn’t for the weak of stomach.
Her warrior, her male must have realized others were repelled by his appearance. “I’ve been damaged worse than this. Once in training, Ace and I were--”
“You can tell me about that later.” Carys stopped him. She could barely handle his current level of injury. She didn’t want to hear about more severe past injuries.
“Oh.” Thrasher blinked, several times, slowly. “Do you wish to tell us stories of our Pimmy now?”
Stories of our Pimmy. They had claimed her departed daughter as their own.
“You’ll have plenty of time to hear all of the stories.” Carys’ voice was gruff. “You’ll be confined to our chambers for twenty planet rotations.” She glanced at Ace. “You’re equally responsible for this disaster and will be confined also.”
“He’ll be fully healed in twenty planet rotations.” Ace understood the reason for the reprimand, didn’t protest his sentence.
“I’ll be fully healed in three planet rotations,” Thrasher boasted.
“I’m counting on that.” Carys settled on the floor beside her injured male.
Her warrior rested his bloody head on her chest and released a heart-tugging sigh of contentment, as though simply having that physical connection with her had eased some of his pain.
Stars. How she loved him. Carys gingerly wrapped her arms around what was left of his shoulders.
Ace stood to the side, gazing at them wistfully.
She wouldn’t make her quiet warrior ask for what he clearly wanted. “Come here.” She extended her right hand to him.
Ace claimed the space on the other side of her, snuggling into her curves. She lay between her two warriors. They were alive, in her arms, had their heads on her chest. The weight was comforting. They were real, not a figment of her grief.
She reveled in her good fortune, in their warmth, in their love. Silence stretched.
“I love your breasts.” Thrasher’s observation came out of open space.
Carys’ body shook as she tried to contain her laughter. “Do all cyborgs have this reaction to pain inhibitors?”
“Only our genius reacts this way.” Humor lightened Ace’s voice. “It’s good we have some privacy. No one would ever take him seriously after listening to him.”
“I love privacy.” That was Thrasher’s next contribution.
Carys and Ace laughed.
Chapter Eighteen
Eleven planet rotations later, Ace and Thrasher watched as their female paced, moving from one side of their chambers to the other.
Their Thrasher was now fully repaired. And he was theirs. The near-death experience on board the enemy battle station had forced Ace to accept that.
The being he was currently concerned a
bout was their Carys. “Commander.”
“I’m not the commander.” She stopped. “Not anymore.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, spiking the short strands. As she had predicted, the Rebels had relieved her of that position.
Officially.
Unofficially, the crew and the former first officer, the new commander, still viewed her as their leader, crediting her for winning the battle and helping to end the war. Members of the Humanoid Alliance were fleeing to the outer edges of the universe, trying to avoid capture.
“You could be the commander of the Retriever battle station.” Thrasher pointed out.
Mayhem’s female had offered her the position. The Retrievers might be extremely skilled at hunting down beings but their talents didn’t extend to managing a crew or operating a battle station. The females weren’t as fierce as their Carys.
“Or I could be the captain of a cyborg warship.” Their female presented that alternative.
Ace looked at Thrasher. Thrasher looked back at him.
She’s considering that position for us, ass. Thrasher transmitted what he had been processing. She believes it will make us happy.
It wouldn’t, not when the price of that happiness was their female’s pride. She had fought for the responsibility of leading a battle station. They would ensure she kept it. “You’re a commander, not a captain.”
“Cyborgs have warriors vying to fill the captain position. The Retrievers need you.” Thrasher appealed to her emotions.
“They need us,” their Carys corrected. “According to Imee, all of the Retrievers are like your friend Mayhem. They don’t welcome authority.”
“It would take a strong commander to lead them.”
Ace heard the dare in Thrasher’s voice.
Their Carys must have heard it also. Her eyes narrowed.
“Your space traffic officer and your communications officer, along with many other crew members, have declared that they will follow you to your new position.” Ace switched tactics. The crew’s loyalty was to their commander, not to the Rebel forces. “If you accept the captain position, they will be reporting indirectly to the cyborg council.”
If they were allowed on the warship at all. The cyborg council had assumed she’d be the only non-cyborg on board.
“That would be unfair of me.” Their Carys’ head dipped. “I’d also be forcing them to take a demotion.”
She considers the captain position to be a demotion, Thrasher transmitted.
Ace had suspected that. She believes we’d be more comfortable amongst our brethren.
That might have been true if they were two normal cyborgs. But they weren’t normal. Many would consider them to be defective.
Ace gazed at their female, his big cyborg chest swelling with love. She didn’t view them that way. In her eyes, they were worthy.
“We should apply logic to this decision.” Their female looked to him, expecting agreement. That was understandable. He was normally the more rational warrior. “Aligning with the cyborg council is the wisest path. They’re the largest faction, are highly organized, have concrete plans for the future.”
“If we applied logic to this decision, then yes, the cyborg council would be the best faction to align with.” Ace was forced to agree. “The Retrievers have no fixed leadership structure. You would command their sole battle station. They are rebellious, will fight you on every ruling you make.”
Their female nodded, her lips drooping. She was as unhappy with that possible resolution as they were, but for very different reasons.
“However.” Ace had to say this, had to open and honest about his feelings. This affected the future of the beings he loved. “I can’t utilize logic to make this decision.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “You apply logic to every scenario.”
“I can’t apply logic to this one.”
She was willing to relinquish control of a battle station to ensure they were happy. Ace inhaled deeply, sucking her scent into his body. He held it inside him for three heartbeats and released it.
He could talk about his fears, risk being viewed as weak and unworthy. His gaze slid to Thrasher, returned to their Carys. He trusted his male, his female to love him, to accept this defect in him.
“The cyborg council would assign your crew.” Ace knew this. It was the cyborg council’s way. “They would choose the warriors you commanded. The warriors’ first loyalty would be to the council, to their brethren.”
“The Retrievers would do the same thing.” Their Carys didn’t understand his concerns. “Their first loyalty would be to their sisters. We’d have to earn their respect.” Her chin lifted. “I’ve done that in the past. I can do it again.”
“In the past, you didn’t have us.” Ace grasped their hands, physically linking them, needing that connection. “The Retrievers would accept us.” Mayhem, knowing it was a possible concern, had shared that some of the females had formed similar bonds. “The cyborgs…”
Ace didn’t know if the cyborg council would accept their relationship. He didn’t want to test their tolerance and fail, couldn’t bear to have anything happen to the beings he loved more than life.
“The other cyborgs might not accept our relationship.” Their Carys gripped his hand tighter as though she worried she might lose him immediately.
“I hid my bond with Thrasher for most of our lifespan and it tore my heart out.” Ace’s gaze locked with his female’s. “Don’t ask me to hide the bond between the three of us.”
He was begging, had discarded his pride. All that mattered to him was the male, the female he loved, their relationship, their well-being.
“I didn’t know it tore your heart out,” Thrasher murmured.
Why would I tell you that? You were suffering as well and knowing that would have increased your pain. Ace cared for him too much to do that.
“I would never ask you to hide our bond.” Their Carys leaned forward and skimmed her lips over his. Ace stared at her, enthralled by the caress. “I’ll protect our relationship.” She turned her head and kissed Thrasher as gently, treating them as though they were treasures, objects to be cherished. “If beings don’t accept us, I won’t allow them on our battle station.”
She said battle station. Thrasher noticed that slip also.
“Yes, Commander.” The tension inside Ace dissipated. She’d take the commander role. They’d be surrounded with beings loyal to her and accepting of them. He wouldn’t have to guard his feelings, wouldn’t have to safeguard his female, his male from his brethren.
“You are strong. You are intelligent. You are loved.” Their Carys’ brown eyes glowed. “I’d say that to Pimmy every sunset. I say that to you now.” Her gaze shifted to Thrasher. “To both of you.”
“We’re honored, our female.” Ace realized how special that memory was to their female.
“I’m honored. It took courage to make that request.” Only his female would view his defects as strengths. “That deserves a reward.” She pulled at his chest armor, baring his skin. “From your female and your male.”
Their Carys took Thrasher’s hand and placed it on Ace’s chest. Ace’s heart pounded and his cock hardened. His male and his female were touching him.
They stripped off his body armor piece by piece, kissing and nuzzling every patch of exposed skin. Lips nipped at his pecs. Tongues flicked over his biceps. Noses brushed along his abs. They moved lower, exploring his form. Wave after wave of sensory input swept over him.
Ace folded his fingers into fists and stared down at the beings who held his soul. Their Carys stroked his left hip, her fingertips drifting intriguingly close to his rigid shaft. Thrasher mouthed along his side, his lips firm and hot, teasing, taunting him.
“On your knees, Thrasher.” Their Carys pushed on the warrior’s shoulders.
Thrasher was a cyborg. She was a human and didn’t have the strength to move him, yet the male dropped to his knees, the submissiveness of his stance excitin
g Ace. His male’s mouth was a breath away from Ace’s tip.
Pre-cum beaded on the end of his cock.
Their Carys smiled knowingly. “Wrap your fingers around his shaft.”
Thrasher hesitated. Ass?
Obey our Commander, genius. Ace wanted this, needed this. And their female had given them permission to touch, had ordered it.
Thrasher grinned and complied. Ace jerked at the contact, taboo yet right, different than their Carys’ grasp, rougher, more intense yet perfect in its own way.
“That’s sexy.” Their Carys shifted behind Thrasher. “I love the sight of your hands on his cock. It makes me wet.”
Both of them breathed deeply. Their female hadn’t lied. Ace smelled her arousal.
She reached around Thrasher’s body, unfastened his flight suit, pulled the garment over his shoulders, down, down, down, revealing his muscular physique, his golden skin.
Ace’s gaze followed the path of her pale hands. His cock bobbed with appreciation.
She dragged her lips up Thrasher’s neck. “Pump him, warrior,” their Carys whispered into the warrior’s ear. She closed her white teeth over his earlobe, tugged on his flesh, as she claimed Thrasher’s shaft with her fingers.
Thrasher rumbled his approval and pumped Ace slowly, running his palms up and down his cock. Ace didn’t know what to do, what to say. Was it wrong to want this, to enjoy it?
“Is that all you have, warrior?” Their Carys filled the awkward silence with a gibe, mocking Thrasher. “I can jack him off harder than you are and I’m a human.”
She demonstrated her prowess, working Thrasher’s cock hard, making the male groan.
“I don’t want to damage him.” He gripped Ace tighter, stroked him faster. “Ass is delicate.”
“Frag you.” Ace widened his stance. “I can take anything you give me.”
He pushed his hips forward, offering him all of him.
“You won’t last long.” Thrasher swept his thumb over Ace’s tip, spread his pre-cum along his shaft. “You can’t handle everything I give you.” The warrior worked him hard.
Their Carys tried to keep pace, but she was human. Thrasher was cyborg, faster, stronger. She wouldn’t win the competition.
