by Cynthia Sax
“You’ll try.” He wasn’t concerned. Thanks to her species, he had extensive knowledge of how to restrain beings. The Humanoid Alliance had held him captive for many human lifespans.
“Don’t concern yourself, Crash’s female.” Gap, that young fool, strutted behind them, his footsteps heavy for a cyborg. “I’ll take our ship and save my Nymphia.”
“Bring me with you.” Safyre levered herself upward. She must have realized how close her dainty skull was to the ceiling because she immediately lowered herself once more. “I can assist you.”
Fraggin’ hole. She was stubborn. “He isn’t saving Nymphia and you’re not assisting him.” The situation on Tau Ceti was too dangerous for both of them.
“I don’t require your assistance, Crash’s female,” Gap declared. “I’m a G model cyborg, capable of undertaking a rescue mission solo.”
“Tau Ceti is a Humanoid Alliance-controlled planet, Gap.” Crash pointed out the obvious flaw in his friend’s plan. “If they catch you, the humans will realize you’re operating on your own. You’ll jeopardize all of us.”
“Unless you had me with you,” Safyre injected. “I could say I’m controlling you.”
“They’ll then interrogate you, inflicting more pain upon you than you’ve ever known.” The thought of the humans damaging his female twisted Crash’s stomach. “You’re a human, unable to tolerate that agony. You’ll talk, telling them about us.”
“Yes, it’s better that I undertake this mission solo.”
Was Gap not listening? “The humans are monitoring the entire planet.”
“Crash is right.” Finally his female agreed with him. “That’s why I need the freighter. It has clearance to land on the planet. Any other ship would be blasted out of the sky.”
Crash carried her onto the bridge, the doors opening and closing around them. “We’re not landing this freighter on Tau Ceti,” he preemptively addressed the next illogical suggestion. “We won’t risk the freedom of a thousand cyborgs to save one human female.”
“If it were your human female--”
“My decision would be the same.” Crash might risk his own freedom but not the freedom of his brethren. “We’re not landing on the planet.”
“We might not have a choice if we don’t find all of the tracking devices.” Death, previously hidden under the console, straightened. The captain’s severed hand was tucked in one of his holsters. “We’ve found three thus far.” He held up one of the tiny devices. “Two more to go.”
“Four more,” Safyre murmured.
“There were only five tracking devices on the last ship we liberated.” Crash set her down on a chair.
“Was that ship carrying a thousand cyborgs and entering a war zone?” she asked. He opened his mouth. “No, it wasn’t.” She didn’t wait for his response. “The Humanoid Alliance added two more tracking devices to this freighter.”
Humans, unlike cyborgs, had the ability to lie but she had no reason to bend the truth. “Look for seven tracking devices.”
Death nodded. “I gave all of us.” His gaze slid to Safyre. “All of the cyborgs,” he amended. “The same access as the captain.”
“Then I’ll take the bridge.” Flying was one of his strengths. Crash sat in front of the main viewscreen, his back to his female. She was restrained and he’d hear her if she moved. “Once we find the tracking devices, we’ll reroute to the Homeland.”
“That’s not a good plan,” she contributed once more.
“All of my plans are good.” He excelled at crafting them.
“Not this one.” His blasted female wasn’t backing down.
“While you discuss the next steps with your tiny human female, I’ll find the tracking devices.” Amusement lightened Death’s voice. The doors behind Crash slid open and shut.
He gritted his teeth. Every cyborg on board would know that he couldn’t control his female. Again.
“You’re undermining my authority, female.” He couldn’t allow that.
“I’m trying to save your arrogant ass.” She wouldn’t be cautioned. “I’m guessing you chose to intercept the freighter here because ships are monitored less in open space, right?”
“And because ships go missing all the time here.” The Humanoid Alliance was unlikely to investigate their disappearances.
“If freighters containing cyborgs always go missing here, the Humanoid Alliance will add ships to escort them. That will make intercepting them much more difficult,” his female argued. “In two planet rotations, the freighter will enter the Tau Cetian sector. If it goes missing there, the Humanoid Alliance will blame their local forces for not protecting it.”
“They won’t add escorts for the open space section of the journey.” He gazed up at the main viewscreen. Distant stars added color to the expanse of blackness. The female’s motivation was questionable but her logic was sound. “The freighter won’t land on the planet.”
“We’ll see,” she said under her breath.
He didn’t acknowledge her reply. Instead, he scanned the surrounding space for possible threats, evaluated where in the Tau Cetian sector to divert from the Humanoid Alliance-approved course and built simulations of an explosion to transmit once they reached that point.
As he worked, he listened to Safyre’s conversation with Gap. They nattered back and forth. His always curious friend snooped through her pack.
“That’s not yours.” Her voice rose. “Leave my personal viewscreen alone.”
“Give me the scarf and I’ll leave it alone.”
“I’m not giving you the scarf. It’s mine.”
Crash heard heavy breathing. “If you touch my female, I’ll up my kill rate,” he warned.
“I’m not your female,” she protested.
“I’m not touching her,” Gap joined in. “I can smell my Nymphia’s scarf from here.”
“What are you doing?” Safyre’s attention returned to the handling of her things. “Put that viewscreen away. I mean it.” Her voice rose. “You don’t want me to lose my shit. That’s not pretty, believe me.”
Crash suspected it was very pretty. He enjoyed how her anger made her cheeks flush and her eyes flash.
“Do you have images of my Nymphia on it?” Gap ignored her.
“I’m not accessing them for you.”
That must be a yes.
“I’m a cyborg. There’s no need for your assistance. I can access anything I wish.”
Crash shook his head. The two of them were alike in many ways, both of them stubborn and reckless. He’d have to keep his gaze on his female. She had decided to escape and it would be challenging to dissuade her.
“Those are my private files. I didn’t authorize you to view them.” Safyre continued to fight the invasion of her privacy.
Privacy was an unknown concept for cyborgs. They trained, fought, slept, spent every planet rotation together.
“Share the files with me also,” Crash instructed, saying the words out loud so his female would hear them. He could deal with her anger but he wanted her to trust him.
“That’s confidential information,” she yelled. “Don’t look at it.”
It’s heavily encrypted, Gap transmitted.
Break it. Why were her files heavily encrypted? What was his little human up to?
Gap broadcasted the feed to Crash, the images scrolling too fast for any human to process. What Crash discovered made him even more determined to keep her captive. She accepted dangerous missions, transporting beings and objects to and from war zones, intentionally provoking the Humanoid Alliance.
“You take too many risks with your lifespan, female.” He turned his chair and glowered at her.
She wouldn’t be intimidated. “It’s my lifespan. It’s none of your concern what I do with it.”
It was his concern. She was his female. “If the Humanoid Alliance had uncovered that you worked for Beings For Peace, they would have tortured and killed you.”
Her face paled. “Those
files were encrypted.”
“We’re cyborgs.” Being half machine, they had unmatched technological skills. They also shared knowledge through their transmission lines. Once one cyborg figured out a hack, all of the cyborgs had that skill.
Safyre swallowed once, twice. “You can’t tell anyone about the Beings For Peace. If you do, our operatives, the innocent beings they assist, my friends…” The last two words were whispered. “Will be killed.”
Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She was sincerely concerned for her fellow rebels.
Crash valued loyalty. He liked that his female had that trait. “The Humanoid Alliance is our enemy also,” he used her earlier words. “Cyborgs and their females will know about Beings For Peace. We won’t communicate that information to any other being.”
“I have to trust you, don’t I? I have no choice.” Safyre frowned, clearly unhappy with that realization. “You know my secrets.” She tilted her head. Crash could see her mind whirling. “But I also know yours. I can’t betray you, not without exposing the beings I care about. There’s little risk in letting me go.”
Frag. He gazed at her with respect. She was tenacious. “The Humanoid Alliance will extract the information out of you. They’re experts at torture.” The pain he’d endured at their hands had been horrific.
“If I’m caught, Gap will kill me.” She glanced at his friend.
“I will,” Gap agreed as though killing her was of no consequence.
Crash pressed his lips together, suppressing his irritation, as he gazed at his little human. “No being is killing you.” He wouldn’t allow that.
She scowled at him.
“Who is this female?” Gap’s attention had wandered. “Is this my Nymphia?”
The cyborg leaned toward Safyre. Crash opened his mouth, ready to yell at him, to warn him to stay away from his female. But he stopped himself.
Gap wasn’t interested in Safyre. His gaze was fixed on the image of a young black-haired, brown-eyed, dark-skinned female filling the small viewscreen.
Safyre’s face softened. “Yeah, that’s Nymphia.” There was a world of caring in those words.
Crash wanted her to speak of him that way.
She wouldn’t, not yet. His female didn’t feel the connection he did.
“She’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen.” Gap studied the image, alarmingly besotted. “And she’s mine. I’d kill for her.”
“She’s not yours.” And she wasn’t the most beautiful being Crash had ever seen. She lacked Safyre’s orange hair, her pale skin, her adorable freckles. “No one is killing anyone.”
“The J models killed the human crew,” Gap pointed out.
“Other than those kills.” Crash gritted his teeth, his temper strained. “Once we reach the Tau Cetian sector, we’ll change course and return to the Homeland.”
His female smiled, looking too fraggin’ pleased for his comfort.
“You’ll return to the Homeland,” Gap mumbled. “I’m saving my female.”
“I’m saving my friend,” Safyre added, lifting her chin.
Crash couldn’t argue with multiple beings at the same time and he wanted his female to himself. The memory of her kissing his friend remained in his databases.
He stood. “Gap, ensure that the bodies are discarded and the ship is cleaned.” They’d be living on the freighter for planet rotations.
“I’d do that faster if I had my female’s scarf.”
“There’s not a chance of that happening.” Safyre glared at the kid. “It’s mine.”
“Then I’m taking this.” Gap carried the private viewscreen with him as he left.
Safyre’s lips pulled downward. “That’s mine also.”
“He won’t damage it.” Crash lifted her, slid into her seat and set her sideways on his lap, so he could see her face. Her eyes glittered with rebellion. He wrapped his arms around her waist, securing her to him. “He’s a young cyborg, my Safyre. He’s rash and reckless and, above all, he seeks love.”
“I don’t care.”
Crash didn’t believe that. He’d seen the risks she’d taken to free others, strangers she’d never met.
“He was manufactured in a vat, raised without a mother or father, with only his cyborg brethren for company.” Crash drew upon his own experience. He assumed Gap’s past had been similar. “Some of those brethren died in training.”
The rest of them had been tested. The human trainers would spread broken containers over the fighting ring and force them to battle in bare feet, laughing as the shards sliced into their soles. One trainer thought it was amusing to break their cocks. Another male had heated blades and burned his name into their chests. All of the humans had treated the cyborgs with cruelty.
He wouldn’t soil his female with those ugly memories. “Gap’s education was brutal and harsh.” As his had been. “He barely survived it.”
Safyre’s squirming stopped.
“Then he was sent to a battle station. More of his brethren died fighting. He was tortured by his human handlers, violated in all of the ways a being can be violated, forced to kill.” Crash focused on her scent, on her breathing, using his more blissful present to help him relay his less savory past. “Finding a female of his own was all he talked about, the only thing that gave him a reason to live. He might look and act like a tough warrior but he’s vulnerable. Don’t use this dream of his against him.”
She didn’t say anything. Silence stretched between them.
“He’s no longer a child.” Her voice was soft. “He knows the risks he’s taking.”
Crash blew out his breath, disappointed with her response. He’d shown her a piece of his soul and she’d felt nothing. “You don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t understand.” She leaned toward him. “That was what a friend told me when we discussed Nymphia. She’s no longer a child. She knew the risks she was taking.”
“Yet you want to save her.”
“I have to reach her,” Safyre emphasized. “Nymphia is vulnerable also. She was young when she lost her parents. After she arrived at the Academy, we sheltered her as best as we could in our little group. But before that, there was a length of time when she had no one. I was alone.”
I was alone. Crash noted that slip but didn’t comment on it.
“I promised her she’d never be scared and alone again. Now, she’s in some damn dank tunnel on Tau Ceti, cut off from others, battles waging around her.”
Safyre was a being of honor. Crash pressed his lips against her temple. She sought to uphold her vow to her friend.
“I can’t walk away from her, Crash.” The pleading in her voice almost broke him. “Let me go. Give me access to your ship. Your friend Gap doesn’t have to be involved.”
If he let her go, she’d act even more recklessly than she was now, trying to rescue her friend. “You said yourself that no unauthorized ship can land on the surface.”
“I’ll find another way.”
She would. The information on her personal viewscreen verified how resourceful she was but the fighting was too fierce for a human. She didn’t have his speed or strength or self-healing ability.
She’d die and he couldn’t allow that. “Leave her rescue to another being.”
She turned her head and gazed up at him, hope lighting her eyes. “Your friend, Gap?”
“No, not Gap.” The cyborg would have the same challenges landing on Tau Ceti. He also wasn’t using his processors at the moment.
“There’s no one else.” Her shoulders slumped.
There were thousands of other beings. Tau Ceti was the site of a cyborg manufacturing plant. The cyborgs were trapped inside the compound during the war and would be restless. They were young and inexperienced but they should be skilled enough to rescue one small human female. Once the freighter was close enough to the planet for communications, he’d give them the order.
“You’re no longer alone, female.” He didn’t tell her more, not
wanting to make promises he might not be able to keep. Her friend could be dead. The cyborgs could fail. There were too many variables.
Lines formed between her eyebrows. “You have a plan.”
“I have a plan.”
She waited. He said nothing more. “Tell me about it.”
“Not yet.”
“Why would I trust you if you don’t trust me?” Her eyes flashed with emotion.
“You won’t trust me even if I told you.” His female didn’t trust any being except herself. “If it is at all possible for your friend to be rescued, she will be rescued.”
She might not be transported off the planet. The cyborgs would have to store her someplace safe until the fighting stopped. But she would be rescued.
“If she dies alone, I’ll never forgive you.”
Crash realized that. However, he’d never forgive himself if his female died. “That’s the risk I’m willing to take.”
“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” Safyre wiggled. “I’ll try to escape.”
“You’ll try and I’ll stop you.” He’d prevent her from leaving the freighter.
She stared at him. He stared back, holding her gaze.
“You’re an arrogant ass,” she concluded.
He liked that she used human insults on him, that she saw him as a male first, a warrior second, a cyborg a distant third. “A female once told me my eyes were soulful.” Did she feel the same way?
Safyre snorted. “She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.”
The hope inside Crash faded. Joan had lied. He’d suspected that. Rage’s female was kind. She had told him what he had wanted to hear, wishing to make him feel better.
The truth was no being would ever find his eyes attractive.
“Soulful is a word used to describe academics, poets, and other soft-skinned beings who have never lived in the real universe,” Safyre continued. “You were designed to be a warrior and your eyes are two of your greatest weapons. They’re beautiful, hypnotic, sucking beings in, captivating them. A female could gaze into your black eyes and forget her purpose.”
She thought his eyes were beautiful. Crash stared at her.
