by Cynthia Sax
Silence stretched.
“You could have avoided it,” she realized. “You didn’t because you were protecting me.” She’d caused this. He was absorbing pain meant for her.
“I’ll always protect you.”
“Here are the pain inhibitors to spray on Crash’s boo-boos.” Gap handed her an injector gun. “He’s getting soft.” He grinned.
“I’m not the cyborg missing a dagger.” Crash’s tone was dry.
Safyre found none of their jokes humorous. Her male was injured.
“Stay still.” She pressed the injector gun’s nuzzle against the edge of the dagger and tapped the trigger. Pain inhibitor sprayed around the blade.
Crash stiffened. She waited for one, two, three heartbeats. His muscles relaxed. “My pain has receded.” He slurred his words.
She studied the dagger. It was buried deep in his neck. She doubted she had the strength to remove it.
“Gap, pull the dagger out.” She reluctantly gave that responsibility to the young cyborg. “Carefully.”
“Don’t be concerned, my Safyre.” Crash gripped the console, bracing himself. “I’ve suffered greater wounds than this.”
“I’m not speaking to you right now.” She didn’t want to hear about those greater wounds. The injury he was enduring at the moment was tying her stomach into knots. “Remove it at the same angle it entered.” That would minimize the damage.
“I know how to remove a dagger.” Gap folded his fingers around the hilt and yanked.
Blood spurted from the wound. Crash shuddered and the floor tilted beneath her feet. Her damn cyborg was in pain. She sprayed the wound again and again, coating everything she could reach, including much of his body armor.
“That’s enough, female.” Crash wrenched the injector gun from her fingers. “I can’t feel anything from my head to my ass.”
She plucked at his body armor. “Take this off.”
Crash reached for it.
“Not you.” She slapped his hands. “You’re injured. Gap will do it.”
The younger cyborg removed Crash’s body armor, muttering words she couldn’t hear. Crimson coated her warrior’s spine, the blood having dripped along that dip. She skimmed the cleaning cloth over his gray skin, snapping the fabric to renew it.
The medical tape was unnecessary. The wound had already closed, a line of paler skin denoting its location. “You’re healed.” She pressed her lips to him, relieved.
“I’m a—”
“Don’t say it,” she stopped him. “I don’t want to hear you’re a cyborg. You—”
“The Humanoid Alliance Base, Tau Ceti location, requests hailing frequencies be opened, Captain Safyre,” the freighter’s system chirped.
She returned to her chair. “Open hailing frequencies.”
“This is Communications Officer Weston. Where are your visuals, Captain Safyre?”
“Visuals were damaged during the landing, Communications Officer Weston.” Would he accept that excuse?
There was a long pause. “Understood, Captain Safyre. Wait to be connected.”
Her gut told her the Communications Officer hadn’t been fooled. We might have to move. Quickly, she transmitted to Crash.
Cyborgs have been notified, he replied.
“This is Commander Alakai. Where are you, Captain Safyre?”
He didn’t ask about the visuals. Thank the stars. “I was unable to land at the docking facilities, Commander Alakai.” She tapped her fingertips against the controls. “The fighting was too fierce. I’m sending you my new coordinates. You’ll take delivery here.”
“You were to deliver the units to the docking facilities.” He sounded pissed off.
“Those docking facilities are under attack.” Plans shift, especially in the midst of a war. A change of delivery site wasn’t unusual. “This location is secure. Send authorized personnel to take delivery of the units.”
“Are they all intact?”
“None of the holding chambers have been damaged.” Safyre glanced at Crash. He was donning his body armor once more. “If Central packed them properly, the units should be ready to be deployed.”
“We do need warriors in that district,” the Commander grumbled, as though he had a choice about where he took delivery. The freighter had landed. Even under normal circumstances, if there were such a thing, she wouldn’t move it. “Personnel will be sent. By ground. Rebels have been shooting down ships in your location.”
No shit. Safyre’s lips twisted.
“If your situation changes, notify us,” he told her. “We’ll hail you at regular durations to verify.”
Fuck. She couldn’t leave the freighter. “Understood, Commander. I’ll await the arrival of your personnel.” She ended the transmission, leaned forward and rested her forehead on the console. The surface was cool.
“You have to stay in the freighter.” Crash rubbed her back, the contact soothing.
“Yeah.” Reaching Nymphia was no longer her sole focus. She had hundreds of warriors, one hunky male in particular, to consider.
“I’ll remain here with you,” that male offered.
Safyre desperately wanted him to stay with her, now and always, but she had to put others’ needs before hers. That would put Gap in charge of Nymphia’s rescue, she transmitted through their private line, not wishing the young cyborg to hear their discussion. Is he able to lead the mission by himself?
Crash hesitated, that pause telling. No. He was brutally honest. Gap is impulsive normally and he’s overly emotional about your friend. He won’t make rational decisions.
Damn it. Safyre pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew what she had to do
Then you have to go with him. She stood.
I have to protect you. Crash clasped both of her hands. You’re my priority, my Safyre.
She was his priority. He put her first, before his brethren, before his friend. Safyre’s chest warmed. No one had ever done that.
Hundreds of cyborgs are protecting me. I won’t leave the freighter. She couldn’t leave. The Commander could hail her at any time. Gap is your friend. Nymphia is mine. They can’t do this on their own.
Crash’s black eyes glowed with respect. You’re an honorable being.
You are also. And she loved that about him. Fuck. She loved the arrogant ass. Her lips pressed together. That irritated the shit out of her, because Crash could die and she wouldn’t survive his death. She knew that. Don’t get yourself killed. Emotion choked her voice.
Crash hugged her close to his big body. I’m difficult to kill, he repeated the words he’d told her planet rotations ago.
He was a cyborg. Safyre closed her eyes, memorizing his grip, scent, heat. A dagger in the neck would have killed a human male. Crash had suffered no lasting damage. This wasn’t his first mission either. He’d fought fiercer enemies. Let the other warriors do the killing. There’s no need for you to end lives. He could keep his vow.
Crash didn’t say anything.
Crash?
Contact me if you’re in danger. He brusquely changed the subject, pulling away from her. Our transmission line will be open.
She’d have that connection to him. Not wanting to distract him, she wouldn’t use it but she’d know it was there. Neither of them would alone. Okay. I expect you to do the same.
I will. He pressed his lips to her forehead.
It felt like good-bye. That frightened her. You should leave. She slapped his armor-clad chest. Before the rebels surround the freighter. Before she broke down and cried.
“Gap.” Crash looked at the young warrior. “Gather Menace and Mayhem. We’re departing shortly.”
“I’ll up my kill rate and see my female.” Gap’s joy was unfettered as he left the bridge.
“I’ll coordinate the operations from here.” Safyre lifted her chin.
“I know you will.” Crash kissed her, hard, a hint of desperation in his embrace. Did he feel it too—this sense of foreboding?
She cur
led her tongue around his, seeking to hold onto him. His nanocybotics bubbled inside her mouth. His unique flavor meshed with hers.
The kiss ended too soon, Crash drawing back from her. “I’m with you.” He touched her sleeve, reminding her of the strap he had wound around her arm. “Always.”
“I’m with you also.” She placed one of her palms over his big cyborg heart. “Here.”
That wasn’t enough, not for her. Safyre grasped one of his daggers, severed the longest lock of her hair, and wrapped it around the hilt, the orange vivid against the black. “If you have to use your dagger.” And she hoped he wouldn’t. “This will tighten your grip on it.”
He swept his thumb over the lock of hair. “I promise to give it back to you.”
“You do that.” She paused. “Be safe, my male.”
Her cyborg smiled, his happiness over her not-so-casually spoken words tugging at her soul. “Be safe, my female.”
Then he was gone, taking more than a strand of her hair with him.
She loved her big strong warrior. He didn’t know how she felt. She hadn’t told him. Safyre stared at the exit. She should have said something. If he didn’t return…
No, he’d return. She clasped her sleeve. He had to. She had his leather binding. He’d need that. The darkness swirling around the pit of her stomach was misplaced fear.
He’d survive this mission. She’d see him again.
“There’s little reason to be concerned, Crash’s female,” Death relayed. “Erinomean Green Fire is highly volatile. It’s unlikely the humans will use it.”
“What is Erinomean Green Fire?” Safyre turned her head and stared at the cyborg.
The damn warrior suddenly became very interested in the images on the viewscreen. He didn’t answer her question.
She returned to her seat and inputted Erinomean Green Fire into the system. The results were disturbing. The substance was extremely rare and could dissolve battle stations, buildings…cyborgs.
“The Humanoid Alliance is using this on Tau Ceti?” Her voice rose. “What the fuck? Crash could be killed.” She could have sent him to his death.
“The humans would be foolish to use it.” His friend dismissed her concerns. “It’s more likely to kill the user than the target.”
“But they could use it.” It was a possibility.
“They could also immediately use the World Ender.” Death shrugged. “The device is positioned above the planet but that’s equally unlikely. Both are weapons of last resort.”
And the Humanoid Alliance still had hope. They believed a freighter filled with cyborgs was available for deployment. Safyre breathed in, breathed out, forcing herself to calm the fuck down. “Okay.”
“The area has been secured,” Death relayed. “Repairs on the freighter are being completed. The cyborg retrieval team is ready to depart.”
“Good.” She wanted to leave as soon as Crash returned.
There was a long pause.
Death looked at her. “Do we have your authorization to dispatch the cyborg retrieval team?”
She blinked. “Do you need my authorization?”
“Crash put you in charge of operations.”
She wasn’t helping to coordinate operations. Crash had placed her in charge, trusting her with the safety of all of his brethren. That was how much he respected her.
She wouldn’t let him down. She’d focus on what she could do, not what might be. “You have my authorization to dispatch the cyborg retrieval team. Remind them that they are to remain unseen.” No being could know that they were capable of free will, that they were operating on their own. “If they’re detected, they’re to eliminate all witnesses.”
Death’s eyes gleamed with approval. “That message has been relayed, Crash’s female.”
“Let’s bring everyone home safely.” Including the cyborg she loved.
Chapter Twelve
Crash marched behind the other warriors, his tread silent and light, his heart heavy. He scanned their surroundings for life-forms, ensuring their rear was protected, and tried not to think of his Safyre, the female he didn’t want to live without.
Their path was a dried waterway, the route winding, the ground hard under their booted feet. Green-and-brown striped stone stretched high above their heads, casting a shadow across them. Ships couldn’t navigate in the narrow space. Humans or humanoids fighting on foot were at a disadvantage. Cyborgs could see in any lighting. They could detect life-forms.
Menace and Mayhem led the group, gleefully shooting any beings they met. For them, this was just another mission, an opportunity to up their kill rates.
Gap dawdled in the middle of the group, which wasn’t like him. The young cyborg usually rushed everywhere. He should have been in even more of a hurry to see his Nymphia, the female he’d been chattering constantly about the last couple of planet rotations.
His friend sighed heavily for the fourth time since leaving the freighter.
What’s your damage, kid? Crash asked through their transmission lines. We’re rescuing your female. Isn’t that what you wanted?
She’s so beautiful, so human.
Oh frag. Crash rolled his eyes. That’s all he needed—more gushing about Nymphia. Because this mission wasn’t challenging enough.
Yes, yes, he humored the kid. You’re a lucky cyborg. Nymphia wasn’t as beautiful as his Safyre was but then, no being could compare to her.
That’s the problem. I’m a cyborg. What if she doesn’t like cyborgs?
Ahhh… his friend had finally realized Nymphia might not be his genetic match. If she isn’t your female, there will be another for you. You—
She’s my female.
Menace turned to the right, fired three shots in rapid succession. A Tau Cetian warrior fell from his perch on a ledge above them. His lifeless form bounced against the rocks on the way down, blood splattering on the stone.
The two cyborgs slapped palms, grinning. Mayhem teased Menace about needing three shots. Menace replied that at least he detected the warrior.
I have no doubt that she’s my female. Gap dwelled on his own situation.
It was a situation Crash didn’t fully understand. Then the two of you are meant to be together. Her body will respond to yours.
She’ll respond physically. The kid sighed again. But what happens if she doesn’t like cyborgs or warriors or…me. That last transmission was barely audible.
Every being likes you. That was the truth. Even his Safyre doted on the male, giving the kid her beloved scarf, listening to his chatter.
No being likes me. Gap kicked a loose stone. It skittered along the path, the noise making Crash cringe. Any enemy within listening range would be aware of their location. Rage thinks I’m incompetent. You barely tolerate me.
I don’t barely tolerate you. Crash stopped that foolish talk. You’re my friend.
Rage is your friend and you’re his friend. I have no one. Gap’s shoulders rounded. I’ve never had anyone.
A cyborg can have more than one friend. Crash shook his head. Rage would die for you. I would die for you. We’re a team.
You call me the kid.
I call Rage big guy. That denotes caring, not lack of it.
They walked. Gap said nothing.
Had Crash said enough? If she’s your female—
She is.
She’ll love you, Gap. Crash pushed his palm against the cyborg’s shoulder blades, nudging him forward. Maybe not at first. She’s been trapped in the tunnels for planet rotations and has seen beings die. She might have emotional damage. But eventually she’ll love you. She’ll look at you with soft eyes. He envisioned his female’s after-breeding gaze. And it will bring you a joy you’ve never known. You’ll replay this moment and you’ll laugh, wondering why you stressed your processors about it.
She won’t care that I’m a cyborg?
She’ll love that you’re a cyborg. You’ll keep her safe. As he’d keep his Safyre safe. Protect her home, your offspr
ing.
Offspring.
Silence fell once again between them, both of them processing futures filled with offspring, love, hope, joy. Mayhem and Menace shot two rebels hiding in an alcove. Gap increased his pace until he was moving at cyborg speed.
Crash was glad. His friend’s happiness had been restored, his concerns allayed. And they’d complete the rescue faster.
His processors told him his female was well guarded. She remained in the freighter. Hundreds of heavily armed cyborgs circled the vessel. He could hear everything she said and heard through their private transmission line.
He processed all of that but his heart still screamed at him to return, that she was his to safeguard, his sole mission, his reason for living.
Crash wanted to listen to his heart. That wasn’t an option. His Safyre had given him the task of rescuing her friend and Gap was incapable of thinking straight at the moment.
They climbed up the bank, using the grooves in the stone as hand and footholds.
I’ll soon meet my female. The kid pulled himself over the edge and stood. She’ll love me and I’ll protect her and we’ll have offspring.
That would be his future if Nymphia were Gap’s female. Crash followed him. If she wasn’t, the warrior would suffer emotional damage.
All three of us will have females, Crash. Rage, you, me. We’ll need a larger ship, one with a training chamber for our offspring.
They could incorporate parts of his Safyre’s home into their new ship. He’d discuss that with his female before he agreed to any of Gap’s plans.
The young cyborg chattered about training of offspring and offspring’s names, his excitement increasing as they approached the entrance to the tunnels. The little caution he normally had was obliterated by the prospect of meeting Nymphia. Crash had to pull him behind a boulder.
Pay attention, he urged his friend.
I am.
Mayhem and Menace laughed over the transmission lines. It was clear that Gap wasn’t paying attention to anything other than his female.
