Crash and Burn (Cyborg Sizzle #3)

by Cynthia Sax

  Chapter Fourteen

  His Safyre hadn’t rejected him. Crash sucked on her pale skin, tasting salt and fertile female. She’d accepted his failure to save her friend with a bewildering calm. Yet the damage he’d suffered during the mission had angered her.

  His suggestion that she replace him with a more worthy warrior had also enraged his little human. She’d dismissed that logical proposal, had threatened to damage herself if he left her.

  Then, during breeding, she had beat on him. Her fury had been glorious, stopping his heart for a moment. She now sat on his lap, appearing serene and peaceful.

  Every time he thought he had her figured out, she did or said something he would have never predicted. Crash splayed his fingers over her rounded stomach. She required a highly intelligent male, one capable of controlling her recklessness, a being who would appreciate her passion.

  Crash ran through his mental list of free cyborgs, evaluating them. Death was too serious. Menace didn’t appreciate her orange hair, calling it unnatural. Mayhem was…too Mayhem.

  He evaluated and dismissed cyborg after cyborg. None of them met his qualifications. None of them were worthy of Safyre.

  He would have to keep her. The tension dissipated from Crash’s shoulders.

  She was his.

  For as long as he remained alive, which might not be long. Rage, his friend, had been extremely protective of Gap, and the cyborg’s temper rivaled his Safyre’s. Crash nibbled over her neck. Rage would blame Crash for the kid’s death.

  That reaction was justified. Crash sighed. He had failed Gap.

  “You had better be sighing over how fuckin’ beautiful I am, warrior.” Warning edged his Safyre’s sweet voice. “Because if I find out you’re punishing yourself yet again for what happened this planet rotation, I’ll be very unhappy.”

  Crash’s spine straightened. “You are beautiful, my Safyre. You’re—”

  The doors slid open behind them. “You’re naked.” Death strode onto the bridge and Safyre squeaked, burrowing deeper into Crash’s body. “Two flight suits.” He tossed them to Crash. “The cyborgs have been loaded. The Humanoid Alliance warriors are leaving.”

  “What?” Safyre peered over Crash’s arm.

  “They’re rushing for their transports.” Death sat in the chair next to them. “Some ships have already departed.”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” She grabbed the smaller flight suit and wiggled into it, her curves jiggling. Knowing how his female felt about nudity, Crash shifted his shoulders, concealing her body from Death’s view. “They’re activating the World Ender.” She worried.

  “It will take time for them to evacuate.” He tried to ease her concerns. “The humans aren’t well organized.”

  “The Tau Cetians will react.” She jumped into the seat to his left. “They’ll attempt to commandeer as many ships as possible.” The engines hummed to life around them. “They’re fighting for the survival of their species.”

  Crash performed a life-form scan. All cyborgs were accounted for. Except one. His heart clenched. “Why are there sixteen humans on board?” He slanted his gaze to Death.

  “One human and fifteen small humanoids are on board.” The cyborg’s voice was flat. “A cyborg named Vapor requested them.”

  They must be war orphans. Although Vapor and his human female, Mira, had produced their own little warrior, they’d also accumulated an assortment of offspring from other species.

  “Who relayed that information?” Vapor wouldn’t have communicated directly with Death. The cyborgs had been positioned sectors apart.

  “Gap made the request before he left.” Death gazed directly before him.

  His friend had asked that they rescue the orphans. Crash swallowed hard. He couldn’t deny that last request.

  “Doors are closed.” His voice was brusque. “The area around us is devoid of fighting.”

  “The warriors were thorough at clearing the space.” His Safyre reached over and squeezed his fingers, her comfort silent, effective, communicating that he wasn’t alone.

  She understood and cared for him. He felt that in her touch.

  “Jettison all of the tracking devices,” she ordered, returning her hands to her control panel. “We’ll make it look like we didn’t leave the planet in time.”

  She was a clever female. Crash transmitted her command and waited for confirmation. “They’ve been jettisoned.”

  “Then it’s time to go.” She moved her hands forward. The freighter lifted off, the ascent smooth.

  Cyborgs interfaced directly with the ships they piloted. Her manual guidance fascinated him. It was…arousing. His cock hardened.

  Now wasn’t the time for breeding. An air current hit the freighter and they rocked. Crash placed his hands on his controls, connecting with the system, steadying the vessel.

  His Safyre guided them upward. The sky was crowded, chaotic with the evacuation. It was a human-led effort. His lips flattened. It lacked the alignment a cyborg-led mission would have.

  One large transport shuttle bumped against a smaller ship, crushing its hull. Escape pods detached as the ship fell to the surface, pieces burning up in the atmosphere.

  No one rescued the escape pods.

  His Safyre maneuvered their freighter through gaps so small, they set off perimeter breach warnings. Lights flashed.

  “Can you turn that off?” she grumbled. “It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Consider it done.” The warnings stopped.

  His Safyre slipped the freighter into an even smaller space.

  Your female can fly, Death transmitted, awe in his tone.

  She had skills. Pride straightened Crash’s spine.

  “Fuck. It’s busy up here,” she muttered.

  Missiles arced around them, striking Humanoid Alliance ships. One exploded too fraggin’ close for his comfort. Debris pinged the sides of the freighter, causing it to shudder and shake.

  “Shit.” Lines appeared between his female’s eyebrows. “Damage report?”

  Crash ran a diagnostic. “Damage is minor.”

  Humanoid Alliance vessels fired back. More missiles zinged through the air, targeting the ships around them.

  Crash smelled his Safyre’s fear. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead and chin. He gritted his teeth, his human side wanting to calm his female, to protect her.

  “The Humanoid Alliance Base, Tau Ceti location, requests hailing frequencies be opened, Captain Safyre,” the freighter’s system relayed.

  “Aargh.” His Safyre leaned farther over the console. “This is not a good time.”

  “We could ignore the hail,” Death suggested.

  “The base might report that to Central, putting other cyborgs at risk.” She slowed the freighter. “Open hailing frequencies.”

  “This is Communications Officer Weston, Captain Safyre. All Humanoid Alliance ships have been instructed to leave the planet.” The young human paused. “If you value your life, you’ll leave too.”

  His Safyre’s frown deepened. “Commander Alakai didn’t instruct you to relay this message, did he, Communications Officer Weston?”

  “No, ma’am. Commander Alakai has left the base. I’ve been instructed to receive incoming communications only.”

  “Yet you hailed me.”

  “Not every human believes in the Humanoid Alliance’s cause.” The male’s voice was soft. “I didn’t sign up to kill innocents or to eradicate an entire species.”

  “Careful, Communications Officer Weston.” She navigated the freighter through a narrow opening between ships. “They have shot soldiers for issuing similar statements.”

  “They’ve killed me already, Captain Safyre.” The human’s laugh was bitter. “I didn’t have sufficient rank to warrant a spot on a ship. They left me here to die.”

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  “For future reference, the Humanoid Alliance has added a failsafe on communications channels, allowing a skilled Communications Officer
to detect when visuals have been manually deactivated.”

  Crash exchanged a look of disbelief with Death. The human had known what they’d done, yet he hadn’t reported that to his superiors.

  “I hope you accomplished everything you had planned, Captain Safyre. Safe journeys.”

  “Thank you, Communications Officer Weston.” Emotion weighted Safyre’s words. “May you find peace.” She ended the transmission. “I wish we could save everyone.”

  “We can’t.” The freighter was filled to its maximum capacity with beings and their voyage was long. They couldn’t accommodate more souls.

  “I know.”

  Crash helped her pilot the freighter. The farther from the planet they moved, the more space they had to maneuver.

  “These are officer ships.” His female twitched her head toward the main viewscreen. “They evacuated themselves first. I bet they’re half empty.”

  Cyborgs would never be that selfish. Crash glanced at his Safyre. She wouldn’t have saved herself first either.

  “If I was solo, I’d fire on those ships.” Her beautiful face was tight with anger. “But there are thousands of beings on board our freighter, some of them children. The Humanoid Alliance mustn’t know our ship isn’t one of theirs.”

  “The officers’ deaths will wait,” Crash assured her.

  His Safyre nodded curtly, reduced speed and eased the freighter between a trio of ships. Metal whined as they skimmed against one and she sucked in her breath.

  Then they were free, breaking through the congestion, floating into open space. She exhaled raggedly. “We’ve left orbit.” She increased their speed. “Is anyone following us?”

  Crash scanned the fleet. No ships broke out of the formation. “We’re not being followed.”

  “Whew.” She slumped back in her chair. “That was easier than I expected. The Humanoid Alliance didn’t suspect a thing.” Lines etched between her eyebrows. “I suspect Communications Officer Weston had something to do with that. That poor kid.”

  “Not all humans are evil,” Crash observed.

  “Not many are.” His female rolled her pretty brown eyes. “It is merely that the few who are evil tend to be well organized.”

  He’d seen the chaos of the evacuation. They weren’t that well organized.

  “I thought the Tau Cetians would target us, though,” she mused. “We’re officially part of the Humanoid Alliance fleet, our freighter is heavy and slow, easy pickings, yet none of the missiles were directed at us.”

  “We’re transporting fifteen of their offspring,” Death relayed.

  “I know that.” His Safyre’s tone was dry. “But how do they?”

  Fraggin’ hole. “The Tau Cetians must have spotted them being loaded onto the freighter. We had witnesses. They’ll know we were operating on our own.”

  “They’ll assume some other being was controlling us,” Death dismissed. “And if they don’t, it’s of no consequence. The Humanoid Alliance is blowing up their planet.”

  His Safyre tilted her head. “Any Tau Cetians who survive are unlikely to talk to the Humanoid Alliance. They’re enemies.”

  “We can’t assume that.” Crash frowned. “We have to be more careful. The safety of our brethren, of the warriors remaining enslaved, depends on the humans not knowing our full capabilities.” He also had a female to protect.

  “We’ll be more cautious the next time we free warriors.” His Safyre dipped her head.

  Crash narrowed his eyes. “There will be no we freeing warriors.” He wouldn’t risk her life.

  “Oh, there will be.” She met his gaze. “You vowed never to leave me.”

  That was one vow he wouldn’t break. He wasn’t letting her out of his sightlines. “I organize missions. I don’t normally take part in them.”

  Gap always took part. Crash pressed his lips together, aching with grief. The kid always wanted to be in the thickest part of any battle, his guns blazing, a wide grin on his face.

  Safyre gripped his fingers. “You’re thinking of him.”

  “I am.” Crash exhaled heavily. “I’ve lost so many brethren. It should get easier.” That would be logical. “But it doesn’t. It damages me every time.”

  “It should.” Her eyes reflected her own grief. “We loved them. We should miss them. But we have to live also. We have to grab happiness wherever we can find it.”

  Crash knew where his happiness was. He gazed at the female sitting beside him, her bright orange hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, her lush form stressing the confines of her flight suit. “I meant what I said to Gap. When you look at me, I feel a joy I’ve never known.”

  “You do?” Her bottom lip quivered, tempting him to lick it.

  “I do and I’m glad Gap had that experience.”

  “He was a fortunate cyborg,” Death contributed, his tone gruff. “You miss him. I process that. You blame yourself. I process that too. But I would have traded all of my solar cycles of living for that moment he had with his female in the tunnel. To be loved—” His voice cracked.

  Safyre squeezed Crash’s fingers. “Love is rare.”

  It was rare for humans and even rarer for cyborgs. Humans often treated love with a shocking casualness, indulging in it one moment and then discarding it the next.

  A cyborg’s love was different, deeper, lasting. They could meet a thousand, a million human females and not find one they were compatible with.

  Crash would never treat what he felt for his Safyre casually. He realized how fortunate he was, would do anything to protect her.

  “Gap wouldn’t have wanted to live without Nymphia,” Crash admitted. He wouldn’t want to live without his Safyre.

  He scooped his little human up, claimed her chair, and set her on his lap, wanting, needing to touch her, to reassure himself physically that she was undamaged.

  “I’m busy, flying our ship.” Her frown didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Then fly our ship.” He patted her hips, savoring her softness. “I’m not stopping you.”

  “You’re distracting me,” his Safyre grumbled. “Where are we going?” She waved one of her hands at the main viewscreen. “You haven’t given me a destination.”

  “The humanoids should be conveyed to their new home first.” Crash reached around her and inputted the coordinates for Earth Minor, a tiny isolated planet.

  Humanoids, with the exception of cyborg’s females, weren’t allowed in the cyborg Homeland. Earth Minor was a secondary settlement, protected by their brethren. It was fertile and green and of no interest to the Humanoid Alliance.

  His Safyre plotted the course. “We have sufficient supplies for the Tau Cetian children. The freighter was conveying nutrition bars and other provisions for the troops.”

  The offspring would be well looked after also. Over the transmission lines, J model cyborgs were campaigning for the duty to care for them. For some, it might be their only exposure to offspring.

  Crash rested his chin on Safyre’s shoulder. Not all cyborgs would meet their females. “Lack of supplies isn’t the reason for conveying them first. Vapor and his female, Mira, will wish to meet their new offspring.”

  “Those offspring are fortunate.” She placed one of her hands on his. “When I lost my parents, I was placed at the Academy. There were no beings waiting, wishing to meet me.”

  She’d been alone. He held her tight. “Were you scared?”

  “I was terrified.” She glanced up at him and grinned, her eyes shining. “But I didn’t show it. I was a brute, a bully, fighting and cursing and yelling at beings, stomping around with a bad attitude. Tifara would patch me up after my scuffles. She was a healer even then.”

  Tifara was a loose end Crash had to tie up. She knew too much about him, possibly about all cyborgs. “What softened you?”

  “Nymphia.” Safyre’s smile was tinged with sadness. “I continued to fight, but only to protect her, Tifara, some of the others. And I shielded her from as much of the ugliness in the univer
se as possible.”

  “You loved her.”

  “As you loved Gap.” She linked her fingers with his. “We love you too, Death,” she teased, lightening the mood.

  The cyborg grunted.

  “You’re my female,” Crash said gruffly. He yearned to ask if she loved him but he didn’t want a joke answer. “No loving other cyborgs.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Half a planet rotation ago, you wanted to give me away to another cyborg.”

  “I changed my mind.” He drew her closer. “I’ve decided to keep you.”

  He held her as she navigated the freighter toward Earth Minor. Tau Ceti appeared smaller and smaller in the rear view until it disappeared. As the distance increased, his tension dissipated.

  “It’s time,” Death announced.

  “Put it on the viewscreen.”

  The blue and white planet appeared before them. The World Ender hovered above it. The device glowed ominously.

  “They’re really going to use it.” His Safyre’s disbelief reflected his. The Humanoid Alliance would rather destroy an entire planet than be defeated.

  A bolt of light flashed, originating from the World Ender. A sphere formed, spinning, glowing as brightly as his female’s hair.

  “Is that a neutron star?” she asked.

  “It has similarities.” It would be as deadly.

  The crust of Tau Ceti heated. Orange and red spread across the surface, a rolling wave of death and devastation. There was no more blue, no more white. The planet resembled a sphere of molten lava.

  His Safyre gripped his hands hard. “They’re all dead, million of beings. No one could have survived that.”

  Crash said nothing. He couldn’t lie to her. No one could survive it. Any being who hadn’t evacuated was dead.

  They watched as the destruction continued. More and more bits of the planet broke off, sucked toward the simulated neutron star. The pieces entered into an orbit around it, forming a ring of debris. That debris grew denser until it was all that was left of Tau Ceti.

  The planet no longer existed.

  “Fuck.” His Safyre slumped against him. “All of those souls. It weighs down on me here.” She pressed his palm over her heart.

  “We saved the beings we could.” Crash’s voice was gruff. “By asking that we take some orphans on board, Gap ensured that Tau Cetians would continue to exist.” That would be part of his friend’s legacy.