Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Drift waited with Cure for the medic’s contact to arrive. And he waited. And waited.
The planet’s one sun lowered.
Cure’s irritation became visible.
Drift found that interesting to watch. The medic normally favored his machine half. He dealt with emergencies and conflict using logic only.
Cure’s contact, somehow, provoked his often-hidden organic side. The medic currently paced back and forth in front of his beloved Rayan Skin Restorer.
Drift would prefer to stay and watch the impending explosion, but he had a meeting with his own contact at sunset. “We have to leave soon.”
“ We aren’t leaving.” Cure’s eyes flashed. “I’m staying here.”
Drift studied his friend. “If your contact doesn’t arrive?—”
“He’ll arrive.” The medic jutted his jaw. “This is his only opportunity to use a Rayan Skin Restorer.”
Drift was beginning to project that piece of machinery might not be as important to every medic as it was to Cure. “Transmit when he arrives.”
If he hadn’t heard from Cure by the time he’d completed his own meeting, he’d return for him.
“I’ll transmit when he arrives.” The medic nodded.
Drift took one more look around them. His lifeform scans indicated there was no one near them, but the unique minerals in the ground might be interfering with the process. His visual scan, however, relayed the same intel.
He returned to the ship, retracted the ramp, closed the doors, and lifted off.
It was a short voyage to the coordinates he had been given. He flew over the small beverage outlet that was designated as the meeting location. There was no activity outside it, no ships in the air around it, and he could easily neutralize the maximum number of beings capable of fitting in the structure.
That situation could change in a heartbeat. He would still proceed with caution.
Drift landed the modified freighter an easy run…for a cyborg…away from his target destination.
He stood. Then he swept his hands over his body armor, ensuring his portable arsenal remained intact. Being the Dauntless’s pilot was his role now. But he had been manufactured and trained to be a warrior, and he had fought in numerous battles before escaping the Humanoid Alliance’s control.
That past would always be a part of him.
He ran a lifeform scan. No beings were detected around the modified freighter.
Drift exited the ship and quickly set perimeter alarms around it. The vessel’s systems could and would be accessed remotely. The perimeter alarms and the locking of the doors would slow any would-be intruders and give him time to stop them.
His contact was a ship thief. The male might not be the only one of his kind on the planet.
Drift ran toward the meeting spot. The moon exuded sufficient light for a human’s visual system. Drift was a cyborg. His senses were enhanced. He saw the rocks, the sand, and the scurrying little scale-covered critters clearly.
The wind whistled around the stone formations. The stars above his head shone.
Cancri B was an ideal planet for breaking in-the-air speed records. The skies were clear. There was very little activity to interfere with any flight paths he set.
But it was also great terrain to break on-foot speed records. There was solid stone under the cushion of sand. There were a few boulders to navigate between but not many more obstacles.
Drift’s appreciation for going fast had been first gained on the surface of a planet. During the Humanoid Alliance’s grueling training program, he’d only had access to his two booted feet. Every opportunity he was given, he’d run full-out.
As he was running now. His circuits surged with joy.
If he didn’t have a meeting to attend, he would run for planet rotations.
But the illumination from the beverage outlet served as a beacon before him. And he reached the structure within mere moments.
He slowed his speed.
According to his lifeform scans, there were six humanoid males, one humanoid female, and one human female inside the beverage outlet. One of those beings would be his contact.
Drift circled the structure. Five land transports of varying sizes and conditions as well as one superbly modified mounted transport were parked nearby.
He attached trackers to the land transports first, placing the tiny devices in spots few beings would detect.
Then he approached the mounted transport.
It was a work of art. He gazed at the single-being vessel with open admiration. The machine sported small-yet-powerful dual enhanced engines and was equipped with custom-grooved handgrips and improved controls. Every stretch of exposed metal had been lightly engraved with perfect little swirls. That intentionally dulled its shine.
His fingers twitched. The urge to fly it was intense.
The mounted transport would cut through the air like a dagger sliced through water. There would be little drag, and it would be difficult to detect under the moonlight.
He could set speed records in the mounted-transport categories with the machine.
Unable to resist touching it, he skimmed his right hand over the immaculately maintained seat. The most delectable scent rose from that soft surface. He breathed deeply. The aroma was an enticing combination of leather, engine lubricant, and hot, fertile female.
Need rushed through Drift’s circuits. His body armor-contained cock hardened. A soul-deep rumble vibrated his chest.
The machine was turning him on.
Fraggin’ hole. His lips twisted. He was glad his brethren weren’t present to see his response. They would tease him mercilessly over his unguarded reaction.
His fellow cyborgs processed he loved ships. They didn’t process how much he apparently loved them.
Drift had to force himself to step back from the mounted transport. When he turned and walked away from the single-being ship, a strange sense of loss pulled at him.
He pushed that emotion to the back of his processors and continued his tour around the beverage outlet. His assignment had to be his focus. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by a fine piece of machinery.
The exits from the structure were noted.
There were three sets of doors.
There was a high probability the one at the back was used for unloading supplies. His nose wrinkled. It smelled like fuel and decay.
The exit at the side was rarely used. It was currently blocked by a container. He nudged it with the toe of his boot. It moved easily. He could exit that way if needed.
The main doors were fabricated for customers. He walked through them.
A wave of decadent scent blasted him, and his need returned. He staggered. The intensity of it almost knocked him to his knees.
Every being in the structure turned their heads. They stared at him.
The two humanoid males, one sitting on the other’s lap, lowered their hands to their holstered guns.
The big humanoid male located behind the bar shifted closer to that wall of metal. His hands were out of visual range, but Drift projected he was holding a weapon.
The knuckles of the humanoid female standing beside the bar-situated male whitened around the handle of a huge knife.
A gray-haired, wrinkled humanoid male blinked at him. His toothless mouth fell open.
The humanoid male seated near the wrinkled male slipped one of his hands into a front pocket.
The human female, and Drift projected she was the source of the tantalizing aroma filling the chamber, played with the shaping tool set on the horizontal support in front of her. She sported the same orange-pigmented skin and black hair as the others.
Her form was solid. Her leather garments were laden with more tools. She was covered with orange dust, and she projected strength.
Drift liked that. Very much. His lips curled upward.
He was 100.0000 percent certain she was his female.
The mounted transport hadn’t turned him on. She had provoked his wanting.
The all-encompassing desire he felt for her was a sign he’d found his genetic match. She was the one being in the universe he was destined to care for, protect, spend his long lifespan with.
Before he claimed his female, however, he had to de-escalate the situation.
Some of the humanoids in the structure appeared to be one overly eager trigger finger away from starting a multi-being gunfight.
“I was invited here.” He held up his hands, showing them his empty palms. “I’m meeting with L.”
“That’s bovine shit.” The humanoid male with his hand in his pocket scowled. “L isn’t meeting with…” He gestured at him with his free hand.
“We have a mutual friend.” Drift summoned a smile. “He said you might be able to help us.”
Strike had relayed that comment.
“I’m helping you with what?” The male eyed him with palpable suspicion.
Drift looked pointedly at the other beings.
“I trust them.” The male grunted. “I don’t trust you.”
Drift had no choice but to have the conversation in the open. “You supplied my friend with a ship. We need to process how you obtained it.”
“He’s working with the Invaders.” One of the paired males made that bizarre accusation.
The male he was seated on stood.
The accuser was knocked to the floor.
The standing male drew his gun.
Drift drew his gun faster. He flicked the setting to stun, aimed his weapon and tapped the trigger.
The male froze in place.
Chaos then erupted. The male behind the bar raised a long gun.
Drift drew his other gun and stunned that being also.
His female flicked the shaping tool. It converted into a gun. She tapped the trigger.
Her aim was impressively true. He veered to the right. The projectile skimmed the body armor covering his left shoulder.
The male on the floor aimed a gun at him.
Drift stunned him.
His female shot at him again.
He twisted his torso to avoid that projectile.
The other female threw her knife.
Drift dodged that blade and immobilized her.
The male he assumed was L raised his gun.
Drift stunned him before he could fire his weapon.
His female converted another tool into a gun and shot at Drift with both weapons.
He expanded his stance as far as he could, dropping his body armor-clad ass to the floor.
The projectiles whizzed over his head.
She shot at him again.
He rolled.
“Fates. I might as well join in.” The gray-haired male drew a gun with one hand and lifted a container of beverage in the other.
Drift stunned him before he took a sip of the liquid.
That left only two beings mobile – him and his female. She rose to her booted feet and shot at him. He holstered his gun and ran around the perimeter of the chamber at cyborg speed. As he accelerated, he climbed the walls.
His female turned and tapped her triggers.
Her skills were adequate…for a human. But they couldn’t match his.
“Fates. You’re fast.” She cleverly tried to anticipate his movements, targeting the space in front of him.
“Cyborgs are fast.” He varied his speed and his path. The projectiles pinged around him. “But I’m the fastest. I’ve set speed records in the past on booted feet.”
Those speed records had held for solar cycles. Until a new model had beaten them.
“That’s impressive.” His female shot at him. “But this isn’t the past.”
Fraggin’ hole. She was challenging him.
And he loved a challenge. Drift pushed himself to run faster. “That mounted transport parked outside is a sweet ride.”
“I built it myself.” Pink bloomed on her orange cheeks. “You’re not shooting back at me.”
“Being stunned hurts.” He dashed across the chamber. “I would never damage you intentionally in any way.”
He glided his fingertips over her cloth-covered back.
And they both shuddered.
Touching her was better than running. It was pure ecstasy.
“You want to stun me because I have to be alive to be interrogated.” Her top lip curled. “You might as well use projectiles. Because I’ll die before telling your leaders anything.”
“Then I’ll never allow you to be interrogated.” He’d safeguard her. “And I’ll also never use projectiles on you, my fragile human female. I’ll use other means to receive answers to my queries.”
Cure’s contact might be more forthcoming.
“Fuck you.” Drift’s female braced her booted feet apart and shot at him.
The projectile bombardment was slowing. His little human was tiring.
“We can breed later.” His body armor-constrained cock bobbed. That part of him liked that proposal. “We detected a pulsing sound in our sector.” He’d present his queries and observe her response. “It was similar to the sound caused by a superweapon fabricated by our enemy, and it originated from this section of space.”
His female’s gunfire paused. It was only for three heartbeats, but it was telling.
Hope coursed through Drift.
She processed something about the sound. The trip to Cancri B had been justified.
“I don’t know anything about that.” Her voice rose ever so slightly. The change in octaves would have been indetectable by most purely organic species.
But Drift was a cyborg, and he was paying attention to her, his female. “The ship supplied to the Powluk was also fabricated by our enemy.”
His female stopped shooting. “How do I know you’re not working with this supposed enemy?”
That accusation decimated all of his mirth.
“That enemy decommissioned millions of my brethren.” He would never work with the Humanoid Alliance. “The Humanoid Alliance stripped them of their parts while they were alive, slicing and dicing them. Their screams of agony have a permanent place in my processors. It was the most painful of deaths.”
“No, that’s not the most painful of deaths.” The bleak expression on his female’s beautiful face emotionally damaged him. “But it’s bad. And I suppose they didn’t give you any pain suppressors.”
“They viewed us as disposable weapons.” Drift slowed to a jog. “Weapons don’t warrant pain suppressors.”
“Fates.” She looked around them, at the beings he’d stunned. “You could be lying.”
“Cyborgs can’t lie.” That was hard coded into their programming.
“You could be lying about that.” She challenged him.
“You’re a clever being.” He laughed. “I could be lying about that.”
Her lips twitched. “But I have to take a chance that you aren’t lying. You move too fast to shoot.”
“There’s that.” Drift was entertained by her logic.
“And you haven’t killed anyone. Yet.” She frowned. “I suspect you could have killed everyone in here, including me.”
“I would never damage you.” But yes, he could have killed every being in the beverage outlet. Easily. The humanoids hadn’t been fabricated for war as he had been.
“I’ll go with you and point out your supposed enemy to you, but only if you vow to me you won’t harm any of the beings here.” His female lifted her chin.
Frag. He wanted to kiss her. She was brave and protective of her friends.
“I won’t harm any of the beings here.” He paused. “Unless they attempt to harm you.”
“They would never do that.” Her brown eyes flashed.
“Then I would never harm them.” He slowed to a stop in front of her.
Her gaze met his. “I could shoot you now.” Her fingers tightened around the handles of her guns.
“You could attempt to shoot me now.” And he might allow her to shoot him. In a non-lethal spot. Because that would please her.
He very much wanted to please her.
“All you want to know is where the Invaders lurk?” She looked up at him.
Drift wanted to process much more than that. He desired to hear everything about her—her favorite color, her dreams, how she’d built that sweet mounted transport she flew. He breathed deeply. Was she as wet for him as her scent implied she was?
But he would start with the Invaders’ location. He suspected the Invaders were their shared enemy—the Humanoid Alliance.
“The cyborg council has charged me with finding the source of the pulsing sound and uncovering if the Humanoid Alliance has a presence on your planet.” He relayed that truth to her. “That’s all the intel they require.”
“I’m agreeing to show you the Humanoid Alliance has a presence on our planet and that’s it.” His female converted her weapons back into tools and then slid them into their holsters. “Their presence here isn’t a secret. Your supposed enemy has seized control of the terrain, and they seek to ensure everyone is aware of that. That’s information every being on Cancri B knows.” Her eyes glittered with defiance.
His female didn’t trust him not to betray her. That was her communication.
Earning her trust would be a challenge.
Drift grinned.
He liked challenges.