Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Planet rotations passed.
Drift and his female bred. Often. And his desire for her built, rather than waned, with each additional encounter. Caressing her, kissing her, being inside her was an experience without equal.
They also strived to break speed records. Sometimes those attempts were made on her mounted transport with him riding behind her, and sometimes they pushed those boundaries on booted feet with him carrying her.
The two of them ate nourishment. When they were situated at the modified freighter, that nourishment consisted of the bars Yum had stocked for him. When they were located at the caves, their nourishment was vegetation plucked fresh from his female’s ingenious interior agri-lot.
She drank beverage and slept. He held her, safeguarding her while she was in that vulnerable state, and he restored his own energy levels, inserting cables into his wrists.
They trained and planned for the upcoming mission. Every aspect of the Plan was reviewed and refined. They increased the probability of everyone’s survival as much as possible.
That everyone excluded the Humanoid Alliance. Those beings would all die.
Drift projected with a 95.4777 percent certainty he could save his female and himself. The other beings had a much lower chance of success.
As his female had correctly stated, he couldn’t carry everyone to safety.
That truth emotionally damaged his female, which, in turn, emotionally damaged him. She met with her friend every sunrise, passing along orders and exchanging information.
His female also relayed caring.
She loved the big Cancri male. That was palpable for Drift to observe. The way she spoke with Luam and looked at him communicated a family-equivalent bond. And the progression of the humanoid’s damage distressed her. Greatly. She ran to shelter in Drift’s arms after every meeting.
He repaired her as much as he could. With words and with touch.
Then they would breed a few more times, losing themselves in that bliss.
After that, they would train. Hard. They now moved as one. He could anticipate her reactions. She could anticipate his. They were a cohesive team.
The routine for the current planet rotation had a slight variance. They returned, not to her cave, but to the modified freighter.
Drift deactivated the perimeter alarms, and they walked around the vessel, hand-in-hand, his stride matching hers.
The modified freighter had sunk into the sand slightly. There was a thin layer of orange granules on top of the ship. Otherwise, it looked as he had left it.
“It’s functional.” He patted a side panel. It was a good ship.
“The Invaders rarely fly over this part of the planet.” His female glanced up at the sky.
It was clear and blue and perfect for flying. A being could break speed records under similar conditions.
But that wasn’t their task for the planet rotation.
“We won’t move it until we have to do that.” He relayed that decision.
A ship parked amidst mountain ranges, covered by a layer of sand, was much less visible than one airborne. The modified freighter was safer where it was.
“It’s the best way to relocate our more volatile of cargos.” She said that for his auditory system only.
He processed her code. They’d utilize the modified freighter to transport the cylinders of Erinomean Green Fire to Bubs’s Place for distribution to their team.
It was the safest way to do that. The modified freighter’s flight would be smooth.
Before they undertook that task, he had to relay the details about their mission to Cure, Captain, and the officers situated on the Dauntless.
That was most effectively done onboard the modified freighter. Being a cyborg, Drift transmitted constantly with his brethren, but there was some intel he preferred to convey with a visual. And that means of communication allowed his female to see and hear everything.
Power, the leader of the cyborg council, would also have to be informed of their plans. There was a 99.2563 percent probability Captain would assume that task, however.
Drift would focus on their assignment and on protecting his brave little human.
He grasped her hand, savoring that skin-on-skin contact, and he walked with her up the ramp and into the modified freighter.
“No one will intercept our chatter in here.” They didn’t have to use code inside the ship. “Do you want to take part in the information relay with my captain?”
“I’d prefer not to play an active role in that conversation.” His female remained skittish.
He appreciated her caution. It had kept her alive after the Humanoid Alliance invaded her planet. “What parts of the Plan do you not want me to convey to them?”
“Convey everything to them.” Her trust in him and in his brethren humbled him.
The lifespans of her entire team, beings she cared for and sought to protect, hinged on keeping the Plan a secret from their shared enemy.
He’d ensure her faith in him wasn’t misplaced. “Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
Hidden under the simulated hair, finger-width long dark-brown locks now covered his female’s scalp. Her natural hair was growing back. As were her fingernails and toenails.
Her other damage had fully repaired. And her pain was gone.
“Your kind might see something we haven’t.” She gave him a too-quick hug before claiming the seat beside his. “They could figure out how to save the others.”
That was…improbable. He sat in the captain’s chair.
The other members of her team were humanoid. They didn’t have his speed. And carrying a second being would slow his pace. That would place his female in peril.
She could die.
He wouldn’t allow that to happen. “I’ll be including Cure on this communication.” He glanced at his female. “He processes much of the Plan already, and I didn’t relay those details to him.”
“Cyra is his contact, isn’t she?” His clever female had reached the same projection he had. “I suspected that during that first conversation you allowed me to overhear. She designed the treatment that slows the growth of the tumors.”
“Cure hasn’t confirmed she’s his contact.” His friend was being surprisingly covert regarding that detail. “Is Cyra part of the team?”
“She’s the failsafe, the second team, should the first team—ours—not be successful.” His female’s answer shouldn’t have surprised him. Her caution was processable. Yet it did. “The rest of our team doesn’t know about her. She doesn’t know about them. All she knows is her part of the plan, that she is to implement it when the explosives are detonated.”
That was a complication he hadn’t projected. “Are we to assist with her part of the Plan?” Were they to run, literally, from one dangerous situation into another?
“No.” His female shook her head. “We’re not to interfere with her plan. It would jeopardize its success.”
There was an 86.2552 percent probability Cure would assist his contact with the failsafe plan.
That would leave Drift as the sole cyborg on his female’s team.
“I’ll stress that the plan isn’t to be shared with non-cyborgs,” he assured his female.
“Your friend won’t know I’m listening.” She pointed out that truth. “We won’t know if Cyra is listening.”
“She could be listening.” He nodded. That was a possibility.
“I didn’t trust her…or anyone…with the entire plan because all beings, under extreme torture, eventually break and give up information.” His female’s tone was grim. “She can’t tell the Invaders information she doesn’t know.”
“If she’s listening to our communications, Cure trusts her.” His friend didn’t take other beings into his confidence indiscriminately. “And he’ll ensure she isn’t captured by the enemy.”
His female studied him for a moment.
He held her gaze.
“Is she his genetic match?” That projection was aligned with his also.
He grinned. They were in sync. “Cure hasn’t communicated that. But he also hasn’t disparaged her processing power since they met face-to-face. That’s…unlike him.”
“She could be his genetic match.” His female beamed at him.
And Drift’s systems flickered under that sensory onslaught. She was so fraggin’ beautiful.
“If they’ve fucked…if they’ve bred—” She utilized his word for that activity and that pleased him. “—she’ll have his nanocybotics. They’ll heal her. And she’ll survive also.”
“Those are quite a few ifs.” Drift warned her. He didn’t want her hopes to be raised only to be quashed later. That would emotionally damage her.
“We might not lose everyone on our team, my cyborg.” His female wouldn’t be cautioned. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” She reached over and squeezed his right body armor-covered arm. “Are you certain your nanocybotics can’t be given to other beings?”
His brave, caring female wanted to repair everyone.
That wasn’t possible. Not with the technology he processed. “Giving our nanocybotics to beings other than our genetic matches has been tested, and no, they immediately lose functionality.” He covered her hands with one of his. “Cure and Cyra, if she is his contact, will have to find another repair for the Cancris.”
“They can do that…providing they have more time.” His female’s voice rang with certainty. “We can give them that time by succeeding at our task.”
She slipped her hands out of his grip and sank into her seat.
Drift felt that loss of physical connection with her immediately and silently mourned it. “We’ll succeed at our task.” His brethren might assist them with their mission. “Are we ready to communicate with my captain?”
“We’re ready.” His female, once again, referred to them as one unit.
That was an honor he savored. “I’m opening communications.” He restricted the outgoing visuals to his face.
Cure restricted his visuals completely. His display on the main viewscreen was dark.
The image of their captain’s countenance appeared. Their captain’s Valkyrie and several of the officers, including Grid, Choice, and Argot, were also visible in the frame.
“Do you have an update, team?” Their captain met Drift’s gaze through the devices.
Drift relayed his female’s amended plan, sharing timelines and objectives. He scrubbed all emotion from his tone. And, although he didn’t gaze at his female, he was acutely aware of her presence and her support.
You’re a fortunate bag of bolts, warrior. Grid was the first to respond through the officer-only transmission line. Your mission sounds exceedingly dangerous.
One of my dad’s closest friends plus that warrior’s genetic match was killed by Erinomean Green Fire. Choice’s comment was more grim. It’s highly volatile.
There will be modifications you haven’t processed. Argot stated that truth. There were surprises with every mission.
“I don’t like the usage of Erinomean Green Fire.” Their captain shared Choice’s concern. “But, in this case, that appears to be an unavoidable input. The weapon would be fabricated to be nearly indestructible. Destroying it would require an extremely corrosive substance.”
“We tested the Erinomean Green Fire utilizing pieces of panel from the weapon.” That test had been completed three planet rotations ago. A member of the team had smuggled out small bits of the weapon’s exterior. Drift and his female had detonated one of the cylinders near it. “It completely dissolved the pieces.”
“Verifying its efficacy was wise.” His captain’s approval warmed Drift’s chest. “Cure, do you have intel to add?”
Drift straightened in his seat. He was interested to hear the medic’s response.
There was a pause.
“Cure?” Their captain repeated the medic’s name.
“Once the Erinomean Green Fire has dissipated, my contact and I will access the site and ensure the weapon has been destroyed.” Cure’s voice was devoid of all emotion. “We’ll also retrieve any intel stored at the site.”
Drift’s female nodded. That must have been the failsafe plan.
“That’s logical.” Their captain sounded satisfied. “I’ll relay this intel to Power.” As predicted, he assumed that task. “What else do you require from us?”
Drift’s female nudged his arm.
He processed her communication. “Is there any way to minimize our team’s fatalities?”
His captain frowned. “The humanoids have to be on site. If their roles are vacant, the Humanoid Alliance will become suspicious.”
“If they become suspicious, the enemy will block access to the weapon.” The site would be locked down.
“The Humanoid Alliance will react the same way if the humanoids leave their posts.” His captain tapped his chin with his index fingers. “The humanoids don’t have the speed to move outside of the blast’s range.” He looked at the rest of the crew stationed on the bridge. “What is the solution?”
Silence stretched.
Because there was no solution. There was no way to save the other members of the team.
Drift’s female must’ve reached that same conclusion. She drew a ragged breath.
That small hurting sound constricted his heart.
“The humanoids are in advanced stages of damage.” Cure’s tone was flat. “There’re no repairs for them. And soon, if it hasn’t occurred already, their pain will exceed the offset of any suppressors. They will die. Either instantly during the mission from the blast or mere planet rotations in the future from their existing damage.”
“A warrior would choose death from the blast.” The captain’s Valkyrie stated her choice.
“Any being would choose the blast.” Argot’s human female supported that decision. “It would be faster and, hopefully, less painful. It’s the kind choice.”
Captain’s head dipped. “Ensure they process they have the gratitude of our kind.”
“They have the gratitude of beings everywhere.” The captain’s Valkyrie amended her male’s statement.
“And tell them their sacrifice will never be forgotten.” Captain’s expression was solemn.
Cyborgs never forgot…anything or anyone. And they valued bravery.
The Cancris on Drift’s female’s team would live forever in the cyborg databases.
It was a small solace, but it was not nothing.
“Contact us if you require additional assistance.” Captain ended the communication.
The image on the main viewscreen reverted to that of the rock formation situated directly in front of the modified freighter.
“Come, my female.” Drift reached out and lifted his little human out of her chair. He set her on his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and drew her close to his body armor-clad chest.
“There’s no saving them.” The sadness surrounding his female’s words pulled at his soul. “I’m their leader, and they’ll die and I might live. That’s not right.”
“They’ll die.” Nothing could stop that fate from coming for them. The beings on her team would lose their lives. That was 99.9999 percent certain. “By recruiting them for our mission, you’re ensuring their deaths have purpose. It will have honor. They’ll defeat the Invaders.” He wielded her word for the Humanoid Alliance. “And they’ll save others of their kind. And my brethren will ensure their sacrifice is never forgotten.”
“That was kind of your captain,” she murmured against his body armor-covered chest.
“That wasn’t kindness from my captain.” He wouldn’t have her process that untruth. “It was respect. Cyborgs everywhere will revere your team. Forever.” He kissed the top of her head. “The stories of their courage, of their sacrifice, will be relayed to all offspring, to all genetic matches throughout the universe for all eternity.”
“They deserve to be revered.” His female sniffled. “They’re so fuckin’ brave.”
The Cancris on their team were like their leader in that way. Drift’s chest expanded with pride. His female was fearless.
“I expected to die with them.” Her confession was barely audible. “ They expected that. And I know I should die with them. But I can’t. I selfishly want to live. I want more planet rotations with you.”
“You’ll have endless planet rotations with me.” He made her that vow. Nothing would damage her. He would protect her with his lifespan. “And dying needlessly with your team would accomplish nothing positive. It won’t lessen their sacrifice. It won’t bring them back to life. All it’ll do is decrease the number of beings left in this universe to remember them. It will reduce the number of beings telling their stories by two.”
It would be reduced by two because he would die with his female. There was no him without her.
She was his genetic match, his future, his everything. He wouldn’t survive her death.
“My brain agrees with you.” His female sighed. “My heart is ravaged by guilt.”
“I process that.” Unable to project how else to ease her emotional damage, he held her. And he rubbed her flight suit-covered back, running his palms up and down, up and down her form.
She was soft and warm against him. Her scent filled his lungs. Their connection hummed in the air. What she felt, he now sensed. No additional words were needed.
Her sadness weighed upon him.
If he could, he would rev the modified freighter’s engines and fly with his female, far and fast from the hurt and the sorrow waiting for them on Cancri B.
But they had a mission to complete, a universe to save, and a destiny to fulfil.
“We’re both where we’re supposed to be.” He rested his chin on the top of her head.
They had to remain on the planet and fight for their future, their happiness, their forever.