STRIKE ZONE

CYNTHIA SAX

Strike Zone

Copyright 2024 Cynthia Sax

Cover Design by Amanda Kelsey at Razzle Dazzle Design

Discover more books by Cynthia Sax at her website

www.CynthiaSax.com

All Rights Are Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First edition: February 2024

For more information contact Cynthia Sax at

www.CynthiaSax.com

STRIKE ZONE

A cyborg devoted to duty…and to her.

* * *

While attending a party, Kesser, the daughter of her planet’s leader, witnesses the abduction of her best friend and her best friend’s mate.

She’s determined to rescue them. Preferably without fracturing the fragile peace agreement her mom has crafted with the abductors’ planet.

The only issue is…she has never participated in a retrieval mission.

Searching for assistance, she approaches the mate’s guard. The male, with his big broad shoulders and deep growly voice, affects her like no other being ever has.

Kesser wants him. She trusts him. And she requires his stealth combat skills.

Desperately.

Strike is no guard. The D Model cyborg has been sent to the sector to discreetly investigate a potential planet-destroying situation.

When a curvy human female with big brown eyes requests his help with a rescue, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes. She’s his genetic match, the one being he was manufactured to protect.

She’s also traveling to the next planet he has to search. He plans to claim his female while he fulfills his responsibilities to his kind.

Neither Strike nor Kesser realizes the dangers facing them are far greater than they imagine. Their enemies are converging, and one failed mission could doom the entire universe.

* * *

Strike Zone is a standalone, mistaken-identity, Cyborg SciFi Romance set in a dark, gritty, sometimes-violent universe.

It features a cyborg warrior with a finely honed sense of honor, a human support being taking on her first dangerous mission, and an evil that threatens everyone in existence.

Strike Zone is the first of five core stories in the Dauntless Cyborgs Series.

Book 1: Strike Zone

Book 2: Drift Would

Book 3: Claiming Cure

Book 4: Grid Locked

Book 5: Her Choice

CHAPTER ONE

Strike was second-in-command on a battle station that was now on secondary patrol along the most-isolated section of the cyborg sector’s border.

Being second meant waiting.

He fully embraced that state. There was no urgency in his processors or organic brain to gain control of a vessel.

Becoming a captain had never been a motivating goal for him. It was merely the path he’d stepped onto when he’d followed Intrepid, his current captain, to the Dauntless.

That male had helped to orchestrate his escape from the Humanoid Alliance, their cruel manufacturers. Intrepid had earned his full loyalty.

Strike would do anything for him. And, as second-in-command, he served his captain as best as he could. He protected Intrepid, the beings under the male’s leadership, and the battle station Intrepid commanded, constantly surveying the space around them for danger. He solved problems.

And he monitored the mood of the crew.

At the moment, the mood was one of extreme restlessness. The excess energy on the bridge was palpable.

Grid, their navigator, was especially impacted by it.

We should test the Dauntless’s shields. The chaos-loving male shared that suggestion through the officer-transmission lines.

Captain was excluded from those communications.

We’ve already tested our shields. Drift, their pilot, pointed out that truth. They passed that test.

We tested them with dummy missiles. Grid countered. We should test them now with fully functional missiles.

All the officers on the bridge, including Strike, turned their heads and simply stared at the male.

You want to shoot fully functional missiles at our battle station? Drift laughed. Are your systems damaged, warrior?

My systems are fully functional. Grid’s tone was serious. We’ll aim at the Dauntless’s wings. The potential for damage will be minimized.

But there would be damage. Strike stressed that fact. And the probability another part of the battle station will be hit by the missiles isn’t zero.

Cyborgs were skilled warriors. They weren’t infallible.

You’ll kill us all. Drift was less tactful.

We only risk death if our shields fail. Grid wasn’t backing down.

That’s not comforting, Argot, their communications officer, muttered.

The male’s human female sat next to him. She was the daughter of the Valkyrie, Captain’s genetic match.

Are all navigators like this? Choice, their engineer and newest member of the team, glanced at Strike.

Grid is…unique. Strike had met less-extreme beings holding that role on other ships.

His processors must be overclocked. Cure, their medic, pointed a handheld at Grid. But I can’t detect any variances from spec.

I’m not damaged. Grid waved his arms.

Captain’s head lifted. He gazed at the male. “Is the cause of your agitation a threat to the Dauntless, to its crew, or to the rest of the sector?”

“No.” Grid frowned.

“Yes.” Every other officer said that at the same time.

Captain’s female’s lips twitched. The Valkyrie was seated by their leader. Her left hand and Captain’s right hand were hidden under the console.

Strike suspected their fingers were linked. Physical contact was soothing to cyborgs and their genetic matches.

He didn’t process that from his own experience. Strike hadn’t located the one being he was fabricated to bond with, care for, protect.

And he projected he would never find them.

His lifespan would be devoted to safeguarding others, including his captain. And battling to maintain the peace on board the Dauntless and in the cyborg sector. “Requesting authorization to plan another mock battle, Captain.”

Pick me as one of the leads. Pick me. The mock battle, as Strike projected, distracted Grid.

“Authorization granted, Second.” Captain’s gaze didn’t shift from the navigator. “What is the threat?”

Strike silently groaned.

“There’s no threat, Captain.” Cyborgs couldn’t lie. That was written into their programming. Grid projected…incorrectly…they wouldn’t face any danger as a result of his bizarre plan. “Requesting authorization to test our shields, utilizing fully functional missiles.”

“You want to erect a shield around some space debris and fire missiles at it?” Intrepid narrowed his eyes at Grid.

The male tilted his head to the side. “That’s one option.”

“If your plan is to shoot missiles at the Dauntless and place everyone on board in peril, that request is denied.” Captain frowned.

Olrun’s shoulders shook. The captain’s Valkyrie was holding in her laughter. She didn’t process, as Strike did, that shooting missiles at their battle station was Grid’s plan.

“My plan now is to erect a shield around some space debris and fire missiles at it.” Their navigator appeared content with that modification.

“I projected that was your plan.” Intrepid nodded. “Engineering will assist with that project. Choice?”

“I’ll assist him, Captain.” The kid lifted his chin.

Their leader dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Strike, organize two more mock battles.”

“Organizing two more mock battles, Captain.” Strike wouldn’t participate in either of them.

He trained. His fighting skills had to be honed to ensure he could physically protect the beings around him. But he derived no joy from mock killing others.

Others felt differently about the events.

Pick me as one of the leaders. Grid resumed his campaigning.

Strike would give him that honor. “The teams will be led by⁠—”

Captain held up his right hand. That was a signal for silence.

A strange sound pulsed through the bridge.

Strike couldn’t process how Captain had heard it first but their leader often detected danger before others did.

“What’s that noise?” Intrepid looked at them for input.

Strike had no projection of its cause. He skimmed his hands over the control panel embedded in the console before him. There were no indications of any issues on board the battle station.

No one else spoke.

“What’s the status of our systems?” Intrepid looked at Choice.

“All systems are operating within spec, Captain.” The kid looked down at his control panel also.

“The sound isn’t originating from our communications systems, Captain.” Argot verified that fact.

“It isn’t impacting the Dauntless’s flight.” Drift, their pilot, kept the battle station on course.

Cure, their medic, raised his handheld. “The sound has triggered threat responses in us, but there are no other signs of damage to our forms.”

Strike ran noise-level scans on the entire vessel. “It’s loudest on the right side of the battle station.” That side faced the border. The border they vowed to protect. He shifted his weight from his left booted foot to his right booted foot. “Requesting authorization to modify the Dauntless’s trajectory 90 degrees to the west.”

“That path is clear, Captain.” Grid relayed information Strike already processed.

“Authorization granted.” Their leader didn’t hesitate to take his suggestion. That pleased Strike. “Drift, adjust your course.”

“Adjusting our course, Captain.” Their pilot made that modification.

Strike performed another set of noise-level scans. “The sound is now loudest at the front of the Dauntless.”

“It’s originating from outside the vessel.” Captain tapped his chin with his right index finger. “And also from outside the sector.”

That meant it was outside their responsibility.

“Is it a distress call?” Cure placed one of his hands on the medic pack set on the console before him. The male was prepared to respond to any request for assistance.

“If it’s a distress call, it’s unlike any I’ve ever heard.” Argot shook his head.

“It resembles…” Strike searched the databases for a corresponding sound.

“What does it resemble?” Intrepid gazed at him. “Give me your best projection.”

“There’s no exact match, but the variance to this is merely 2.1258 percent.” Strike played the audio recording.

Captain listened to it and then nodded. “That was my projection also.” Their leader recognized the sound.

As did every cyborg on the bridge. A solemness fell over the space.

“I can’t hear anything.” Argot’s female’s forehead furrowed.

“The frequency is above a human’s range,” the Valkyrie, her chosen mother, explained. “And it resembles the sound of an activated world-ender.” Captain’s female had lived longer than any of them and had fought battles all over the universe. She had identified the partial match. “The pulsing is coming from a weapon.”

“If it’s a weapon, it’s a different type.” Strike didn’t have enough inputs to label the source of the noise.

Choice, their engineer, nodded. “A 2.1258 variance is significant.”

“We’re being hailed by the Nimble, Captain.” Argot relayed that development.

The Nimble was the primary patrol battle station assigned to their section of border.

“Open communications.” Captain shifted in his chair.

The image of Requisite, the captain of the Nimble, appeared on the main viewscreen. “We’ve detected a pulsating sound. Have you detected it also?”

“We’ve detected it.” Intrepid shared that information with the male. “It’s originating from the border. The closest match in the databases is a world-ender.”

Requisite’s lips flattened. “That’s…not optimal.” A world-ender or equivalent weapon was a threat to everyone inside their sector. Not optimal was an understatement. “The Cyborg Council has to be informed.”

“A plan of action should accompany that communication.” The Dauntless’s captain gazed at the male. “What do you propose?”

“We both process you already have a plan of action, Intrepid.” Requisite rolled his eyes.

“The Dauntless is secondary patrol.” It irked Strike’s pride that their captain had to say that.

“The Nimble’s directive is to deal with any issues along the border.” The other captain pushed back. “This situation, whatever it is, isn’t presently situated along that border.” He paused. “Allow us to focus on our directive, and take the lead on this, my friend. We’ll back you on any decisions you make, and we’ll be here to lend support.”

“We’ll keep you informed.” Their captain’s shoulders lowered slightly. “Ending communications.”

The image on the main viewscreen reverted to the openness of space. The pulsing didn’t stop.

Finally, we have a task to complete, Grid said that over the officer-transmission line.

We have the shield testing. Choice was refreshingly enthusiastic about that assignment.

That’s a safe manufactured task. Safe never appealed to Grid. This involves real danger.

That danger could lead to death. And Strike, as the Dauntless’s second-in-command, shouldn’t cheer for anything leading to a possible loss of lifespan.

But he secretly rejoiced in having a sense of purpose also.

“Open a communication line with Power.” Captain’s voice was scrubbed of all emotion.

Strike processed him well enough to project one of those emotions was distaste. Their leader and Power weren’t often in accord.

“Opening a communication line with Power, Captain.” Argot repeated that command.

An image of Power’s countenance was displayed on the main viewscreen.

“I contact you. You don’t contact me.” The male was an arrogant ass, and he didn’t try to hide it.

Strike’s lips flattened. His loyalty was given to Captain and to his fellow cyborgs, not to the Cyborg Council and its leader.

“A sound has been detected.” Captain played the audio. “It originates outside the cyborg sector. Requesting authorization to send a team to investigate it.”

“If it originates outside the sector, it isn’t our responsibility.” Power dismissed the threat.

“There’re no matches to it in our databases.” Captain wasn’t deterred. “But it does have a 97.8742 percent similarity to the sound a world-ender emits.” He shared that audio clip. “If it’s a new type of weapon and it’s situated this close to our borders…”

The implication was clear. They were all in danger.

Power pursed his lips.

Silence stretched.

“You’ll send one warrior. One.” Power stressed that number. “To investigate the sound.”

Captain opened his mouth.

“This will be a covert operation.” Power added parameters to the mission. “The warrior is not to attract attention. He’s to uncover as much as he can about the weapon and the beings operating it and then give me a full report. He is not to interact directly with those beings or give them any indication we’re aware of the weapon’s existence. Do you process?”

“I process.” Captain nodded.

Strike processed the reason for those orders also. The enemy would falsely project their secret weapon hadn’t been detected, and that would make it easier to destroy it and them.

Intel was often the difference between winning and losing in war.

“Ending communications.” Power tapped his fingers against the screen.

His countenance disappeared from view.

“I volunteer to investigate the sound, Captain.” Grid’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“You’re testing our shields.” Captain reminded him of that earlier commitment. “That’s too important a task to delegate to another warrior.”

Fraggin’ hole. Their navigator cursed through the officer-transmission lines. I didn’t project there’d be a more exciting assignment available this soon.

You’ve been trapped by your own chaos. Drift laughed.

“This mission will be led by our second-in-command.” Captain granted Strike that honor.

“Thank you, Captain.” Exhilaration rushed through Strike’s circuits. He would be gathering intel that could protect every being in the cyborg sector.

This is the kind of high-profile assignment that results in a second-in-command receiving his own ship. Captain relayed that aside through a private transmission line.

I won’t let you down, Captain. Strike had 0.0000 doubt around that. He had never failed to complete an assignment.

I process you won’t. Captain’s tone held as much certainty. “You require a vessel.” He looked at his female. “A warship would be too noticeable.”

“Warships are created for war.” The Valkyrie agreed with him. “As are your kind. Beings will assume your second-in-command is there for a battle.”

“Utilize one of the modified freighters.” Captain chose the vessel Strike projected he’d select.

Freighters were common transport ships. Weapons had been added to the cyborg-piloted freighters. That firepower was hidden on the vessels’ frames. Other modifications included increases in top speeds and an expansion of their monitoring ranges.

“Stock it with any weapons and other supplies you require.” There was no need for Captain to state specifics. It wasn’t Strike’s first mission. “Leave as soon as you’re able.”

Strike stood. “I’ll depart within the shift, Captain.”

“If you were going into battle, I’d tell you to fight hard, warrior.” The Valkyrie smiled at him.

“Fight only when necessary.” Captain cautioned him.

That was unnecessary information. He had heard Power’s instructions. “I’ll be covert.”

You’re a lucky bag of bolts. Grid’s transmission was edged with envy.

I could die. Strike was aware of the risks. If he was discovered by an enemy, his lifespan could end.

Assuming he didn’t defeat that foe.

He was a skilled fighter, both on the ground and in the sky. The probability of losing a skirmish was low.

But it wasn’t zero.

We’re aware of your good fortune, warrior. Their navigator sighed. The risk of dying was an attractant for most cyborgs, not a deterrent.

You deserve that good fortune. Argot defended him. Communicate with us when you’re able.

I’ll do that. Strike stalked off the bridge.

He passed brethren as he navigated through the hallways.

If anyone can uncover the source of the sound, it’s our second-in-command.

Leave some enemies for us.

Return in one piece, warrior. The males stationed off the bridge were as confident in his abilities as his fellow officers were.

Strike would strive to be worthy of that support. His shoulders squared.

He entered the docking bay.

There was a flurry of activity around one of the modified freighters.

“Captain said you’d be arriving.” Repercussion bumped against him. The male was stationed in loading. “You should take this with you, Second.” He handed Strike a missile launcher. “It’s a duplicate of Captain’s female’s weapon. I modified it myself. It took me fifteen planet rotations to do that properly.”

The Valkyrie was noted for having exceptional weapons. Strike juggled the missile launcher from his right hand to his left hand and back again. It had some heft to it. “I can’t take it, warrior. It’s yours.”

“I’ll modify another one.” Repercussion shrugged. “When you use it on the enemy, process that you’re not alone. Your brethren are with you.”

Cyborgs, especially D models like Strike, weren’t manufactured to operate on their own.

It was a struggle to suck back his emotions. “I’ll process that.” Strike’s voice was gruff. “Protect the Dauntless and Captain while I’m gone, warrior.”

“No damage will come to him.” Repercussion stated that with the solemness of a vow.

“I stocked you with nourishment bars, Second.” Yum slid a container into the cargo hold of the modified freighter. He was in charge of nourishment procurement. “Pirx berry-flavored, your favorite.”

“That’s appreciated.” Strike looked into the storage space.

“Beverage was also loaded.” The male waved one of his hands at those supplies.

Cyborgs didn’t require their liquids to be replenished. The beverage would only be required if he encountered a fully organic being.

That was unlikely. But… “It’s logical to be prepared for any situation.”

“That’s what I projected.” Yum’s head bobbed. “You can’t process what you’ll be facing out there. We hear rumors about this stretch of the border.”

Strike had heard the stories also.

There were tales of large creatures flying through space, of ships that disappeared with no explanation—never to be seen again, of debris fields that resembled asteroid belts, and other unusual activity.

He had to be prepared for anything.

“Homeland sent us some life-form-scan-blocking cloaks.” Those cloaks would be dangerous to don in the air. A freighter with no life-forms on it had a high probability of being shot out of space. But the garments might be beneficial once he landed on a planet’s surface.

“Two cloaks have been placed in the pack with the flight suits.” Repercussion transmitted a list of the items stored in the cargo hold to Strike.

“There’re excessive flight suits.” Strike didn’t require garments in every available size.

“It’s logical to be prepared for any situation.” Repercussion repeated what Strike had told Yum. “Warriors find genetic matches on missions.” His eyes twinkled with humor.

Yum and the other warriors situated around them nodded.

The probability he’d locate his genetic match on his current mission was 3.4588 percent. He would be focused on gathering intel about the potential threat to their kind.

But saying that would accomplish nothing except damage the males’ emotional systems. They hoped to, some planet rotation, locate their genetic matches while on missions also.

Strike chose not to address the comment. “I require five more handhelds.” He’d modify them to better track the pulsing sound.

A warrior rushed to retrieve the devices.

While those were loaded, Strike planned his mission in his processors. His assignment could be key to his kind’s survival.

Nothing could be left to variability.

CHAPTER TWO

The vocal and the high-profile beings might receive all of the attention and most of the recognition.

But support beings quietly and effectively ran the universe.

Kesser knew that truth better than anyone else.

She stood by the podium as her mom, the Global Minister of Syndiculous 5, gave a rousing speech about the benefits of the newly wrought peace agreement with Powlus Zetus, their nearest planetary neighbor.

To most of the beings in the audience, Kesser was merely their beloved leader’s daughter and sole family member. If asked, they would likely say her duties included nodding and smiling and nothing much else.

They didn’t know Kesser had written most of her mom’s speech or that she had given her input on the peace agreement they were celebrating, or that she was now silently rejoicing that with the increased prosperity of the planet due to the now-unobstructed intergalactic shipment lanes, her mom’s reelection was practically guaranteed.

And Kesser liked it that way. She didn’t have to be appreciated by everyone.

The speech ended. The audience cheered.

Her mom turned her head and met Kesser’s gaze.

That was the only acknowledgment she needed.

She smiled at her mom and nodded. The delivery of the speech had been perfect. The words had resounded with the crowd. It had been a success.

Her mom smiled back at her. Her shoulders lowered ever-so-slightly, and she returned her attention to her audience.

Beings waited to chatter with their leader.

Her mom walked through the crowd, touching fingertips and exchanging words. Guards hovered around her at a respectful distance.

Kesser followed them. She refused to have guards protecting her, much to her mom’s aggravation. A security detail would bring too much attention to her.

And she relished her freedom.

Beings called out to her.

She didn’t stop.

It was her mom’s moment. Kesser’s task was to redirect attention to her parent, where it deserved to be. Her mom had worked hard for the peace agreement. She warranted the applause.

Kesser entered the waiting land transport. The doors closed behind her.

Her mom patted the empty seat beside her.

Kesser claimed that space. “They loved the speech.”

“Fates. They should love the speech. You wrote it.” Pride warmed her mom’s voice. “And you’re right. It felt wrong not to honor the dead.”

“We didn’t have that option.” Originally, the speech had mentioned the fallen.

But then the manufacturing facility, their host, had not-so-casually mentioned they wanted the speech to be about the future, not the past. There was to be no talk of hardship or sacrifice.

Kesser and her mom had been forced to cut that part.

“It should have been an option.” Her mom put her arm around Kesser’s shoulders. “This peace agreement saved lifespans. That’s much more important than the improvement of trade between our planets.”

“There were very few deaths on our side.” Kesser understood why Syndiculs sought to put the long-running war behind them. It hadn’t impacted many of them directly.

The battles had been held first in space and then on Powlus Zetus. Their kind had fought their foes remotely using robots and other technology. They’d had the wealth to do that.

The Powluks hadn’t been as fortunate.

“It shouldn’t matter which side those deaths were on.” Her mom sighed. “We’re all beings. We all grieve.”

The two of them knew about loss. Kesser’s dad, the love of her mom’s life, had died in a ship malfunction when Kesser had four solar cycles.

They had viewed every death, Powluk or the rare Syndicul, as inflicting that level of pain, of trauma on other beings. That had pushed them to work tirelessly to arrange the peace agreement.

“I know you prevented more deaths.” Kesser squeezed her mom’s hand. “For what that’s worth.”

“That’s worth everything.” Her mom’s eyes glowed. “You know that.”

She did know that.

It had been the two of them for most of Kesser’s lifespan. They were a team.

When her mom had campaigned to increase ship safety, Kesser had helped her. It took solar cycles of hard work, but they were finally successful.

Those changes had decreased the possibility other beings would die like her dad had. And it had started her mom on her path to planet leadership.

“Why is the transport slowing?” Her mom frowned as she gazed out a portal.

“I arranged to be dropped off at Talley’s.” It had been a long planet rotation, and Kesser was tired. She preferred to continue home. But her best friend required help with a task she refused to talk about over their devices. “You said you didn’t need me for the credit managers’ nourishment-sharing event you have scheduled next.”

“Chattering with Talley will be much more interesting for you than attending that.” Her mom didn’t enjoy the meetings with the planet’s credit managers either. She’d shared with Kesser that it was a necessary but unexciting occurrence. “I was hoping we’d have a few more moments.”

The sadness in her mom’s voice increased Kesser’s guilt. “We’ll have sunrise nourishment together.” They always shared that time.

Her busy mom made that a priority.

“You can hitch a ride with me to your role also.” Her mom’s unhappiness faded. “I’m going in that direction.”

Kesser’s role consisted of organizing databases at an academy. It earned her credits, and it gave her the flexibility the daughter of a planet’s leader needed. But it lacked…meaning. She doubted the universe would change at all if her role was eliminated.

“I won’t say no to a shared ride.” She grinned

The transport stopped.

“Have fun at your credit-managers’ event.” Kesser opened the door.

“Don’t ask the impossible from me.” Her mom shook her head.

Kesser laughed and exited the small ship.

Talley, being unmerged as Kesser was, lived in her dad’s domicile. He was the planet’s Minister of Defense, and the structure resembled a military compound.

It was surrounded by high walls. Every expanse of the area was covered with simulated stone. The domicile was massive, had bars on its portals, and there were guards everywhere.

Kesser approached the gate.

Two males in body armor stood in front of it. They clutched long guns.

That was unnecessary. Syndiculous 5 was no longer at war with anyone. There was no danger to any of the inhabitants present.

“Identification, being.” Dave, the tallest guard, frowned down at her.

“Dave, you know who I am.” She extracted her handheld from her pocket and bumped it against the male’s device. “I’m the being who gifted you an entire container of specially crafted nourishment bars during our last harvest celebration.”

She was also the daughter of Syndiculous 5’s leader. Everyone recognized her.

“I’m following protocol.” Dave looked around them and lowered his voice “Those nourishment bars were delicious. My partner won’t stop talking about them.”

Kesser lifted onto the toes of her boots and whispered, “I thought she’d like them.”

Jorge, the other guard, cleared his throat.

The tips of Dave’s ears turned red. “You have access.”

The gates parted.

Kesser sauntered past that layer of security. Recording devices were installed around the domicile. They were pointed at the thin lifeless band of simulated-stone-covered space between the structure and the gates.

The home she shared with her mom had greenery and blooms and other vegetation around it.

Talley’s dad preferred a different look.

The doors to the structure swung open. “Kess.” Talley grabbed her arm and pulled her inside the home. “You’re finally here. What took you so long?”

Kesser frowned. They’d talked about that. “I had Mom’s speech to attend, and⁠—”

“That’s not important.” Talley dragged her through the entryway. “You’re here now.”

Kesser walked faster to keep up with her friend. “What’s going on, Talley?”

Talley looked over her shoulder. Then she met Kesser’s gaze. Later, she mouthed. And she pushed Kesser down the hallway.

Kesser inwardly groaned. The last time, her rebellious friend behaved like she was acting now, she was Fates-bent on attending a peace protest, a highly publicized event that her warmonger dad later very loudly condemned, calling all the participants traitors.

Thanks to Kesser, he didn’t know the two beings in hooded cloaks at the edge of the recorded crowd were his daughter and her reluctantly participating friend.

Kesser’s mom would likely have approved of their participation. Even though it would’ve brought her parent unwelcome criticism during a critical time in her leadership.

But Talley’s dad wasn’t as understanding.

Or peace-loving.

They finally reached Talley’s private chambers. The doors closed behind them.

“I’m in love.” Talley flopped backward on her sleeping support.

That was the emergency? Her friend was always in love.

“Who is he…or she this planet rotation?” Kesser lay beside Talley.

She suspected whoever the being was, they were already in love with her friend also.

Talley was sweet and charming and beautiful. She had big blue eyes. At the moment, her long blonde hair was tinged with blue also. And she was tiny. Her fragile-appearance brought out the protective instincts in everyone.

Including Kesser. She would die for her friend.

“He’s big and strong and passionate, Kess.” Talley clutched her chest. “Such a hunky hunk. We met a solar cycle, three planet rotations, and one shift ago, and we both knew instantly the Fates had spoken. We were meant to be together.”

“A solar cycle, three planet rotations, and one shift ago.” Kesser reviewed her mental schedule. She’d spent her childhood tracking her mom’s events and had applied that skill to her own. “You were with me that entire shift. We were at that secret meeting…”

A chill swept through her.

“Tell me he’s a Syndicul.” She turned on her side and gazed at Talley.

“He’s not a Syndicul.” Her friend stared dreamily up at the ceiling.

Oh fuck. “Then he’s from one of the neutral planets.”

That wasn’t good. Talley’s dad viewed every non-Syndicul with suspicion. But it could be worse.

“He’s not from one of the neutral planets.” Talley shredded that hope.

Her wild friend had chosen the one type of being her dad would never approve of—a Powluk, one of their former enemies.

“Talley…” Kesser didn’t know what to say.

“It’s love, Kess. It’s meant to be.” Talley reached over and retrieved her handheld. “And don’t say it’s a passing thing. It’s been over a solar cycle, and I love him as much…no, more than I did then.” She tapped her fingertips against the device. “Look at him. How can I not love him? He’s such a great green hunk of a male.”

The image on the tiny screen reflected a fully mature Powluk male in battle armor. His skin was green. He had sharp tusks protruding from the edges of his lips. His nose was flatter than a human’s. He was built like a door.

And he also looked familiar. “Is that…?”

“That’s Tsadok.” Talley caressed the screen.

“That’s Second Zetus Tsadok, their future leader.” Kesser struggled to contain her dismay. “Talley, our kind killed millions of his kind. They’ll never accept you as their leader’s partner.”

“That’s in the past.” Her friend’s jaw jutted. “The war’s over. And we’re in love. He said he would battle every being in the universe to claim me.” She looked at Kesser. “Isn’t that romantic?”

“It’s certainly something.” Kesser pinched the bridge of her nose. “Is he on the planet?”

“No.” Talley eased that fear. “I haven’t seen him since that first planet rotation. We communicate through this.” She lifted her handheld. “But he’s working on a way to get here. And Kess, I need your help. Because my dad can’t know I’m meeting with him. He…he wouldn’t react well.”

That was the understatement of the solar cycle. “Your dad will always view Tsadok’s kind as the enemy.”

“He doesn’t know Tsadok.” Talley said that as though that would make a difference to her dad.

It wouldn’t alter his view. Nothing did.

Talley’s dad was as unmoving as a mountain.

Kesser’s expression must’ve conveyed her doubt.

Because her friend shrugged. “I don’t care what my dad thinks.” Her jaw jutted. “I can’t remember the last time he has asked me…anything about myself. My dad doesn’t know me. He issues orders and leaves.”

Talley’s relationship with her dad was as bad as Kesser’s relationship with her mom was good.

Kesser didn’t envy her friend.

“And the Fates have spoken.” Talley gazed at the small screen. “My destiny is entwined with my big green hunk’s.”

Many beings on Syndiculous 5, including Talley, believed three deities, called the Fates, decided everyone’s future.

Kesser thought that was an excuse to rationalize rash actions.

Like merging with a male their violence-embracing dad would, without hesitation, shoot on sight.

“I don’t know about this, Talley.” Kesser grimaced.

“What’s there to know about?” Her friend rolled her eyes. “It’s only a meeting, Kess. It’s not like we’re running away together.”

Oh fuck. Her friend wouldn’t have mentioned that alternative if she hadn’t been thinking about it.

“Running away together would be disrespectful to the Fates.” Kesser crafted her response carefully. One wrongly wielded word would push her rebellious friend into doing something rash. “You’re meant to be together. The Fates’ll provide a means to do that, one that will bring joy not only to the two of you but also to your families.”

Talley pursed her lips.

“The Fates brought you together.” Kesser reminded her. “We have to trust they’ll reveal a way for you to stay together.”

“We are meant to be together.” Her friend looked at the male’s image again. “And we don’t want to anger the Fates.”

“No running away together.” Kesser prompted.

“No running away together.” Talley sighed.

Kesser relaxed.

Her friend was reckless, but she kept her vows. That specific disaster had been averted.

“But I do want to see him. Soon.” Talley’s voice was wistful. Her friend was in deep emotional bonding with the male. “You’ll help us with the meeting?”

“When have I ever not helped you?” Kesser pushed away her remaining trepidations and grinned at her friend.

“That’s true.” Talley hugged her. “I can always count on you. You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend also.” Kesser loved her like she imagined beings loved their sisters. “How soon is this meeting happening?”

“We thought we’d meet during The Guidance.” Her friend returned her gaze to Tsadok’s image. “Everyone will be wearing hooded cloaks. Their faces will be hidden, and it lasts three planet rotations. There are plenty of events to attend. My dad will expect me to go out…with you.”

And while they were out, her friend would meet with Tsadok. “Then we have forty-two planet rotations to plan this.” Kesser could work within that time frame.

The Guidance was a celebration of the power of the Fates. Beings hid their identities and temporarily shed their responsibilities. That was meant to better allow those deities to push them in the direction of their destinies.

In reality, it resulted in quite a few illicit encounters and the drinking of too much fermented beverage.

“You’re a good planner.” Talley stated that truth.

Kesser was a good planner. She’d learned from the best—her mom. One didn’t become the leader of an entire planet by not planning.

“I’ll miss you when I go live on Powlus Zetus with Tsadok.” Her friend put her head on Kesser’s shoulder.

“I’ll miss you too.” Kesser would think about that when it happened.

Talley fell in love like some beings changed garments.

Though she had liked her current male for over a solar cycle. Kesser chewed on her bottom lip. That was concerning.

Talley lifted her head. “You could fall in love with one of Tsadok’s hunky warriors.” Excitement edged her voice. “You like green. They’re green.”

She did like green. Kesser ran her hands over her green flight suit.

“And you have their kind’s ideal female shape.” Talley paused. “Tsadok prefers my shape but he’s unique.”

“Powluks value strength.” Kesser’s tone was dry. They were a warrior species. “They want a female who can throw a battle ax. Not a female who looks like she ate too many nourishment bars.”

She was curvy. All over.

“They like big breasts.” Talley patted her much-smaller chest. “And they like wide hips.”

That might be true, but Kesser didn’t merely want to be liked.

She wanted to be loved. With wild desperate abandon. She wanted what her parents had. Before tragedy struck.

It was doubtful that brand of adoration, that level of all engulfing passion was her destiny.

Support beings didn’t inspire those types of fervent emotions.

“Let’s focus on your upcoming meeting with your Tsadok.” She redirected her friend’s attention to her own love life.

“I’ll finally see him again, Kess.” Talley shook with excitement.

Kesser had never seen her friend as happy as she was now. She had to admit that maybe, maybe Talley’s feelings for the Powluk were different than they had been for the other males and females.

Which meant it wouldn’t be the only secret meeting she’d have to arrange.

Kesser blew out her breath. That was a concern for the future. “Tell me which event you want to meet during.” She would arrange to receive invitations for all of them under her name.

That shouldn’t be a challenge for her.

There were advantages to being the daughter of the planet’s leader.

CHAPTER THREE

A cyborg was never truly alone.

Transmissions from millions of Strike’s brethren flowed through his processors as he flew the modified freighter in the direction of the pulsing sound.

The noise remained at a frequency most humans and humanoids couldn’t hear. That could have been intentional. If it was emitted by a weapon, the wielders of that device wouldn’t want their enemies to easily detect its presence.

They also wouldn’t want anyone to uncover the weapon’s coordinates.

Strike didn’t yet have enough inputs to make that projection.

He programmed the guidance system to modify its trajectory to constantly maximize the intensity of the sound, and he scanned the space in front of his ship for any planets or vessels or other objects that crossed his path.

Information on the sector had been pulled from numerous disconnected databases and then cross-referenced and pieced together.

The space was controlled by multiple organizations and individuals. The data they’d gathered was disorganized and incomplete.

Strike wrinkled his nose in distaste.

That made navigating through the sector much more challenging. A star was detected to the west of his ship that didn’t appear on any of the collected charts. He added it to his own.

It irked him that he didn’t process that star’s name. But he noted its size, brightness, and other characteristics, and those were more specs than he previously had.

His ship approached a massive debris field. It stretched across the entire range of his monitoring system. All of that wreckage flowed in one direction. According to his life-form scans, it was devoid of life.

He hadn’t seen any large creatures flying through space. His ship had, fortunately, not disappeared. But one of the stories told about the sector appeared to have been based on truth.

The debris field did resemble an asteroid belt.

Strike activated his shields and guided the modified freighter through the space. The small bits of wreckage were bumped out of the way. He avoided the larger pieces.

The debris field was devoid of organic life, yet it wasn’t static. Robots detached engines from a split-into-two warship. Those valuable parts were strapped to floating containers.

Someone must be planning to recover those containers in the future.

And, as the robots appeared to be specifically modified for part collection, that someone projected there would be sufficient wreckage to salvage to justify that effort.

Now. And in the future.

As Strike progressed, his unease intensified. The partially destroyed ships varied in shapes and models, but they all had the same type of damage.

It was consistent with explosives.

They had been blown up.

The debris field wasn’t safe. Strike now viewed it as a war zone.

He slowed his speed and armed his weapons system. As he flew, he monitored the space for life-forms and functional ships.

His right index finger hovered over the controls. He was prepared to shoot, to fight the not-yet-processable threat.

That threat wasn’t identified. There was no activity.

He approached the edge of the debris field.

A reckless being might have increased his speed.

Strike wasn’t that individual. He moved his modified freighter forward slowly.

Its engines strained ever-so-slightly. The vessel was facing resistance from a space current or an unprocessable source.

That explained why the debris was arranged in a row. It had been pushed in that direction.

His monitoring systems detected blips of energy situated beyond the debris.

He peered up at the main viewscreen. The sources of those blips weren’t visible.

Strike zoomed in on one small area, enlarging the image.

Fraggin’ hole. He stiffened with alarm. Tiny space mines dotted the space before his ship. There were too many to avoid. He couldn’t maneuver around them.

The most skilled pilot in the universe couldn’t accomplish that feat.

The debris field was a trap designed to provide the being responsible for fabricating it with a never-ending supply of salvage material.

He truly was traveling in a sector with no rules, with no illusion of safety.

There were no warriors, no cyborgs protecting the territory. Every being operating within it was responsible for their own safety.

Utilizing all his guns, Strike locked onto multiple space mines and fired. The explosions lit up the darkness of space. The tiny devices were obliterated.

Satisfaction flowed through him as he continued to fire. The space mines wouldn’t be damaging any additional ships in the future.

He was making the sector and the universe a safer place.

That pleased him.

His modified freighter passed through the danger zone without additional incident. Strike slowed and then stopped the missile assault.

A small survey ship appeared on the far edges of his monitoring range behind him. Blowing up the space mines must have triggered a response from its owners.

Strike increased his speed. Unless the other ship had also extended their monitoring range, they shouldn’t detect his vessel.

But he was taking no chances. He prepared for a possible battle.

His fingers remained positioned over the controls.

Moments passed.

He flew farther and farther away from the wreckage site.

The survey ship was no longer detectable by his monitoring systems. There was no other movement around his vessel.

No one had followed him.

Strike lowered his shields. They sucked energy from the engines, and there was now only open space in front of his modified freighter.

He didn’t relax. Not fully.

A sector sporting debris-field ambushes and unrecorded stars wasn’t a place for anyone to decrease caution. He leaned back in his chair.

Fortunately, cyborgs didn’t require sleep. He inserted a cable into one of his wrist sockets.

Strike could stay on the bridge and maintain a high level of alertness for shifts, planet rotations, solar cycles if that was necessary.

That last duration shouldn’t be necessary.

The greater the distance sound traveled, the more powerful its source had to be.

There were limits to the energy that could be harnessed by beings. Which meant there were limits to the distance he’d have to travel to find its origins.

His journey should end long before the solar cycle did.

* * *

Twenty-six planet rotations later, Strike continued to follow the pulsing sound deeper and deeper into the sector.

He temporarily changed direction to avoid any ships that appeared on his monitoring systems. Then he returned to his original trajectory.

Unexpected planets and stars were added to his consolidated chart. He passed more ship wreckage. Two hundred and nine instances of it. But there weren’t any additional traps intentionally laid for unwary travelers.

Strike noted all the information he gathered about the sound he was investigating. It seemed to be traveling in a straight line. His guidance system hadn’t modified his path since he’d originally set it.

But he couldn’t yet project where the sound originated. It didn’t lower in volume consistently corresponding to the distance he traveled.

As he flew, he communicated with his brethren over the transmission lines.

They all had theories about the noise. Many projected it was the hum of a weapon.

Drift, being a pilot, mused that it could be sourced from a new type of ship.

Grid relayed it could be powering a form of intergalactic transport.

The likelihood of that being the cause was 0.2569 percent. But that wasn’t zero. Some beings were working on projects to shorten the travel time between distant planets.

Then, 35.5689 percent of the way into the second shift, the sound abruptly stopped.

What happened? Captain sent that query through a private transmission line.

I can’t project what has happened, Captain. Strike frowned. He didn’t have any answers for the male, and that unsettled him. I haven’t yet uncovered the origin of the sound.

He transmitted the little information he did have.

You have the trajectory. That should be sufficient to track it. Captain’s tone warmed with approval.

He hadn’t failed completely. Strike’s shoulders lowered. Requesting permission to land on inhabitable planets along the route and listen to the locals’ chatter, Captain. They might have intel pertaining to the sound.

Authorization granted. Captain accepted his plan. That’s a solid strategy, Second. The locals might also process if something large is being fabricated in their sector.

I’ll access their databases. He was a cyborg. That wouldn’t be a challenge for him.

Communicate when you uncover any significant information. Captain ended the transmission.

He assumed Strike would uncover significant information.

Strike’s chin lifted. He wouldn’t fail his captain.

* * *

Eight planet rotations passed. The pulsing sound didn’t recommence.

Strike’s ship approached Syndiculous 5. It was a highly developed planet populated primarily by humans.

He wrinkled his nose.

The leaders of the Humanoid Alliance, his cruel manufacturers, had all been human. They had decommissioned many of his brethren, slicing and dicing them to salvage spare parts, killing them in the most painful way possible. He and other warriors had been fortunate to escape them.

According to the databases, the humans on Syndiculous 5 had little interaction with the Humanoid Alliance. And some of those locals might have insights into the pulsing sound he was investigating.

He flew the modified freighter toward the planet.

Lights flashed on the console. He was being hailed.

Strike opened communications.

“You have entered Syndiculous 5 space.” The voice would have sounded human or humanoid to beings with suboptimal auditory systems. Strike, being a cyborg, immediately processed it was coming from artificial intelligence. “Identify yourself.”

There were no visuals.

Strike bypassed the planet’s process and hacked into the security system. That system was, surprisingly, adequate. But he was half machine, and he easily gained entry to it.

From there, he accessed other systems and databases. He scanned all of them. Multiple times. He found no indications anyone on the planet had detected the pulsing sound.

There was a 98.4777 percent probability he could forgo landing on Syndiculous 5. He could save that time, conserve resources, and continue on his route.

Strike tilted his head to the side.

There was a 1.5223 percent probability landing on the planet could benefit his mission, however. He was already close to its surface. And his investigation should be thorough.

He gave himself permission to land on Syndiculous 5.

Genetic information had been required to do that. It was utilized by the Syndiculs’s systems to track every being on the planet’s surface.

He transferred his data and then programmed it to self-delete after one planet rotation.

They would have no permanent record of his existence.

“You are authorized to land, Captain,” the digital voice recited.

Strike directed his modified freighter toward Syndiculous 5. The image of the planet grew larger on the main viewscreen. It was blue and green and gray, with splashes of white.

Ships orbited high above its surface, outside of its atmosphere. According to the security system, there were hundreds of vessels waiting for authorization to land.

Strike had skipped that queue. He guided the modified freighter downward.

No one attempted to stop him.

The first checkpoint must’ve been the only level of security the Syndiculs projected they required. That logic was faulty. He was evidence of that.

But it served his purposes. He continued his descent.

His plan, once he landed on Syndiculous 5, was to listen to the locals’ chatter. If the sound had been detectable on the surface, either by their auditory systems or by their devices, they would question the source of it. It would be a topic of conversation.

As soon as he uncovered the answers he sought, he’d depart.

The entire process should take mere moments.

Strike lowered the modified freighter to the simulated stone-covered ground and deactivated its engines. The landing site he’d allocated to his vessel was close to the settlement in which the planet’s leaders resided.

They should have more intel than the average being.

As Strike stood, he ran his hands over the blades and guns strapped to his body armor.

Every sheath and holster was filled with weapons.

He didn’t plan to utilize them. His goal was to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

But a warrior should always be prepared for battle.

According to the databases, the locals were currently observing a major religious event. Every being would be dressed in hooded cloaks. Their identities would be concealed.

That was a situation manufactured for security breaches.

He would be one of those breaches.

Strike donned black hand coverings and one of the black life-form-scan-blocking cloaks that had been packed with the excess flight suits. He drew up the hood.

Humans might have black hair. Though theirs didn’t absorb the light as his did. No humans had his gray skin and energy-infused blue eyes.

The garment would keep his face shrouded in concealing shadow. He shouldn’t be identified…by humans and most humanoids. Their visual systems didn’t function optimally in low-light situations.

He moved through the ship. According to his scans, there were no life-forms situated close to his location.

Exercising caution, he drew two guns, clasping one in each hand, and he exited the vessel.

His weapons weren’t necessary. Cleaning bots whizzed around the modified freighter. There were no other signs of activity.

The planet’s solitary sun was setting. Darkness stretched across the simulated stone covering the site. Warmth radiated from that manufactured surface.

A light breeze fluttered the fabric of Strike’s cloak. He breathed deeply. The air smelled of engine lubricant and dust.

He closed the doors to his vessel and locked it against any outsiders.

The modified freighter was situated too close to other ships to activate perimeter alarms. The sealed doors would have to be sufficient.

Strike sprinted between the parked ships. The space was unsettlingly quiet. There were no beings loitering around their vessels. No repairs or restocking of supplies were happening.

“Yeah. I’m the only one on this planet rotation.” A gruff voice reached his auditory system. The being communicated in the universal language. “But it’s triple credits for any shift during The Guidance, so here I am.”

A human male in a gray uniform stood by the exit. He had a holstered gun strapped to his hip.

Strike ducked behind a transport shuttle’s right wing and listened to the one-sided chatter.

The being’s role was protecting the site. He might have inputs about the pulsing sound.

“Did you hear Alec got an invitation to that big event this shift, the party at the Minister of Manufacturing’s domicile?” The male spoke into the handheld pressed to his face. “Yeah. I don’t know how he did it either. He isn’t the type to rub shoulders with the leaders. Can you imagine him doing that?” He laughed. “I guess we’ll hear about it next planet rotation.”

Strike scanned the information he’d downloaded about Syndiculous 5. The Minister of Manufacturing lived in a structure that was a quick run…for a cyborg…from the current location.

The guard talked about females and other guards.

He hadn’t noticed Strike’s presence. And he was located within visual range of the human.

Strike’s lips twisted.

There was a 99.9869 percent probability the guard wouldn’t notice any high-frequency pulsing sounds. That required perception the male didn’t have.

The planet’s leaders should have finer-honed observational skills. They would also have the most-advanced technology…for their kind.

That would increase the probability they’d detected the sound.

Strike rushed past the guard, and he ran at his top speed toward the Minister of Manufacturing’s domicile. Land transports whizzed around him.

He weaved between hooded cloaked beings. 86.2568 percent of them were human, according to his life-form scans. The rest were a variety of humanoids.

None of them turned their heads in his direction or indicated in any other way they’d noticed his presence.

He was moving faster than their visual systems could track. All the beings would see was a blur of darkness between the overhead lights.

Strike reached the Minister of Manufacturing’s domicile in mere moments. The structure was situated at the edge of the settlement. It was surrounded by high walls with recording devices positioned on top of them.

He slowed his speed.

That was a necessity. A rambunctious crowd had gathered close to the gates.

Beings argued vehemently with the guards. Despite their passionate pleas, the guards shook their heads and slashed their hands through the air, denying them entrance.

They weren’t on the invitation list, they were told.

Land transports waited outside the walls. Beings milled around the small ships, chattering and laughing and, in the case of a female and two males, breeding.

Faces and forms were concealed to human-level visual systems.

Mostly.

Every twentieth heartbeat, on average, there would be a flash of a bare leg or a glimpse of a nose. And that display caused the crowd to shout and cheer.

Strike saw the countenances in the hooded cloaks. He noted their expressions—their glee, their desire, their confusion, and their excitement.

And he heard everything.

He stood in the middle of the mass of beings and listened. Being a cyborg, he could track millions of conversations at once. He searched through the din for any mention of the pulsing sound.

There was talk of a peace agreement with barbarians, much relating of potential breeding partners, odes to the excellence of different types of fermented beverage, rumors of a possible decrease in credits allocated to the planet’s military.

There was no mention of unusual sounds or the creation of a potentially world-threatening weapon.

Strike shifted his weight from his right booted foot to his left. The beings on Syndiculous 5 had no useful intel. His time on the surface had been wasted. He should resume his journey and⁠—

A small humanoid bumped against his back.

He ignored that jostling.

A pointed elbow then jabbed his body armor-clad lower back. Hard. That assault seemed…deliberate.

Strike turned.

A female in a shimmering multicolored cloak tilted her head back. Her gaze met his. Her eyes were so pale blue they were almost white. “Your female needs your protection.” The female’s voice was felt, not heard. It seemed to bypass his auditory system and go straight to the center of his chest. “Look toward the east.”

He couldn’t resist glancing in that direction.

A being ran after a departing transport. They wore a black cloak with bright-green edging. The fabric stretched around a curvaceous form.

They had both of their hands raised. Their fingernails were short and immaculately clean. Their skin was the brown of uncovered soil touched by a sun’s rays.

A gust of wind blasted Strike’s face. The most decadent aroma accompanied it.

He breathed deeply. The scent was warm and rich and tantalizingly feminine.

Need rushed through his circuits. His cock hardened, pressing against the confines of his body armor. One word dominated his processors, replaying over and over.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He had found his genetic match, the being he had been manufactured to bond with, cherish, and safeguard. Strike drew himself up to his full height. And, according to the blue-eyed being, she needed his protection.

“What is the threat to my female?” He glanced back at the deliverer of that message.

The humanoid in the multicolored cloak didn’t answer him.

She was gone.

The being had not only disappeared from his visual system but she had also vanished from his life-form scans. That should’ve been an impossible feat.

He returned his gaze to his garment-draped female.

It was as impossible as a cyborg warrior finding his genetic match on a planet he almost hadn’t visited in a crowd of beings seeking to conceal their identities.

He would process the impossible later.

Strike tracked the movements of the green-edged black cloak.

He had a female to safeguard now.

CHAPTER FOUR

The plan Kesser had put together for Talley and Tsadok’s meeting was progressing far smoother than she had expected.

Tsadok convinced his father to send him to the planet to negotiate some small lingering details of the trade agreements between Powlus Zetus and Syndiculous 5. Then he merely stayed for a couple more planet rotations.

Kesser, being the daughter of Syndiculous 5’s Global Minister, had easily obtained invitations for all of them to the Guidance Gala, the most exclusive event of The Guidance. It was being held, as it had been last solar cycle, at the Minister of Manufacturing’s domicile.

She had tucked one of the invitations into Tsadok’s copy of the highly confidential trade-agreement notes. He confirmed, via communications with Talley, that he had received it.

All that was then required was to attend the gala.

Kesser arrived at Talley’s domicile in a land transport. There was no need to battle with the guards. Her friend, clad in a black cloak with green trim, rushed out of the compound and climbed into the land transport.

“It’s time.” Talley plunked her skinny ass into the seat beside hers. Her cloak parted, revealing pale bare legs.

Fates. Kesser blinked. She hoped her friend wasn’t completely naked under the cloak.

“It’s time.” She clasped Talley’s hands. Her friend’s fingers trembled with excitement. “Did your dad give you any trouble?”

“Surprisingly…no.” Talley wrinkled her nose. “He gave me a long confusing speech about how he knew I’d be safe because he’d never allow anything bad to happen to me, and then he told me to have fun.” She shrugged. “Tsadok’s cloak is black with green trim also. He looks so sexy in it.”

“He’ll match me, then.” Kesser slipped out of her green-with-black-trim cloak and handed it to her friend. “You told him we’re switching disguises, right?”

Unlike Talley, Kesser had been wearing a figure-covering flight suit under her cloak.

The fabric was green and shiny, but the construction of it was durable and extremely practical.

She considering herself to be on duty during the event. Her focus was ensuring the meeting between her friend and the Powluk went well.

That was what a support being did—she served others.

“He liked that I’d be wearing green with black trim.” Talley took off her cloak. Her friend had donned a garment, but not much of one. Strips of fabric crisscrossed her chest and hips, covering her breasts, mons, and ass. “He said everyone would know I’m his.” She shivered dramatically. “My great green hunk of a male is so possessive. I love it.”

They put on each other’s cloaks. That concealing outerwear had been crafted in the same size.

Kesser had a much fuller figure and was a little bit taller. That meant her friend’s cloak only reached her calves.

It didn’t matter. She shook off that concern. The garment provided adequate coverage. And the hood was the right proportions. It covered her face.

No one would recognize her. And, if Talley’s dad sent guards to follow them, they wouldn’t realize the female in the black cloak with green trim wasn’t their target.

“We’ll enter together.” Kesser outlined the plan with Talley one more time. “Do the rounds.” Beings would see their cloaks and hear them chattering. If anyone asked, they would remember the two of them were there. “You’ll slip away and find Tsadok.” Her friend had arranged to meet the Powluk in the documents chamber. “I’ll mingle on my own.” Being the daughter of a leader, she was accustomed to socializing solo. “Then I’ll wait for you outside. Remember to leave after the go-the-fuck-home-now speech.”

That was what they jokingly called the end-of-the-event speech, the one hosts delivered, thanking everyone for attending.

“I won’t leave later than that.” Talley assured her alarmingly quickly.

That usually meant she had no intention of doing whatever she’d promised.

Kesser narrowed her eyes at her friend. “That’s when most beings will leave. We’ll be less trackable in the crowd.” She paused. “And don’t leave with Tsadok.”

The male would be cloaked, but with his height and size, he would be noticeable.

“I want to leave with him.” Talley admitted that truth. “I don’t know when I’ll see him again.” She sighed. “Every moment we can steal together is precious.”

“I know.” And Kesser did know.

Now.

A part of her had thought the meeting would be discarded. She believed her friend would shift her attention to another being. As she had done so often in the past.

But, if anything, Talley’s enthrallment with the Powluk had increased.

It seemed to truly be love for her friend. The long-lasting kind.

Kesser was happy for Talley.

She was also envious. “Exiting apart should make meeting with him easier in the future. And you want that, don’t you?”

“I want that. More than anything.” Talley reached out and squeezed her hand. “Thank you for this, for helping us.” She met Kesser’s gaze. “Tsadok told me he sent his guard back to Powlus Zetus on an errand.” Her friend’s eyes sparkled with merriment. “But he also says the male takes his role extremely seriously and might disobey that command. If you see a huge hunky hunk of a being hovering around the structure, that’s him. Tsadok’s guard is even larger than he is.”

Fates save her from a merger-arranging friend. Kesser pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not chattering with his guard. I’m supposed to be you, remember? And you can’t be linked to any Powluks publicly or your dad will become suspicious.”

“Then he’ll lock me in my private chambers forever. I know.” Talley rolled her eyes. “You can’t chatter with Tsadok’s guard.” She leaned toward Kesser and whispered, “Who is very powerful and credit-rich in his own right.” Her friend straightened. “But you can casually part your cloak, unfasten your flight suit and flash him some breast.”

“You’re impossible.” Kesser shook her head. She wasn’t showing her chest to a stranger.

“I am impossible, aren’t I?” Talley laughed.

Kesser laughed also. Fates, she loved her friend.

It would be lonely if or when Talley left the planet to be with her male.

Kesser pushed away her sorrow. They had now, and she would enjoy the fuck out of it.

Talley chattered about Tsadok, sharing too much information about the size of the male’s body parts. Kesser went over the plan one more time in detail as she listened to her friend.

They finally arrived at the event.

Kesser thanked the land-transport flyer. She and Talley pulled up the hoods of their cloaks, and they tumbled out of the vessel and into a crowd of beings.

Fermented beverage already flowed outside the walls of the domicile. Beings called out to them. Someone grabbed Kesser’s ass.

“Let go of me.” She elbowed that being. Hard.

“By the Fates.” The male cursed as he freed her.

The Fates were always portrayed as being female. Kesser doubted they would tolerate being roughly handled like she had been.

“Beings love your ass.” Talley bumped against her.

“They thought they were just grabbing my cloak.” Kesser joked. “They didn’t realize it was all ass underneath it.”

The two of them giggled as they approached the gates. They showed the guards their invitations. The guards stepped aside and opened the gates.

Kesser walked arm in arm with Talley through the flower-covered yard.

“I’m going to boink my hunky male against that wall,” Talley whispered.

Fates. Her friend treaded on dangerous ground.

“Don’t let anyone see you.” Kesser hoped the no-one-sees-or-hears-anything policy during The Guidance held true for them this planet rotation.

“They won’t see my face.” Talley’s voice lilted with humor.

Kesser sucked back a tart reply as they entered the structure.

The place was as crowded as the pathways outside the walls were. Beings in hooded cloaks held containers of sparkling beverages. Music played. Some beings danced. There was chatter and laughter and…life.

A smile lifted Kesser’s lips. She might be on duty, but she could still enjoy the fun ambiance.

She and Talley circled the chamber, greeting beings with silent nods. They pretended not to recognize any of the attendees. That was part of the festivities.

Some of the identities were obvious, however. A high-credit supporter of Kesser’s mom wore all her sunstones and other decorations on the outside of her cloak. An official’s cloak hood had slipped off his balding head. One of Talley’s previous admirers’ distinctive snort was heard to the left of them.

Kesser ensured the two of them were seen by as many beings as possible.

Satisfied she’d achieved that goal, she murmured to Talley, “Have fun.”

“Ohhh…I will.” Her friend hugged her and then disappeared into the mass of cloaked beings.

Kesser was now alone in the crowded chamber. She was tempted to claim a fermented beverage. Drinking it would give her something to do.

But she had to keep a clear head. Her friend’s happiness, both present and future, depended on that.

She also couldn’t risk anyone seeing her fingers. They were numerous shades darker than Talley’s. Any observer would immediately know she wasn’t her friend.

Instead, Kesser drifted aimlessly through the chamber. Conversations happened all around her. Beings laughed and flirted and consumed nourishment and beverages.

Everyone appeared to be having a great time.

Yearning pulled at her. She wanted to join one of the side groups.

That would require talking, however. And the beings would recognize her voice. Most of the attendees often interacted with her mom.

She moved through the space once, twice, three more times.

Then she slipped out of the chamber, out of the structure, out of the walled plot, and joined the more-boisterous crowd outside the gates.

She couldn’t chatter with those beings either. Talley’s dad’s guards might be amongst them. But it felt more…freeing.

Kesser leaned against a wall. She didn’t feel as though she was being observed.

The shadows partially hiding her accentuated that illusion. Keeping her head bowed, she extracted a handheld from the folds of her cloak and sent a short message to her mom, assuring her she was safe.

That was the truth. The presence of the guards at the gates stopped the celebrations from becoming too wild. And she could handle any additional ass grabbers.

Moments passed.

Syndiculous 5’s three moons peeked out from behind the clouds. The warm breeze brushed against Kesser’s cloak. No one approached her.

She watched the gates.

Finally, large numbers of beings flowed through them. She straightened. Talley, if she was wise, should be exiting with that crowd.

Kesser looked for the unique green-with-black-trim cloak.

She saw Tsadok first. Numerous beings had trimmed their black cloaks with green trim. But the Powluk’s height made him easy to spot.

And, yes. Kesser inwardly groaned. There was Talley beside him. Her friend hadn’t exited alone as she’d been instructed. That rebellion should have been predicted. Talley only followed instructions when it suited her.

The couple moved toward a land transport.

That hadn’t been the plan. Kesser ran after them.

The doors of the land transport opened. Talley stepped into it.

“Wait,” Kesser shouted at her.

Her friend paused and turned her head in Kesser’s direction.

A being in a black cloak pressed against Talley. The folds of that garment parted.

Light reflected off silver metal.

A chill skittered down Kesser’s spine. The being was holding a gun.

The fingers wrapped around the weapon were green. The knuckles were decorated with vaguely familiar black wavy lines.

Talley entered the land transport.

Tsadok followed her. He was accompanied by two additional beings in black cloaks.

The male and her friend were being abducted. Kesser propelled herself forward as fast as she could, but the crowd was thick, and it took too much time to weave between the amassed beings.

The doors of the land transport closed. It sped away.

She attempted to chase the vessel and quickly realized that was futile.

By the Fates. She skidded to a stop.

Talley and Tsadok had been taken. They were in danger.

She had to figure out a way to save them. Preferably without causing an intergalactic incident.

If anyone else found out about the abduction, it would not only place her friend in danger, but it could also jeopardize the fragile peace between Syndiculous 5 and Powlus Zetus.

Talley’s dad would insist on waging war against the other planet.

And that would mess up…everything. Beings died in war.

Her friend could die.

Kesser suppressed a shiver of fear and forced herself to review what she knew.

Her friend and the Powluks’ Second Zetus had been abducted.

The abductors had green skin. They must also be Powluks.

That meant they were, almost certainly, planning to take Talley and Tsadok to their home planet.

Once The Guidance was over, it would be difficult for them to hide on Syndiculous 5. Their appearance would make them extremely noticeable.

Syndiculs were still suspicious of Powluks. Someone would report their presence to authorities.

If Kesser was to rescue her friend and the Second Zetus, she would need a ship. She gazed around her.

Stealing one was an option. But she also needed help. She didn’t know much about planning a rescue mission.

Her gaze rested on a being clad in a black cloak. They were the tallest individual she had ever encountered. The being made Tsadok look tiny.

Tsadok…

Talley had mentioned a guard. She’d said he was huge.

A guard charged with protecting his planet’s future ruler would want to be part of an operation to rescue that male. He’d want to do that quietly. And he might be skilled in that type of mission.

He’d also have access to Tsadok’s ship.

Kesser didn’t know the guard. At all. They’d never met. She didn’t even know his name.

But Fates. She had no other options.

And every moment she hesitated put Talley in more danger.

Her friend must be so scared. Kesser’s stomach churned.

They’d gotten into trouble in the past. None of those incidents compared to the peril they faced now.

She had to save her friend.

That would be easier to accomplish with the guard’s assistance. Kesser squared her shoulders, gathered her confidence, and approached him.

He braced his booted feet apart, widening his stance. His boots were as huge as the rest of him was. They were black, perfectly polished, and looked like something a military male—or a guard—might wear.

As Kesser neared him, her nipples tightened and her pussy grew wet. She didn’t know why her body reacted to the guard, but it had chosen a terrible time to express interest in another being.

She stopped in front of him and tilted her head upward. “They’ve been abducted.” Aware beings might be listening to them, she didn’t state who the they were. There was no need to do that. The male should know who she was referring to. “We need to rescue them. Do you have access to a ship?”

“I have access to a ship.” The guard’s low growly voice coiled around her, setting fire to a passion fiercer than any she’d ever experienced.

Her friend was in danger, and she wanted to fuck the male senseless. Fates. Kesser pressed her lips together. She was a terrible being.

“What’s our destination?” A delicious heat also radiated from him.

“I’ll tell you that once we reach the ship.” Mentioning Powlus Zetus might get a reaction from the beings around them. “We have to leave now. With every passing moment, they’ll become more difficult to track.”

“We’ll travel faster if I carry you.” He reached out to her.

His hands were massive, and they were covered with black leather.

She resisted the impulse to clasp them. “It won’t be faster. I’m a large female.”

“You’re a tiny female.” Humor wrapped around his words.

Compared to him, she was tiny, she supposed.

“This will be faster,” he insisted.

She hesitated.

“They’re becoming more difficult to track,” the guard reminded her.

Fates. “Okay.” She stepped forward. “You can try to carry me, but⁠—”

She yelped with surprise as he gripped her by the waist.

The male lifted her easily, draped her over his right shoulder, and then ran faster than she believed was possible. Their surroundings blurred into a stream of lights amidst the darkness. Carrying her didn’t appear to strain him at all.

His tread was soundless. His gait was level. One of his arms was strapped over her legs, under her ass. She doubted she was in any risk of falling. But she clutched his back to steady herself.

The male must’ve been wearing body armor. His form was unrelenting under the cloak.

“This is faster.” She admitted that truth.

He grunted.

It occurred to her that she had placed her body and her friend’s lifespan in the huge hands of the male.

And he was a complete stranger.

That should concern her.

But all she felt was reassurance and the most inappropriate desire.

CHAPTER FIVE

Strike had found his female, the one being he was destined to claim. He was touching her. And she had honored him with her trust.

She had requested his assistance in rescuing the beings in the land transport. The fastest and easiest way to accomplish that feat would’ve been to run after that engine-challenged vessel and confront the occupants once it eventually stopped.

But his female’s proposal involved his modified freighter. Since he relished the prospect of having her in his ship, he didn’t argue with her.

Her plan had the additional perk of giving him a reason to carry her. That was a task he very much enjoyed. She was soft and, although she was almost alarmingly short, her figure was full and well-rounded. He breathed deeply. She smelled cock-hardingly delectable.

Moving at cyborg speed, he arrived with her at the landing site regrettably quickly.

The guard at the entrance had his head tilted back. His eyes were closed. A loud snoring escaped his open mouth.

The male wasn’t safeguarding anything. Strike quashed his disgust.

More beings, 94.2563 percent of them human, milled around the landed ships. They chattered about drinking too much fermented beverage, breeding encounters with unidentified partners, and the events they planned to attend over the next planet rotation. 86.1488 percent of them wore cloaks. One barely mature-looking human puked liquids into a parts container.

When Strike, carrying his female, ran past them, they didn’t turn their heads.

The modified freighter appeared to be undisturbed. He slowed his speed and linked to its systems remotely. There had been no attempts by others to access the ship.

He circled it, examining it for damage or other tampering. His female would soon be an occupant. He wouldn’t take any risks with her lifespan.

“This isn’t what I expected when you said you had a ship.” She lifted her head and gazed around them. “I thought you’d have a warship or something else more suitable for fighting.”

“A warship draws attention, my female.” He reached up and tapped his leather-clad fingertips against one of the guns. “This freighter has been modified. It has an enhanced-yet-hidden weapons system and reinforced shields.”

“That’s clever.” The admiration in her voice caused his chest to expand with pride.

He completed his inspection. Everything appeared to be functional.

“We’ve reached your ship.” His female wiggled her wondrously generous ass. “It’s right here. I can walk the rest of the way.”

“You can, but you won’t walk the rest of the way.” It was his pleasure to convey her.

He opened the doors, extended the ramp, marched up that incline with her slung over his shoulder, and entered the modified freighter.

“I would like to walk now.” His little human’s tone lacked conviction.

“Would you?” He carried her through the ship.

“Ummm…” Her erotic humming plucked at his balls. “I should like to walk now.”

He conveyed her onto the bridge.

“You like being carried, my female.” Strike set her carefully in the captain’s chair. He liked carrying her.

“It’s not very dignified.” That wasn’t a no. She lowered the hood of her cloak, revealing her face.

No longer dimmed by shadows, her beauty almost caused his knees to malfunction. His female had brown curls, light-brown skin, a rounded countenance, and lush lips. Her brown eyes glittered with flecks of red.

“You’re stunning.” Those words left his lips without flowing through his processors.

Her cheeks flushed with pink pigment. “I’m stunningly ordinary, you must mean.”

“There is nothing ordinary about you, my female.” He was the most fortunate warrior in the universe to have her as his genetic match.

“Yes. Well.” She appeared flustered.

Had no one ever told her that? He frowned.

Humans were fools.

“We can talk about this later.” She waved one of her hands. “After we rescue Talley and Tsadok.”

Those must be the abducted beings.

Strike removed his cloak and his hand coverings and placed them back in their compartment.

“You’re gray.” His female squeaked. “I was told all Powluks were green, and you’re…not.”

“I’m not a Powluk.” He lifted her out of her seat, claimed it for himself and perched her on his lap. That physical connection eased some of the building tension within him.

According to the databases, Powluks were green humanoid warriors residing in a neighboring star system.

“I’m a D model cyborg.” He started the modified freighter’s engines. “What’s our destination?”

“Powlus Zetus.” She shifted on his lap to sit sideways across his legs. “Syndicul researchers studied cyborgs when they developed our robotic warriors.”

“Your robotic warriors are inferior to cyborgs.” It was an insult to be compared to them.

He performed the systems checks.

“Yes, they’re inferior.” His female rolled her eyes. “You might be half machine, but you’re still a living breathing being. They’re…not.”

He harrumphed and guided the modified freighter upward.

“Your kind is also known as being some of the best fighters in the universe.” She gazed up at him. Her forehead furrowed with processing lines. “The best fighters…I guess it makes sense the Powluks would assign you, their best fighter, to guard Tsadok.” The lines on her gorgeous face flattened. “He’s their heir apparent.”

She projected he was a guard to one of the abducted beings. Strike pressed his lips together. She hadn’t trusted him merely because she sensed he was her warrior.

That was…disappointing.

Lights flashed on the console as they climbed higher.

His female wiggled forward and peered down. “It says ‘communications’. I think we’re being hailed.”

She was clever, and that eased some of his disgruntlement.

“Ships usually need authorization to take off, don’t they?” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

That was stimulating as all frag. He wanted her. Wildly.

“I could talk to my mom, ask her to grant us permission.” She grimaced. “I’d rather not do that. She wouldn’t approve of you and me going on this rescue mission. Mostly me. She doesn’t know about you.”

While his female chattered, Strike accessed the planet’s security system. He hadn’t 100.0000 percent exited it. And he gave their ship authorization to leave the surface.

“She’d assign the rescue to other beings. That would take too much time. Talley is in danger, and…” His female paused and leaned over the console again. “Oh. The flashing lights went away.”

Strike strapped one of his arms around her waist and pulled her snug against him. She fit as though she was manufactured for him.

Because she had been. They were fabricated for each other.

“Ummm…” His female tormented him with more erotic humming. “I should sit in my own chair.” She squirmed, brushing her ass against his body armor-constricted cock, and he swallowed a groan. “This can’t be comfortable for you.”

It wasn’t comfortable. It was fraggin’ tantalizing.

“Do you want to sit in your own chair, my female?” His voice lowered with need.

Their modified freighter broke free of the planet’s atmosphere and shot into open space.

“We should focus on our mission.” Her response implied she couldn’t focus while seated on his lap.

She didn’t want to move to another chair. His female projected she should seek to do that.

“Our mission is to rescue Talley.” He assumed that being was a friend of his female’s. “And Tsadok, the heir apparent of Powlus Zetus, from beings who have abducted them. But first, we’re traveling to the male’s home planet. What’s our purpose there?”

“Oh, right.” She slapped one of her palms against her forehead. “I didn’t tell you. I saw one of the abductors’ fingers. They were green.”

“You assume they’re Powluks.” That was sound logic.

His female nodded. “They can’t stay on Syndiculous 5, especially after word spreads about the abduction. With their green skin and tusks, they’d be too noticeable.” She paused. “Oh, and don’t tell anyone about this…ummm…I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

“My name is Strike.” He inputted their destination into the guidance system, plotting the shortest route to the planet. “You can call me your Strike or your warrior.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this, Strike.” His name sounded good on her lips.

“Your Strike,” he corrected her.

“My Strike.” That verbal claiming sounded even better. “This could jeopardize the peace between our planets. I’m hoping we can rescue them before anyone else finds out what has happened.”

“I won’t tell any humans or humanoids.” He would have to relay the development to Captain and to his fellow officers.

The completion of his own mission would be delayed due to his female’s situation.

He tilted his head. Powlus Zetus was located at only a 2.4586 degree angle to the west of his original trajectory. The locals might have more intel about the pulsing sound.

“Thank you.” His female smiled at him.

His systems flickered. All the words in his databases were temporarily purged.

He gazed back at her, unable to form a coherent response.

“What will you say to the beings you report to when you check in with them?” She wrinkled her nose. “Or do you report directly to Tsadok? Did he assign the role to you?”

There was a 96.4256 percent probability his female would be angry with him. There was a 99.9857 percent probability her trust in him would be damaged.

But Strike had to reveal his true identity to her.

He couldn’t lie. Cyborgs didn’t have that ability.

And he didn’t want to deceive his female further by evading the truth. She deserved to process whose lap she was sitting on.

He met her gaze. “I’m not Tsadok’s guard.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re…you’re…not?”

“I’m investigating a situation for my captain…and for the cyborg council.” He emphasized the importance of his mission. “I stopped on your planet to gather intel.” His lips twisted. “There was no intel to gather. Your kind appears to be unaware of the situation.”

She blinked once, twice. “Are you…” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Abducting me?”

“Do you want me to abduct you?” That prospect appealed to a primitive part of him he hadn’t processed existed.

“I shouldn’t want that.” Her confession caused his cock to bob. “No.” Her spine straightened. “I don’t want that. My friend and her possible partner are in danger. I have to save them.”

“We will save them.” He admired his female’s loyalty. “I’ll assist you with the rescue.”

“Why would you assist me?” She frowned at him. “You don’t know me. I’m just some female who walked up to you and demanded you take me to your ship and…Fates.” She slapped her forehead again. “You didn’t abduct me. I abducted you.”

“I wanted to be abducted.” He grinned.

Her lips curled ever-so-slightly upward. “What are we going to do? This is a mess.”

“We’re going to rescue your friend and her possible partner. That’s what we’re going to do.” He wasn’t 100.0000 percent certain how they would accomplish that mission at the moment. There were missing inputs. But they would be successful.

He wouldn’t fail his female.

“You’ll help me?” She lifted her eyebrows.

“I’ll help you.” He’d rearrange the universe if she required that task to be done.

She leaned toward him. “Thank you, my Strike.” She kissed his chin.

His processors strained under the wonder of that brief unexpected touch. Passion raced along his circuits. And his database was purged of words yet again.

He gazed at her with a physical hunger he struggled to contain.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the main viewscreen?” Her eyes glowed. “You’re flying the ship.”

“The guidance system is flying our ship.” He verified that truth remotely. “I’m doing this.” He cradled her jaw with his hands, lowered his head and captured her lips.

They were soft and full, and they parted for him immediately. He delved into her hot mouth, claiming that terrain. Their tongues tangled and twined. His female met every one of his advances halfway. She was courageous and passionate and his, all his.

A growl rolled up his throat. The savage sound seemed to surprise both of them.

She moaned her response and fervently sucked on his tongue. That tug and release was felt throughout Strike’s entire body. He throbbed with passion.

For her. All for her.

He stroked her skin with his thumbs as he ravished her mouth. She was soft all over. And she tasted sweet, like the ripest, most-decadent berries.

She pressed against him more and more. Her curves buffed his body armor.

He laved her lips, the flesh she often damaged, with his tongue, covering them with his nanocybotics. That part of him would repair her. And it would proclaim to all other cyborgs that the exquisite female on his lap was his.

“We should be. Planning. The rescue.” His female panted.

Strike rested his forehead against hers. “The journey to Powlus Zetus takes six planet rotations and two shifts.” They would spend every moment of that duration together. “We have sufficient time to plan the rescue and kiss.”

“And if I want to do more than that?” His female’s voice was barely audible.

But he heard her, with his auditory system and with his heart. “We have the time to do that also.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s your decision.”

He would wait until she was ready. Even if that took solar cycles.

His balls might explode. His lips twitched. But he wouldn’t rush her.

“It’s my decision.” She gazed up at him.

He nodded and said nothing, not wanting to pressure her.

“If this was solely about you and me, I’d rip off your body armor and boink you senseless right here and right now.” The passion shining in her eyes brought out a wildness in him he struggled to control. “But this isn’t solely about you and me. My friend and her male are in danger, and only a terrible being would think about her own needs first.” She gave him an adorably sheepish smile. “I’m trying not to be a terrible being.”

He projected his female was far from a terrible being. Her sense of duty and her loyalty equaled his.

“We’ll plan the rescue first.” He said the words for her. “Then we’ll breed.”

Her cheeks flooded with pink pigment. “Yes.”

They would breed. And he would claim her. Forever.

Then he would have to leave her. For a short duration. While he tracked the origins of the pulsing sound.

The noise might be a threat to all those in the cyborg sector and possibly the universe.

It might be a threat to her, his fragile human female.

CHAPTER SIX

Kesser was going to fuck her cyborg. They would boink in his captain’s chair. And against the wall. And over the ship’s console.

Then they’d boink some more.

There were no doubts in her mind that would happen. Her desire for him was off the charts. She would have to touch him. All over. Lick him. Suck on him.

Her certainty about their garment-shedding future was accompanied by guilt.

Her friend and her friend’s male were in danger. She should be solely thinking about them and not lusting after a near stranger.

A huge near stranger with gorgeous gray skin and energy-infused brilliant blue eyes. A male who had kissed her like he had a hunger only her lips would sate. She wiggled on his lap. A warrior with an intriguingly large bulge in his body armor. She⁠—

“Powlus Zetus is a small planet.” Strike, the being she was lusting over, displayed an image of their destination on the main viewscreen. He was focused on the mission. As she should be. “According to the databases, they have nine primary settlements. If the inhabitants of one of those settlements are sympathetic to the abductors’ cause, there’s a high probability your friend and her male will be brought there.”

That made sense to her. They now had to narrow down which settlement that would be.

She could help with that task.

“The abductors had black squiggly lines drawn on their knuckles.” That had to be key to their identity. “I’ve seen those somewhere, but I can’t remember where.”

“I’m scanning the databases for Powluks with finger markings.” Her cyborg was a male of action, and that was reassuring.

Because she had no fuckin’ idea how to plan a rescue mission.

Twelve images of black finger tattoos were displayed beside Powlus Zetus on the main viewscreen.

“That’s it.” She pointed to the one situated three images from the right. “It looked like that one.”

“According to the databases, that’s a marking used exclusively by the inhabitants of the Tsicariuk Plains region of Powlus Zetus.” Her cyborg informed her. “Those beings are dedicated to the art of war, and they have only one base. It’s situated here.”

The image of the planet rotated dizzyingly quickly to the left.

It stopped. A green dot appeared in the middle of a land mass.

“A battle was being waged on the Tsicariuk Plains when the peace agreement was finalized.” She remembered hearing about that. Countless Powluks had died during the confrontation. “The residents didn’t want to stop the fighting. But my mom recalled all our robots and weapons, leaving them with no one to target.” Kesser chewed on her bottom lip. “They were angry about that, my Strike. And now those angry warriors have Talley, and—” Her voice broke.

She didn’t want to think about what her peace-loving, harmless-to-anyone friend and her chosen male could be facing on Powlus Zetus.

“We’ll rescue them, my female.” Strike hugged her to his big form.

The physical contact and the confidence in his deep tones soothed her. “Tell me you’ve done something like this, that this isn’t your first rescue mission.”

“Cyborgs can’t lie. That isn’t in our programming.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. A sexy fizzing spread over her skin. That sensation had also occurred after they’d kissed. “I haven’t performed a rescue mission.”

“Oh.” Fates. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“I have fought 251,688 battles over thousands of human lifespans.” He gently stroked her hair back from her face. “I survived training that killed many other warriors. My brethren and I used the skills we honed to escape our cruel manufacturer’s control.” He paused. “I landed without hardship on your planet. If the security on Powlus Zetus is equivalent, we’ll land on that planet’s surface without hardship also.”

“The security on Powlus Zetus isn’t as sophisticated.” Her hope revived. “They don’t trust technology as much as my kind does. They don’t use it to track beings." She chewed on her bottom lip. “We’ll need authorization to land. I could ask my mom to arrange that, but…”

She still preferred not to involve her. Her mom would order her to return home, and she wasn’t as rebellious as Talley was. She didn’t want to disobey her much-beloved parent.

“There’s no need to ask your mom to gain authorization to land.” Strike sounded certain about that also. “I’ll access their systems and give us authorization.”

“Can you access their systems?” She frowned. “There would be security levels, and…” She didn’t know what else there would be.

“I’m half machine.” He said that as though it explained everything.

She gazed at him. “And?”

“I’m accessing Syndiculous 5’s core systems remotely as we chatter.” He shared that disturbing revelation. “Some of your leaders have open links to the Powluk systems. Ahhh…” He tilted his head to the side. “They require a text-based communication from a Powluk of influence for visitors from Syndiculous 5 to be entered into the database. I’m duplicating the one issued to your Minister of Defense by Powlus Zetus’s First Zetus.”

“The First Zetus is Tsadok’s father.” She felt uneasy about forging the communication. But she suspected they would be doing a lot of things that weren’t exactly protocol.

Fates. They had to sneak onto the surface of a planet controlled by a former enemy.

“We’ll require identities.” Strike presented the next challenge. “I’m perusing the programming for their life-form scanners.” His abilities wowed her. “The life-form scans detect the number of organic beings on board a ship, and that’s the extent of it.” His lips twisted. Her cyborg didn’t appear to be impressed with that level of detail. “The life-form scans don’t distinguish between human, humanoid, or cyborg—male, female or other.”

“They must uncover those details some other way.” Her mom had said the Powluks were strict about who landed on their planet.

“They require visuals upon approach.” He had that information also. “I’ll wear a garment that blocks the life-form scans.” She didn’t know garments like that existed. “Some more-advanced systems can identify beings as cyborgs.”

“That would raise questions.” Cyborgs were rare in their sector. She’d never seen one.

Before Strike. She gazed up at him. The male was gorgeous.

“It’s preferable if no questions are raised.” He agreed with her. “You’ll be viewed as the sole occupant of the modified freighter. To reduce the probability of detection, you should assume an identity of a high-ranking human female.”

Kesser thought about the beings working with her mom. “If we’re duplicating the communication used for Talley’s dad, the Minister of Defense, I should likely be someone in his group. That way, the wording might also apply to her.”

“That’s logical.” The approval in Strike’s voice warmed her chest.

“There’s Vera Inada. She’s the defense procurement agent, but she doesn’t look anything like me.” She was pale and thin and had twice Kesser’s solar cycles.

“We’ll manipulate the image.” Her cyborg shrugged. “To the Powluks hailing us, you’ll look exactly like Vera Inada.”

“You can do that?” She stared at him.

“I’ve already pulled footage of the female from the Syndicul databases. There are sufficient inputs to fully replicate her image.” He was thrillingly efficient. “Once we’ve done that, human or humanoid visual systems won’t be able to detect the difference.”

Excitement zinged through Kesser. She had another application for that ability. “Can you manipulate the background of a communication?”

“That’s much easier to accomplish.” He displayed live footage of the two of them, except it looked like they were sitting in a field of tall yellow vegetation with a blue sky above them.

“Where’s that?” She could almost feel the heat of the sun’s rays on her shoulders.

“It’s Mercury Minor, a cyborg-protected planet.” He liked that place. She heard that in his voice.

“Could you add beings to the footage? In the background?” She extracted her handheld from the pocket of her cape and searched the saved footage for one of Talley.

When she found a good snippet, she showed it to Strike.

He touched the screen and then, like magic, Talley appeared behind them on the footage. The replication of her friend danced and laughed and looked amazingly real.

“That’s perfect.” Kesser clapped her hands. “I have to⁠—”

Her stomach rumbled. Loudly.

Her face heated. “Ignore that sound.”

“I will not ignore that sound, my female.” Strike lifted her off his lap and set her on the seat next to his. “I’ve neglected your needs, and that’s damaging you. I’ll rectify that situation immediately.”

There was blur of darkness, and he was gone.

She was alone on the bridge of the ship.

That ship was hurtling through space. And its pilot was gone.

“Fates. I hope the guidance control is working.” She gazed down at the control panel embedded in the console. There were a lot of buttons and readings on it. “I have no idea how to fly a ship.”

“I can fly it remotely.” Strike had returned. He carried a container in one hand. His other hand gripped numerous nourishment bars.

“You’re fast.” She blinked.

He placed the treats and the container on the console. “I’m a cyborg.” He claimed the captain’s seat once more and returned her to her place on his lap.

She sighed with happiness. For some unexplained reason, she felt more at ease when she was touching him.

“Humans require beverage.” He grabbed the container, opened it, and handed it to her.

She was thirsty. Kesser tilted the container back and swallowed greedy gulps of a slightly sweet unidentified liquid. “Cyborgs don’t require beverage?” She wiped some droplets off her chin.

“No.” He drew a dagger from a sheath on his body armor and cut one of the nourishment bars into smaller pieces. “Open.” He held a piece to her lips.

She obeyed his command.

He popped it into her mouth.

She chewed. The nourishment bar was sweet also. “This is good.”

“The Pirx Berry-flavored nourishment bars are the best.” He devoured three pieces in quick succession. Then he gave her another one.

They ate several bars in companionable silence, munching happily.

“I have to send a communication to my mom and tell her I’m okay,” Kesser finally told him. When she was traveling, she communicated with her mom at least once a planet rotation. That was their agreement. “A less ship-like background image for that communication would be great. If we could add footage with Talley to it, that would be even better. My mom could then send it to Talley’s dad, and that would reassure everyone.”

“Both modifications are easy to apply.” He reached around her and tapped his fingertips against the control panel embedded in the console.

“I’m not ready to send the communication right now.” Kesser set the beverage container on her lap and hurriedly pulled his hands away from the control panel. “I don’t yet know what to say.” The words had to be as reassuring as the images. “Yes, we’ll have to tell my mom everything eventually.” As Syndiculous 5’s leader, her mom would have to know about the abduction. “But I prefer to do that as we’re returning home. After Talley and Tsadok are rescued, and we’re all safe.” She paused. “If we’re all safe.”

“You’ll be safe.” Her cyborg took the container of beverage from her and placed it on the console. “Inform me when you’re ready, and we’ll record the footage of you. Then we’ll craft the rest of the communication.”

“Thank you.” That was a solid plan.

She now had to tackle her part of it.

* * *

Crafting her message in her head took Kesser several moments. She wasn’t a great liar, and it had to be convincing. If she couldn’t pull that off, her mom would worry and would likely send out a search team to look for her.

“I’m ready.” She glanced over her right shoulder at Strike.

His face was a tongue length away from hers.

Which meant…he’d be in the footage.

Explaining the presence of a cyborg warrior would be challenging.

“Should I move to the next chair?” She wiggled on his lap.

“We’ll erase my image, my female.” He clamped one of his big hands down on her hip, and that stopped her movements. “And we’ll record you from the chest up.”

That would work. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

“We’re recording.” Her cyborg kissed the back of her head.

She assumed he’d erase that part also. “Hi, Mom. Talley and I decided to rent a set of private chambers closer to the events.” Her mom wouldn’t be shocked about that development. They had done the same thing during The Guidance three solar cycles ago. “There was a reduction of credits if we rented them for four planet rotations, instead of the two, so we figured…why not?” She grinned. “Can you tell Talley’s dad she’s fine? She…you know how that situation is.”

Talley didn’t have the open and easy relationship with her dad that Kesser had with her mom.

“Thanks, and love you.” She waved. “Don’t work too hard.”

She patted Strike’s leg.

“Ending the recording.” He swept his hands over the controls. A transfer of credits from an unknown source was made in her name.

“What is that?” Kesser frowned.

“You’ve rented a set of private chambers for four planet rotations.” Her cyborg shrugged.

“I’ve rented a set of private chambers…” The full impact of that transaction hit her. “I didn’t lie to my mom.” That made her happy. “I didn’t tell her we’d be staying in those private chambers, only that we’d rented them. And now, I’ve done that”

She turned her head and gave Strike a quick kiss on the chin.

He blinked.

“You’re the best.” She beamed. “I’ll pay the credits back.”

“Credits are numbers in a database.” His tone was gruff. “And you’re my female. There’s no need to pay them back.”

He was clever and generous. Joy gripped her. “Let’s see the recording.”

Strike played it for her.

She looked genuinely happy and relaxed. Her voice lilted a bit with laughter.

Kesser suspected that was due to the male who was holding her.

They worked on editing the footage.

Strike found images of the exact set of private chambers he’d rented for her. He manipulated one of those, altering the viewing angle slightly, and used it as the background.

Kesser’s cloak was changed from black with green trim to green with black trim. Her cyborg’s handsome face was regretfully erased.

Talley was inserted into the communication. She danced in and out of the frame behind Kesser. Every so often, she’d chatter.

“You’re good.” Kesser couldn’t distinguish the fake footage from the real thing. “Even I think that’s Talley. She looks and sounds exactly like her.”

“You had 227 images, 48 auditory communications and 114 recordings of her on your handheld.” Strike’s tone was dry. “I had sufficient inputs.”

Fates. That did sound like a lot of inputs for one being.

“She’s my best friend,” Kesser explained. “I love her.” She liked having some of their memorable moments accessible to her at all times.

Her cyborg grunted.

“Is it ready to send?” It looked ready to her, but he was the expert.

“I’m routing the communication through the rented private chambers.” It was good thing he thought of that detail because she hadn’t. “It’ll appear as though you’re sending it from there.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” Her stealth skills were vastly improving, thanks to her male. “Tell me when I can press the button.”

“The communication is ready to send, my female.” He gave her the permission she sought.

“Then I’m sending it.” She did exactly that. “There. Done.” She stifled a yawn. It had been an action-packed planet rotation. “My mom and Talley’s dad shouldn’t worry.” Kesser turned to sit sideways on her cyborg. “We also made good progress on the rescue plan.” She leaned against his body armor-covered chest. “We can do those other things now. If you want.”

They could boink their little hearts out. The tension flowed from her form.

The two of them had earned that reward.

“I want to do those other things. But we’ll restore your energy levels first.” Strike rested his chin on the top of her head. The male was tantalizingly warm. “Sleep, my female.”

“I can sleep later.” Her eyelids became increasingly heavy.

“I’ll restore my energy levels also.” Her cyborg inserted a cable into a socket in his right wrist.

She was being selfish. He was tired too.

“I’ll sleep for only a moment.” She closed her eyes.

“Sleep for as long as you require, my little human.” He rubbed her side. “I’ll protect you.”

Strike was a near stranger. She’d met him mere shifts ago.

Yet she knew he’d safeguard her.

She didn’t need to hear the words.

Darkness reached out to claim Kesser, and she fell into that restorative abyss, content in the knowledge that her cyborg was watching over her.

* * *

Kesser woke in a state of confusion.

She didn’t know where she was.

Her face was pressed against something warm and hard. The combination was surprisingly soothing. She nuzzled against that barrier.

An arousing rumble rose from its surface.

Her pussy dripped with wanting. She gazed upward and blinked.

Her cyborg gazed down at her. His bright-blue eyes glimmered.

Their situation rushed back to her. Her best friend and her best friend’s potential partner had been abducted. She was on her way to rescue them. Strike, a male she’d met that same planet rotation, was helping her.

“Is everything okay?” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“We continue to travel toward Powlus Zetus.” His voice was seductively deep. “A warship was detected on our monitoring systems. I shifted our trajectory to avoid it. We weren’t pursued.”

“That’s…good.” That also sounded potentially dangerous.

“I’ve fabricated the rest of the rescue plan for your friend and her male.” He curled a tendril of her hair around his right index finger. “We could review it now.”

Reviewing plans required thinking. And concentration.

She was too…stimulated for that right now.

“Or we could do other things.” Kesser gave her cyborg her most-seductive smile. “Naughty, not-needing-garments things.”

Energy flashed in his eyes. “You want to breed.”

“I want to breed.” Fates. That sounded deliciously primitive. She trembled. “Do you want to breed?”

“I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my lifespan.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her snug against his big form.

There was a massive bulge in his body armor. Kesser wiggled. Her male was turned on also.

“Do we have time to breed and prepare for the rescue mission?” She desired him to the point of wildness but not to the point of forgoing her friend’s safety. “This boinkfest won’t slow us down?”

“The modified freighter is flying at its top speed.” Strike gave her that reassurance. “And we’ll have sufficient time to prepare for the rescue mission.”

“Then let’s do this.” She unfastened her cloak and tossed it behind her. “Let’s breed.”

“Yes.” He ripped his body armor off his form so quickly she couldn’t track his movements. His hands were a blur.

Her male shifted her first to his right side and then to his left as he undressed. The pieces of his protective garments flew across the bridge and bounced off walls.

The body he revealed was…perfect. His biceps bulged. His stomach muscles were defined. His skin was smooth and gray and seemed endless. The male had no hair anywhere other than on his head.

Kesser’s gaze lowered and her mouth dried.

His cock…Fates…he was dauntingly huge.

But she could…and she would take him. Her desire for her cyborg compounded until it raged out of control inside her.

She was thankful he had formed a plan for their mission.

Because thoughts of anything other than the male in front of her and her tremendous need had evaporated from her brain.

“I’m going to fuck your sockets off, cyborg.” She made him that promise.

“I’m your cyborg.” He drifted his rough fingertips along her jaw.

Kesser quivered with delight.

“You will be my cyborg after this breeding.” She grinned at him. “I’m going to own you, body, mind and soul.”

And she would enjoy every moment of that experience.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Strike’s female wanted to breed with him. Need rushed through his circuits. She would be his and he would be hers. They would share a bond. Forever.

She unfastened her shiny green flight suit. The garment slipped down her shoulders and caught on her breasts. She shimmied. The flight suit fell to her waist, revealing her bountiful curves.

A growl escaped Strike’s lips. Her nipples were taut. Her breasts were full.

His fingers twitched. He wanted to cup that part of her, weigh their abundance with his hands. They looked as soft as the rest of her.

He resisted that temptation and remained still. His female would be in charge of their first breeding. He would progress at her pace and follow her instructions.

She lifted her generous ass and tugged the flight suit to her knees. All of her jiggled as she accomplished that feat.

“Fates. I forgot about my boots.” She removed that footwear.

Their color matched that of her garment.

The bright hue was highly visible. An enemy sporting a human visual system could see her if they were situated the distance of 9.7867 modified freighters away from them.

But he would protect her from any of their foes. He helped her discard her flight suit. She could wear vivid colors without the risk of being damaged.

“There.” His female grinned at him. “We’re both naked.”

“You’re beautiful, my female.” Strike gazed at her, not seeking to hide his admiration, his lust, his yearning for her.

She was curved all over. Her breasts were large. Her stomach was rounded. Her hips were wide. The color of the curls over her mons matched the color of the curls on her head. The insides of her wonderfully thick thighs were slick with wetness. He breathed deeply. She smelled delicious.

“You like large females?” There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“I like my female.” There were no other females for him. “You’re tiny compared to me.” He could lift her with one hand. “But I’ll be careful with you, my little human. I won’t break you during our breeding.”

She blinked once, twice, three times. “Breaking me is a possibility?”

The scent of her arousal intensified.

His female didn’t appear to be scared of the prospect of breeding damage.

His chest expanded with pride. She had courage in abundance.

“My nanocybotics will repair any damage you obtain,” he assured her.

“Your nanocybotics.” She swung her left leg over him and straddled him in the captain’s chair. “Is that the bubbling I feel inside my mouth?” She touched her lips.

“Those are my nanocybotics.” He’d transfer more of them during their breeding, and they’d multiply inside his female. “They repair all but the most-severe damage.” And he’d ensure she wasn’t exposed to that level of harm. “Your natural lifespan will be extended indefinitely.”

She stared at him. “You’re saying I’ll live forever?”

“Yes, you’ll live forever.” As would he. They would be together for endless human lifespans.

That pleased Strike. Very much.

“Ahhh…there are benefits to boinking a cyborg.” His female lowered her gaze to his cock. “More than one benefit.” She wiggled forward until her slick, hot, pussy lips pressed snugly against his base.

Fraggin’ hole. He groaned. The ecstasy radiating from that contact threatened to shred his control.

“Fates, you’re hard.” She grasped his shoulders and pulled herself upward. Her wet flesh slid along the length of his shaft, covering him with warmth.

His female let go of his shoulders.

She dropped. He folded his fingers over her hips to stabilize her. Her ass smacked against his upper thighs.

They both moaned.

His female pulled herself upward and then let herself fall, pulled herself upward and let herself fall. He assisted her with the ascent and blocked her from tumbling off him during the descent.

Her skin glistened with sweat. Stimulating little pants came from her parted lips. Her pussy juices streamed between his balls. His cock was branded with her scent.

Strike sought to give her power over their breeding. He clenched his jaw and endured the sweet torment.

But his restraint frayed more and more. She felt too good, too right.

And the urge to act overwhelmed him. “Have. To. Move.”

“Move. My male.” She huffed. “Move. Into me.”

That was the only direction he wanted to go. He propelled upward as she plummeted toward him. Their bodies crashed together. Heat and pleasure radiated from all the points of connection.

“Yes.” His female vibrated against him. Her nipples brushed against his chest in the softest of caresses. Her ass massaged his thighs.

“Yes.” He surged forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. Her skin tasted of salt and sweetness. It was an enthralling combination.

He helped his female draw herself upward once more. And he thrust against her as she fell. They collided again and again.

Passion cascaded over him, building, building. His little human experienced that escalating fervor also. Her beautiful face flushed with pink pigment. Her eyes shone. Her arms and legs trembled.

“Need.” A plea encased that word. His female was close to completion.

“I will give you what you need.” He’d give them what they both needed.

Strike cupped her ass with his palms. He lifted her along him until his rim skimmed her clit.

Then he swiveled her hips, grinding her against him, granting them both pleasure.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” His female became increasingly breathless. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

That hint of pain escalated his bliss.

“Strike?” She met his gaze. There was a universe of wanting in her big brown eyes.

“Your Strike.” He drove her down along him. Hard. And he thrust upward with everything he had.

Flesh slapped flesh. His female screamed. All of her gyrated.

She bathed his cock with wetness and sweet sensations.

He gritted his teeth so hard he heard a crack, and he fought the urge to come with her. A dab of pre-cum formed on his tip. His muscles flexed.

His female’s shaking eased.

Strike ruthlessly pulled himself away from the emotional cliff looming before him.

“Fates.” She slumped against him. “And that was without taking you inside me.”

That observation caused his cock to bob and his processors to spin.

Every part of him liked the idea of having his female all around him.

“I’ll take you inside me soon.” She looked up at him and gave him a seductive smile. “Give me a moment.”

“You have as many moments as you require, my female.” Strike stroked her back, reveling in the softness of his female.

His balls ached, but he could wait for solar cycles to fully breed with her.

If that was warranted.

He had suffered worse pain for much less reward.

“Is it always like this?” She snuggled against him.

“Yes.” He had only brought one female to release – her – which meant it was always like that.

“Ummm…” Her humming teased his beleaguered balls.

Frag. He had to process something other than his all-encompassing need for his female.

It carved away his willpower.

He wouldn’t last if he continued focusing on the rise and fall of her chest, the wetness of her pussy against his base, the feel of her skin under his fingertips.

Seeking a distraction, Strike reviewed the cold, passionless data sourced from the modified freighter’s systems.

They were in open space. There were no planets or ships situated within range. Their vessel was fully functional. They continued to fly at their maximum speed.

Checking off his internal list placed him back in control of his unruly form.

“When I first saw you in the crowd at The Guidance event.” His female’s breath wafted over his chest. “I felt as though you saw me as I saw you. Like our gazes had met. Which is impossible but…I don’t know” She shrugged. “I like that idea.”

“It isn’t impossible.” He kissed her forehead. “Our gazes did meet. I was watching you.”

“Why?” Her forehead furrowed. “Oh. You knew who I was. And you thought I’d have more information on whatever you were investigating.”

“I processed who you were to me.” After the mysterious other being had pointed his genetic match’s presence out to him.

His female gazed up at him. “And who was I to you?”

“Mine.” He splayed his fingers over her ass.

“Oh.” Her nipples tightened against him.

“My kind have genetic matches.” He relayed that information to his female. “We recognize them by touch.” He squeezed her hips. “By voice. And by scent.” He inhaled deeply.

Pink pigment brightened his female’s cheeks. “You smelled me?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “And you smell like forever.”

“Forever must smell like desire because I wanted you as soon as I saw you.” She pleased him with that sharing.

They gazed at each other.

The moment stretched, heavy with a meaning Strike couldn’t verbalize.

“So when you agreed to help me, you didn’t know who I was?” His female smiled.

“Once I saw your face, I matched your images with those in the databases.” He wanted there to be honesty between them. “I processed you had a role at an academy, your mother was the leader of your planet, and you like the color green.”

His female had worn that hue in many of the images.

“I now prefer energy-shimmering blue.” She lowered her voice. “Like a certain male’s eyes.”

There was a 98.4578 percent probability that certain male was him. Strike’s lips curled upward.

“I don’t require any more moments.” His female rose against him. She didn’t clear his cockhead. “But I do require help taking you. My legs are too short.”

“Your legs are perfect.” He lifted her until she hovered above his tip.

“When I stand, my legs do reach all the way to the floor.” She laughed.

He projected he could listen to that joyous sound for all eternity. There hadn’t been sufficient laughter in his lifespan.

His female could change that.

“That’s verification of my statement.” He chuckled. “Your legs are the ideal length.”

“If you say they are, I believe you.” Her trust in him warmed his chest. “How are we doing?” She gazed downward. “Are we lined up?” She grimaced. “You are large, aren’t you?”

“We’ll fit.” They were manufactured for each other. “And yes, we’re aligned.”

She clamped her fingers around his wrists. “Then let’s do this.”

“Slow or fast?” He required more inputs.

“Slow.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “No. Fast.”

Relief bonded with Strike’s need, with his anticipation.

There was a slim yet not-zero probability his restraint would survive a fast breeding.

It would have been shattered under a leisurely joining. He wanted her too much for that level of fortitude.

“Fast, it is.” He drove his female down on him.

Warmth and pressure and a rightness coursed along his shaft.

She was incredibly snug. Her intimate walls hugged his cock.

Judging by the squeak coming from his female, her hold on him might have been too tight. Lines etched around her lush lips as he seated her fully on him.

“Are you damaged, my female?” Horror froze him in place. She was everything to him, and he’d harmed his little human.

“Need. Another. Moment.” She closed her eyes.

He had damaged her. Guilt jabbed at Strike. He petted his female’s hips, trying to comfort her with his touch.

“When we find release together, my nanocybotics will repair you.” He said that for both his reassurance and hers.

She met his gaze once more. “We might want to make this fuck a quick one then. I suspect I’ll need some repairing.”

“It will be a quick breeding, my female.” For her sake and for his. “My control is…compromised.”

His wanting flickered his systems.

“I shouldn’t like that your control is compromised.” Her eyes had regained their sparkle.

Strike’s guilt over damaging her eased. “Do you like that my control is compromised?”

“Yes.” Her lips curled upward. The lines around that decadent flesh had eased. “I like it very much. It shows that you want me.”

“There’s nothing and no one I want more.” He would have to be dead to not desire his female. She was the most alluring being he’d ever encountered.

“Ummm…” His female wiggled.

He swallowed his groan. She was also the most provocative.

Her little movements combined with her erotic noises were nudging him closer and closer to the edge of release.

“I think I’m okay now.” She gripped his shoulders and attempted to draw herself upward.

Strike assisted her, raising her until only his cockhead remained inside her.

That sensual retreat clawed at his soul. He wanted to chase her with his length.

“I obey your orders, my female.” That was said for both his benefit and hers.

“You obey my orders, huh?” She puckered her lips. “My orders are…”

He waited, holding her in place.

Whatever sweet torture she chose to inflict on him, he would accept.

He was resigned to his fate. And to the cost of claiming her. Forever.

“You’ll fuck me hard and fast, my Strike.” She surprised him with that command. “I don’t need for you to hold anything back. I’m not breakable. You won’t damage me. I want you to impale me on your big cock again and again. I want you to ravish my breasts with your lips. I want you to spank my ass against those unrelenting thighs of yours. When you come, I want you to scream my name. Tell the universe whose pussy you’ve claimed. And then...you’ll transfer your bubbling nanocybotics to me to repair all the good hurt you’ve caused.”

“Fraggin’ hole, my female.” His balls throbbed with need. “You make me wild.”

“Show me that wild.” She issued that statement like a dare.

He accepted that challenge. Strike captured her lips with his. He licked and laved and speared his tongue into her mouth.

And then he drove her down on him. Not with his full strength. His female was strong and brave, but she was also human, and her kind was fragile. He wielded enough of his power to create heat between them when they connected.

As she descended, he mouthed over her chin, along her neck, and between her breasts, leaving a trail of his bubbling nanocybotics, as she called them, over her brown skin.

She gasped and clutched his skull, burrowing her fingers into the short strands of his hair.

He facilitated her retreat and then her advance, her retreat and then her advance. As he propelled her downward, he sucked on her breasts, leaving breeding marks over her curves. And he thrust upward, delving deep inside her.

It wasn’t enough. He needed more. They needed more.

Strike stood with her, not breaking their rhythm. He laid her over the console. She hooked her ankles above his clenched ass.

Then he pistoned in and out of her with all the savageness in his tormented soul. Everything he emotionally had, he shared with her. Grunts escaped his lips. His female panted and held onto his shoulders. Sweat glistened on her skin. She sparkled underneath him.

Pressure formed on the base of his simulated spine. He was already close to completion.

She matched his pace. Her arms and legs quivered. Her pussy walls closed around his shaft.

Fraggin’ hole. He had never felt so needed, so essential, so alive. Breeding with his female was better than being of service. It surpassed the joy of a plan well executed. It was everything he hadn’t processed he was looking for.

And more. She was more.

“My Strike.” Her claiming words stripped layers of his restraint. “Can’t. Yes. Need. Oh.”

She didn’t have to say more.

He drove into her. Hard. And he rotated his hips, grinding against her clit.

“My Strike.” She screamed his name and flung herself upward.

He caught her with his form, preventing her escape.

She retaliated by squeezing his cock with her intimate flesh.

“My Kesser.” It was his turn to verbally claim his female. He tilted his head back and howled as pleasure ripped through him.

Strike’s auditory and visual systems temporarily malfunctioned under that fervent onslaught. His universe turned dark and silent.

But he wasn’t alone. His female gyrated against him. She constricted around his shaft again.

He came a second time, and his bliss ratcheted upward. That loop repeated over and over and over until he had nothing left. He was drained by the good breeding, by his female, his genetic match, his little human.

She became still under him.

He braced himself above her with his arms. That alleviated some of the weight of his big form, sparing his fragile human from a complete flattening.

Heartbeats passed.

Strike’s rapture decreased to manageable levels. His systems rebooted.

Her beautiful face filled his view. The red specks in her brown eyes glowed like the flames after a missile attack.

He hooked his arms around his female and fell back into the captain’s chair, taking her with him. She landed where she belonged, on his lap. Their bodies remained joined. His cock was in her pussy.

“Fates.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “Transferring your nanocybotics did more than repair me, my Strike. I thought I was going to die at one point in that fuck. That was how good it was. The pleasure was off the charts.”

“You’ll never die, my female.” Seeking reassurance that she was fully functional, Strike inhaled deeply.

She now sported his nanocybotics. They would safeguard her from many types of damage.

And he would protect her from the rest.

“You’re mine.” Once they rescued her friend and that friend’s male, completing her mission, he would complete his own assignment.

Then he would take her back to the Dauntless. If the cyborg council deemed his accomplishments and his competency adequate, he would be awarded control of his own ship.

Strike lifted his chin. He would be worthy of his female.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kesser fucked her cyborg until his eyes went dark two more times. She came harder than she’d ever come in her lifespan. The pleasure was soul-shredding. And all of her bubbled and fizzed after those encounters.

They took a brief break from the fucking. That was necessary. She couldn’t lift her arms. That was how exhausted she was.

She slept. Strike recharged.

When she woke, they ate nourishment bars. She drank some beverage. They tidied themselves with cleaning cloths. Her cyborg ran some scans. Nothing was around them except open space.

They fucked once more. And they were in the midst of their second boinkfest. She was draped over the console, with the main viewscreen behind her, and he was drilling her into that surface with his huge cock. After four full fucks, she should have become accustomed to his size.

She hadn’t gotten used to it. And she doubted she ever would. The male filled every part of her. She lifted into his thrust, meeting him halfway. Their bodies smacked together. She was driven back into the console. Her ass slapped that hard surface. She gasped.

He pulled away and then slammed into her before she could recover. Her cyborg was a beast. And she loved that. She relished his wildness, reveled in the knowledge she made him that way.

His gaze never left hers. With him, she wasn’t a support being. She was his entire focus.

Sweat dripped between her breasts. Her muscles ached. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders as he ravished her. Her pussy hummed with sensual abuse.

“More.” She pushed him further. Because she could. And because she was close. Fulfillment was in sight. Bands of need, of wanting were wrapping tighter and tighter around her chest.

“You’re fearless.” His eyes flashed with bright-blue energy, and he took her harder, deeper.

Her kind called a permanent relationship a merger. She hadn’t fully understood that term until now. Those beings must fuck like she and her cyborg were fucking. Until their molecules merged.

“Mine.” Strike grunted. “Mine.”

Both his sounds and his claiming were delightfully primitive. And her body responded. Her wetness slicked his shaft. Her thighs trembled.

“Mine.” She added her song to his. “Mine.”

He fucked her. She fucked him right back. A sense of connection, of rightness snapped and sizzled in the air between them.

They were where they were supposed to be. They were doing what they were supposed to be doing. Their joining was destined. And it was glorious.

It was gloriously intense. Kesser’s passions compounded with each passing moment. They were building to a feverish pitch, and she questioned if she’d survive that test.

She’d endured the previous fucks.

The current ravishment was, as she’d recklessly requested, more.

Fates. She clenched her jaw. It might be the one to break her.

She didn’t know if she could take the tension. It pulled her in every direction.

“My Strike.” That was a plea for mercy.

“I process. What you need.” He drew back his hips, withdrawing to his tip.

She liked that he kept that physical link between them. It was a kink she hadn’t realized she had. She craved that continued bond with him.

“I don’t know that you⁠—”

He adjusted his angle ever-so-slightly and thrust fully into her. His unrelenting form hit her clit.

She detonated with bliss. “Mine.” Kesser shrieked as she levitated off the console.

Her cyborg stopped her ascent, caging her between his bulging biceps and his rock-hard chest. She squeezed his cock with her intimate walls and raked his skin with her fingernails.

Her savageness shocked her, but it seemed to stimulate him.

“Mine.” He howled his ownership of her, pushed deeper, and joined her in rapture. Cum shot from his tip and blasted her inner flesh with heat and effervescence and more ecstasy.

His eyes went dark. His handsome face was stark with passion.

Kesser was rendered helpless under that sensory assault. She came again. That euphoria destroyed the little that was left of her mind. She writhed and twisted under him. And she coaxed more enticing essence from his form.

He filled her to overflowing. The bubbling spread from her core to the tip of her head, her fingers, her toes. It felt like a million clones of him were nipping at her body with their lips.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She shook with the force of her release.

Those gyrations eased only when her cyborg stilled. The elation became manageable.

She sagged against the console. “You hadn’t lied.” She tried to smooth the marks she’d left on his chest. “It is always like this.”

“Always.” He kissed her forehead. The light had returned to his eyes.

He fell back into the captain’s chair, taking her with him.

Because the connection with her was important to him also. She felt that truth in his embrace, and she cherished that revelation.

She snuggled against her male. “I shouldn’t feel this happy.” She sighed. “It isn’t right. Talley has been abducted and must be scared. She could be hurt or…worse.”

Kesser couldn’t think about that worse, not without breaking down emotionally.

She didn’t know how she would survive if something happened to Talley. They’d been friends for seemingly forever. She loved the rebellious, rarely serious female.

“The training under the Humanoid Alliance, our manufacturer, was brutal.” Strike played with her hair. “We had to kill or be killed. The Humanoid Alliance often tortured us. They said it was to test us.”

She heard the but in his tone. The beings likely tortured his kind because they could. Because they were cruel individuals and they didn’t view cyborgs as living beings.

Seeking to comfort him with her touch, she pressed her lips against his chest.

His muscles rippled under her.

“My brethren died every planet rotation, every session. Yet we laughed at smallest of things over our transmission lines. We joked. We gibed.” He paused for a heartbeat, tilted his head as though he was thinking about those rare moments. “Joy leads to hope for the future. Hope for the future is necessary for survival.” He met her gaze. “For everyone’s survival. Including your friend’s.”

Their boinking had given her more confidence and a few new ideas for their upcoming mission. “Then I shouldn’t feel guilty about being happy.” She pushed that useless emotion away. “And I should hope Talley is also experiencing moments of joy while she waits to be rescued.”

Her friend had a greater sense of adventure than Kesser did. She was with a male who clearly adored her. And Talley must know Kesser would do everything she could to bring her home safely.

She might be having fun.

Doing that would be very much like Talley.

That thought gave Kesser some comfort.

“What’s the plan once we reach Powlus Zetus?” Knowing that information would make her feel better also. “Neither Talley nor I can run as fast as you do. I suspect Tsadok can’t move that quickly either.”

Powluks were strong. But her mom hadn’t mentioned their former foes had super speed as one of their other abilities.

“You can’t carry all of us.” She lowered her gaze to Strike’s broad shoulders. He only had two of them. “How do we leave without getting caught?”

“We kill everyone.” Her cyborg’s tone was casual.

“We can’t kill everyone.” She lifted her gaze and stared at him. That solution horrified her. “The idea is to prevent an intergalactic incident, not create a bigger one. And dozens of dead Powluks, even bad Powluks, will cause an intergalactic incident. Fates. It could restart the war between our planets.”

More beings would then die. Their loved ones would suffer as she had suffered after her dad’s death. And all her mom’s hard work to negotiate the peace agreement would be undone.

It would be a disaster.

“We stun everyone.” Strike immediately amended the plan.

She greatly appreciated that. Relief whooshed out of her. “Yes, we stun them. No one has to die.”

“And we blow up all their ships.” He added another step.

Ships could be replaced. “We could do that.”

“We’ll increase the intensity of the stunning.” He returned to that part. “That’ll immobilize them for a longer duration.”

“A longer duration is good.” That would give them more time to escape.

He threaded his fingers through her curls. “The pain will be greater, but I’ll keep it within human survivability ranges.”

“Wait. What?” She frowned. “Stunning the Powluks will hurt them?”

“They’ll survive.” He repeated that fact. “We could shoot them with projectiles, aiming for their legs. There’s not a 100.0000 percent probability they’ll survive that, however.”

Being shot in the leg would hurt also. “We can work with the stunning.” If they were the tough warriors others claimed they were, they shouldn’t complain about that pain. Much.

“And we’ll stun everyone we see.” Strike wound one strand of her hair around his right index finger. “Not merely the abductors.”

She didn’t like the thought of hurting everyone. “If we see kids⁠—”

“I’ll graze them.” Her cyborg had a response for that situation also. “That’ll minimize their pain.”

Fates. She wasn’t happy with that plan. But she didn’t have a better one. “I’ll graze them also.” She had that ability. “I’m okay using a gun.”

Her mom had insisted she learn how to wield an assortment of weapons. Training sessions were regularly scheduled for that purpose.

There’d been a chance, a small one but it had existed, Syndiculous 5 would have had to send living fighters into the war with Powlus Zetus. Her mom wanted her to be prepared for that possibility.

“If I had a gun.” Kesser’s lips twisted. In her rush to rescue her friend, she hadn’t thought of obtaining weapons. “All I had in my pockets when we left was the handheld, and I doubt I could stun many beings with that.”

“A handheld could be modified for that purpose.” Strike surprised her with that information.

She was beginning to suspect he could turn any device or object into a weapon.

That seemed to be a cyborg thing.

“But it isn’t necessary to modify the handheld.” Her male gave her an adorably naughty smile. “I should have a weapon you’ll like.”

* * *

Half a shift later, Kesser discovered that had been the understatement of the universe.

“You brought all these weapons with you?” She looked down with amazement at the collection spread out on the training chamber’s floor. “Were you anticipating outfitting an entire army of warriors?”

“A warrior should be prepared for any situation.” Her cyborg picked up a small gun. He was flying the ship remotely using the guidance system. “There’re more in the cargo hold if you don’t see a weapon you like.”

“I’m only familiar with this one.” She chose the CR-748 blaster. “This is standard issue for Syndicul military. We use a long gun also.”

“A long gun wouldn’t be practical for this assignment.” Strike holstered the small gun and took the blaster from her. He examined it. “I can modify the stun function on this.”

“If you can’t modify it—” She used his word for it. “—I’m sure I can find something else to use.”

He seemed to have every gun in the universe on the floor before them.

“It’s best that you use a weapon you’re familiar with.” He perused the selection and chose another gun. “This one is similar to the CR-748 blaster. It was crafted by the same designer.”

He handed it to her.

It fit in her palm like the blaster did. She pointed it at an interior wall. The aim was the same. “I’ll need to try it out, but it feels good to me.”

“You can try it out now.” He must have remote access to the chamber’s functions. Projected targets appeared in the middle of the space.

“The target will sense a stunning?” Kesser changed the gun’s settings. In the past, she had always practiced with projectiles. “I want to see how that would feel during the rescue.”

“The target can sense a stunning.” Strike nodded.

She aimed for the center of the target and tapped the trigger. The burst of energy hit exactly where she wanted it to hit. “The recoil is less than the CR-748.”

She rolled her shoulders back. It would be less wearing to use.

“That was one of the improvements.” Strike edged closer to her.

The target shifted. It swung to the left and then to the right.

Kesser aimed and fired again. It was another perfect hit. “I practiced on moving targets also.”

“There weren’t any targets during our training.” Strike wrapped his arms around her waist. His body armor-covered chest pressed against her flight suit-clad back. That physical connection relaxed her. “We practiced on living beings.”

His comments about his training made her heart ache. But she listened closely, to both his words and the emotions in his voice, because it was a part of her male.

“I’ve never had to end a lifespan.” The target spun. She aimed and fired. The ray of energy hit the center of her faceless virtual foe. “I don’t know if I have that ability.”

Her mom told her of the deaths during the war with the Powluks…because she had to tell someone who would share her grief.

And Kesser cried over every lifespan lost.

“I’ll ensure you never have to uncover that truth about yourself.” Strike said that with the strength of a vow. “Your guns will always be set on stun.”

“I’d appreciate that.” She didn’t ask if his guns would always be on that setting also.

Because she knew the answer to that question. In the future, if killing was necessary, her cyborg would complete the task.

So she wouldn’t have to experience that trauma. He would protect her in that way.

During the mission, thankfully, he wouldn’t have to make that emotional sacrifice.

Neither of them would be killing anyone.

She fired at the target again and again. The difficulty level of the targets gradually increased. After fifteen rounds, Kesser couldn’t hit the center of them. After twenty-one rounds, she couldn’t hit any part of the target.

“I should’ve practiced more.” Her shoulders slumped. She hadn’t known she’d be flying to another planet to embark on a dangerous rescue mission.

“Very few humans can hit a target moving that quickly.” Her cyborg kissed the back of her head. “You did well, my female.”

She could do better. “I’ll train.” Her confidence rebounded. She had time. And a plan. “By the time we reach the planet, I’ll be better.”

“We’ll train together.” His warm breath wafted on her neck, and she trembled with delight. “We’re taking on this mission as a team.” His voice lowered to a stimulating rumble. “We have to move like a team.”

That sounded extremely erotic. “Will we be wearing garments while we’re moving like a team?”

“During the mission, we’ll be wearing garments.” He mouthed over her skin, and her toes curled in her boots. “On this vessel, garments aren’t required.”

“I don’t think breeding qualifies as training.” She grinned.

“It’s preparation.” The bulge in his body armor became more pronounced. “The more we breed, the more of my nanocybotics you’ll sport, and the quicker you’ll repair should you be damaged.” He nuzzled against her. “And according to data gathered from already matched cyborgs, breeding increases a warrior’s strength and speed.”

“You’ll be faster if I fuck you?” Kesser looked back at him.

That sounded…unlikely. But him accompanying her on the mission had been equally unlikely. And there he was, standing right behind her. Looking handsome and strong and sexy.

“I’ll be significantly faster.” Her cyborg’s eyes glowed with passion, and that excited her. “That’ll increase the probability of our success.”

It would increase the probability. It wouldn’t guarantee their success. Concern battled with desire within her. “There’s a chance we could fail.”

“There’s always a probability of failure.” He skimmed his lips over her right cheek, leaving a trail of sexy bubbling on her skin. “But that probability is low. And with training, all types of training.” He splayed his fingers over her flight suit-clad stomach. “We can decrease that probability even more.” He kissed along her jaw. “We wouldn’t be taking on this rescue mission if I projected we’d fail.”

She frowned. If he thought he could stop her…

“I couldn’t risk your lifespan.” Sincerity edged his voice. “You’re too precious to me.”

He blasted her protest apart with those words.

“You’re precious to me also.” A solar cycle ago, she would’ve said no one could grow to care for another being in the short length of time they’d known each other. Yet that had happened. There was an undeniably strong connection between them. “I don’t want to risk your lifespan either.”

She covered his hands with hers.

Silence stretched. A moment of togetherness, of belonging, bound them together. Their breathing synchronized until they felt almost like one being.

Kesser leaned against her male.

The two of them would be facing possible peril, but they would be doing that as a team. Neither of them would be alone. She’d have his back. And he would have hers.

That was tremendously reassuring.

“So I guess we know what we have to do.” Her voice was husky. “We have to increase your strength and speed as much as possible.” She wiggled her ass, intentionally teasing her cyborg. “And we have to increase my healing abilities.”

“We’ll breed?” Strike’s body armor-contained cock bobbed.

She turned. “We’ll breed.” Kesser gazed up at him.

Her need for him must have showed. His eyes sparked with blue energy.

“We’ll breed.” Her cyborg scooped her into his arms.

She laughed. Training with her cyborg would be a joy.

CHAPTER NINE

They trained hard over the following planet rotations.

His female had adequate shooting skills…for a human. Strike’s chest expanded with pride. She learned quickly, and they soon had a functional plan for the rescue.

They bred three or four times a planet rotation. That tightened their bond. They chattered about their pasts and about their present. He held her while she slept. They consumed nourishment bars, and his little human drank the beverage his brethren had wisely stocked for him. He cleaned his female’s flight suit and her curvy form. She did the same for him, which often led to more breeding.

Eleven ships had been spotted en route. Strike had altered their modified freighter’s trajectory. And they had evaded detection by those vessels.

He’d transmitted with Captain, relaying that he was traveling to Powlus Zetus, the next planet, to uncover if those humanoids had detected the pulsing sound. There was discussion of the minor issues on board the Dauntless.

Strike didn’t share with Captain or any of his brethren that he had found his female. It was out of spec for a cyborg to withhold information, and he would tell them eventually. But for now, he savored having her existence to himself.

It wasn’t fully to himself. His female communicated with her mom every planet rotation.

She currently sat in the chair beside his. He had modified her background to look like she was situated in a different area of the private chambers her mom projected she temporarily inhabited.

Her friend’s voice had been added to the audio. It would sound as though the female was singing in another chamber.

Strike had deleted all other indications of his female’s location.

“Talley’s feeling a bit better. As you can hear.” His female rolled her eyes. An unidentified illness had been given for her extended absence. “And I thankfully didn’t catch whatever she had. But I thought it was best to tell the academy I wouldn’t be working there for another ten planet rotations.”

“You don’t have to stay away from home that long.” His female’s mom resembled her. She had similar red flecks in her brown eyes. “I want to see your face whether you’re ill or not.” She sighed. “I miss you, Kesser.”

“I miss you too.” That truth rang in his female’s voice. “But I don’t want to risk getting you sick. The planet depends on you, Mom.”

“You’re my priority.” Her mom loved her. That was palpable. “You always have been.”

“Awww… I know that.” His female sniffled. The declaration of caring had damaged her emotional system. “I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

“Do that.” The older human female nodded. “And send Talley home also. Her dad…” She made an exasperated sound. “He asks me about his daughter again and again. Do you know what he asked me at the Defense Funding Meeting?”

“What?” Strike’s female leaned forward.

“Did I truly think the two of you were in the rented private chambers?” Her mom snorted. “I told him where else would you be? I had showed him that first recording you’d sent me. He saw the two of you there.”

Strike’s female swallowed hard. “Is he worried? I might be able to talk Talley into communicating with him, but you know how she is.”

“I know how they both are.” Her mom rolled her eyes. “Thank the Fates we don’t have that type of relationship. And no, Talley’s dad wasn’t worried. Which is very strange.” Her forehead furrowed much in the same way her daughter’s did when she was processing intensely. “He’s questioning your whereabouts, yet he isn’t worried the two of you…specifically Talley…are in trouble.”

“That is strange,” Strike’s female looked around her and then whispered. “Because if Talley wasn’t ill, she likely would be in trouble or causing it, at the very least.”

Her mom laughed. “That’s Talley.”

Strike’s female grinned.

“But back to Talley’s dad.” Her mom returned to that subject. “It’s almost like he thinks he knows where you are.”

“He does know where we are—we’re here.” Strike’s female shook her head.

“Exactly.” Her mom shook her head also. The handheld device on the horizontal support in front of her hummed. “I have to go.” She groaned. “There are more discussions over the defense funding. Certain beings don’t want it decreased. But send me a communication later this planet rotation. I want your insights on my speech for the sunrise event.” Her mom kissed her palm and touched the recording device. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mom.” His female kissed her palm and held it out also.

The communication ended. The image on the main viewscreen reverted to that of space. Powlus Zetus wasn’t yet visible. But it would be observable soon. They were quicky approaching the planet.

“I miss her.” His female wiped the wetness from her cheeks.

Strike scooped her out of her seat and set her on his lap, where she belonged. “Communicating with her every planet rotation isn’t sufficient?”

He sprinkled fast fervent kisses over her face. His nanocybotics should assist in repairing her.

“No.” His female sighed and snuggled into him. “But it will have to be enough. For now.” She gazed up at him. “I hate lying to her also. But that’s necessary to do. You heard her. You heard how busy she is and how much pressure she’s under.”

He also heard how much her mom relied on her insights. His clever female helped shape policy, yet he projected no one, other than her mom and himself, processed how important she was to Syndiculous 5.

The more Strike uncovered about his female’s responsibilities and her relationship with her mom the less confidence he had that she would want to relocate to the Dauntless or any other cyborg-controlled ship.

Their future would look different than the one he had planned for them.

“Telling my mom about the rescue mission would add to the pressure. No.” His female’s chin lifted. “We have to handle this ourselves. And we won’t say anything to my mom until after Talley and Tsadok are safe.”

“We can handle this ourselves.” He would reconfigure his plan for their future later.

Completing the mission while safeguarding his fragile little human was his priority now.

* * *

They neared their destination. Powlus Zetus became visible on the main viewscreen.

Strike enlarged the image so his female could see it.

“It’s so…green.” She stared up at the planet. “I thought it would be barren and dry and lifeless. We fought so many battles there.”

“They had much to fight for.” He reluctantly lifted her off his lap, stood, and then set her back down in the captain’s chair. “We have much to fight for also.”

He bent over and captured her lips, kissing her with all the passion, all the adoration in his big cyborg heart. She opened to him, and their tongues engaged, sliding, tumbling, touching.

Strike yearned to extend that fervent embrace forever.

That wasn’t possible. He straightened.

“So much to fight for.” She touched her lips. Her eyes were slightly unfocussed.

He grinned. “We’ll activate the projection first.” He claimed the chair beside hers and engaged that program.

The image of an older, gray-haired female was overlaid over his female. He displayed the footage the Powluks would see on the main viewscreen.

The projected female waved her hands.

“That will never not be unsettling.” His female’s voice originated from the projected female’s mouth.

“The projection is in sync.” He activated the audio next.

“That’s good.” The projected female’s voice was slightly deeper. “Fates.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “It amazes me how you’ve made me sound like her. I doubt my mom could tell the difference.”

“Your speech pattern is your own.” Strike breathed deeply.

His female’s delectable scent also remained the same.

“I’ll stick to our script.” His female had led the process of crafting those words. She had met the other female several times in the past, and they had studied the recorded footage in the databases together.

Strike donned the black cape he’d worn on the surface of Syndiculous 5.

The material, fabricated from a simulated vegetation, should render him invisible to the Powluk systems.

He wrapped the garment around his form, drew up the hood, and tucked his booted feet under his ass. “I’m running a life-form scan.” He accessed the modified freighter’s systems remotely to accomplish that task.

“You were wearing that cloak the moment we met.” The voice belonged to the projected female. The wonder and the something more, an emotion he dared not project, was sourced from his female.

“One life-form is detected—a human female.” The cloak had successfully blocked the scan.

“That’s me.” The projected female grinned.

His lips curled upward. “That’s you.”

“I can do this.” She sounded as though she was speaking to herself. “I’ve talked with her, watched her, heard stories from my mom about her. This⁠—”

Lights flashed on the console.

“We’re being hailed.” He informed his female of that fact. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” She linked her fingers in front of the stomach as the female she was mimicking often did. And she held her head in the exact same way.

His female would be successful in her much-needed deception.

Strike opened communications.

An image of a male tusked Powluk appeared on the main viewscreen. “Who are you, and why are you entering our territory?” His tone was belligerent.

“I’m Vera Inada, the defense procurement agent for Syndiculous 5.” His female recited the practiced script perfectly. “I’m here to meet with Powlus Zetus’s First Zetus.”

The Powluk wrinkled his nose. “Your kind’s Minister of Defense was just here. Are you planning another war?”

Strike’s female blinked. “Our planets are at peace.”

“That peace won’t last long. According to the rumors,” the male muttered under his breath.

Strike heard him. Clearly.

“You got an authorization code?” The Powluk asked that question louder.

Strike’s female recited the 9 digit code Strike displayed on the main viewscreen for her.

The Powluk grunted. “Running a life-form scan.”

“Noted.” Strike’s female curtly nodded.

“One life-form detected.” The male gazed at her. “Suppose you count as one of those.”

Strike’s female glared at him and said nothing.

The being she was imitating often had that same response to insults directed her way.

“You can land.” The Powluk waved one of his hands.

“Thank—”

The male closed communications before Strike’s female could fully reply.

She blew out her breath. “He’s no charmer, that’s for certain.”

“He projects the peace agreement won’t hold for a long duration.” That was…worrisome. Strike didn’t want to bring his fragile human into a battle zone.

He flew the modified freighter toward the planet. And he ended the projection and voice-modification programs.

His female’s beautiful face became visible once more.

“Some of the Powluks enjoy battle a little too much.” Her voice had returned to being her own.

And his body responded to it. His cock hardened. His circuits hummed with desire.

“They should be happy the war has ended.” His female frowned. “Their side experienced heavy losses. It was devastating to hear about. There was so much death. Everywhere.” The hurting sound she made caused Strike’s fingers to fold into fists. He wanted to defend her against that emotional damage. “But warriors wage war, I guess.” She shook her head. “That’s what they do.”

Second-in-commands were promoted to captains and gained control of their own ships. Strike stood. That’s what they did.

It was the path his captain and his brethren expected him to travel.

He had never been 100.0000 percent certain that progression was what he wanted. And now, after meeting his female, that path didn’t appeal to him at all.

Because it wouldn’t appeal to her.

That left him…wandering. He hadn’t found a path to replace the one he had been following. Not yet. He had no projection of their future beyond their current mission.

Only that he wanted to be with his female. Always.

“Some of my brethren enjoy battle a little too much.” Strike lifted her, claimed the captain’s chair, and placed her on his lap. That physical contact with his female refocused him on their current situation. “They would have that in common with the Powluks.”

“They would have that in common?” She turned her head and gazed at him. “You don’t enjoy battle? You’re a warrior also.”

“I prefer peace.” He had seen sufficient death and suffering in his long lifespan.

Protecting his female was his priority. Peace would safeguard her more thoroughly than war ever could.

“I prefer peace also.” She leaned back into him.

He savored that fortification of their connection.

She wrinkled her nose. “We can’t allow a small group of Powluks to use Talley and Tsadok’s abduction as a reason to restart the war.”

If his female had authorized that action, he’d been willing to kill every Powluk on the planet’s surface to keep her safe. They would have all died by his hands.

But she projected that would cause damage to the peace agreement.

Instead of killing the enemy, he was to stun them…aggressively. His lips flattened. They would hurt for having abducted his female’s friend and that friend’s male.

As they moved closer to the planet, Strike ran a life-form scan. “There’s one human detected in the Tsicariuk Plains region—a female.” He noted the coordinates of that being.

“That must be Talley.” His female smiled. “It has to be her.”

Not having sufficient inputs to verify the being’s identity, Strike remained silent.

He guided their modified freighter downward.

“I wish we could fly over the settlement and take a look at it.” His female damaged her bottom lip with her teeth. “But yes, I know that would warn the abductors we’re coming.” She addressed her own proposal. “They might harm Talley and Tsadok before we could reach them. So we can’t do that.”

Strike dipped his head in agreement. They couldn’t do that. “We have to rely on the life-form scan coordinates and the intel in the databases.”

He’d drawn information from both the Syndicul and the Powluk systems, cross-referencing it to compile a more-complete image of the settlement.

“That intel should be fairly accurate.” His female placed her hands on his cloak and body armor-covered forearms. “The battle against the Powluks near the Tsicariuk Plains was one of the last ones waged. They refused to surrender.” Lines appeared on her forehead. “I’m surprised they had enough resources to organize the abduction. Their settlement was nearly flattened. And they lost a lot of warriors.”

“They must have, at the minimum, one ship.” That had been a required part of the abduction. “They reached your planet.”

“They needed more than a ship to land on Syndiculous 5.” His female’s eyes widened. “They’d need authorization. From a Syndicul.”

“I didn’t require authorization from a Syndicul.” He had accessed the security system and had given himself those permissions.

“They’re not cyborgs.” His female shook her head. “Powluks aren’t known for embracing technology. They have primitive systems. That are barely usable. And they’ve expressed no interest in upgrading them.”

“Beings can modify themselves if they receive sufficient motivation.” Strike kissed the top of his female’s head. She was his motivation. He’d alter his entire life plan for her.

That included, if she stated that preference, relocating permanently to Syndiculous 5 once all missions had been completed.

That wouldn’t be a hardship. The planet had everything a being required, including tasks, like updating their security system, to challenge him.

And it would please his female.

He very much wanted to please her.

“Losing almost everyone they loved would be sufficient motivation.” She conceded that the Powluks could’ve gained the technological skills required to access her home planet’s security system.

Strike said nothing. He lowered the modified freighter to the planet’s surface.

The remnants of battle were apparent as far away from the settlement as their chosen landing site. The grooves in the soil were deep. There were no trees left to the east of them.

He cut the engines.

His female rose to her booted feet. “If anything should happen to me⁠—”

“Nothing will happen to you.” He would ensure she remained fully functional.

“If anything should happen to me.” She repeated. Her expression was solemn. “Tell my mom I’m sorry and I love her.”

“She processes you love her.” He yearned to hear his female say the human love words to him. Strike stood. That would bring him much happiness.

But she wasn’t yet ready to take that step.

“Tell her.” She clasped his hands. Her fingers trembled. “And know, my Strike, that these past planet rotations have been the happiest of my lifespan. If I die, I’ll have no regrets because taking on this mission has led me to meeting you.”

Fraggin’ hole. “You won’t die. I—” His words failed him.

The prospect of losing her had purged his databases.

Seeking to show her how he felt, he kissed his female hard, infusing the embrace with every turbulent emotion he was experiencing. She received his fervent adoration, his processor-straining fear, his unfettered desperation, and his quiet reverence.

He didn’t hold anything back. She got it all.

When their embrace broke, they both breathed heavily.

Strike leaned his forehead against hers. “You won’t die. We’ll have endless more planet rotations together.”

“And we’ll rescue Talley and Tsadok.” She gave him a tremulous smile. Her beauty threatened to bring him to his body armor-clad knees. “Weapons check.”

She slipped her hands under his cloak and ran her fingers over the guns and blades strapped to his form. Her touching drove him wild.

He did the same for her, skimming his palms over her curves, noting the guns strapped to her flight suit-covered thighs, the blades in her boots, the other weapons hidden in her pockets.

His female didn’t have his strength. She couldn’t carry his arsenal, but she did have sufficient firepower…for a human.

“You’re ready.” She nodded.

“We’re ready.” He slung the pack they’d stocked over his right shoulder, and he picked his female up and draped her over his other shoulder.

“I’m protecting your rear.” She drew two guns.

He chuckled. “You’re protecting the rear.” He carried her through the modified freighter.

“This view is similar to the one I saw the planet rotation we met.” She delighted him with that observation. “The pack is extra. Your rear…I mean…the rear is the same.”

He laughed harder. “Focus, my female.” They had a dangerous mission to complete.

“I’m focused, my male.” Her claiming words warmed his chest.

His female was the most important being in the universe to him.

He would safeguard her with his lifespan.

CHAPTER TEN

The rescue portion of the rescue mission was underway. Kesser’s body vibrated with excitement. And fear. She was no longer a support player. She and her cyborg were the main participants.

Strike carried her out of the modified freighter. She breathed in, counted to ten, breathed out, breathed in, counted to ten, breathed out. The air was warm and humid and smelled like freshly cut vegetation. That helped to calm her.

Her male set small perimeter alarms around their ship. She balanced on his shoulder and watched for hostiles, as he called them.

The bushes behind him moved. She aimed in that direction. Something hopped out of the greenery. She tapped her triggers.

A cute little furry creature with triangle-shaped ears froze in place.

“The stunning function works on creatures.” She whispered that observation.

Her cyborg’s shoulders shook. He was laughing at her.

His joy eased some of her guilt about stunning the little furry creature.

He ran with her. Strike moved quickly but not at his top speed. He had explained, during their training, that it was possible some Powluks had figured out a way to block life-form scans, similar to how his cloak had rendered that process ineffective. Caution was necessary.

The slower pace allowed Kesser to survey their surroundings. She scanned the terrain with her guns drawn, intent on guarding her cyborg’s back.

As they moved, the devastation wrought on the landscape from battles became more and more extreme. Vegetation was carved away until there was only bare soil and rock left. Debris littered the ground. There were blasted-apart robots and parts of ships and unidentified twisted strips of metal scattered everywhere.

Her planet had been untouched by the war. Powlus Zetus had been changed forever.

She no longer wondered why some Powluks held onto their anger toward the Syndiculs. They lived with the reminder of what her kind had done to them every cursed planet rotation.

Strike twitched his head to the left.

She aimed in that direction, but her cyborg pressed the triggers of his guns before she spotted the male. It was a direct hit. The barest hint of a shoulder frozen in place was visible behind a partially blown-apart engine.

After that, the shooting was continuous. Strike utilized both of his weapons at the same time, shooting in different directions. She shot at anything that moved. Or that she believed moved. She downed some blowing pieces of garbage and a few shadows, but she also stunned three, five, nine Powluk males and one Powluk female.

No children had been detected. Thankfully. She suspected…or hoped…all the younger Powluks had been relocated to a safe location.

The fully mature Powluks would’ve known someone would attempt to rescue the beings they’d abducted. They would likely seek to protect their vulnerable loved ones.

Return fire increased. Strike bobbed and weaved as he stunned beings. Projectiles flew all around Kesser. She pressed her triggers faster, shooting at everything she saw.

Her cyborg violently jerked. She felt the impact of the hit through his form.

“Are you okay?” She kept her gaze on their surroundings.

“I’ll repair.” He jerked again. And again. And again.

Fates. She swallowed her cries. Her male was taking hits.

He wore body armor, she reminded herself. That should protect him.

Her fingers ached. Her heart pained her also. She continued to shoot, hoping to make a difference, seeking to stop the barrage targeting them.

The onslaught decreased and then finally stopped.

They must have stunned everyone in the area.

“I’m detecting a system of tunnels under the ground.” Strike turned with her. “There’s an entrance.” He gestured with one of his gun-filled hands to a round metal door embedded in the ground. “There’s a 78.1444 percent probability that’s what the warriors were guarding.”

That explained the flurry of gunfire.

“They must be keeping Talley and Tsadok there.” She nodded.

“I don’t detect any human females on my life-form scans.” Her cyborg delivered that disappointing news. “Our target coordinates remain outside my monitoring range.” Carrying her, he approached the door to the tunnels. “But I do detect seven male humanoids. They’re located directly below us.”

“They’re waiting to ambush us.” She stiffened.

“I’m setting you down here.” Strike slid her along his big body armor-clad body until her booted feet reached the ground.

A sticky substance coated her hands. She looked at her skin. It was smeared red.

“You’re bleeding.” She gazed up at him, and her stomach flipped over. “You’re bleeding all over.”

His left cheek had been blasted apart. His metal frame showed through that carnage. Rivulets of crimson coursed down his neck. There was a big hole in his chest. A projectile or missile or something bad had penetrated his protective garment. Blood gushed from that wound also. More gashes decorated his arms. And there was a big cut on his right thigh.

“You’re fast.” She touched his chest, near that wound. “Why didn’t you dodge the projectiles?”

His gaze met hers.

And she knew why he hadn’t done that. “You were blocking them for me.”

He had protected her. With his beautiful face. And his huge form.

“I’ll repair.” His voice was gruff.

That might be true, but… “You’re in pain.”

“I’ve endured worse pain than this.” He kissed her forehead. “Focus, my female.”

She pushed away her concern. The sooner they rescue Talley and Tsadok, the sooner her cyborg would be out of danger. “I’m focused.”

“Good.” His eyes gleamed with approval. “My scans relay there’re currently no beings above ground within range. Stay here and ensure no one enters the tunnel. I’ll clear the space below us and then I’ll return for you.”

She wanted to go with him. But he would try to protect her, and that would cause him more harm, more pain. “I won’t allow anyone to get past me.” She widened her stance. “Return to me in one piece, my male.”

“I’ll return to you.” Her cyborg opened the door to the tunnel and jumped into that hole.

He dropped out of view.

The door closed. And the sound of gunfire rang out under Kesser’s booted feet.

“Fates.” Trying not to worry about the male she was starting to suspect she couldn’t live without, she perused her surroundings.

Powluks were frozen in various stages of fighting. Their hands gripped guns. One of the males’ eyes had widened. He had known he was in peril. The others were oblivious.

Time passed.

The shooting sounded farther and farther away. Her male must’ve decided to clear the entire tunnel. He⁠—

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Kesser’s attention. She swung her guns in that direction.

“The human girl can’t see me,” a thin voice sang. “I’m little, and I’m walking carefully like my daddy teached me.”

Dread gripped Kesser. It was a kid.

Strike had told her again and again during training that everyone, including children, had to be stunned. They might be armed. Or they might warn others.

She should stun the kid.

That was what she should do.

But she couldn’t do that. She didn’t want to do that.

She wouldn’t intentionally hurt a kid. “Go away.” She made a shooing motion with her guns. “It isn’t safe for you here.”

“Will you make me dead standing up too?” A cute little face peeked out from behind one of the stunned warriors. The boy had big green eyes and the most adorable tiny tusks.

“They’re not dead.” She couldn’t allow the child to think that, to feel the same sort of grief her mom and she had felt. “They just can’t move right now.”

“You can’t move, Hattok?” The boy gazed up at the warrior. “Hattok?” He said that louder.

“He can’t speak either.” She looked around them. Did the child not have a caregiver?

Or was he an intentional distraction? A chill skittered down her spine.

“Oh. Is it a game?” The boy’s eyes lit with excitement.

“Yes, it’s a game.” She grabbed onto that explanation. “You have to hide before my male returns or you’ll lose the game.”

“I hide.” The boy ran in the opposite direction. “I hide real good.”

Kesser blew out her breath. The kid was gone. If he stayed hidden, he should remain safe.

She turned, surveying her surroundings. Nothing else moved. No one shot at her.

Moments passed.

A sprig of greenery swayed in the breeze. She imagined the space completely covered in vegetation. It must have been beautiful.

The war had decimated that nature. To lose all that⁠—

The door to the tunnel opened.

“I’ve cleared a section of the tunnel.” Strike’s beloved face appeared. He sported more gashes on his countenance.

Her male was a bloody mess. But he was alive.

Gratitude filled her.

“Come.” He held out his hands.

She ran to him. “Did you see any signs Talley and Tsadok might be down there?”

“My scans picked up a human female life-form to the east of us.” Her cyborg swung her over his shoulder. His pack was missing. He must have left it below ground.

“That has to be Talley.” Hope warmed Kesser’s heart.

Her best friend lived also.

“There’s a high probability it’s your friend.” Strike released his grip on the vertical railing.

They dropped into a dark abyss.

Kesser pressed her lips together to silence her squeak of surprise, and she wrapped her arms around her male more securely.

He soundlessly landed with her into a surprisingly spacious, well-lit space. It was the width of a regular hallway.

Her cyborg ran, carrying her, she suspected, toward the east and the human-life-form reading he’d detected.

That was proof Talley was alive.

Powluks were frozen in place along their route. Strike weaved with her between the warriors, not reducing his speed.

One of the males shifted a hand. Or it could have been a trick of the light.

She didn’t take any chances and stunned him again.

Her cyborg grunted.

That sounded like approval.

She didn’t deserve that commendation. Her lips twisted. She hadn’t stunned the Powluk boy.

The kid might be telling the entire group about them as they progressed. Her mercy could lead to a possible ambush.

She tightened her grip on her guns.

Strike carried her deeper and deeper into the tunnels. Her cyborg ran and ran and ran.

They navigated a curve in the underground path.

He slowed. “There are two humanoid males and one human female situated ahead of us.”

“One of those humanoid males is likely Tsadok.” She tilted her head to the side. “That leaves one abductor, and there are two of us. I like those odds.”

Her cyborg set her down. “You’ll stay behind me at all times.”

She didn’t argue with that decision. He was wearing body armor.

And he was the more-skilled shooter.

Kesser followed him along the tunnels.

Water trickled along the rock walls. The air was warm and a bit musky.

Her tread was obscenely loud to her ears. She tried to walk as quietly as she could.

“Fraggin’ hole.” Strike cursed under his breath.

“Stop right there.” A deep voice issued that command in the universal language.

Her cyborg obeyed the order. He braced his booted feet apart. And he didn’t lower his guns.

Kesser was unable to see anything other than his big form.

She ducked under one of his arms.

A Powluk had one of his arms wrapped around an extremely limp Talley. And he held a gun in the other hand to her friend’s head.

“Hi, Kess.” Talley grinned at her. Her gaze was unfocused.

“Hi, Talley.” Kesser summoned a smile as terror skittered through her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing gooood.” Talley’s head lolled backward. Her eyes closed.

Fates. Kesser shook her head. They had drugged her friend.

And they had likely drugged Tsadok. The male was slumped against a wall behind them.

But other than being blitzed out of their minds, they looked to be healthy. They were clean. And the garments they were wearing were tidy. Talley’s long blonde hair was braided.

“What do you want me to do, my female?” Strike asked her.

“Press that trigger, and I’ll blow the Syndicul’s head off.” The Powluk glared at him. “I don’t want to do it. The Syndicul male said I was not to hurt her. But we have a battle to finish.”

The Syndicul male had said he was not hurt Talley. One of her kind had helped to organize the abduction.

Kesser pushed that revelation aside and focused on the male’s last statement. “You have a battle to finish.” She gazed at him. “You’re restarting a war because the peace agreement was signed before the battle at Tsicariuk Plains was decided.” She couldn’t wrap her brain around that reasoning. “You would’ve lost that battle. You and every other Powluk warrior would have died.”

“We would have died with dignity.” His eyes flashed. “With our weapons in our hands.” The Powluk’s lips twisted. “We’re warriors. What purpose do we have during a time of peace?”

Kesser thought of the little boy she’d met at ground level. “You live. You raise your children. You find happiness.”

“The Syndicul male was a warrior.” The Powluk dismissed her reply. “He understood. You don’t.”

She couldn’t say anything because she didn’t comprehend his way of thinking.

“I understand.” Strike surprised her with that reply. “My kind were manufactured for battle. My brethren love fighting. But it isn’t logical to create a war when there’s another one building.”

“What?” Kesser stared at him.

“There’s another war building?” The Powluk sounded as astonished as she did.

“I was sent to your sector by my kind to investigate a pulsing sound.” Her cyborg’s tone was flat, emotionless. “There was no match to it in any of the databases. The most similar sound was that of a world-ender.”

“A world-ender,” she repeated. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“A being with a world-ender can destroy an entire planet with one press of a button.” Strike appeared grim. “The Humanoid Alliance, our former manufacturers, have killed billions of beings with their world-enders. Highly skilled warriors, offspring, and others have died. The sound we detected was more powerful than that.”

“It could destroy the entire sector.” Kesser, feeling a bit faint, leaned against him. “With a press of a button, this unknown enemy could kill us all—Syndicul, Powluk, others. We’ll all be dead.” Trepidation rolled her stomach. “How do we prevent that from happening?”

“We find the beings fabricating the weapon, and we stop them. Permanently.” Strike met the Powluk’s gaze. “Those beings won’t be unarmed. And there’s a high probability they’ll be aligned with other forces.”

“It’ll be a war to end all wars.” The Powluk’s eyes gleamed. “And there’ll be glory for any warrior fighting in it. Our names will be written in the stars.”

The male was excited about a confrontation that would decide the fate of the entire sector, of every single living being in it.

The prospect of a battle like that terrified Kesser. She pressed harder against Strike, seeking the comfort of his warmth and the reassurance of his strength.

“A warrior can’t fight two wars at once.” Her cyborg’s gaze remained locked on the Powluk.

The male looked at him, looked down at Talley, then looked at the gun he had pointed to her friend’s head.

Fates. Kesser trembled. He was thinking about shooting her.

Strike must’ve thought that also. He stiffened. “That Syndicul is my female’s sister of the heart. I’d kill any warrior who damaged her. And that male would never fight alongside me and my brethren in the war to end all wars.”

The Powluk paused for a heartbeat.

Then he sighed. “The Powluks have a truce with the Syndiculs.” The male lowered his gun and released Talley.

Kesser’s friend sank to the stone floor.

“Oopsie.” Talley’s eyelids fluttered yet they didn’t open.

“My kind will fight alongside you and your brethren in the war to end all wars.” The Powluk’s chin lifted.

“We’ll defeat those enemies together.” Strike nodded.

“Or we’ll die on the battlefield.” The male seemed a little too eager to do that. “What do you need from us?”

“You are to train. With all weapons. In space, above ground, and under its surface.” Her cyborg gave him tasks to complete. “Mock kill quickly. Move silently. Work as a team with your own kind and with the Syndiculs. And process that glory doesn’t come without sacrifice.”

“We’re prepared for that sacrifice.” The Powluk nodded.

They all knew he was prepared. Kesser suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. The male had mentioned multiple times dying on battlefields and with weapons in his hands.

“Inform me if you receive any intel about the pulsing sound or any super weapons being fabricated.” Strike holstered his guns also. “I’ll contact you every ten planet rotations.”

“Tell no one about this.” Kesser waved at Talley and Tsadok. “No one is to know they were taken.”

“The First Zetus will only hear about it from the Second Zetus.” The Powluk male shrugged. “You can deal with Second Zetus and with your kind.” He paused. Then he looked at Strike. “Do the Syndiculs know about the sector-destroying weapon?”

“They’ll be told.” Strike glanced at Kesser.

She nodded. Her mom would have to be told. She couldn’t withhold information like that from her.

“As of this moment, me, you, my female, and some of my brethren process the threat.” Strike wrapped one of his arms around her waist. “Finding a target is easier if the target doesn’t process they’re being hunted.”

“That hastens the kill.” The Powluk’s head dipped. “We’ll find our foes and we’ll destroy them. Glory will be ours.”

Glory would be theirs. Kesser looked up at her cyborg’s projectile-ravaged face.

She wasn’t certain she was included in that grouping.

The two of them had spent many planet rotations together. They’d chattered about a variety of things, his training, her mom, his brethren, her friends, and the upcoming rescue mission.

He hadn’t said anything about a sector-destroying weapon before now. There had been vague mentions of him investigating a situation for his kind.

She’d assumed that was a trade issue or something equally minor.

But no, he was tracking down a weapon that could kill them all. Fates. And he hadn’t shared that information with her.

She suspected he had never planned to tell her. He would have simply…left.

That caused a pain in her heart she had to battle to conceal.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The most-efficient way to stop a warrior from fighting was to promise that warrior participation in a more-glorious battle.

Strike had learned that tactic from his dealings with his brethren, and it had proven successful with the Powluk. He had lowered his weapon.

His female’s friend was no longer at risk. And his female was no longer contemplating doing something brave yet highly risky.

He had protected her.

“How did you know where my warriors were?” The Powluk frowned at him. “You couldn’t have seen them. They’re one with the terrain.”

The warriors might have concealed themselves from their human former foes. They could be seen with a cyborg’s visual system.

But Strike hadn’t relied on that. “I utilized life-form scans.” He tapped his fingertips against his temple. “Cyborgs are manufactured with them.”

The male grunted.

“You can modify any handheld to automatically scan your surroundings.” He relayed that advice to the warrior as he watched his female.

She kneeled beside her incapacitated friend. “She’s passed out.”

“We gave them sedatives.” The Powluk wrinkled his nose. “We gave him a greater amount than her. They should revive in a shift or two and won’t be any worse for it.”

Strike didn’t want to wait that long. He preferred for his female and himself to be far away from the stunned Powluks when their mobility returned. “I’ll carry them.”

“Second Zetus is a large male.” The Powluk waved one of his hands at the being. “It took three of my warriors to carry him here.”

“We should wait.” Strike’s female looked unhappy with that prospect also.

They both wanted to leave the planet.

“I can carry the two of them.” Strike stomped over to his female’s friend’s male. He bent his knees, lowering his form, and he hefted the male over his right shoulder.

“I’ll be honored to fight alongside you, warrior.” The Powluk gazed at him with renewed respect.

Strike said nothing. The friend’s male was heavy for a humanoid, but cyborgs were fabricated to lift huge weapons. He could transport the two unfunctional beings.

“I’ll carry Talley.” His female must have doubted his ability to do that. She struggled to draw her friend upward. “Fates. She weighs a lot.” The friend slipped downward again. “I don’t know where she stores it.”

The friend did look alarmingly fragile. Her waist was smaller than one of his biceps.

Strike was thankful his beautiful female was built for a cyborg.

He clasped the friend by the waist and plunked her over his left shoulder. His definition of a lot varied greatly from his female’s. The friend was lighter than a long gun.

“I’ll contact you in ten planet rotations.” Strike informed the Powluk.

The male grunted.

“Stay behind me, my female.” Strike marched through the tunnels.

“I guess we’ll be moving slowly.” She followed him. “You’re carrying two grown beings. And Tsadok isn’t a small male.”

Strike huffed. They’d be moving slowly because his female was human and humans had a much-lower top speed compared to cyborgs.

“Shouldn’t I be going first?” She touched his body armor-clad back. “In case we have to stun anyone? Your hands are full.”

“My shoulders are full. My hands are free.” He could shoot while carrying the two beings. “My scans remain functional. Stay behind me.”

“You’re also wearing body armor.” She sucked air through her teeth. “Not that it helped you much this planet rotation. They blasted right through it.”

“It took them multiple shots to do that.” The body armor had helped protect him. “And they were utilizing modified projectiles.”

He’d taken a sample of those projectiles and would relay them to his brethren.

Their body armor would be improved to withstand any future barrages. That would protect warriors, including himself.

“Our kind fought with metal-encased robots, so they must’ve adjusted their projectiles to deal with them.” His female shifted her friend’s hair. “They chatter like they’re big tough warriors, willing to die at any moment, but they took good care of Talley.”

Strike projected those big tough warriors had females also.

His female chattered about garments and hair braiding and the cleanliness of her friend’s fingernails. They progressed at her pace, passing immobile Powluks. His little human’s footsteps echoed off the rock walls. She wasn’t designed for stealth.

But she was fabricated for him. Warmth spread across his chest.

They stopped at the bottom of the vertical climb to the surface.

His female stood beside him. “You can leave one of them down here and convey them individually.” She looked upward.

His ability to carry them wasn’t his concern. He tugged, using twenty percent of his strength, on the railing.

The ladder remained attached to the rock wall.

It should hold. “Move farther into the tunnel.” If he fell, he didn’t want to land on his female. Her safety was his priority.

She did as he instructed. “I could carry your weapons.”

His female could barely carry her own weapons. His lips quirked upward. “Don’t start climbing until I’ve reached ground level.”

“You might not have said anything, but I know you.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you’re worried the ladder won’t bear the weight of three beings. I certainly won’t put extra stress on it.”

She was a clever female. And she did process him.

That had been his concern.

Strike balanced the two beings on his shoulders, and he climbed. He moved as smoothly as he could, seeking to minimize the horizontal strain on the ladder’s fasteners.

Metal whined. As he progressed higher and higher, dust fell from the rock wall.

A fastener bent. More tension stretched across his already taut muscles.

He reached the top and opened the door.

That shift of weight increased the stress on the ladder.

A fastener broke on its south side. Then another broke. And another.

Fraggin’ hole. Strike hastily grabbed the edge of the opening and pulled himself and his living load out of the space.

Fresh air swept over him. The heat from the planet’s single sun warmed his form.

There was no time to relish the outside ambiance.

Strike set down the beings he was carrying. “Wait, my female.” He rushed back to the opening.

His reckless female was already starting her climb. She was unaware the ladder was now only partially fastened to the wall.

He reached inside and gripped the top rung. “I’ve got it.”

“Fates.” Her eyes widened as she gazed upward. “It’s no longer attached, is it?”

“Progress carefully yet quickly.” Strike would safeguard her.

She climbed.

More and more fasteners snapped into two pieces.

Sweat beaded on his female’s forehead. Yet his brave little human didn’t stop. She determinedly ascended. Her knuckles whitened around the railing.

The last fastener snapped. It fell to the stone floor and clinked as it hit that hard surface.

The ladder swung free of the rock wall.

His female squeaked and held onto it with both hands.

“I won’t allow you to fall, my female.” Strike clasped the ladder more securely, stabilizing it.

“Fates.” She climbed faster.

He slid forward slightly.

Fraggin’ hole. He could be pulled back into the tunnel.

Letting go was not an option. His female was on that ladder.

Strike kicked first one booted toe and then the other into the ground as hard as he could manage. His slide forward stopped.

His female reached the top. “Need. To. Hold onto. You.” She gripped his hands, then his arms and finally linked her fingers at his nape.

Strike released the ladder. It clattered to the rock floor.

And he rolled onto his back, pulling his female out of the tunnel as he moved.

“Fates. You saved me.” Once she was safe, she kissed him with a circuit-straining enthusiasm.

He kissed his little human back as fervently. Her lifespan had been in danger. He could have lost her this planet rotation. He poured his fear, his relief, his caring into her mouth.

Their tongues twined. Her grip on his nape tightened. Strike threaded his bloodstained fingers through her brown curls, savoring her softness and their shared success.

They were alive. They were together.

And they had freed the friend and the friend’s male.

He sucked on his female’s tongue. She tasted of peace and passion and the future. He reveled in that combination.

Desire flared, raging higher and higher.

His female splayed her fingers across his body armor-covered chest, physically claiming him with her touch. She wiggled her luscious ass.

A growl escaped his lips. If they were in a safe location, he’d strip off their garments and breed with her right there on the ground.

But danger could be drawing near.

He couldn’t place his female’s lifespan at risk.

Strike reluctantly pulled back from her. “We have to go.”

His female blinked once, twice.

Then she nodded. “We have to go.”

She jumped to her booted feet and looked around them.

Strike stood also. He wiped some of the dirt off his weapons.

“There they are.” His female stomped over to where he’d left her friend and the friend’s male. “You dropped them on the ground and they still didn’t wake up.” She gazed at them closely. “Whatever the Powluks gave them must’ve been super strong.” Her forehead furrowed. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“According to my life-form scans, their vitals are strong.” He slung first the male, then the friend over his shoulders.

They walked in the direction of their ship.

“The Powluks in the tunnels will be stuck there,” his female chattered. “That ladder is a goner.”

“They’ll call for help.” Strike wasn’t concerned about them. They would find a way out of the space.

“The males did have handhelds.” His female nodded.

Strike abruptly stopped. His scans detected movement ahead of them. “There’s a small humanoid male moving in our direction.” He drew his guns.

“Stop.” His female hurried around his form. “Don’t shoot.” She held up her hands as though trying to block his shot. “He’s a kid. I’ll talk with him.”

Strike frowned at her. “The kid might be a threat.”

“I know him.” She placed her hands on his guns. “He’s not a threat.”

“How do you know him?” He narrowed his eyes at his female.

“We met while you were clearing the tunnel.” Her cheeks turned pink. “I know I was supposed to stun everyone I saw, but he’s a kid, and I couldn’t do that.”

His soft-hearted female was skilled at shooting, but she was no warrior.

He sighed. “Talk with him.”

“Yes.” She treated him to a grin that almost downed his systems.

His female was so fraggin’ beautiful.

Then she turned. “You won the game.” She framed her lips with her hands and yelled that bizarre statement.

“I won?” A little Powluk male jumped out from behind a large piece of debris. “I really won?”

“You won.” Strike’s female beamed at the offspring. “My male found everyone else, but he couldn’t find you.”

Her male didn’t process he was looking for the little Powluk.

Strike gazed at the two of them.

“I won.” The offspring lifted his hands in victory. “I won. I am the bestest.”

“You are the absolute bestest.” Strike’s female danced with the tiny tusked male. “The bestest of the bestest.”

The two of them celebrated with 0.0000 inhibitions. The sun’s rays caressed his female’s gorgeous face. Her curls bounced against her shoulders.

Strike’s trepidation over the delay dissipated. His lips curled into a small smile.

War had ravaged the planet. And war might return to it.

But in the moment, there was peace and happiness and caring.

Strike carried his two-being cargo closer to a broken-apart piece of ship engine. He detached one of the metal caps and smoothed it to remove all the sharp edges. Then he salvaged three long pieces of brightly colored wires from the wreckage. He braided them together and attached that to the cap.

His female and the offspring continued to dance when he returned to them.

“The absolute bestest should wear a neck decoration.” Strike held up the manufactured award. “It’ll show everyone he won the game.”

“I’m the bestest.” The offspring stared up at him. “I am, yeah?” He glanced at Strike’s female.

“You are the bestest.” She nodded. Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

His female’s emotional system was damaged. Strike frowned at her.

“I am the bestest.” The offspring pulled on his right leg. “I should wear a neck decorangement.”

“Decoration,” Strike’s female corrected him.

“Decorangetion.” The offspring mangled the word again.

“Then I award it to you.” Balancing the friend and the friend’s male on his shoulders, Strike bent slightly and slipped the neck decoration over the offspring’s head. “In recognition of being the bestest of the bestest.”

“Ohhh…” The offspring clasped the metal disk and gazed at it with widened eyes. “It’s shiny.”

“It’s very shiny.” Strike’s female’s voice sounded watery.

The offspring looked up at him again. “You don’t gotta carry me like them.” He pointed to the beings slung over Strike’s shoulders. “’Cause I won. I’m the bestest.”

“You’re the bestest.” Strike had no intel about the game the offspring projected he had been playing, but his female had declared the offspring the winner and he would honor that feat.

“You should show your daddy your neck decoration.” Strike’s female rustled the offspring’s soil-crusted hair. “He’ll be so proud.”

“I’m the bestest.” The offspring gleefully ran away from them. “Daddy, Daddy, I’m the bestest.” He headed in a southeasterly direction.

The two of them watched the offspring’s progress for a moment.

“You did a good thing—creating that award for him.” Strike’s female then turned her brilliant smile toward him.

Strike was temporarily struck speechless. Her beauty had purged his databases of all words.

“I guess we should go.” She touched one of his arms.

That physical connection reset him.

“We should go.” He walked, carrying her friend and her friend’s male, while relishing the feel of his female’s hand on his form.

“Your wounds are healing.” She lowered her voice to a husky whisper.

His cock, always hard around his female, bobbed in response to her tones. “Cyborgs repair quickly.” The pain from that earlier damage was now manageable.

“I know we should talk about what you told the Powluk.” She sighed. “It has to be discussed. But I don’t think I can handle that conversation right now. A lot has happened this planet rotation. Fates. There’s a lot that still has to happen. We’re not yet back to the ship. Talley and Tsadok remain drugged out of their minds. I don’t know what we’ll tell them.” She paused. “Or what they’ll tell us when they wake up. It’s…too much.”

His little human was exhausted. Strike wished he could carry her also.

But she wouldn’t agree to that.

She would insist on walking, processing to spare him that slight effort.

“Conversations can occur later.” He, instead, granted her that reprieve.

They had a future lasting an eternity. All they truly had to do now was return to the modified freighter and then fly to safety.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him again.

His processors malfunctioned. He stumbled and then caught himself before he and his living cargo hit the ground.

“Be careful.” Her voice was edged with concern. “The ground is a bit uneven.”

The ground was 100.0000 percent stable. His female’s glowing countenance, in contrast, was a weapon more powerful than the one he had been ordered to investigate.

“Tell me about the game you and the Powluk offspring were playing.” He wanted to bask in the joy of that moment again.

Her bond with the tiny male had warmed his chest.

He could project his female playing that same way with their own offspring.

Cyborgs and human genetic matches had a 100.0000 percent probability of creating the cyborg offspring of the same model. And they had a 99.1278 percent probability of creating males.

Their son would look like him. But he might laugh like his mom.

And he would have a peaceful lifespan.

Strike would ensure their offspring never had to participate in a lifespan-threatening battle.

He would protect his female and their family.

She chattered happily about the Powluk offspring. Her recounting of the kid’s statements regarding his stealth skills drew a chuckle from Strike’s lips. Her inventiveness regarding the game earned his admiration.

It was her caring that gave him the most pleasure to experience. She had just met the offspring that planet rotation, yet he projected she would’ve fought to safeguard the little male.

His female had a loving heart. Further proof of that was draped over his shoulders. She’d risked her lifespan to save her friend and that friend’s male.

He would shield her empathetic soul from damage. Strike made that silent vow. He would guard her and the beings she cared for.

To do that, he had to ensure she lived in peaceful surroundings.

That meant leaving her for a short duration to hunt down the source of the pulsing sound. And, if that source was a weapon, destroying it and killing everyone who had the knowledge or resources to replicate it.

He didn’t like that prospect.

But it was necessary.

Sometimes the best way to forge peace was to engage in war.

CHAPTER TWELVE

After Strike had crafted that award for the Powluk boy, Kesser could no longer deny the truth.

She was in love with the cyborg.

That terrified her because she was almost certain he planned to leave her to track down the sector-destroying weapon.

His mission would be extremely dangerous. It could take a long time. Their relationship was still fairly new.

He might never return to her.

She didn’t know what to do with that possibility.

Except make the most of the time they had left together.

They approached their ship.

“Tell me how to disarm the perimeter alarms.” She pushed away her exhaustion. “And I’ll retrieve them.

“I’ve disarmed them remotely.” He continued to carry Talley and Tsadok.

They remained unconscious but she wasn’t concerned. Much. She saw the rise and fall of their forms as they breathed in and out.

“Then I’m retrieving them.” She hurried around the ship, gathering the small devices in her pockets.

Strike had placed them at regular intervals, and she had been with him while he did that. The perimeter alarms were easy to locate.

She returned to Strike. “I think I got them all.”

“You did get them all.” His lips curled upward.

The ramp had already been extended, and the doors to the ship were open.

“I’m thinking we should place them both in the chamber we’ve prepared for Talley.” Kesser entered their ship first. “That way, when they wake, they won’t be alone.” She didn’t want her friend to be scared. “And we’ll leave the doors to the chamber open so they know they’re no longer prisoners.”

“You’re a kind being, my female.” He walked behind her, carrying Talley and Tsadok into the vessel. The exterior doors closed.

“I’m not always kind.” She admitted to that failing. “But I try to be.”

They headed to the private chambers they’d assigned Talley. Kesser moved close to the wall to allow Strike to pass her.

He placed Talley on one side of the sleeping support and Tsadok on the other side.

The sleeping support must’ve been designed for cyborgs. It was huge. Their two unconscious guests had plenty of space.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Kesser gazed at the rescued pair. She’d asked that question multiple times, but she needed the reassurance his answer would grant her.

“According to my scans, your friend and her male are operating within spec.” Strike retrieved a handheld from a horizontal support and pressed it into her palms. “Run a second scan to verify that reading.”

She did as he suggested, first pointing the device at her friend. “Talley is operating within spec.” She used her male’s words. “Tsadok is…” She stared at the small screen. It flashed red. The numbers displayed shocked her. “I think he’s extremely ill, my Strike.”

Alarm gripped Kesser. She had no medical training and very little knowledge of Powluk anatomy. If the male died, it would be war. Talley would be devastated.

And she would be responsible. She would have killed him.

“What should we do?” She gazed at her cyborg, hoping to receive guidance from him.

“What are your results?” Strike looked over her shoulder at the readings. “According to the databases, he’s operating within spec for a Powluk, my female.”

“The screen is flashing red.” That didn’t appear to be within any sort of spec.

Her cyborg touched the handheld. The flashing stopped. “Powluk ranges weren’t loaded.”

“Oh.” Tension eased from her form. Her shoulders lowered. “He’s okay?”

“He’s okay.” Strike glanced at the open doorway. “For now.”

They might not be okay if their ship remained on the surface of the planet for much longer. That was his inference.

“Then I’ve got this.” She gestured toward Talley and Tsadok. “If you want to lift off, I’ll join you on the bridge when I’m done.”

“You’re strong and brave, my female.” Her cyborg gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

She blinked and he was gone.

Mere heartbeats later, the ship’s engines hummed.

Her lips twisted. Strike wanted them off the planet as soon as possible.

Kesser holstered her handheld. “Talley, my friend, you’ve been on quite an adventure.” She untwisted her friend’s unusual loose-fitting garment. That should make her more comfortable. “But you’re safe now.”

She grabbed the cleaning cloths she’d set on a nearby horizontal support, and she tidied, as best as she could, Talley’s hair and skin and outfit.

There wasn’t much dirt on her friend. She was surprisingly clean. And, other than the drugs in her system, she appeared to be unharmed.

The Powluk abductors had been careful with her. And that earned them Kesser’s gratitude.

Tsadok had bands of bruising around his wrists. It looked as though he had been tied and had struggled to free himself from those restraints.

He remained unconscious also. But apart from that, he looked healthy.

The Powluk was cleaned less thoroughly. It felt…strange to be touching an unknown male while he was sleeping.

His big boots were removed. She left his garments where they were. All of the holsters and sheaths on his form were empty. She couldn’t imagine a warrior not carrying any weapons. The guns and blades must’ve been confiscated by his abductors.

She drew covering cloths over their bodies. Talley always liked to sleep with something over her.

Kesser looked around the chamber.

Images of her and Talley were displayed on the viewscreens. Those had been sourced from her handheld. Her friend should know only Kesser would have them.

There were containers of beverage and a stack of nourishment bars on a horizontal support. They might be thirsty and hungry when they woke.

Kesser ran another set of scans on Talley and Tsadok. The results were all within acceptable ranges. She couldn’t think of anything else she could do for them. Not at the moment.

She gazed back at her friend.

Talley had a dreamy smile on her face. She looked relaxed. And happy.

Kesser hoped her friend was having wonderful dreams.

“You’re safe.” She repeated that assurance. No one would harm them. “I’ll be on the bridge.” She kissed Talley’s cheek.

Then she crept quietly out of the chambers.

The space would remain illuminated. The doors were open.

It would be scary to wake up in a strange place, not knowing how they got there or what had happened to them.

Kesser hoped the lights and the lack of barriers to them exiting the chambers would ease their fears.

They’d know they were no longer captives. And they were amongst friends.

She rejoined Strike on the bridge. Upon seeing him, she paused for a moment on the threshold.

Her cyborg sat in the captain’s chair. There were streaks of bare patches amidst his thick black hair. That was where he had been wounded.

His head was held high. His spine was straight. His shoulders were broad.

She sighed her admiration. He looked impressive even from the rear.

“We’re orbiting the planet.” His deep voice coiled around her, and she shivered with delight. “As there’s a 76.1455 percent probability your friend’s male will want to return to it, it’s illogical to move farther.”

An image of Powlus Zetus was displayed on the main viewscreen.

“Then we’ll wait here until Tsadok comes to.” Kesser drifted closer to the captain’s chair.

She could claim the seat beside it.

But she didn’t want to do that. She craved physical contact with her cyborg.

As though hearing her thoughts, Strike reached out, grasped her by her waist, and lifted her onto his lap. “We won’t break orbit.”

“Yes.” She wiggled backward until her back hit his chest and the bulge in his body armor pressed against her flight suit-clad spine.

“Yes.” He splayed the fingers of his left hand over her fabric-covered stomach.

She leaned against him, relishing the connection between them, trying not to think about the fact that he might not always be behind her, supporting her in all ways.

“We rescued them.” She stated that wondrous truth. Her friend and her friend’s male were safe.

“We’ve successfully completed our mission.” Strike lowered his head and slid his cheek over hers.

She quivered. All over. “There were no problems leaving the planet?” She could barely think with him touching her.

“Our departure was uneventful.” He blew out his breath. “We’re orbiting their planet, are within striking range of its surface, and no one has contacted us. Security on Powlus Zetus is…suboptimal.”

She suspected, compared to the cyborg-controlled planets, any other place would have suboptimal security. “That’s good for us.”

Her cyborg grunted.

A companionable silence fell over them.

She watched the main viewscreen.

They flew round and round the planet. Sometimes they passed other ships. Those vessels didn’t contact them. Or slow.

Nothing dire happened. There was no danger, no sense of alarm to invigorate her.

And Strike’s form was seductively warm. His heat layered over her like a covering cloth.

Kesser’s body relaxed. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Talk to me, my male.” She struggled to keep her eyes open. “I’m falling asleep.”

“Rest, my female.” He propped his chin on the top of her head. His voice was a deep soothing rumble. “I’ll protect you.”

“That’s.” She yawned. “That’s not…” Her eyes closed and darkness engulfed her. “That’s not what we should talk⁠—"

She drifted into slumber before she could finish that thought.

* * *

When she woke, the images on the main viewscreen were the same. They continued to orbit Powlus Zetus.

She didn’t know how long she had slept. Her cyborg had a cable inserted in one of his wrist sockets. It might’ve been a while if he had needed that energy boost.

“What did I miss?” She stretched out her arms and legs.

“There have been no abnormalities.” Strike kissed the back of her head.

“I guess I should check on Talley and Tsadok.” She was reluctant to leave her male’s comfortable lap, and she should have felt guilty about that.

But she didn’t. Because she was in a warm relaxed state and she knew their guests were okay.

Strike would have woken her if they weren’t.

“Your friend and your friend’s male haven’t regained consciousness.” He gave her another reason to delay checking on Talley and Tsadok.

She might rouse them if she entered their chambers.

And they should rest as much as possible after their ordeal. They’d been through a lot.

“Their vitals remain strong.” He confirmed they were well.

“Then I guess I should stay here and help you monitor our surroundings.” She used the words he often wielded. “We should prepare for any possible threats.” She squirmed on his lap. Now that she was rested, her need for him was returning with increased vigor. “We shouldn’t become…distracted.”

“Cyborgs are very good at multitasking.” Strike reached downward and cupped her flight-suit-covered mons with both of his huge hands.

She squeaked. The pressure was divine.

“I can monitor our surroundings, prepare for possible threats, fly the modified freighter, and distract you over the same duration.” He rubbed along her, heating her to the point of combustion.

“You are. Skilled.” She panted. His sexy massaging of her intimate parts felt so good. “Talley and. Tsadok. Might. Wake. During. This.”

Which would cause him to stop. And that would make her cry.

She craved his touch that much.

“If your friend or your friend’s male wake, I’ll detect their movements.” Strike mouthed over her neck, leaving a trail of bubbling over her skin.

Fates. She wanted him.

Kesser turned on his lap until she straddled her cyborg. The pause in pussy stroking during that change in position allowed her to catch her breath and regain the use of some of her brain cells.

“Will you detect that in time for us to get dressed before they arrive?” She nuzzled under her cyborg’s chin. “I don’t want Talley’s male to see my bare ass.”

“Your ass deserves to be seen.” Strike squeezed that part of her. “And I’ll close the doors if they approach the bridge. That will slow their progress significantly.”

It should stop their progress. Unless they tried to break those doors down.

“Ummm…” She flicked her tongue over his skin.

His body armor-contained cock bobbed against her. His reaction to her playful seduction thrilled Kesser. She felt powerful. And desired.

“You have many sexy solutions.” She licked him some more. “I like that.”

“I have a solution to our garment problem also.” Her cyborg ripped the protective gear off his huge form.

His hands blurred. The pieces flew across bridge.

He shifted her from side to side as he stripped bare.

“Yes. I like that solution too.” She glided her hands over his chest.

His ab muscles rippled.

“If you like that, you’ll love this.” He unfastened her flight suit more carefully.

She rolled her shoulders. The garment fell to her waist. She lifted her ass. He pulled the flight suit to her calves. She kicked off her boots and raised her legs. He removed that barrier between them completely.

They were both now naked. She shimmied forward.

Her wet pussy lips touched the base of his cock.

Her moan of delight was echoed by his.

“I do love this.” She loved him. Kesser gazed up at her male. She didn’t have the courage to tell him that. Not yet.

A hint of her feelings must have been apparent. A flare of energy burst in Strike’s eyes.

He captured her lips with his. She opened to him. He invaded her mouth.

As he kissed her senseless, she sought to render him as incoherent with passion. She ravished his shaft with her pussy lips, moving up and down him, slicking as much of his length as she could reach.

Which admittedly wasn’t much. But it was enough to excite her. And to stimulate him.

They moved together, licking and grinding and sucking. Her nipples grazed his chest. Her intimate juices scented the air. His metallic taste coated her tongue.

Desire wrapped around her. She wanted more, more contact, more of him.

“Do you. Have a. Solution. For my. Empty Pussy. Problem?” She looked to her cyborg for assistance with that issue.

“Frag.” He lifted her onto the console. “You drive me wild, my female.”

Strike rose to his feet. Her male was so tall and broad and dominant.

He loomed over her.

A tremor of appreciation rolled down her form.

And he didn’t realize she had merely started to drive him wild.

Kesser grinned up at him. “It sounds like you have a problem also, my male.”

She cupped her breasts, holding them up for his perusal. And she spread her thighs, shamelessly showing him her needy entrance.

A rumble rolled up her cyborg’s chest.

“We’ll need a big solution to solve both of our problems.” She gazed pointedly at his huge cock.

A bead of pre-cum had formed on his tip.

That, she knew from past experience, would taste delicious. She skimmed her tongue over her bottom lip.

A growl escaped his lips. “I have a solution for our problems, my female.” He bumped against her once, twice as he aligned himself.

Her male was a tease. She hooked her legs around him and linked her ankles over his ass cheeks. “Give it to me, my male.”

He didn’t move. His eyes glinted.

“I’ll implement the solution myself.” She tried to pull him closer to her.

Her leg muscles strained.

Her cyborg remained where he was. “Patience is required, my female.”

Fates. He was determined to torment her.

She would torment him right back. “I’m wet for you.” She changed tactics. “And I’m hot. I’m also snug. So very snug. I’d hug your cock. You’d feel me all around you.”

“Fraggin’ hole.” An energy storm blazed in her cyborg’s eyes.

Every strike of luminescence signaled a crack in his willpower.

Kesser would shatter his control completely. And she would bathe in the light of his desire. “Claim me, my Strike. Show my body who it belongs to. Make me scream your name.”

“You’re mine, my female.” He drew his hips back. “Mine.”

His voice was a low growl. His words were thrillingly possessive.

The logical-machine part of her cyborg had retreated. All that remained was his primitive, passionate soul.

“Show me.” She taunted that uncivilized side.

Strike snarled and thrust deep.

One moment, she was achingly empty. The next moment, she was full to the point of pain.

“Yours.” She cried out. Her body, her heart, her everything was his.

Strike pulled back and drove into her, pulled back and drove into her. His pace was punishing and she reveled in it.

She lifted into each advance. Their bodies smacked together. Her pussy lips throbbed. She hummed with a craving only Strike could sate.

They had faced danger less than a shift ago, and they had survived it. That knowledge accentuated their passion. They meshed into one and then fell apart.

Sweat streamed between Kesser’s breasts. Her arms and legs trembled.

The connection, always present between the two of them, strengthened. It flowed over her, binding her to her cyborg. The thought of that link breaking, of losing him, made her as wild as he was.

She sank her fingernails into his shoulders, holding onto him with everything she had, and she propelled her hips upward, meeting his thrusts. Heat radiated outward from her core.

Her shaking expanded, engulfing her entire form. Her pussy walls narrowed around her cyborg’s shaft. Their mutual teasing had primed her for release.

“Close.” Fates. She was already so close.

Judging by the tightness of his form, he was battling the turbulence of release also. She would push them both into that raging tempest.

As he crashed down on her, she flung herself upward and nipped at his chin.

“Mine.” He roared his possession of her. And he pinned her to the console with his chest, his hips, his huge cock. She was flattened between her hard male and an unrelenting surface.

That was the more she needed.

“Mine.” She screamed as her world exploded with light and sound and pure emotion.

Pleasure ravaged her. Her thoughts were obliterated.

She scored his chest with her fingernails, and she clenched down on his cock.

“Yours.” His eyes blazed with energy and then went dark. Cum shot from his tip and blasted her innermost flesh. That bombardment of nanocybotics, the effervescence, the bubbling, the barrage of tiny touches spiraled her bliss higher.

She came again. Harder. Her pussy contracted around him a second time.

Her cyborg howled louder. He pushed deeper. More of his essence ambushed her.

Kesser reached ecstasy so many times she lost count. Waves and waves of elation swept over her. Her cheeks were awash in tears of rapture.

She twisted and turned under Strike. The euphoria was too good, too right. She couldn’t…she couldn’t.

Her male finally stilled. And the vortex of fulfillment and light spinning around her slowed.

She glided on the winds of exultation for a few more moments before gradually and gently touching down on reality. “Fates.” Her arms and legs went limp. She sprawled over the console.

Her cyborg covered her form with his. His gray skin shone with the sweat from her body. The marks she’d left on his shoulders were already healing.

Soon, they’d be gone. It would be as though she’d never claimed him in that way.

A sadness fell upon Kesser. “Promise me you won’t forget me.”

Strike braced himself upward. His gaze met hers.

Energy illuminated his eyes once more.

“You’re a part of me, my female.” He frowned. “Your face, your voice, your scent—” His nostrils flared. “—are permanently programmed into my databases and in my organic memory. I would never forget you.”

She waited.

He kissed her forehead. His touch was gentle. The action was edged with caring.

It should’ve soothed her worries.

It didn’t. Because she was acutely aware of what her cyborg hadn’t relayed.

He hadn’t said he couldn’t forget her because he’d always be by her side. There had been no reassurances he wasn’t planning on leaving her.

Oh fuck. She lowered her gaze to his chin.

Her heart was in danger of being completely and irreversibly broken.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Strike bred with his female two more system-decimating times. The pleasure he experienced strained his circuits and warmed his entire form.

She slept for a few moments. He held her in his arms and reveled in the wonder of her. She was his. He was hers. His good fortune processed no bounds.

When she woke, they ate nourishment bars, and his female drank some beverage.

He assured her the friend and the friend’s male hadn’t moved in the private chambers they’d been placed in.

They bred quickly for an additional time.

After that round of ecstasy, he tidied his female’s beautiful face and curvy form with a cleaning cloth. He snapped the fabric square in the air numerous times to refresh it. And he applied the cleaning cloth to his own face and form.

His cautious human then donned her garments. He dressed in his body armor.

And she returned to his lap, snuggling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, securing her to him, and he monitored their surroundings.

There was no activity.

They’d been orbiting Powlus Zetus for three shifts, and no one had contacted them.

His lips twisted. The Powluks were careless with their security.

His female’s planet was better at protecting their beings. But they had space for improvement also. When he left his female to continue his investigation of the pulsing sound, he couldn’t be 100.0000 percent assured of her safety.

That…unsettled him.

He couldn’t ask his female to accompany him. His mission was dangerous. And she held an important role, assisting her mom, the leader of her planet.

Her mom depended on his clever female. His chin lifted. She was essential to her kind.

As she was essential to him. He kissed the top of her head. Her beautifully wild and unruly curls were soft against his lips. Her form was as yielding against his body armor.

Frag. He couldn’t project how he would last one planet rotation without her. His heart ached at that prospect.

“Will you tell Tsadok’s dad about the sector-destroying weapon?” She gazed up at him.

“I’ll tell him about the pulsing sound.” The leader of Powlus Zetus might have intel about it. “And about our projections regarding the source.”

He had told the Powluk in the tunnel that information. That male’s leader deserved to be as informed.

“We can’t tell him…or my mom about the abduction.” His female nibbled on her bottom lip. “It might be best to imply they were working with us on the investigation.”

“I can’t lie.” That was beyond his capabilities as a cyborg. “But I’ll frame my information relay to lead his processing in that direction.”

“Tsadok can do the rest.” His female stopped damaging herself. “Powluks, as far as I can determine, can lie.” Red specks glittered in her brown eyes. “Which is good, because Talley is a very good liar.”

That didn’t reassure Strike. His female believed she was a competent liar and he could detect her falsehoods solely by tracking her voice inflections.

There was an 87.1256 percent probability her mom processed she was lying also. But, for some private reason, she hadn’t questioned his female’s bending of the truth.

Strike detected movement in the private chambers. His time spent alone with his female would soon end. He pushed away that disappointment. “Your friend and the male are awake.”

“Oh.” His female straightened.

“They’ve moved to the horizontal support holding the beverage containers and the nourishment bars.” He had been proud of his female for processing those needs of their guests.

“Talley eats a lot after a planet rotation of partying.” His female relaxed against him once more. “And she doesn’t like to be interrupted while she’s eating. She has ended communications because I was chattering too much during what she felt was a great nourishment bar.” She looked up at him. “The nourishment bars you have here on the ship are very good.”

He reached for a nourishment bar he’d placed on the console, unwrapped it, broke off a piece, and held it to her lips.

His female devoured it. “Fates.” She talked as she chewed. “These are so good.”

He would leave some of them with her.

Strike ate a piece of the nourishment bar and fed his female another one.

The two of them munched happily.

“Your friend and her male are approaching the bridge.” He reluctantly interrupted the shared moment.

“Oh.” His female popped the last piece of nourishment bar into her mouth, chewed vigorously, and swallowed. She then swept her hands over her flight suit and threaded her fingers through her hair. “How do I look?”

He gazed at her, not attempting to hide his admiration. “You’re the most beautiful being in the universe.” He was fortunate she was his.

She beamed at him. “You’re a good male.”

His female awarded him with a quick kiss on his chin for delivering that truth.

He blinked.

She jumped off his lap.

He projected she would have run to greet her friend if he hadn’t blocked her with his arm. “You’ll stay behind me.” Strike stood. “The two of them are chattering.” He stood protectively in front of his fragile human. “And the male isn’t convinced they’ve been rescued.”

“That male can’t harm me.” His female patted his body armor-clad back. “He doesn’t have any weapons.”

“A warrior doesn’t require a weapon to kill.” Strike braced his booted feet apart. “I killed one-hundred-and-two beings with just my bare hands during training. And some of those beings were humans.”

They had been branded traitors by the Humanoid Alliance.

“Fates.” His female hugged him from behind. “I’m sorry you had to do that. I⁠—”

“Only Kess would have those images.” The female’s voice reached human auditory levels. “Do you think they abducted her too?”

“It’s possible.” The male responded. “She’s your leader’s daughter.”

The Powluk stepped onto the bridge. He clasped two beverage containers in his hands. The male held them like clubs.

Strike approved of those makeshift weapons. “My female⁠—”

“Talley.” She ducked under his arms and ran toward peril.

He grabbed his female by her flight suit and held her back.

“Let me go.” She struggled to be freed.

“Kess.” His female’s friend slipped under one of her male’s arms and propelled herself toward them.

Her male dropped one of the beverage containers and caught her by her garment also.

“That’s her.” The friend fought as vigorously. “That’s my friend. You big…hunk.”

Strike met the male’s gaze. “This is a rescue mission, Powluk.” He scrubbed all emotion from his voice. “If we had wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The male narrowed his eyes. “Then why are you restraining my mate’s friend?”

“You haven’t lowered the beverage container.” Strike tilted his head toward the weapon. “That makes you a threat to my female. I would die before allowing her to dash into danger.”

“Awww…” His female’s friend stopped moving. “You’re the big gray hunk’s female, Kess.”

“I am his female.” His female became still also. “That’s Strike. I thought he was your male’s guard but he turned out to be a cyborg on a secret mission yet he helped me rescue you anyway. And…we really like each other.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him.

He frowned back at her. The feelings he had for her female were much stronger than like.

“I really like Tsadok also.” The friend looked toward her male.

“I couldn’t free us.” The male lowered the beverage container. His shoulders slumped.

“An escape attempt would’ve placed your fragile human female’s lifespan at risk,” Strike told him gruffly. “You processed your lifespans weren’t in danger. They wouldn’t have abducted you if they planned to kill you.”

“That was my thinking also.” The male’s chin lifted.

“And that thinking was right.” The friend smacked the Powluk’s chest. “They treated us really well.” She glanced at Strike. “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

Fraggin’ hole. The friend shared his female’s kind heart.

“We only stunned them.” His female answered for both of them. “They should be fine.”

They would hurt but they would repair. Strike kept that intel to himself.

“Good.” The friend blew out her breath. “Because they weren’t the instigators of the abduction plan.” She looked at Strike’s female. “That dubious honor belongs to my dad.”

“No.” His female’s cry held anguish.

“Yes.” The friend’s response contained more heartbreak.

Strike released his hold on his female at the same time the Powluk released his hold on her friend.

The two females ran to each other and fiercely hugged.

Strike met the Powluk’s gaze and nodded.

The male’s head dipped in shared acknowledgment.

The females needed that physical contact to emotionally repair.

“He had me abducted, Kess.” The friend sobbed. Her damage was severe. “He told them not to harm me, but those were just words, and anything could’ve happened. They could have tortured me, killed me. He knew that and he took that risk.”

“He wanted war.” Strike’s female’s cheeks were wet also. “Oh, Talley.”

They hugged again. Harder.

“He wanted his budget increased.” Bitterness edged the friend’s voice. “That’s what he wanted. If this was about killing the enemy, he wouldn’t have worked with them. No. It was all about the credits. And he was willing to risk his daughter’s life to increase his budget.”

Humans and their love of credits. Strike shook his head. He would never process their obsession with numbers in a database.

The females embraced and chattered.

The Powluk, Tsadok, moved closer to Strike. “I owe you gratitude for bringing my mate’s friend here, and for…” He waved his hands around them.

And for rescuing them. Strike didn’t require the words to be spoken. “We’re orbiting your planet.”

The male grunted. “I have to return to the surface. I sent my guard home early, as I believed I’d be spending time with my mate on her planet. The male was to tell my father the negotiations had gone longer than expected. I have to tell him…” He swept one of his hands over the narrow strip of hair on his otherwise bald scalp. “I have to tell him something that won’t lead to war.”

“You’ll tell him something that will lead to war but not war with the Syndiculs.” Strike relayed the plan he and his female had formed.

During that information transfer, the females drew near them and listened.

Strike linked his fingers with his female’s. Her other arm was wrapped around her friend.

Tsadok held the friend’s hand.

“I’ll tell my father that to further unify our two planets, I’ll choose one of the Syndiculs as my mate.” The male gazed at the friend. “He won’t be surprised by that proposal. I’ve mentioned you to him. But this will give him a public reason to approve of our bond.”

“I’d like that.” The friend sighed. “Especially as we won’t be gaining my dad’s approval. I don’t want to ever speak to him again.” She looked at Strike’s female. “I know I have to go back to Syndiculous 5, but I can’t go back to that house, Kess. I can’t trust him. Fates.” She tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know him. He told strangers to abduct me.”

“You can stay with me.” Strike’s female jutted her jaw. “My mom will be okay with that. She considers you part of the family already.”

There was no mention of Strike in that arrangement. And that damaged his emotional system. “My female.”

“You can stay with me also.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “If you want to do that, my male.”

He wanted to do that. More than anything. “I have to⁠—”

“I know what you have to do.” She looked away from him. “We have the return journey.” The cheer in her voice had a sharp edge to it. “We’ll focus on that.”

“We’ll have more than that.” He got the impression she was saying good-bye to him permanently, and that alarmed him.

She hugged her friend. “Stay with me, Talley.”

The friend glanced at him. “Only a fool wouldn’t want to stay with you.” She returned her attention to his female. “We’ll have fun, you and I.”

“I’ll travel to Syndiculous 5 as soon as I’ve settled the situation with my father.” Tsadok made that vow.

The friend beamed at him.

“I’ll travel to Syndiculous 5 as soon as I’ve completed my investigation into the pulsing sound,” Strike told his female.

She didn’t look at him.

Fraggin’ hole. “I’ll return to you, my female.”

“You can’t guarantee you’ll return to me. Not with 100 percent certainty.” Her lush lips flattened.

She was correct. He couldn’t guarantee he’d return to her.

The universe was a dangerous place.

“I want to focus on now.” She kept her gaze on her friend. “We’re all together. Everyone is safe. It’s a happy planet rotation.”

“Then we’ll focus on now.” He kissed her temple.

“Yes. Let’s focus on now.” The friend cheered. “Tsadok, talk about battles with Kess’s male.” She pulled Strike’s female in the direction of the private chambers. “I have to chatter about female stuff with my friend.”

The Powluk grunted.

Strike watched as his female was taken away from him.

Everything inside him screamed he was losing her.

And that couldn’t happen. She was his future, his everything.

Silence stretched.

Strike had no enthusiasm for chatter of war. Or for anything other than his female.

She was his entire world. He had to repair his bond with her.

Tsadok studied him.

The Powluk sighed. “I’m a terrible Second Zetus.”

He surprised Strike with that confession. Beings rarely admitted to being suboptimal at their current roles.

“A Second Zetus should put his kind and his planet first. I won’t ever do that. My mate comes first with me. I would forgo my role, my responsibilities, my home to be with her.”

“I don’t have that option.” Strike couldn’t forgo his assigned mission. It was too important.

“We all have that option.” The Powluk processed nothing.

“If the source of the pulsing sound is a weapon, everyone in the sector is in danger.” Strike explained that truth to the male. Again. “That everyone includes my female. I will not place her in peril. She also comes first with me.”

“The weapon will have to be destroyed.” Tsadok agreed with him on that point.

Strike huffed.

“Rumors say there are millions of your kind in existence.” The male gazed at him.

“Those rumors are based on reality.” Strike was in contact with millions of his brethren as they chattered. Their transmissions flowed through his processors.

“And you’re the only being who can destroy the weapon?” The Powluk lifted his eyebrows.

Strike said nothing. He wasn’t the only being who could destroy it.

Frag. He couldn’t even project its present location.

“Powluks have a saying. There are many ways to kill the enemy.” Tsadok shrugged.

Strike had to find the enemy before he could kill them.

“Think about it.” The Powluk gave him that unnecessary order.

Strike couldn’t stop his processing.

“And while you’re doing that, know that I’ll help you in any way I can.” The male made him that generous offer. “My guard is a skilled warrior. He’s yours to command, if you wish. And I’ll protect your mate as best as I can while you’re gone. Whether that duration is thirty planet rotations or thirty solar cycles.”

The probability he’d be gone for thirty solar cycles was low.

But it wasn’t zero. And that realization almost brought Strike to his knees.

The prospect of another warrior assuming the role of safeguarding his female also made him want to howl. She was his to protect.

“Your mate will wait for you.” Tsadok reassured him. “I wouldn’t be concerned about that. My mate and I chattered about a lot of things during our imprisonment. We had nothing else to do and plenty of time to do that nothing. And she says your mate is one of the most-loyal beings in the universe.”

“She raced to your planet to rescue your mate.” Strike forced a smile. “And to rescue you.” Though he projected his female hadn’t been as concerned about the Powluk. “Her loyalty and her bravery processes no limits.”

But he didn’t want to test either one of those.

His trepidation about their upcoming parting increased exponentially.

The urge to remain with his female battled with his commitment to the mission, to his captain, to his brethren. And his drive to keep everyone he cared for, including his fragile little human, safe.

And you’re the only being who can destroy the weapon? Tsadok’s question replayed in his processors.

Strike had never delegated a task he had been directly assigned. That wasn’t the cyborg way. While under Humanoid Alliance control, his kind completed missions or they were killed.

He and his brethren were free now, however. Delegating tasks was an option for his kind.

He also now had a female to safeguard.

She modified everything. Including his priorities.

That was part of caring for another being. He had to recalibrate his processing.

Or he would risk losing her. A sense of urgency gripped him.

“Did your mate tell you about the time our mates rode a bovine to their academy?” Tsadok presented that query.

Strike shook his head.

“It was my mate’s idea.” The male said that with pride. “She had to talk your mate into participating. My mate then couldn’t figure out how to steer the creature. The bovine ran with them into a nourishment-bar-processing facility and started eating the treats.” Tsadok laughed.

Strike’s lips twisted. His female’s friend embraced more chaos than his brethren Grid.

“Your mate took over the steering of the bovine.” The Powluk’s eyes glinted. “When the two of them arrived at the academy, everyone assumed she’d been the instigator. Nothing my mate could say would convince them she wasn’t.” He shook his head. “Your mate was given a reprimand and my mate voluntarily shared it.”

Strike processed his female. She would’ve voluntarily shared her friend’s reprimand also.

Tsadok chattered about their females’ pasts, sharing more stories about Strike’s female he hadn’t yet heard.

If he didn’t return from his next mission, he might never hear his female tell those tales.

Strike’s unease about completing his assignment escalated.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kesser was pulled by Talley into the chamber allocated to her friend. The doors shut behind them.

That merely gave them the illusion of privacy. Her lips flattened. She was well aware her cyborg, with his enhanced senses, could hear everything they would soon say.

A part of her didn’t care.

Because he clearly didn’t care about her. Her heart ached.

“So spill.” Talley whirled around and faced her. “What’s going on with you and the big gray hunk? The two of you are either eye fucking the fuck out of each other or you’re on the verge of jettisoning the other being out of the ship. There’s nothing in between those extremes.”

“I like him.” Kesser wasn’t proud of the wail in her voice. “I really, really like Strike.” She loved him with her whole being. “But he plans to leave me, Talley, maybe permanently, to go find that sector-destroying weapon.”

“Then go with him.” Her friend rolled her eyes. “The prospect of a little danger has never stopped you from accompanying me on our not-at-all-thought-out escapades. And fuck.” She waved her arms. “You came here to save me and Tsadok, didn’t you? That was super dangerous.”

“He didn’t ask me to go with him.” That realization had dealt a severe blow to her confidence. Kesser lowered her gaze. She now doubted her appeal, her abilities, her value. “Circumstances forced him to mention his mission while he was with me.” She had been by his side when they’d confronted the Powluk in the tunnel. “Or I think…I think he would have left without saying anything.”

Talley sucked air through her teeth. “Why are males such dumbasses?” She shook her head.

Kesser said nothing. She suspected Strike wasn’t the dumbass in their relationship.

“Okay. Okay.” Her friend shook her arms and shoulders as though she was limbering up for an extreme activity.

Dealing with heartbreak was a high-intensity enterprise. Kesser felt that truth.

“You know about the mission now.” Talley poked the air with her right index finger. “And you won’t allow him to leave without you.”

“Won’t I?” A smidgeon of Kesser’s self-assurance returned.

“You won’t.” Her friend sounded certain about that. “When have we ever waited to be asked to do something? Never.” She answered her own question. “You tell him you’re going with him, and if he doesn’t like it, tough bovine shit for him.”

Kesser lifted her head. “Yes, tough bovine shit for him.”

“You’re going with him on this mission,” Talley told her.

“I’m going with him on this mission.” Kesser repeated the statement. It felt…right.

“You won’t let him leave without you.” Her friend’s gaze locked with hers.

“I won’t let him leave without me.” She would fight for their relationship, and if she lost that battle, she would, at the very least, know she tried her hardest. “I’ll train more, and my cyborg won’t have to protect me as much as he did on this rescue mission. He’ll sustain fewer injuries.”

“Wait. What?” Talley’s eyes widened. “He sustained injuries?”

“He healed.” Kesser pushed away that guilt. “And I won’t be as much of a hindrance in the future.”

“You’re never a hindrance.” Her friend hugged her.

She had been a bit of a hindrance. Kesser hugged her back. “You’ll take care of my mom while I’m gone?”

“Your mom is the leader of our planet. She can take care of herself.” Talley’s tone was dry. “But yes, I’ll ensure she doesn’t work herself into a medic bay.”

Kesser would communicate with her mom every planet rotation. She’d also take an extended break from her role at the academy.

And she’d remember to bring her own weapons this time.

Fates. There were a lot of preparations to make. Excitement flowed through her.

If her cyborg let her join him.

“Strike might still leave without me.” The ship was his. He could simply fly away before she re-boarded the vessel.

That would devastate her.

“Then I’ll take care of you too.” Talley pulled back from her and grinned. “I’ll make nourishment bars for everyone.” She winked.

“You mean stone bars.” Kesser laughed. Her friend’s attempt, as a child, at making nourishment bars was a well-known disaster. “We won’t have to eat again for a solar cycle.”

“What I am is efficient.” Talley bowed and, while doing that, she nearly tripped on her long garment. She giggled. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“What you were was missing a few ingredients.” Kesser grinned. “Remember when we tried to make fermented beverage from that container of half-rotten foetor fruit?”

They chattered about their pasts, about Tsadok. Kesser’s friend was very much in love with her big green hunk. And they chattered about their futures.

Kesser felt more and more…logical, as her cyborg would say.

She had a plan. And she always felt better having a plan.

“You good?” Talley lifted her eyebrows.

“I’m good.” Kesser smiled. “Thank you. I needed that kick in the ass.”

“That’s me—ass kicker extraordinaire.” Her friend opened the doors and turned her around to face the hallway. “Now, go. Tell him you’re joining him on his mission.” She pushed Kesser out of the chambers. “Tsadok.” Her yell nearly broke Kesser’s eardrums. “I need you.”

A roar came from the direction of the bridge. “I’m coming, mate.

The Powluk passed Kesser in the hallway.

He was in a rush to reach her friend. His eyes glowed.

She suspected garments would soon be shed.

Her conversation with her cyborg would be much more serious. And far less sexy.

Kesser stepped onto the bridge.

Strike was standing by his chair. “You’re my female.” His expression was solemn. “I would have never left you without informing you first. My lack of communication damaged you, and that—” His voice broke.

She resisted the urge to run to him. If they touched, they’d end up fucking, and they really needed to have a conversation. “I’m accompanying you on your mission.”

“I should complete the mission on my own.” His jaw jutted. “You should stay on your home planet. Where you’ll be safer.”

That rejection hurt her.

At first.

Then she reviewed his words. “Those are a lot of shoulds.” Hope flickered inside Kesser. “What do you want to do?”

“Your mom needs you.” He didn’t answer her question. “And you need her. It damages you to spend time apart from her.”

She would endure that short-term damage to be with him.

“What do you want to do, my Strike?” Kesser asked her cyborg again.

“There might be killing on the mission.” He pointed that out. “Seeing that death would emotionally damage you also.”

That would be traumatic to witness. She quashed her grimace. But they would endure that horrific experience together.

She would be there for him. He would be there for her.

“What do you want to do?” She’d repeat that question as many times as necessary to get an answer from him.

“My assignment is to track the pulsing sound to its origins and gather intel on it.” He continued to evade the question. “But if it’s a weapon, as I project it is, my next mission will be to destroy it. I could lose my lifespan during that feat. You could lose your lifespan.”

He looked away from her. His jaw clenched and unclenched.

She could also lose her lifespan while she waited for him on Syndiculous 5. That was a possibility. She could take a routine flight between two settlements. Her ship could crash. And she could die.

That had happened to her dad.

She would take her chances with Strike on his mission. “What do you want to do?”

He said nothing.

She walked up to him, reached out, and captured his handsome face between her hands.

He flinched.

She forced him to meet her gaze. “What do you want to do, my stubborn male?”

“The weapon has to be destroyed.” His voice was the faintest whisper. “It could end the lifespans of you, your mom, and every being on your planet.”

Every consideration he presented had been centered around her—her safety, her preferences, her happiness.

Any lingering doubts she had about his feelings for her evaporated.

Her cyborg cared for her, likely more than he’d ever admit.

And she cared for him. “What do you want to do?” She could wait for his answer forever. Her chin tilted upward. She was as determined as he was.

They were well matched in that and many other ways.

Her male exhaled heavily.

She knew then she’d be successful with her own private investigation.

“I don’t want to leave you, my female. Ever.” The torment in her male’s eyes pierced her heart.

But his words soothed that pain.

Strike didn’t want to leave her. Kesser rejoiced in that knowledge. The male she loved wanted to stay with her forever.

“Then don’t leave me.” She drifted her fingertips down his cheeks.

“The pulsing sound has to be investigated.” He chased her touch with his face as though he sought to maintain that contact with her. “And if it is a weapon, that weapon will have to be destroyed.”

She cupped his countenance once more with her palms. “Then we investigate the pulsing sound. And we’ll destroy the weapon.”

“It’s dangerous.” Her cyborg didn’t touch her. His arms hung by his sides.

“I know it’s dangerous.” She accepted that risk. “We’ll train. And…I’ll kill beings, if that’s necessary.” She would do anything to protect the beings she loved.

And she did love Strike. With everything she had.

He frowned. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“You wouldn’t have to ask.” She smiled at him. “We’re a team, my male. You protect my rear and I protect yours.”

He gazed at her.

She gazed at him.

Neither of them moved.

Moments passed.

“I’ll always protect your rear.” Her cyborg finally wrapped his arms around her. His fingers spanned the small of her back.

Some of the tension inside Kesser eased. “I’ll always protect your rear also.”

She reveled in his embrace. The heat from his form coiled around her body. His strength surrounded her.

“You’ll accompany me on the mission?” His eyes glowed.

“I’ll accompany you on the mission.” She verified that fact. “Where you go, I go.”

“You’ll miss your mom.” He returned to that concern.

It touched Kesser that he recognized how important her mom was to her. “We’ll communicate with her every planet rotation. It’ll be like she’s undertaking the mission with us.” She thought about that a little more. “Though we might not want to mention how dangerous it is.”

She didn’t want her mom to worry.

Her cyborg grinned. “You’re the best of females.” He pressed his lips against her forehead.

“I am the best of females.” She laughed. “Remember that the next time you get the urge to fly off and leave me behind.”

“I’ll never have that urge.” Strike tightened his hold on her. “The prospect of parting with you threatened to permanently damage my systems.”

She wiggled against the bulge in his body armor. “Your systems appear to be functioning now.”

“I want to breed with you, my female.” Strike lifted her high against his chest. Her booted feet dangled in the air.

“I want to breed with you also, my male. But.” She sighed. “Our chatter has reminded me we haven’t yet communicated with my mom this planet rotation.” The planet rotations seemed to be meshing into one. “And we should really do that. She’ll be worried. Plus, we have to tell her about…everything.”

Her cyborg grunted his agreement.

“I would like you to be on the communication.” Her cheeks heated. “If that’s possible.”

Her mom should virtually meet the male she’d be traveling around the sector with.

“That’s possible.” Strike claimed the captain’s chair and set her on his lap.

“Ummm…” She squirmed.

Introducing her male to her mom while sitting on top of him wasn’t the best strategy. Her only living parent was tolerant. But that wouldn’t make a great impression on her.

“The footage will display us from the shoulders up.” Her cyborg addressed her unspoken concerns. “Is a background image required?”

“That isn’t needed.” Her stomach fluttered with nerves. “We’re telling her where we are.” Her mom would be disappointed in her. “I’ve told my mom so many lies, my male.”

“Look at me, my female.” Strike shifted her until she sat across his thighs. “If you hadn’t fabricated the truth, your mom would have relayed the intel about the rescue mission to your friend’s dad.”

“She would have done that.” Kesser stared at him. Her mom would’ve felt compelled to inform Talley’s dad that his daughter had been abducted. “And he would’ve used that information to break the peace agreement between us and the Powluks. Which is exactly what he wanted to happen.”

She paused as the implications sank in.

“He knew I, the daughter of our planet’s leader, would be with Talley. I would know about the abduction and would immediately tell my mom.” Everyone on the planet realized how close she was to her mom. “He not only used his daughter, but he used me.”

That angered her.

“You didn’t allow him to use you.” Her cyborg’s tone contained pride. “You’re clever and brave, and loyal and kind, my female.”

He grabbed a cleaning cloth from the console, snapped the fabric to refresh it, and brushed the square gently over her cheeks.

“I’m also lucky.” She tilted her face upward, savoring his tender care. “Because I didn’t realize Talley’s dad was attempting to use me.”

“Luck is an input in every mission.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

She blinked. “It’s an input in every relationship too. Because I’m lucky to have you as my male.” Kesser beamed at him. “Thank you for making me feel better about lying to my mom.”

That had been bothering her.

She turned to face the main viewscreen. “I’m ready, my male.”

There was a chance her mom wouldn’t be available to chatter. She was very busy, running the entire planet. Her schedule was full, and⁠—

An image of her mom’s face appeared on the main viewscreen. “I was just thinking about you, Kesser, and…” Her eyes widened. “Who is that young male with you?” Lines appeared on her mom’s forehead. “And where are you? It looks like you’re on a ship.”

Fates, her mom was observant.

“The young male with me is Strike.” She smiled over her shoulder at him. “He’s a cyborg warrior and a very nice being.”

He rumbled.

“And we are on a ship.” Kesser returned her gaze to the main viewscreen and the footage of her mom. “We’re currently orbiting Powlus Zetus.”

Her mom’s lips parted.

“And we’re perfectly safe.” She rushed to reassure her. “We’re⁠—”

“Oh yes.” Talley’s screams filled the bridge. “Use those tusks on me, you hunky male, you.”

Kesser’s cheeks heated. “Talley is also on the ship.”

“I heard her.” Her mom’s tone was dry.

Strike’s chest shook against Kesser’s back. The cursed male was laughing at the situation.

“Tsadok, the Powluk’s Second Zetus, is with her.” Kesser leaned closer to the main viewscreen, and she lowered her voice. “They’ve formed a partnership.”

“That’s a development.” Her mom leaned forward also. “Does her dad know about it?”

Kesser thought about that question for a moment. “He knows about it.” He had Talley and Tsadok abducted together. Her friend’s dad must’ve known about their relationship. “Can Talley stay with us for a while? Tsadok has to speak to his parents, and that’s best done alone. He⁠—”

“Boink me against the wall, warrior.” Talley was loud with her fucking instructions.

“I’m filtering out the background noise from the communications, my female.” Strike tapped his fingertips against the control panel embedded in the console.

“Thank you.” Kesser’s mom shook her head. “I don’t need to hear all that.”

Talley howled.

“You’re very fortunate not to hear it.” Kesser rubbed her hands over her face.

Her cyborg laughed silently.

“Back to your question.” Her mom returned to that subject. “Of course, Talley can stay with us.” She frowned. “I assume her dad doesn’t approve of your friend partnering with the Second Zetus?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Kesser then told her mom the entire story, minus all the boinking.

She emphasized how key Strike had been to the rescue mission, how she likely would have died if he hadn’t been by her side.

That won him her mom’s enthusiastic approval.

“I want to accompany Strike on the mission to find the source of the sound.” Kesser linked her fingers with his. “We could be gone for a while.”

Her mom looked away from them for a couple moments.

Fates. Kesser inhaled deeply, counted to ten, and exhaled.

The time apart from her mom would be hard. On both of them.

But she had to do it. She wanted to be with her male.

“You’ll communicate when you can?” Her mom sniffled.

“We’ll try to communicate every planet rotation.” Kesser’s eyes burned with unshed tears.

Her cyborg hugged her to his big form.

“And you’ll keep her safe, young male?” Her mom addressed Strike.

“I’d protect your daughter with my lifespan, Global Minister.” He made that vow.

“To you, I’m Kesser’s mom.” Her mom’s smile was forced. “And when you get back from this mission, know that you’ll have a role on Syndiculous 5. We’ll need a being to help smooth our relations with Powlus Zetus, a warrior who can speak their language.” She sighed. “Especially as it seems we have to locate a new Minister of Defense.”

Kesser suggested some candidates for that role. They chattered.

Her mom then had to end the communications. She was attending a formal function that shift. But they arranged to talk for a longer time when she returned from the event.

She wasn’t losing her mom. Kesser reassured herself as she turned on her cyborg’s lap. Their relationship was merely shifting to adjust for the physical distance between them.

And it was adjusting for Strike. She snuggled against his body armor-clad chest. It would be the three of them going forward. Their family had grown.

She smiled. That was a reason for celebration.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Strike’s female was fearless.

And she was his.

He was humbled by her willingness to undertake the mission with him. She was risking her lifespan to remain by his side. And his clever little human processed that.

During the mission, she would also be physically separated from her much-loved mom. He stroked his female’s curls back from her beautiful face. That distance between them would emotionally damage her.

He would prefer to die rather than damage any part of her.

But not locating the source of the pulsing sound, a sound he was now 85.1475 percent certain was caused by a weapon, could kill her and every other being he cared about.

That threat, if it existed, had to be neutralized. The weapon had to be destroyed.

And you’re the only being who can destroy that weapon? Tsadok’s words repeated in his processors.

Most of his brethren would kill for an opportunity to take on that mission. Those warriors hadn’t found their genetic matches. They wouldn’t have a fragile human female they’d be placing in danger.

He—

Ships were detected on the monitoring systems. Numerous ships.

The alarms rang. Lights flashed red on the console.

“What is it?” His female turned on his lap to face the main viewscreen.

“Ships are approaching ours.” He displayed that information for her. “There are nine warships.”

The ships were flying in a three-vessel-by-three-vessel configuration.

That was…unusual.

“Could they merely be passing by us?” His female placed her hands on his forearms.

“Their trajectory is directly toward us. We should have now appeared on their monitoring systems.” The range of the monitoring systems on the modified freighter had been expanded. “And they’re not changing their course.”

“Oh.” His female’s body stiffened against his.

“We now have visuals.” Strike enlarged the image on the main viewscreen. “The three lead ships are Orion 5428 warships.”

There was a 98.2153 percent probability they all were that type. They were flying in perfect unison. That was easier to accomplish with identical vessels.

“I think that’s the type of warships the Powluks use.” His female frowned.

“I’m raising our shields.” He put that defense in place. “We have to assume they’re hostile.”

“Fates.” His female looked behind them. “Talley. Tsadok. Get in here.” She shouted at their guests.

“We have a communication system.” Strike’s lips quirked upward. “Here.” He tapped the control panel to activate it.

His female leaned over the console. “Talley. Tsadok. Get in here.” She didn’t lower her voice.

“The warships are slowing.” All his mirth vanished with that processing. The probability the beings in the vessels weren’t targeting them was now 0.0000 percent. “They’re within striking range of our ship.”

The modified freighter’s shields wouldn’t hold for a long duration under an all-out assault.

“What is it?” Tsadok ran onto the bridge. The Powluk male was completely naked.

“We—” Strike’s female glanced at her friend’s male. “Yikes.” Her face flushed with pink pigment, and she immediately looked back at the main viewscreen.

“Nine warships are positioned within range of us.” Strike gestured to the main viewscreen.

“Those are ours.” Tsadok moved beside them. “Hail them.”

“I’m hailing them.” Strike opened those communications.

An image of a Powluk male appeared on the main viewscreen.

“Captain Ausk, this is Second Zetus.” Tsadok lifted his chin. “You are to stand down.”

The image shifted to that of a gray-haired Powluk male. “Second Zetus, this is First Zetus. Prepare to be boarded.”

The communication ended.

Strike’s female’s friend entered the bridge. Her hair was mussed. Her flowing garment was disheveled. “What’s happening?”

“My father is boarding our ship.” Tsadok’s tone was grim.

“Fates.” The male’s female grimaced. “That can’t be good.”

“It’s a disaster.” The Powluk raked his fingers through the strip of hair on top of his head.

“Is my female in danger?” Strike’s sole concern was her safety.

If the father and his entourage posed a threat to his fragile little human, he’d fly them away from the warships as quickly as their modified freighter’s engines allowed.

“She isn’t in danger.” Tsadok deleted those fears. “This is about me.” The male looked at the friend. “And it could also be about my mate.”

The two of them clasped hands.

“We’ll explain everything to your father, and it’ll all work out okay.” Strike’s female’s gaze remained fixed on the main viewscreen. “But we should prepare for that confrontation. Ensure our stories match. And…don garments. That would be wise also.”

The friend glanced at her naked male and laughed. “Come on, you hunky male, you.” She pulled the Powluk in the direction of their private chambers. “We have to get some garments on you before Kess shouts at us again.”

Strike and his female were alone once more.

Silence stretched.

Neither of them relaxed.

“I know when you’re worried about something, my male.” His female looked back at him. Their gazes met. “Tell me what it is.”

He would tell her everything. “The first three vessels are Orion 5428 warships.” He enlarged the image. “This wing.” He circled the part barely visible behind the middle warship. “Isn’t from an Orion 5428 warship.”

His female’s forehead furrowed with processing lines. “What type of ship is it from?”

“It’s from a Humanoid Alliance Class A warship.” There was a 97.1256 percent probability Tsadok’s father occupied the ship in the middle of the fleet.

Which meant there was a high probability the male and all of the Powluks were aligned with Strike’s manufacturers, the Humanoid Alliance, his kind’s most hated enemy.

“Fates.” Strike’s female grasped his hands. “What should we do?”

“We watch, listen, and keep the information about the pulsing sound to ourselves until we process the situation.” He would allow the First Zetus to board the modified freighter, but he would position his body armor-covered form between the Powluks and his female at all times.

“We’ll tell Tsadok and Talley not to mention it.” His female nodded. “I’ll protect you, my male.” She squeezed his fingers. “I won’t allow them to hurt you. Again.”

Strike stared at her.

His fragile little human was vowing to safeguard him, a tough, fabricated-for-war, some-would-relay-disposable, cyborg warrior, from damage.

Frag. His chest heated. “You’re the best female in the universe.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I’m fortunate you’re mine.”

Strike wouldn’t abuse that good fortune. He would protect her.

His fingertips skimmed over the handles of the guns strapped to his hips.

He would kill the First Zetus, Tsadok’s father, if the being threatened his female.

* * *

Moments later, the four of them stood on their vessel’s side of the docking-connector doors. Strike held his female’s hand. Tsadok held the friend’s hand. They had a plan for the upcoming meeting.

None of them were at ease.

Strike swept his free hand once more over the guns and blades strapped to his body armor. He’d slipped a gun into his female’s front right flight-suit pocket and a blade into her left boot.

The friend fiddled with her garment and her hair.

Tsadok’s face was two shades darker green than his spec.

The first beings through the doors must’ve been the father’s guards. They swung their guns from left to right as they surveyed the space.

Strike folded his fingers over the handle of one of his guns, and he shifted slightly to the left, partially concealing his female from their view.

And from danger.

“Put the guns away.” The father stepped onto the vessel. “We’re not at war with my son.”

“Father.” Tsadok strode forward and clasped the male’s arm.

“Son.” The father smacked his son’s shoulder. Hard. “Are you a danger to all of Powlus Zetus? Because our new allies—” His face twisted around that word. “—contacted us and said we should shoot down any unidentified ships in our space. I didn’t do that. Why would I?” He snarled. “I don’t take orders from them. Though they seem to think I do.”

“Was that new ally…the Minister of Defense for Syndiculous 5?” the friend asked.

“That’s the one.” The father glanced at her.

“Fates.” Strike’s female’s friend turned pale. “He tried to kill us. My dad tried to kill us.”

“Oh, Talley.” Strike’s female rushed to hug her.

Strike moved until he blocked both of them from view.

“Syndiculs.” Tsadok’s father shook his head and shifted his attention to him. “You’re far from your sector, cyborg.”

“What do you process about my sector, humanoid?” Strike challenged him.

“I don’t process enough about it, considering it borders mine.” The male’s eyes glinted. “But we’ve all heard the stories about your kind, how you fought for your freedom against those Humanoid Alliance non-warriors, and then claimed an entire sector for your own. You’re warriors like us.”

“You fly a Humanoid Alliance-designed warship.” Strike narrowed his eyes at the father. Humanoids could flatter and lie. Their actions told the truth.

“Yeah. Like it?” The male looked over his shoulder. “I got it from a contact on Cancri B. Didn’t ask where he got it from.” He grinned. “I figured if it was good enough for your kind, it was good enough for me. And my warriors like it. They now mutter about us having the cyborgs’ luck with the Fates.”

The male admired cyborgs. Strike’s processors spun as he grasped that truth.

“Why does the Minister of Defense for Syndiculous 5 want me to blow up a freighter carrying his daughter and my son?” The male returned his gaze to his son. “Why is his daughter wearing the traditional garment of the females from Tsicariuk Plains? And what happened to the negotiations you were undertaking?”

Tsadok abandoned the story they’d fabricated.

That was a tactic Strike approved of. His father processed too much of the truthful situation.

The friend’s male, instead, relayed the events semi-accurately. In his rendering, however, he and his female had already freed themselves from their abductors when Strike and Strike’s female arrived to rescue them.

That modification earned the male and his female respect from his father.

And it didn’t damage Strike or his own female in any way.

He didn’t correct the male.

Tsadok then turned control of the intel exchange over to Strike.

Strike relayed the little information he processed about the pulsing sound. He emphasized that there was a high probability it was being emitted from a weapon. And he suggested the Powluks work with the Syndiculs to strength their security.

The father didn’t embrace that idea. “The Syndiculs tried to trick me into killing my son.” His nostrils flared and his face darkened. “They lie. They place their daughters in danger. They have no honor. And you want us to work with them?”

“That was one being.” Strike’s female defended her kind. “We’re not all like that.”

“My female flew to another planet. She ventured into danger to save her friend.” Strike supported her. “She has honor.”

“She also has no formal place in Syndiculous 5 leadership.” The father’s truth couldn’t be denied. Strike’s female’s advisory role to her mom wasn’t publicly recognized. “And that one being? He was their highest-ranking warrior.”

The Powluks belonged to a warrior culture. There was an 87.1288 percent probability they viewed the Minister of Defense to be of more importance than the Global Minister.

“Your highest-ranking warrior betrayed everyone around him.” The father addressed Strike’s female. “I can’t trust Syndiculs to keep their vows.” He rubbed his tusks. “I can’t trust them to honor the peace agreement.”

“No.” Strike’s female cried out. “No.” She stepped forward. “You have to uphold the peace agreement. Beings will die if you don’t uphold it.”

“Agreements are based on trust.” The father slashed his hands through the air. “Syndiculs have proven they deserve no trust. There’s nothing tying them to their vows.”

Frag. Strike’s nourishment processing system twisted.

The male was talking about war…with his female’s home planet.

That would place her and her much-beloved mom in danger.

“My dad is being dealt with.” The friend tried to repair the damage. “I doubt he’ll be the Minister of Defense for very much longer.”

“And how will I know his replacement has honor?” The father huffed. “How will I know a Syndicul won’t seek to kill my son again? How can I send any Powluk to Syndiculous 5? Or allow any Syndicul to land on our planet? There’s no way to make certain my warriors and my son are safe around Syndiculs.”

Strike’s female spluttered, but she didn’t say anything.

Because her assurances would be worth nothing. The father no longer trusted her kind.

Moments passed.

No one spoke.

Strike’s female looked at him. The devastation on her face sliced Strike to his frame. “Beings will die,” she whispered.

And that prospect, for his soft-hearted female, was soul-damaging.

Strike processed only one way to stop it. “I will ensure your warriors and your son are safe around the Syndiculs.” He stepped forward.

His female gasped. “My male, what are you doing?”

He was protecting her. His jaw jutted. That was what he was doing.

“And how will you ensure my warriors and my son are safe around Syndiculs?” The father lifted his eyebrows. “You’ll be halfway across the sector tracking down the weapon.”

Strike projected he and his female would have been situated, at least temporarily, on Cancri B. They would be seeking to chatter with the male who had obtained the Humanoid Alliance warship.

Cancri B was positioned much closer to them than halfway across the sector.

“My brethren will track down the weapon.” He would delegate that task to them.

His mission would be completed. That had to happen to ensure the safety of everyone he cared about.

But the assignment wouldn’t be accomplished by him and his female.

Other beings would have that responsibility.

“My female and I will remain within monitoring range of Syndiculous 5.” He wouldn’t commit to them always being on the surface of that planet. “We’ll ensure the peace agreement is upheld.”

The father frowned. “How can I be certain you’ll do that?”

The male was questioning his honor.

Strike stiffened. “Because I said we would do that, and cyborgs don’t lie.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that about cyborgs.” The father nodded. “You have honor.” He glanced at Strike’s female. “And you might have some too. As a cyborg has chosen you for his mate.”

Strike’s female’s lips twisted. That was her only acknowledgement of the male’s mutilated compliment.

The father then looked at the friend. “Despite your father being a complete disgrace as a warrior, you sound like you might have some slivers of honor.”

“She’s my mate.” Tsadok put his arm around the female. “Her honor matches mine. The Fates decided that.”

“The Fates are a powerful force.” The father’s head dipped. “Your mother insisted on accompanying me. She’s on the warship.” He moved in that direction. “Bring your Syndicul. Your mother wants to meet her.”

The friend walked with Tsadok behind the father. She glanced back at Strike’s female.

Strike’s female raised her arms in a silent victory pose.

The friend grinned.

The three beings entered docking connector.

The guards followed them closely.

Strike and his female were now alone. He pulled her to him. Her soft, flight suit-covered curves pressed against his body armor, and the tension inside him immediately eased.

They stood as one for a moment, not speaking, not moving. Her warmth engulfed him. He breathed deeply. Her tantalizing scent teased his nostrils.

“Are you certain about this, my male?” His female gazed up at him. Her eyes glowed. “You’re truly okay with staying on my home planet? And giving our mission to someone else?”

“I’m 100.0000 percent certain about this.” The decision was the right one…for him, for them, and for the universe. Another warrior could give the mission the focus it required.

His focus was on his female. Always.

“Syndiculous 5 isn’t an…exciting place.” She said that as though it was a bad thing.

If beings defined exciting as death-filled and violent, Strike had experienced sufficient excitement to last an endless lifespan.

“I was told there was bovine riding on Syndiculous 5.” He teased her. “That could be a source of excitement.”

His female’s cheeks flushed with pink pigment. “You heard about that, huh?”

“I heard about it.” He hoped to hear many more stories about his female in the future.

“If you want to try bovine riding, I can arrange for that to happen.” She grinned. “Though the agri-lot tender wasn’t too happy about having his bovine borrowed the last time.”

“How did he reprimand you?” Strike rubbed her fabric-covered back.

“Talley and I had to move bovine shit every sunrise for twenty planet rotations.” His female wrinkled her nose. “No one would come near us at the academy. We smelled so bad.”

He chuckled. “I’ll come near you. If that reprimand is repeated.”

“If that reprimand is repeated, you’ll be sharing it.” She shook her head. “We’ll both smell horrendous.”

Strike had been covered in worse substances in the past. “I’ll source more cleaning cloths.”

“Do that.” She laughed.

He held her close to him, savoring her joy. It fed his own.

Her mirth faded.

His female gazed up at him. “Thank you, my male.”

She grasped his shoulders and rocked forward onto the toes of her boots.

Strike lowered his head.

His female captured his lips with hers.

And Strike projected their future would be filled with excitement, the passion-induced rendition of it. That filled him with happiness.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Her cyborg had been fundamental in the rescue of Talley and Tsadok. He had also salvaged the peace agreement between two planets, potentially saving millions, perhaps billions of lives.

And he never failed to put her safety and happiness first.

Kesser sucked on Strike’s tongue, trying to communicate with her kiss how fervently she adored him. Fates. She loved him. That was no longer deniable. He was the best of beings.

And he was hers.

She clutched his shoulders and pressed her form against his. Her breasts flattened against his body armor-clad chest. Her flight suit-covered mons pushed against the bulge in that protective garment.

Her male was tall and broad and his fit physique sported massive muscles. That combination never failed to thrill her.

She wiggled against him, and an arousingly deep rumble rose from his chest.

Those vibrations skittered all over her, radiating from her core to her boot-clad toes.

She wanted him. More than anything.

“We don’t know how long Talley will be gone.” She kicked off her boots and unfastened her flight suit. It fell to her waist. She squirmed. The garment dropped to the floor. “I’ll be quick.”

“We’ll be quick, my female.” Strike ripped the body armor off his form. The pieces flew everywhere.

“No.” She drifted her hands down his chest. His ab muscles rippled. “I’ll be quick.” She lowered to her knees before him. Her flight suit cushioned her landing. “I plan to be of service to Syndiculous 5 and Powlus Zetus’s new peacekeeper.”

She explored the vee at his hips with her fingertips.

His cock bobbed. “This part of the role wasn’t mentioned.” His eyes glowed with energy.

“It’s a perk not many beings know about.” She splayed her fingers over his upper thighs.

They were too big for her hands to encircle. And they had no yield. It was as though he was created from stone. She liked that. Very much.

“But every being in a powerful role requires…” She gazed at his cock and licked her lips. “A support being.”

Pre-cum beaded on his tip. “You’re my equal, not my support being.”

They had different strengths. But she was his equal.

And she relished that he recognized that truth. “I’m your support being right now. You can be my support being later.”

“I’ll support you very well.” He said that with the force of a vow.

She trembled with anticipation. “I know you will.”

No one ate pussy as thoroughly and as enthusiastically as her cyborg. That part of her became wet from the mere memories of their past encounters.

She leaned forward and sucked on the skin near the base of his cock.

Her male’s fingers folded into giant fists. “You tease me, my female.”

“Yes.” She licked lower. “I tease you.” She flicked her tongue over his balls, and he jerked. “I expect you to endure that teasing.” She laved him. “You won’t come until you’re in my mouth.”

She inhaled one of his balls and rolled it with her tongue.

“I’m inside your mouth.” He gazed down at her.

She released him with a pop. “Your cock will be in my mouth when you come.” She nipped his hip with her lip-covered teeth.

His knuckles whitened. “I can wait until then for release.”

“That’s good.” She nuzzled against his cock. “Because if you come before my lips are wrapped around your shaft, there will be consequences.”

Energy flashed in his eyes.

Her cyborg liked the prospect of possible consequences.

He was a kinky being.

Kesser’s lips twitched. “I’m not moving from here until we successfully meet that challenge.” She patted the floor beside her. “I’ll suck your cock again and again until we get it right.” Her tone was stern. “And I’ll stay on my knees before you all planet rotation if that’s necessary.”

He treated her to an adorably naughty grin. “I prefer your reprimands to those dispersed by the agri-lot tender.”

She laughed. “My reprimands are less smelly.”

He chuckled. His big form relaxed.

His current state wasn’t conducive to mind-destroying releases and world-toppling bliss.

She would rectify that situation. Kesser sucked his other ball into her mouth.

Her male’s mirth immediately dissipated.

She played with that part of him, adoring him with her tongue. Her fingers curved over his hips. Her nipples brushed against his knees. The heat from his form coiled around her. It reinforced the link between them. And it created an oasis of warmth in the cool chamber.

She ravished her cyborg, alternating her attention between his balls. As she ratcheted his sexual tension upward, she watched the storm building in his eyes.

Bolts of blue lightning lit those darker depths, striking repetitively but never in the same way or the same place.

His turbulence fed her desire.

“My female.” Strike’s jaw clenched.

Then something cracked. She suspected it was his knuckles.

Her male’s control was strained.

And, despite her teasing, she didn’t want him to fail in his assigned task. She suspected this first cock sucking would decimate her. A second one would be too much for her to handle.

Kesser pulled back and looked up at him. “You can do this, my male.” She pinched his hips. That tinge of pain might distract him from his escalating passion. “Focus on me.”

“I’m always focused on you, my female.” Her big male shook. “You’re all I see. You’re so beautiful, so clever, so brave, so kind.”

“Am I kind?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Would a kind being do this?”

She swept her tongue over his tip.

Her cyborg inhaled sharply. The muscles in his abs and legs abruptly flexed.

“Ummm…” She hummed as she savored the flavor of him. He tasted of metal and hot male and forever. His nanocybotics danced on her flesh, fizzing, bubbling. It was a celebration of their bond.

“Fraggin’ hole.” Strike vibrated violently against her. “You’re torturing me.”

“Again, that’s not an act of a kind being.” She grinned up at him. “A kind being also wouldn’t tell you she was dripping wet for you.” She rubbed her thighs together. They were slick with her pussy juices. “A kind being wouldn’t share that the thought of having your big cock in her mouth makes her want to come. Hard.”

“Have mercy on me, my female.” He groaned. That deep sound curled her toes.

She paused for three heartbeats.

Because she couldn’t capitulate that easily. And also, because she wasn’t a kind being.

“I’ll have mercy on me.” She blew lightly on his cockhead. “I want this as much as you do, my male.”

“That’s impossible.” Strain edged her cyborg’s voice. “I want this more than my next breath.”

“Nothing is impossible between us.” And she would give him what he craved.

Kesser pushed her lips over his tip.

Explosions of energy detonated in Strike’s eyes. His shaking intensified.

She took him deeper and deeper, cradling his shaft with her tongue.

His breathing turned ragged.

His tip tapped the back of her throat. She couldn’t take all of him. Her male was too large.

She wrapped her fingers around his remaining length.

“Harder.” He growled. “Grip me harder, my female.”

Kesser complied with that order.

Understanding unfurled within her. Her cyborg needed that pressure to maintain his control.

He needed her. And she loved him.

She drew back until her lips touched his rim. Then she surged forward once more. She drew back and surged forward, drew back and surged forward.

Strike’s countenance grew more and more stark, but he didn’t move. He didn’t touch her.

Her cyborg stood tall and still before her. He was a stationary pillar of gray skin and defined muscle over an unbending metal frame.

That impressed her. And it also pushed her to break his restraint, to topple him into wildness. She increased her pace.

His chest rose and fell faster. And his hands twitched.

He was close to breaking.

She sucked on his cock. Hard.

“Yes.” He threaded his fingers through her curls. “Yes.” He twisted her hair.

The pricks of pain over her scalp titillated her. She worked him with increased vigor.

“Yes.” Her cyborg rocked into her.

Her grip on his base prevented him from delving too deep and blasting out her throat. Her lips stretched around his girth as he advanced and retreated.

They labored together, acting as a sensual team. Their mission was to give both of them the most decadent pleasure.

Strike’s gentle rocking shifted into savage thrusts. His balls slapped her chin. His grunts echoed in the chamber. Those primitive sounds plucked at Kesser’s nipples and stroked her pussy.

Her desire rose as quickly as his did. It pulsed through her form. And connection, physical, emotional, and spiritual, flowed between them. They were linked in passion, in caring, in need.

Fates. She craved him.

Her dominant male seized the lead in their encounter. He cupped the back of her head, securing her to him, as he drove into her mouth. She tightened her clasp on his base and held on, willing him to use her as he wished.

And he wished to use her hard. He fucked her mouth thoroughly. Her lips hummed. Her jaw ached. Yearning wrapped around her chest.

“Mine.” His declaration changed to one of possession. “Mine.”

She was his. In all ways. And she would have followed him to the ends of the universe.

Instead, he had chosen to maintain the peace around her home planet, to give her that harmony, that reassurance that everyone she cared for would be protected, would be safe.

She worshiped him for that, for everything he’d done and would do, for the joy he’d gifted her, for the confidence he’d nourished, for the way he cherished her with his words, his hands, his cock.

“Close.” He huffed. “So close.”

She tilted her head upward to meet his gaze. Her teeth grazed his shaft.

“Mine.” He howled and thrust as deep as she allowed. Cum propelled from his tip and slammed into the back of her throat. His eyes went dark.

She swallowed. Essence and effervescence flowed down her form and hit her core. Pleasure flared fire hot inside her. She screamed around his cock. Her lips reverberated against his flesh.

“Mine.” Her cyborg roared again. More cum flooded her mouth.

Kesser swallowed and came, swallowed and came. Her body quaked against Strike’s. Her bliss obliterated her thoughts.

All she knew was him and her and the euphoria sweeping over her.

Her fingers and toes, breasts and pussy, chest and ass, and everywhere else bubbled. The link between them strengthened. His heat eddied around her. His taste pirouetted on her tongue.

“Fraggin’ hole.” Her cyborg’s legs folded under him. His cock slipped from her lips.

He fell.

His knees hit the floor with a loud smack. The metal tiles bent under the impact.

She winced. That must’ve hurt.

Her cyborg showed no signs of discomfort. He pulled her to him and pressed her face against his heaving chest. “My female.” His big body shook.

She wrapped her arms around him. “I have you.” She rubbed his back. “I’ll always have you. You’re my male.” She paused. He might not hear her. She wasn’t certain if that part of him had reactivated. But she had to tell him. “I love you.”

He recoiled as though she had struck him.

Fates. She’d said the words too soon.

Kesser’s stomach twisted painfully. “You might not be ready to hear that, but⁠—”

“I’m ready.” Her cyborg gazed down at her. His eyes blazed with energy.

Her face heated. “I love you.” She repeated those three words.

They’d already been said…and heard once. An additional time wouldn’t change anything. And she wanted to say them.

She wanted to tell him everything she felt.

That urge was too strong for her to resist.

“I think I loved you the moment I sensed your presence.” She had trusted him immediately. That was indisputable. And trust was often a component of love. “I saw Talley and Tsadok being abducted, and I was so scared. Then I looked across the crowd, and you were there, and I knew…I knew I was no longer alone. You’d be by my side during the rescue and maybe for longer than that.”

“There is no maybe.” Strike bracketed her cheeks with his big rough hands. “Any parting we would’ve been forced to endure would’ve been temporary. Because I am yours forever. You’re loyal and brave and beautiful, and I processed as soon as I caught a whiff of your scent—” Her cyborg inhaled deeply. “—you were mine. Mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to love.”

“I’m yours to love?” She stared up at him.

Did he love her back?

“I feel the human love emotion for you, my female.” He confirmed that her greatest hope was, indeed, a reality. “I told myself, when you approached me about the rescue, that I’d investigate the pulsing sound while we were on Powlus Zetus, but the primary reason I accompanied you was because you were mine. I had to be with you. You could’ve asked me to fly across the universe with you and I would have gone with you with no hesitation.”

He had felt the same connection as she did.

Heat spread across her chest. “I know this likely sounds foolish, but when I looked at you, I felt like you were already looking at me. Which is impossible. You were too far away from me. You couldn’t have detected my scent at that distance.”

“I would’ve detected your scent from a greater distance than that.” He rested his forehead against hers. “And I had assistance in locating you. A being in the crowd told me my female needed my protection.”

“They told you that?” Kesser frowned. “That’s strange.” She couldn’t imagine how anyone, other than the beings involved in the abduction, would know she required help. “What did this being look like?”

“She had the palest-blue eyes I’ve ever encountered, and her voice circumvented my auditory system and went straight to my core.” Her cyborg clasped her hands against his chest.

“I’ve never met anyone with pale-blue eyes. And I don’t know any beings whose voices have that ability.” Kesser nibbled on her bottom lip.

She had heard stories about beings matching that description. The Fates were said to have pale-blue eyes and an otherworldly way of talking.

But the Fates weren’t real.

And she doubted, if they were real, they’d concern themselves with her situation. She was a support being, not a high-profile planetary leader or another influential someone.

“I’m grateful to that being.” Strike lifted her hands to his lips. “She gave us more moments together, and every moment with you is precious.” He kissed Kesser’s fingertips one by one. His nanocybotics fizzed on her skin. “But I would’ve located you, my female. We were manufactured for each other.”

“We’re destined to be together.” She pushed the puzzle of the mysterious being to the back of her mind, and she focused on her male, on the love shining from his eyes. “I love you, my male.”

“I love you, my female.” He skimmed his lips over hers.

She chased his kiss.

He allowed her to catch it.

And their embrace deepened. Their tongues entwined.

She gripped his shoulders.

Her male tightened his hold on her, clasping her as though he never wanted to let her go.

Because he didn’t want to release her.

Her lips curled upward. She never disappeared into the background with her cyborg. Her efforts and her needs and her preferences weren’t invisible.

Strike saw her. He truly saw her.

She would gaze at him. He would be gazing back at her.

She’d reach for him. He’d already have his arms wrapped around her.

The two of them were in sync. They were connected.

Moments passed.

She savored his warmth, his presence.

They didn’t move.

And if they’d had complete control over their surroundings, they likely would have stayed like that for longer.

But they could soon share their surroundings with, at least, one other being.

Kesser sighed and reluctantly pulled away from her cyborg. “We should don some garments.”

“Do you want to don some garments?” Strike lifted one of his eyebrows.

“No.” She wanted to push him onto his back, lower herself on his thick cock and boink him into the tiled floor until his eyes went dark. “But Talley will be returning to the ship. She might bring Tsadok and his dad with her.” They would then get an eyeful and she would never be able to meet their gazes again. “I really don’t want them to see my bare ass.”

“You have a spectacular ass, my female.” Her male cupped that part of her with both of his big hands.

Her pussy clenched around nothing.

She wanted him. Again. Always.

“And I’ll detect their approach.” He gave her another reason to delay their return to reality. “You’ll have sufficient time to don garments.”

That was all she needed to hear to quash her inhibitions.

“You might have to assist me with that task.” She wiggled her ass.

Strike reclined, taking her with him. “I’ll assist you with all of your tasks.” He pulled her forward until she straddled his face. “I detect one requiring immediate action.” His words were muffled by her pussy. “I’m applying myself to it.”

He licked her sensitive flesh with the flat of his tongue.

Pleasure swept over Kesser. A moan of approval left her lips.

Fates. She loved her male.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Strike’s female loved him.

She loved him. A warrior manufactured to kill. A being who hadn’t completed the mission he’d been assigned.

A male who loved her back with every nanocybotic in his form.

He would kill to protect her and shift the universe, if he could, to make her happy.

She was his priority.

They donned their garments. He assisted her as he’d vowed.

She laughed and batted his hands away from her.

Her joy amplified his. Their future would be filled with such happiness. He was 100.0000 percent certain of that.

Before they started that portion of their lifespans, he had to ensure the one task he’d left undone was transferred to one of his brethren.

He would relay his lack of success to Captain. The male might have a preference as to which warrior assumed his responsibilities.

Strike would also inform Captain and his other brethren he wouldn’t be returning to the Dauntless.

His place was with his little human. They were both needed by the beings on her planet and on the neighboring planet.

The two of them would determine the fate of billions of humans and humanoids. He grasped his female’s hand. When he’d ventured out into the sector to search for the origins of the pulsing sound, he had also been looking for a sense of purpose.

He’d found it—at his female’s side.

“We’ll relocate to the bridge.” He walked with her through the modified freighter. “While we wait for your friend to return, we’ll contact my captain.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Do you want to be alone for that communication?”

“I want you with me.” Forever. “My captain will expect a comprehensive debrief.” That was the cyborg way. Information flowed freely between them. That had increased their probability of survival over their long lifespans. “What don’t you want him to process?”

His female had his full loyalty. He wouldn’t relay any intel that would emotionally damage her.

She nibbled on her bottom lip for five heartbeats.

“You can tell him everything. Ummm…” Her humming stroked along his cock. “Will he expect to hear about what we did back there by the docking connector?” Pink pigment brightened her cheeks. “Because if he does, I’d rather not be there for that communication.”

Strike grinned. “There’s a very low probability he’s interested in our breeding specifics.”

Captain had his own female, the Valkyrie.

His brethren, in contrast, would be interested. The warriors gathered as much intel as possible about genetic matches in an attempt to prepare for locating their own beings.

He had found his being. Gratitude and wonder coursed through Strike’s circuits as he lowered into the captain’s chair. He pulled his female onto his lap.

Both of them released contented sighs.

They were together. They were touching. And that did more than repair Strike’s emotional system. It gave him a bliss unrivaled by any other experience.

By any other being.

“I love you, my female.” He kissed the back of her beloved head.

“I love you too.” She patted his forearms. “Your captain will be as proud of you as I am, my male. You stopped a war. You might’ve saved millions, billions of lives. Who wouldn’t be proud of a being like that?”

Strike lifted his chin. “You’re the best of females.”

“I’m the best of females because I’m loved by the best of males.” She looked over her shoulder and beamed at him.

Her beauty threatened to down his visual systems.

“Let’s talk to your captain.” She nodded. “After that, if Talley hasn’t returned to our ship, I’ll show you another reason why I’m the best of females.” Her voice lowered to a husky whisper. “That demonstration doesn’t require garments.”

His female would show him by breeding with him.

Strike’s cock pressed against the confines of his body armor.

“I’m opening communications.” He hastily did that.

An image of Captain and Captain’s Valkyrie appeared on the main viewscreen. The officers situated on the Dauntless’s bridge could be detected behind them.

“He has your coloring, my male,” Strike’s female whispered.

“We’re both D Model cyborgs.” Captain, having their kind’s enhanced auditory system, heard her. His tone was amused. “Second, do I project we’ll soon have a new crew member?”

You’ve found your genetic match, you lucky bag of bolts. Drift, the Dauntless’s pilot, expressed his envy through the transmission lines.

Human females are the best genetic matches. Argot, the communications officer, was biased. He was seated beside his own human female.

Based on visuals, your female appears to be in spec. For a human. Cure, their medic, gave him his expert diagnosis. I’ll scan her when she boards.

Your assignment was more successful than mine. Grid, their navigator, sighed.

He was denied permission to test missiles on our shields. Choice, the battle station’s engineer, explained.

Again. All of them said that at once.

And then they laughed.

Strike’s lips twitched. They were good beings, and he had been fortunate to serve with them.

“My female won’t be joining the crew, Captain.” He met the male’s gaze through the devices. “She’s the daughter of her planet’s leader and is essential to her kind.”

There was a pause in communications.

“I process the situation.” Captain nodded. “You have served the Dauntless well, Strike. We’re sorry to be losing you as our second-in-command, but we’re happy you’ve found your genetic match. That’s rare.” He exchanged a heated look with his own genetic match, the Valkyrie. “Not every warrior will have the good fortune of locating their being or beings.”

Warmth spread across Strike’s chest. Captain did process the situation.

And he was genuinely happy for him. Cyborgs couldn’t lie.

“Thank you, Captain.” Strike’s voice was choked with emotion.

His female linked her fingers with his. “Permission to speak, Captain?”

“I like your female, warrior.” Humor glinted in Captain’s eyes. “Permission granted, Strike’s female.”

“I’m the being with the good fortune, Captain.” She wiggled her lush, fabric-covered ass against Strike’s body armor-clad groin, and Strike smothered a groan. “Strike, my male, is brave and quick thinking, skilled and strong, loyal and caring. Any female would be lucky to have him stand by her side. I am grateful to be that female.”

Frag. Your female can chatter. Grid blew out his breath.

You’re a lucky bag of bolts, warrior. Drift repeated that processing.

He was a lucky bag of bolts. Strike tightened his grip on his little human.

“Strike is all those things.” Captain’s head dipped again. “I process your male, Strike’s female. No one in the universe can protect you as well as he can. He would trade his lifespan for yours.”

Guilt pricked at Strike. “I didn’t complete my mission, Captain.” He had failed to protect his female in that way. “I was unable to verify the origin location of the sound. And I can’t process, with 100.0000 percent accuracy, its source.”

“You were unable to verify the origin location.” Captain lifted his eyebrows. “Do you have a projection of its coordinates?”

Strike gave Captain a full debrief minus any information he projected his female would want to remain private. That included how breeding with her was one of the best experiences in his long lifespan.

“The Humanoid Alliance is active in the sector.” Captain’s expression turned grim. “That’s intel we hadn’t yet gathered.”

Strike projected they hadn’t. When he’d scanned the databases for any information on their enemy’s activities in the space, the search had come back with no results.

“Protecting this section of the border is now a greater priority for our kind.” Captain said that louder.

The warriors around him straightened.

“And finding the source of the pulsing sound increases in urgency.” Captain’s jaw clenched. “If the Humanoid Alliance is involved, that source is a weapon or something equally dangerous. That’s 100.0000 percent certain.”

The other warriors nodded.

All of them hated their cruel manufacturers. The Valkyrie and Argot’s human female had their own reasons for loathing the Humanoid Alliance.

“I project you have the identity and the location of the being who obtained the warship for the Powluks?” Captain’s gaze returned to Strike’s through the devices.

“I’ll uncover his identity and relay it to you.” He’d obtain that information from the First Zetus, Tsadok’s father. “The being is located on Cancri B. The route leading from the coordinates where we detected the noise to that planet is a straight line.”

That increased the probability the pulsing sound originated on the planet.

“Cancri B.” Cure repeated that revelation at barely audible levels.

Captain turned his head and looked at the medic. “What do you process of the planet?”

“I communicate with a medic there.” The male’s shrug was too stiff to be a casual motion. “His tools are…primitive, but he has detected an increase of abnormal growths amongst the humanoid locals. We discussed repairs, some, but not all of which he has applied. The medic’s logic is compromised on numerous subjects, and his communication style is…forceful.”

He cursed you out, didn’t he? Grid laughed through the transmission lines.

He told me he had dealt with scanners with more empathy. Cure’s tone was indignant. I process that as being a compliment. Empathy isn’t required for a medic.

He’d dealt with scanners with more empathy. Grid’s mirth compounded. That’s an insult, not a compliment, medic.

Cure huffed.

Strike hid his surprise.

That was a shockingly emotional response from the machine-side-driven male.

“Could those growths be caused by a weapon?” Captain was focused on the mission.

Cure frowned. “There were reports in the Humanoid Alliance database of growths during the fabrication of the world-enders, but they differed in size and coloring from the growths the medic is seeking to repair on Cancri B.”

“They’re fabricating a different weapon. The growths might be different also.” Captain rubbed his chin. “We’ll send beings there to investigate.”

“My female and I can’t investigate it.” Strike spoke for both of them.

His female splayed her fingers over his forearms.

“I agree. You can’t investigate it.” Captain waved one of his hands dismissively. “You have to maintain the peace between the human and humanoid planets. Having a war fought directly outside our borders while we’re neutralizing a Humanoid Alliance super weapon wouldn’t be…optimal.”

Strike stared at the male. His modification in focus hadn’t jeopardized his original mission. His processors spun. It had increased its probability of success.

“Your captain is very wise.” His female murmured that truth.

“Some would question that statement.” Captain glanced at his Valkyrie.

That female grinned back at him.

Captain shook his head and shifted his gaze to the beings on bridge. “Now that the Humanoid Alliance is involved, I’m 87.2563 percent certain we can convince Power to authorize a two-warrior team to investigate the sound.”

“I volunteer, Captain.” Grid raised one of his hands.

“Cure, you have a contact on Cancri B.” Captain ignored the navigator. He, instead, looked at the medic. “You’ll be one warrior on that two-warrior team.”

“You’ve always stated the crew’s full functionality is a priority, Captain.” Cure pointed his handheld at his leader.

“Are you questioning my functionality, medic?” Captain glared at the male.

“No, Captain.” Cure lowered the device.

“Good, because, according to the latest engineering reports—” Captain tilted his head toward Choice. “—the system that enables the captain of the Dauntless to jettison warriors and medics into space also remains functional.”

Cure swallowed. Hard.

Grid laughed through the transmission lines.

“You have a highly skilled team, Cure.” Captain’s anger eased. “Your role will be temporarily assigned to one of those medics.” He leveled a hard glance at the male. “You’re part of this mission. That decision is final.”

Fraggin’ hole. Cure groaned through the transmission line.

Better you than me. Drift chuckled. I⁠—

“Drift.” Captain’s attention shifted to the pilot.

Oh frag. Drift cursed.

“It’s optimal that the team arrives at Cancri B quickly.” Captain’s eyes glowed. “No one can fly like you do. You’ll be the second warrior on the team.”

I volunteered. Grid’s disappointment was palpable. He lowered his hand.

“Grid.” Captain addressed that male next. “A good navigator should also be a competent pilot. You’ll take the controls while Drift is on the mission.”

Noooo… Drift howled through the transmission line. The male was…particular about who touched his systems. Other skilled pilots on the Dauntless rarely had that opportunity.

Now, those systems would be utilized by the most-chaotic being on board the battle station.

Strike was extremely sympathetic to Drift’s plight.

Grid, however, was not at all concerned. Your controls are mine. The male cackled.

“Strike.” Captain’s gaze returned to him. “Relay any intel you uncover. We’ll keep you informed. Communicate, if you or your female require assistance.”

“We’ll do that, Captain.” Strike appreciated that he remained part of the team.

If only for a little longer duration.

“Thank you, Captain.” His female beamed at the male.

Grid’s mouth dropped open.

That warrior’s stunned expression was the last image they saw before the communication ended. Footage of Powlus Zetus resumed on the main viewscreen.

“That went well.” Strike’s female sagged against him.

“It went very well.” He kissed the top of her head. Her curls were soft against his lips. “I project Drift and Cure will visit us on your home planet once they’ve completed their mission.”

“It’s our home planet now.” Her words gave him joy. They were together, and they had a location to call theirs. “And we’ll let my mom know.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Do you think your friends’ll be okay? Their mission could be dangerous.”

“Drift and Cure are pilot and medic now, but they were trained as warriors.” Cyborgs had been manufactured for only one task—to kill the Humanoid Alliance’s enemies. “They’re competent fighters. And they’re fellow cyborgs. We were fabricated for dangerous situations.”

“I wish those dangerous situations weren’t necessary.” His female sighed. “Do you regret that you’re not going with them?” She turned on his lap and gazed up at him.

“No.” He smiled at her. It continued to amaze him that she was his and he would spend an almost endless lifespan chattering with her, touching her, loving her. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

He felt that truth in his core.

Her lips curled upward. “I’m exactly where I want to be also.”

He brushed her hair back from her gorgeous face. “I love you.” He would never tire of relaying those words. Frag. He had never projected he’d have the opportunity to say them. To anyone. Especially not to the best female in the universe, and there was a high probability she was the best female beyond that. “You’re⁠—”

“What is it?” His female turned to gaze at the main viewscreen.

He’d been monitoring the modified freighter’s systems remotely. “We have an incoming communication.”

“Did your captain forget to tell us something?” His female leaned back against him.

“No. It originates from the First Zetus’s warship.” He opened communications.

An image of his female’s friend was displayed on the main viewscreen. “Kess. Oh, and your gray hunk is with you too. Greetings.” The friend waved. “I met his mom, Kess. And she likes me.”

The friend squealed and clasped her hands together.

Strike’s female mirrored that reaction, also squealing and clapping.

Strike gazed at them with bemusement. He had processed his female’s mom’s approval of him had been important to his female’s happiness.

It now appeared that any mom’s approval was joy-inducing.

He would share that observation in the future with his brethren.

“It turns out—” The friend looked around her and then leaned closer to the recording device. “—Tsadok, after he met me, took his mom aside and told her he’d found his mate. And she was overjoyed because he hadn’t expressed any mate-like interest about any other being. She thought he’d live his lifespan alone, and she wouldn’t have children of her child to spoil. His mom was honest, and she told me she wished he had found a Powluk mate, as that would have been easier with their kind. What with the wars and all the killing and such.”

She twirled her right index finger in the air.

“But the Fates had decreed I’d be his mate, and she would never question them.” The friend continued. “And if I wasn’t his mate, he might’ve still been abducted and maybe they would’ve hurt him.” She grimaced. “We’ll never know.”

The friend chattered and chattered and chattered. Energy exuded from her.

Strike’s female listened and listened and listened. She asked questions and expressed her joy for her friend.

That prompted more excited chatter from the friend.

Strike held his little human and observed their interactions. A small smile curved his lips. They communicated almost as quickly and as much as cyborgs.

“And she wants me to attend a huge nourishment-sharing event with them in eleven planet rotations.” The friend waved her hands excitedly. “She’s going to introduce me to the females of some of the major families in their society.” She tilted her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear. I only have the one garment, and it’s pretty, but it isn’t right for meeting high-profile beings in, is it?” The friend wrinkled her nose. “No. It’s all wrong for that. But it’s all I have. What am I going to do, Kess?”

“Ask Tsadok’s mom to help you find garments.” Strike’s female offered that valid advice. “She doesn’t have any daughters. She might like having the opportunity to dress another female.”

“She does have great style, quiet but classy, you know?” The friend nodded. “And she’ll know what the other females are likely to wear. I want to fit in.”

“You’ve never wanted to fit in.” Strike’s female laughed.

The friend grinned. “I never had to fit in at home. At my former home.” She corrected herself. “Everyone had known me forever. These females don’t yet realize how wonderful I am.”

“You are wonderful.” Strike’s female was a passionate supporter of her friend. “They’ll find that out soon.”

“I hope so.” The friend plucked at her garment. “This fabric is a bit rough on my skin, but I like the way it hangs on me.”

“It suits you.” Strike’s female glanced down at her own flight suit and shrugged. “So you won’t be coming back to Syndiculous 5 with us?”

“No, I won’t be returning to that planet with you and your hunk.” The friend frowned. “Unless you think I should? Does your mom need my presence as proof to show others that I’m alive and well?”

“Recordings would do that.” Strike’s female smiled. “Stay with Tsadok, Talley. He needs you and you need him.”

“I do need him.” The friend sighed. “Especially after everything with my dad. He had me abducted, Kess.”

“I know.” Strike’s female blew out her breath also. “But that brought you closer to Tsadok. Focus on that part of it.”

“I will.” The friend straightened her shoulders. “I’ll miss you.”

“You won’t miss me.” Strike’s female scoffed. “I’ll communicate with you a thousand times a planet rotation. We’ll talk so much you’ll be tired of me.”

“I could never be tired of you.” The friend glanced behind her. “Look, I gotta go. Tsadok will be searching for me. But I’ll communicate with you soon.”

“Do that.” Strike’s female nodded.

The communication ended.

Silence fell on the bridge.

Strike rubbed his female’s arms. He waited for her to speak.

“Talley’s happy.” She turned on his lap to face him. “And we’ll be alone during the long flight back to Syndiculous 5. Do you know what that means?”

Strike had some projections, but he wasn’t 100.0000 percent certain about any of them. “What does that mean?”

She splayed her fingers over his body armor-clad chest, gazed up at him with her big brown eyes, and whispered, “I’m going to boink you senseless right here on the bridge during that trip.”

“I love that plan, my female.” And he loved her.

Strike claimed his female’s lips and showed her how much he approved of it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The trip to Syndiculous 5 was without incident.

They communicated with Kesser’s mom, Talley, and her male’s brethren at least once a planet rotation.

Strike obtained the information he needed from Tsadok’s dad, and he transmitted that to his captain. Her cyborg was in constant communication with his brethren.

Kesser was happy about that. She had worried he might feel disconnected from his kind. But he assured her that wasn’t possible. Cyborgs stayed in contact with each other.

The two of them also trained and they ate nourishment bars. She drank beverage. Strike held her as she slept. He recharged.

And they bred. Three or four or five times a planet rotation.

That frequency didn’t decrease when they reached the domicile she shared with her mom.

Her mom graciously claimed the ground level and gave them the second level of the structure to use as their own space. Strike converted one chamber into a training facility, another chamber into a security center, and they installed a huge sleeping support in their private chambers.

Kesser was sprawled naked over that sleeping support at the moment. She hung onto her cyborg’s broad shoulders as he thrust his cock hard and deep into her pussy.

“Yes. Yes.” She cried out encouragement. Nothing equaled a vigorous sunrise boinkfest. It started the planet rotation off the right way—with passion and love.

“Yes.” Her cyborg mouthed over her chin.

“Faster. Harder.” She bounced the heels of her feet against his clenched ass cheeks.

He grunted and increased his pace. The sleeping support rocked. Their bodies slapped together. Heat flared between them, and connection swirled around them.

She lifted her hips into each advance. Sweat trickled between her breasts and speckled her male’s form. Light reflected off those droplets. His gray skin shone.

He was stunningly handsome and titillatingly passionate. His blue eyes were lit with energy. His face was stark. His jaw clenched.

Her cyborg was close to fulfilment. She dangled on the edge of that abyss also. They fought for their satisfaction together, and the sounds of their fucking echoed off the noise-absorbing walls.

“More.” She panted. “I need more.”

“You’ll have everything, my female.” Strike changed his angle and drove into her.

His base smacked against her clit. Pleasure and pain blasted her.

“Love.” She screamed and flung herself upward.

Her male’s unrelenting form blocked her ascent. She smacked into firm muscle over hard frame.

That full-physique contact decimated her remaining thoughts. She squeezed her inner walls around his shaft as she fell toward the sleeping support.

“Love.” Her cyborg roared. His eyes went dark. Hot, nanocybotic-infused cum bathed her flesh.

She screamed louder. All of her, from her core to her fingertips, was engulfed in euphoria. It was acute, was almost unbearably good. She twisted and turned, trying to escape it.

Strike didn’t allow that retreat. He caged her between his bulging biceps, and he poured more of his essence into her.

She clenched and unclenched around his cock. That intensified the sensual bombardment. Rapture flared with a breath-stealing ferventness inside her, over her, all around her.

Her brain spun. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She ached with extreme elation.

Strike became still. He remained braced above her. That limited her motion as she gyrated. Some of his systems were down, but her cyborg continued to protect her from harm.

And she loved him for that, for everything he did and was.

Heartbeats passed. The frantic need to move passed.

She sagged against the sleeping support. Her arms and legs felt like they’d been liquified. She could no longer lift them.

“Fates.” She nuzzled against his chest. He tasted of metal and male and the salt of her sweat. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my female.” Strike rolled onto his back, not breaking their embrace.

She landed on top of his huge form.

His chest rose and fell under her. His warmth soothed her.

He rubbed his hands over her back, massaging her well-used muscles.

A peacefulness fell upon Kesser.

Her state matched that of her home planet and of Powlus Zetus. Talley’s father, when confronted by Kesser’s mom, had resigned from his role. Strike was monitoring his activities, and thus far, nothing the male had done invited suspicion.

Cure and Drift, her cyborg’s brethren, were en route to Cancri B. Her cyborg was assisting with the planning of that mission.

Setting strategy and defining tactics were the parts of assignments he enjoyed the most. And he excelled at them. Pride expanded Kesser’s chest. He was already considered essential to the ongoing security of Syndiculous 5. The improvements he’d made had impressed all the ministers.

The First Zetus had heard about them and was trying to talk Strike into working on Powlus Zetus’s security also.

And the Powluk warriors situated at Tsicariuk Plains communicated with him regularly regarding their stealth-training programs.

Her male was in demand. But he always brought her with him to every meeting, and he included her in every project. And she never wondered if she was his priority.

He had proven she was his focus again and again.

She gazed up at him.

He was smiling. Her cyborg did that a lot lately.

Her lips curled upward. “I could stay with you like this forever.”

“That’s not feasible, my female.” His eyes glinted with humor. “But we can stay like this for a few more heartbeats.”

A few heartbeats were better than nothing, but it wasn’t long enough.

“I wish we had more time than that.” She sighed. “But my mom has to be present for that land-transport-design competition at the academy.”

She tracked all three of their schedules now.

Her cyborg nodded. “That occurs in a tenth of a shift.”

The land-transport-design competition wasn’t the first event scheduled.

Strike, Kesser, and her mom ate nourishment together at sunrise and at sunset every planet rotation.

That was their time to reconnect, and they all ensured they were present for it.

“We should leave soon also.” Sense of purpose eased Kesser’s disappointment.

They had planets to protect and billions of beings to keep safe. That was important.

They were important.

And they couldn’t shirk their duties and hide away in their private chambers, however tempting that prospect was.

“We’re going in the same direction.” She mentally reviewed their agendas. “We could share a land transport with my mom.”

Doing that would give the three of them a little more time together.

“That can be arranged.” Strike agreed with her plan.

Kesser suspected he’d arranged for them to share a land transport as soon as he’d said those words.

Her cyborg accessed all the systems in their home remotely.

“You’re handy to have around, did you know that?” She grinned at him.

“I do have two hands.” He used both of them to cup her ass.

“I’ve noticed that.” She wiggled that part of her. His big palms on her skin felt fantastic.

Strike’s cock hardened inside her. He groaned.

That deep sound wet her pussy and revved her arousal. She wanted him. Desperately.

“How many heartbeats of togetherness do we have left?” She licked his chest.

His muscles rippled.

“We have zero heartbeats of togetherness left.” He sounded as frustrated as she was by that blast of reality. “But there is a gap in our schedule in 1.4752 shifts.”

“Do you plan to fill that gap?” She lowered her voice suggestively.

He twitched inside her. “Gaps will be filled.”

“Good.” She forced herself to roll off her cyborg before her willpower evaporated. “I’m counting on that, my male.”

She stood. Her form was naked.

But she didn’t reach for her garments. Not yet.

She allowed him to gaze at her.

And he did look at her. With a thrilling level of lust and wanting. He fucked her with his eyes. His gaze lingered over every curve.

His chest rumbled with wanting.

Her male liked what he saw.

That turned her on.

She danced in place, giving him more of a show. All of her jiggled. “Filling gaps is a hard task but someone has to complete it.” She teased him also with her words.

“That task isn’t the only part that’s hard.” Her cyborg rose to his bare feet and gazed pointedly down at his cock.

A dab of precum had formed on his tip.

“I’ll take care of that part in 1.4752 shifts, my male.” She issued that sexy promise.

As they cleaned themselves and dressed and completed the other sunrise rituals, she mentioned all the possible ways she could tend to him. With her hands, her lips, her pussy.

That conversation didn’t help Strike’s state.

Or Kesser’s. She didn’t know if she could last until that gap in their schedules.

She wanted her cyborg that badly.

* * *

They walked into the nourishment-eating chamber side by side. Their fingers were linked.

The bulge in Strike’s body armor wasn’t as pronounced. And Kesser had wrangled her desire under control.

That was good because her mom was standing by the horizontal support and was waiting for them.

She had already set out the nourishment bars and beverages. Strike had been given Pirx Berry-flavored treats. Her mom knew they were his favorite flavor.

“Mom.” Kesser hugged her.

“Kesser’s Mom.” Strike wrapped his arms around both of them.

It was a routine they had. And it never failed to make her mom smile.

“You two.” Her mom batted their shoulders. “Go. Eat. You must be hungry.”

“We have worked up an appetite.” Kesser grinned.

“I don’t want to know how you did that.” Her mom covered her ears with her hands.

Kesser laughed.

Her cyborg chuckled.

Her mom’s lips twitched.

They sat around the horizontal support. The three of them ate and drank and chattered about the planet rotation ahead of them. There was mirth and teasing, companionship and love, and most of all, there was family.

Strike slid one of his booted feet between Kesser’s. That physical connection added to her happiness.

“Then, when I saw Vera Inada, the defense procurement agent I imitated on the rescue mission, I turned into the next chamber. I knew I couldn’t maintain a blank expression around her.” Kesser shared that story with her mom. “Strike followed me into that chamber.” She patted his leg. “And we walked in on the Minister of Agri-lots having his ass examined by one of his support beings.” She grinned. “So now there are two beings I have to avoid.”

Her mom laughed. “What did you do?”

“I couldn’t do anything.” Kesser shook her head. “I couldn’t say anything. The sight of the male erased everything in my brain.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “He was wearing pink leg coverings under his uniform, Mom. They had images of purple-and-yellow bovines with hearts in their eyes.”

“Bovines.” Her mom laughed so hard she wheezed.

“Luckily, Strike saved me. Again.” Kesser gazed at her cyborg, not attempting to hide her adoration for him. “He told the Minister of Agri-lots the pink mark on his right ass cheek was likely not a reason for emotional damage, but he should see a medic to 100.0000 percent confirm that.”

“There’s an 84.1253 percent probability it’s a scar.” Strike shrugged.

“The Minister of Agri-lots thanked him.” And ignored her. Thankfully. “The support being seemed to be even more grateful.”

The young male looked comically relieved to have someone else deliver the diagnosis on the pink mark.

“Fates.” Her mom wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what Kesser would do without you, Strike.”

“I hope to never find that out.” She’d be lost without her cyborg. And devastatingly lonely.

“You’ll never be without me, my female.” Strike clasped her hand.

They gazed at each other.

Her mom watched them. “I wish your father was here, Kesser.” Her voice softened. “He would be so happy.”

Kesser looked back at her mom. “Would he be happy?”

“Yes.” Her mom nodded. “He would be very happy.” Her gaze shifted to Strike. “And he would approve of your young male. He would like how Strike protects you. How he loves you.”

Fates. Kesser tilted her head back to stop the tears from falling.

“I’ll strive to be worthy of his approval, Kesser’s mom.” Strike’s solemn tone conveyed he understood the compliment he’d been given.

“I know you’ll be worthy of it, Strike.” There was no doubt in her mom’s voice. “You look at our daughter the way he looked at me.” Sadness flittered in her eyes. “I miss that. And I miss him. Every moment of every planet rotation.” Her mom smiled. “But I have the two of you, and that’s a gift from the Fates, isn’t it?”

Silence fell upon them.

Then her mom sniffled and Kesser knew she had to lighten the mood.

“It isn’t always a gift from the Fates.” She forced a joke. “Remember when Talley and I dyed our skin dark blue, thinking the pigment we used was temporary?”

“It was semi-permanent, and we were scheduled to attend the opening of a manufacturing academy that planet rotation.” Her mom shook her head. “I had to make an excuse for you.”

“You told them I was blue.” Kesser reveled in that memory. “They thought you meant sad, and they sent me blooms to cheer me up. They didn’t know I was actually blue, the color.”

The three of them laughed.

When their mirth quieted, Strike leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I love you, my female.”

“I love you, my male,” Kesser whispered back at him.

She wasn’t a strong believer in the Fates. But she would be forever grateful for the forces in the universe that had brought them together that first planet rotation.

And she was grateful she’d approached him, a complete stranger, in the crowd of cloaked beings.

He hadn’t been the Powluk guard she’d originally thought he was.

Strike was better.

He was the best. For her. For her mom. For their planet.

In 1.4752 shifts, when they had a gap in their schedule, she would show him how much she loved him.

Kesser’s lips curled upward.

Support beings quietly ran the world.

They also not-as-quietly boinked the nuts and bolts off their cyborg males.

She planned to do both.

With passion and with love.

* * *

If you enjoyed Strike Zone and would like to receive updates on characters plus a notification when Drift Would, the second story in the Dauntless Cyborgs series, becomes available, sign up for Cynthia Sax’s monthly newsletter at:

http://cynthiasax.com/newsletter/

Keep in touch with Cynthia using the following links:

Website: CynthiaSax.com

Newsletter: Taste of Cyn newsletter

Twitter: @CynthiaSax

Blog: TasteOfCyn.com

OTHER BOOKS BY CYNTHIA SAX

Dauntless Cyborgs Series

Strike Zone

Cyborg Sizzle Series

Releasing Rage

Breathing Vapor

Being Green

Crash And Burn

Defying Death

Chasing Mayhem

Jumping Barrel

Hers To Command

Ghost of a Machine

Seeking Vector

Knowing Zip

Taking Vengeance

The Cyborg's Secret Baby

Dark Arsenal

Cyborg Space Exploration

Choosing Chuckles

Doc's Orders

Dominance And Dissent

Passion Surge

North Bound

Testing Truth

Rebel Cyborgs Series

Containing Malice

Under Strain

Baring Grudge

B Free

Seizing Power

Cyborg Unity Series

Provoking Odium

Grin And Bare Him

Raw Desires

Strive For Forever

Intrepid Encounter

Refuge Series

Dark Thoughts

Dark Flight

Dark Strength

Dark Fire

Dark Warlord

Dark Cure

Chamele Barbarian Warlord Series

Warlord Sky

Warlord's Bounty

Warlord Unarmed

Warlord Reunited

Warlord’s Mercy

Warlord’s Return

DRIFT WOULD – EXCERPT

Here is an unedited excerpt from Drift Would, the second story in the Dauntless Cyborgs series.

* * *

According to his lifeform scans, there were six humanoid males, one humanoid female and one human female inside the beverage outlet. He 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 finger grips 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.

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.

His fellow cyborgs processed he loved ships. They didn’t process how much he loved them.

He had to force himself to step back from the mounted transport. When Drift 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.

* * *

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ABOUT CYNTHIA SAX

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, on TV, and on numerous top ten lists.

She lives in a world filled with magic and romance. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they adore. They live passionately. They play hard. They love the same women forever.

Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled monthly newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Keep in touch with Cynthia using the following links:

Website: CynthiaSax.com

Newsletter: Taste of Cyn newsletter

Twitter: @CynthiaSax

Blog: TasteOfCyn.com

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