Choosing Chuckles

by Cynthia Sax

  Who would she choose—Smarts and her team or him?

  He would choose her. If claiming her put the lifespans of any of the beings on the Reckless at risk, he would abandon his brethren and be with her.

  “You’re right, sir.” She sighed, lowering her gun. “I’m not stunning you.”

  The tension in his shoulders eased. His rage evaporated and joy flared within him. She had chosen him, had given him her full loyalty.

  “I should press the trigger but I can’t.” Her expression was rueful. “You’re my sir.” His female slumped in her seat, looking adorably dejected.

  “I’m your sir.” He plucked his little human out of the chair, claimed it for himself, set her on his lap. “And you’re my baby.”

  And she had finally capitulated to that fate, accepting that truth.

  But she didn’t appear happy about it. “Smarts is going to be so upset. I let her and the team down.”

  “You were captured.” He brushed a bright blue lock of hair away from his female’s beautiful face. “She’ll understand why you didn’t return the ship.”

  “I allowed myself to be captured.” His female’s equally colorful lips twisted. “Could we leave the ship somewhere and relay its coordinates to her?”

  “We could do that.” Chuckles relented on that point.

  The captain was unlikely to want a strange ship docked inside the Reckless. It would have to be abandoned.

  “Thank you, sir.” His female gave him a glimmer of a smile, her happiness worth his compromise.

  “Don’t thank me.” He swatted her thigh. “You’ve earned multiple reprimands this planet rotation.”

  Her smile widened. “Thank you, sir.”

  She was impossible. He shook his head, checked the ship’s systems.

  They were working properly, would detect another vessel following them within range. The weapons were also fully functional, the few they had.

  “We should unload the males now.” Once that was accomplished, he’d contact Truth, arrange a flight back to the Reckless.

  “That site is in darkness now, sir.” His female rejected his proposal. “It won’t be safe for them.”

  “It’s not safe for us.” Chuckles grabbed a handheld. “If the roles were reversed, the males would damage you.”

  She touched his face, her fingers soft against his skin. “Would you want me to become like them, sir?”

  He said nothing because she was correct. He liked his softhearted female the way she was. It was his role to protect her from the harsh universe, from the beings who would harm her.

  Chuckles modified the handheld. His female continued fabricating the wrist decoration she planned to give to Captain’s female. The ship orbited Vega R.

  “How did you know I wouldn’t stun you, sir?” His female broke the quiet.

  He shrugged. She wouldn’t like his answer.

  “I could have stunned you.” She lifted her round little chin, looking as tough as the Qershi blossoms whose scent she wore. “If it had been any other being, I would have pressed the trigger.”

  He was special to her. That was what his female was communicating to him. It was a truth he already processed. He touched the place on his body armor where the decoration she’d given him was hidden.

  “I stunned you when we first met.” His female said that as though it was an action to be proud of.

  He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Not that I should have stunned you.” She hastily added that. “That was very naughty of me.” His not-at-all-repentant female bowed her head. “But I don’t want you to think I couldn’t stun you or any other being, sir. I’m not weak.”

  “No one with functional processors would think you are weak.” That lacked logic. She was a force, a female one should never underestimate. “Do you think your sir is malfunctioning?”

  “You’re not malfunctioning, sir.” Her rush to reassure him was gratifying.

  “Do you think your sir, having been stunned by you once, would ever doubt you could stun him again?” He forced himself to be stern with her.

  “No, sir. But—”

  “Press the trigger of your gun, baby.” He gave her that order.

  She stared at him. “Sir—”

  “Do it. Now.” He barked.

  She immediately raised her weapon and pointed the muzzle toward the far wall panel. Her gaze flicked to him.

  He frowned at her.

  She gulped air and pressed the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  Her eyes widened. She turned the gun toward her face, looked down the barrel, pressed the trigger again.

  “Give me that.” He grabbed the weapon. Fraggin’ hole. His female was determined to damage herself. He slipped the gun into one of his holsters. “You never point a gun at yourself.”

  If it had been calibrated for her usage, she would have stunned herself.

  “It didn’t work, sir.” Her forehead furrowed with thought lines. “It worked earlier.” She must be referring to the first time she’d stunned him.

  “I recalibrated it while you were sleeping.” He wasn’t a fool. He processed he had a bad, bad female. “You—”

  Alarms sounded. The main viewscreen flashed red.

  A warship had entered their space, was approaching them quickly. The vessel had been fabricated by the Humanoid Alliance.

  The human male was correct. His males were coming for him.

  Chuckles placed his fingertips on the private viewscreen embedded in the console, taking over control from the guidance system. He increased their ship’s speed, changing its direction.

  The warship changed direction also. It would overtake them in mere moments.

  “They’re hailing us, sir.” His female announced that fact. “Should we answer it?”

  “Answer it with no visual.” He deactivated that option.

  The pilot of the warship wasn’t as cautious. His human face appeared on the main viewscreen. “You tricked the wrong male, slut.” Laughter sounded in the background. “We’re coming for Dusta, and we’re coming for you. If you treated him nicely, you might live.”

  “Or you might not.” The other male’s voice was barely audible even with Chuckles’ enhanced auditory system.

  The males laughed again and the communication ended.

  “Can we shake them, sir?” His female looked at him to save her.

  He couldn’t do so and that irked him. “They’re faster, have better weapons and shields.”

  The humans were flying a Humanoid Alliance warship, a vessel built for battle. His female’s ship, in contrast, was originally built to transport supplies. It was slower and unwieldy. That hadn’t been modified. Guns had been added, but they didn’t equal the warship’s caliber, their range shorter. The shields were non-existent.

  “If we reach the surface of the planet, we might survive.” He directed their ship toward Vega R.

  “We can do this, sir.” She placed her hands next to his. “I’ll shoot at them.”

  That wouldn’t accomplish anything. “The missiles won’t reach them.”

  “It’ll give them something more to think about.” Her jaw jutted.

  The gap between the warship and their ship decreased. The distance to the surface was too far. They wouldn’t make it…unless something unpredictable happened.

  Chuckles had lived long enough not to discount random occurrences.

  The main viewscreen flashed a warning. A missile rushed toward them. He swerved the ship. The missile skimmed its side, shooting past them.

  “Fuck. That was close.” Beads of sweat glistened on his female’s forehead.

  It was too close. Chuckles grunted. The humans weren’t trying to blow them up. Their male was on board. They were attempting to stop them.

  And they would do that. Cyborgs calculated…everything…and their odds of not being boarded was 5.7826 percent.

  Three missiles sped toward them. His skilled female blasted one with her less-effective
missiles. It blew up.

  He veered the ship to the right, was able to avoid the second missile, but that put them in the path of the third. There would be impact.

  He rotated the ship at the last moment, clasped his female, securing her fragile human body against his more durable form. The ship jolted, throwing her forward, as the missile sheared off the entire right side of the vessel.

  Warning lights pulsed. Sirens sounded.

  Chuckles locked chambers, sealing the damage. Those internal doors would hold…for a few moments. All of the thrusters on one side were gone. He shut down the others to stop them from spinning.

  The humans would board the ship. That was inevitable.

  If he were alone, he’d stay and fight, kill all of the Humanoid Alliance males. Humans tended to be sloppy and arrogant. They might not protect their warship. He could commandeer it and fly away.

  But he wasn’t alone. He had a precious female to protect and there were less-risky-for-her options available to them.

  He gathered his fragile little human in his arms and stood. His knee screamed a protest. He ignored it. “We’re abandoning ship.” They would reach the planet’s surface by escape pod.

  “The other males—”

  “The other males can fend for themselves.” Chuckles didn’t care about them. He wouldn’t lose all will to live if they died.

  His female’s death, however, would end him. He moved at cyborg speed, carrying her toward the escape pod. His left leg dragged along the tiled floor. That didn’t slow him. Nothing could.

  His sole concern was getting his female to safety.

  He’d achieve that mission or die trying.

  Chapter Twelve

  They were abandoning ship.

  Bettina clung to her cyborg as he moved at dizzying speeds through the vessel. His gait was slightly uneven, the rapid rocking adding to her unease.

  The ship would be lost. Smarts and the rest of the team would be angry.

  Her stones, decorations, garments, other objects would be left behind. She’d never see them again.

  But, most worrisome of all, the males remained locked in their chambers. They couldn’t escape as she and her cyborg were doing.

  “We should free the males, give them a chance, sir.” She gazed up at Chuckles.

  “We’re not freeing the males.” He slapped his hand against a control panel. “They all want to kill you.”

  Doors opened. He carried her into the escape pod, plunked her ass down on the multi-being seat. The hard slap sent inappropriate signals to her pain-primed body.

  She mentally pushed her arousal away, concentrated on the beings in the holding chambers. “They all want to kill me.” She repeated his words. “At least they have that in common, sir.” She put a positive spin on the situation. “The Humanoid Alliance males might not harm them.”

  Chuckles’ grunt told her he didn’t think that likely.

  “It is possible.” She held up her right index finger. “They—”

  The escape pod jolted. Hard.

  She yelped, scrambling to grasp the seat as she slid along it. There was no handhold. The leather was too smooth.

  Her cyborg moved quickly, catching her before she fell off the edge. He returned her to her original spot. “Strap yourself in.”

  She complied. “What was that, sir?”

  “The Humanoid Alliance warship has made contact.” He strode to the doors once more and placed one of his palms on the interior control panel. “It’s time to leave.”

  The doors closed. The floor tilted downward. She was thrown against the harness, the straps digging into her shoulders. There was a whine of metal twisting as the escape pod detached from the ship.

  Her cyborg returned to her side and wrapped his arms around her, relieving the pressure of the harness. She snuggled into his hard form, taking comfort from his presence, his strength.

  “Will they chase after us, sir?” She didn’t have a weapon to defend herself or him. He had confiscated her guns.

  “It would be illogical to pursue us, but humans are often illogical.” Her cyborg shrugged. “I’m transmitting our landing locations to my brethren. They’ll retrieve us.”

  He was transmitting? She frowned at him. “Have you had the ability to communicate with them all this time, sir?”

  He nodded, his beautiful face blank.

  “Can you transmit while you’re stunned?” She studied him. How long had he had the ability to escape?

  “Stunning only affects my organics.” His tone was scrubbed free of all emotion.

  She assumed his machine side was responsible for transmissions. Humans didn’t have that ability.

  That meant he could have called his brethren for a rescue from the very first moment they met. She watched through the porthole as their escape pod zoomed away from the now-linked ships.

  “I never truly captured you, did I, sir?” Her cyborg had allowed himself to be apprehended. He had wanted her to catch him. “It was all an act to trap me...but why? Why me?”

  He was a handsome, intelligent, honorable male. She had been a female intent on trapping him, deceiving him.

  “You’re my female.” He tapped his chest, the place where the decoration she’d given him would be hanging under his body armor.

  She waited for him to say more. He didn’t.

  Because, in his mind, he’d relayed everything that was needed to be communicated. She was his. That fact was enough for him.

  It was enough for her also. He was hers. She’d felt that from the instant she’d heard his voice. That was why she’d disobeyed Smarts.

  “I owe the team one ship.” She sighed, not knowing how she’d pay them back. “I’ll have to sell a million decorations to cover that loss.”

  “Were you responsible for processing the beings you captured?” Her cyborg lifted one of his eyebrows.

  “No.” That was Keeper’s responsibility. “You were the exception to that, sir.” Because she didn’t want another female touching him.

  His eyes gleamed. “Then you don’t owe them a ship, baby. The Humanoid Alliance males followed the tracking devices left in the human’s garments. That was why the ship was boarded. The pilot wasn’t a factor.”

  She jutted her jaw, that logic not dampening her sense of responsibility. Keeper was more skilled at flying, at fighting. The Dracheon female might have been able to save the ship.

  Flames shot over the portholes as they entered the planet’s atmosphere and her worries about lost ships and her cyborg’s motives for capturing her vanished. It was eclipsed by the fear they would burn to death as they plummeted toward the surface.

  Rationally, she realized that shouldn’t happen. Escape pods were designed for situations like this. But she also knew escape pod integrity hadn’t been a priority for Smarts and the team.

  “We’re both going to die.” She hid her face against Chuckles’ chest, preferring not to see their end.

  Her cyborg rubbed her back. “There’s a low probability of that happening.”

  A low probability wasn’t zero probability. “That’s not comforting, sir.”

  “There’s a 10.0259 percent chance we’ll both die.” He pressed his lips against her forehead.

  “That’s still not helping, sir.” 10.0259 percent was way too high.

  His chest shook.

  She scowled up at him. “Don’t laugh at me, sir.”

  “I don’t laugh. Ever.” His lips flattened while his eyes glittered with mirth.

  Her sir was laughing at her.

  “Ugh.” She burrowed into his body once more.

  The interior temperature increased—admittedly only slightly—but she noticed it, and that didn’t calm her fears. Burning to death would be a horrible way for a lifespan to end.

  The escape pod gyrated, the movement rattling her teeth. Being torn apart wasn’t a better way to die.

  Her terror spiraled upward, as out of control as their descent.

  “If we make it
through this ordeal, I’ll be a good female, sir.” She issued that vow, her voice muffled by his chest. “I’ll be the best female you’ve ever met. I won’t lie to you, or trick you, or try to shoot you. Just let us get through this in one piece and I’ll be good.”

  “I’m reprimanding you once we reach safety.” Her cyborg’s response didn’t make any sense. It lacked logic, as he would say.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said, sir?” She gazed up at him, confused by his words. “I’m promising to be good.”

  “That’s a promise you and I both process you won’t honor.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ve earned a reprimand from your sir for that lie and that’s a promise that will be fulfilled.”

  His stern tone caused her ass to wiggle. “We might die before you deliver that reprimand, sir.”

  The escape pod shook violently. A compartment in the wall opened. A container of beverage rolled across the floor.

  Her cyborg folded his body around hers, his hold on her reassuringly tight. She wasn’t alone. Her sir was with her, protecting her.

  “Sir.” She gripped his shoulders.

  A boom sounded. She slammed against his hard body armor, a full form slap that heated her all over, the pain stealing her breath.

  The escape pod flipped once, twice, three times, her cyborg and her harness stopping her from hitting the ceiling. The beverage container flew toward her face. Chuckles batted it away from her, his reflexes impressively fast.

  Metal screeched. The contents of her stomach rose, the acid burning her throat. The rush of movement stopped.

  Everything was still and quiet. She struggled to regain her breath, her chest rising and falling. Chuckles’ grip on her eased.

  “We’re alive, sir.” She rested against him.

  “We’re alive.” Her cyborg cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. “Are you damaged, baby?” He ran his hands over her body, his touching, combined with the pure exuberance of having survived the landing, thrilling her. “Do you require repairing?”

  She shook her head. “I require kissing, sir.” She shamelessly asked for the physical reassurance she needed.

  A rumble vibrated his form and he claimed her lips, surging into her with an exciting ferocity. Their tongues slid together, the flesh-on-flesh contact erasing her lingering remnants of fear, replacing it with passion, with wanting, with need.