“Gravely, yes. Do you think you’ll be able to bear the pain and continue on with the mission?” She was shocked he hadn’t been hit by a lot more of them, or by one of his own plas-bolts when he’d started shooting inside the armory.
“I don’t know.” He twisted his head to consider the cut. “I probably need a doctor to kiss it and make it better.”
“Kissing blood doesn’t excite me overmuch. Can I just put a bandage on it?”
“That sounds significantly less appealing. Especially if it’s the kind that sticks and pulls off all your hair when you take it off.”
“I don’t think they’ve made bandages like that since the Twenty-first Century.”
“Lies. My neighbor’s grandmother stuck them on us all the time when we were kids. Poor people definitely still have bandages like that.”
“Well, there has to be some incentive for climbing out of poverty and making it in the world.” She stepped forward to examine his shoulder. “That patch of skin doesn’t look very hairy. You’d probably be all right with an old-fashioned bandage.”
“The hairs are fine, but they’re there. Much of me is fine, you know.”
“Like your mass?”
“Precisely. No, wait. That’s substantial, not fine.” Jerick lowered the bag and opened it as much as he could—the twisted, broken, and bent prongs that stuck through the material made it difficult—and peered inside. “I’m hoping this is what was doing the transmitting that Tek Tek detected earlier. And I’m hoping it’s not transmitting now.” He held the bag out to her, as if she should look and offer her assessment.
She peered inside but didn’t see much except for mangled metal. “It looks dead to me.”
“Good. To me too. It was probably recording everything and sending it back to the Black Star. Hopefully, their intel people weren’t able to get a troop count.”
“You actually have quite a few people, don’t you? Cortez brought those ten, and then there’s you and however many prisoners you’ve let out.”
“He hasn’t let that many out, not the ones that are unknowns—that we didn’t serve with—or that have really vicious records. He’ll probably interview them afterward or take them with us even if he doesn’t have time to do that—always time on the way—but he doesn’t want risky people on the loose right now. There’s nobody to spare to watch them.”
“How many people do you have?”
“Eighteen.”
“Ah.”
That didn’t seem like very many troops in the face of one warship with three more warships on the way. There were also prisoners—the former staff—inside the facility that the cyborgs had to keep an eye on. What if some were like her and had a tendency to escape often? She suddenly felt bad for making trouble for Jerick and Cortez.
Skylar reminded herself that those eighteen men were all cyborgs. And Cortez was a smart fellow. They could still make this work, even if the fleet had shown no inclination toward negotiating with him.
Jerick pushed the armory door open fully and extended his hand in invitation. “My lady, now that I’ve handled the pest control, will you please enter and help me make some weapons?”
“How can I resist such an offer?”
“You can’t, naturally.”
As she grabbed her bag and stepped inside, she tried not to dwell on how important it was to make their weapons very, very good if Jerick, Cortez, and the others were to have a chance of taking over that ship. A ship with a crew of over a hundred, they’d said.
“No reason to be daunted,” she murmured.
12
“I was expecting more options and less carnage,” Skylar said, looking around the small and very depleted armory.
Jerick spread his arms, not knowing what to suggest. Maybe he should have jogged up here on his own to check the armory before dragging Skylar up with him. The racks on the walls were empty save for one rifle with dents in the barrel. Two boxes of ammo were left in a crate that looked like it should have held hundreds, and there weren’t any plastech cartridges at all.
“There are some drawers and mini vaults back here,” Jerick said, moving around the ammo-loading counter in the center. His boots crunched on debris—shooting into here to attack the drone hadn’t improved anything. “I’ll check them. We’ll find you a delivery mechanism. If I have to, I’ll make you something out of spent casings and rubber bands.”
“I don’t see any rubber bands.”
“We’ll improvise. What’s that thing holding your hair back?”
“A purple ribbon. I’m sure it will drive fear into the hearts of not only the fleet soldiers but also your cyborg brethren.”
Jerick grinned, liking her more by the hour. Who knew scientists in lab coats could have senses of humor?
“I wonder how long we have to come up with something.” Skylar laid her tools and a few of the vials out on the counter, then looked around at the empty racks. “Did Cortez say when he planned to invade your warship? Or how he means to do it? Your team will either have to go for a spacewalk or the ship will have to get a lot closer, right?”
“He hasn’t filled me in on that part of the plan. Or most parts of the plan. But if we finish creating brilliant gas-disseminating weapons before he needs us, we can go back to kissing and rubbing. This armory is nicely private now that hostile drones aren’t lurking in it.”
Skylar was looking down at her tools and didn’t glance up at him, but Jerick could see enough of her face to notice her cheeks redden.
“Usually, I get to know men more before letting them kiss me,” she said. “Or rub me.”
“Oh? I’d be happy to share the mysteries of my life with you. And you’re welcome to share the mysteries of your life with me.”
Jerick wondered if she would ask for more details about the fight—the killings—that had landed him in here. He wouldn’t lie to her if she asked, but he didn’t want to talk about it any more than he already had. Given what he’d confessed back in sickbay, he marveled that she had let him touch her. She was an upright citizen without any blood on her hands. And he was… not the hero he’d always envisioned. At least not any more.
Maybe she had simply endured his touch because she was intrigued with Cortez. That was probably it. Though she was here trading jokes with him. He found that promising.
“You’re very generous,” Skylar replied.
“My years of monastic deprivation have taught me to appreciate lovers like a fine wine. My favorite color is black. I was the youngest of three siblings and have two older sisters. My dad was a deadbeat who left when we were little. My mom worked three jobs so we had a place to live and food most nights. And my favorite superhero was the Winged Ranger. Is that enough information to inspire a desire for rubbing?”
“The Winged Ranger?” Skylar looked up. “Have you played Astronauts and Avatars?”
“No,” he said but promptly wished he had. Was that a network game?
“Ah, the Winged Ranger is one of the NPCs. He figures prominently in the Misty Sky City storyline if you start your character on Xaranth 5.”
“Just so you know, I’m not sure what language you’re speaking, but I like listening to you talk, so feel free to carry on.” Jerick winked at her and returned to searching the drawers.
“It’s a game. I got into network games when I was a student and never got out of them, even though I don’t have much time to play anymore.”
“Huh. I just had some of the Winged Ranger comics when I was a kid. My mom’s boss gave us his collection when he decided his own kids were schlubs and wouldn’t take care of them. We never had enough money to buy anything like that on our own, but when I got my first pay deposit as a soldier, I went out and got the ten latest issues. I haven’t had much opportunity for reading lately, or maybe I’d know about this Superman that Cortez mentioned, but you know how it is in prison. You’re so busy with chores and various social obligations. Do you want some grenades?”
“Uh, get them out, and
we’ll take a look at them. I was thinking more along the lines of some kind of crossbow-like weapons that could shoot the vials.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You had social obligations in prison?”
“Naturally. The guards came by a few times a day to harass me, and they’d zap me with an electric prod if I wasn’t suitably charming and responsive. Stavis zapped me whether I did anything or not, so I’m kind of hoping a tunnel borer accidentally mows him over at some point during this operation. Don’t tell Cortez. I know he’s trying not to kill anyone.” Jerick brought over seven dusty grenades and laid them on the counter.
Skylar watched him, her expression bleak. Or was that sympathetic? Hell, he hadn’t meant to fish for sympathy.
“I didn’t mean to whine,” he said. “I was just sharing. And letting you know why I’m ridiculously excited by Cortez’s plan and hoping with all my heart that it’ll work out. It’s like when you’re a kid and your parents are being awful, and you keep hoping your real parents will come and take you away to a castle and let you have choco-moons for dinner every night.”
“I understand. I hope his plan works for you too.”
Skylar leaned around the counter and rested her hand on the side of his face. He wasn’t sure if she intended to kiss him, but he was eager to interpret that gentle touch as an invitation and found himself leaning toward her. She lifted her lips, and his heart soared. He hadn’t read her wrong.
She kissed him gently, not with the hunger and need that had been building earlier when they’d been pressed together in sickbay, and he made himself respond similarly. However, the thought of them having hot, hard, steamy sex on the counter did cross his mind. He accepted that such vigorous activities wouldn’t be wise when there were grenades and vials of sleeping drugs on the counter. Besides, he didn’t know if she would go for it without Cortez there. They were the ones that seemed to have the real connection. He was just… he wasn’t sure. She’d seemed to enjoy his touch, and Cortez had given him that look in sickbay, that look that had been far more an invitation than a warning to back off.
Still, she was here kissing him. Maybe she could come to care for both of them?
He pushed his fingers into her thick hair as their tongues teased and tangled with each other. Once again, his mind drifted to thoughts of them writhing together on the countertop, both of them stripped naked, their limbs entwined. Then he imagined the door opening and Cortez stalking in. At first, he would yell at them for screwing around while they were on a mission, but seeing them together would turn him on too much, and he wouldn’t be able to be the good dedicated soldier. He would tear his clothes off and join them.
Skylar leaned back, her mouth leaving his, and he groaned a protest.
“Sorry,” she said, licking her lips. “I just meant to, uhm, comfort you.”
“I’m comforted.” His fantasies were very comforting.
She eased a half step away from him, though it seemed to be with reluctance. Her hand had come to his chest, and she let it linger, her thumb tracing the ridge of his pectoral muscle.
“Are you extracting my ribbon?” she murmured.
He snorted softly, rubbing her scalp, his fingers still deep within her hair. “I thought we’d try the grenades first.”
“Right.” She smiled and leaned her head back into his hand. “Will you do this more again later?”
“Rub your scalp?”
“Yes. Your fingers are wonderful.”
He swallowed, looking down at her full lips and the length of her throat. His cock swelled, and he reminded himself that this wasn’t the time or place.
“I’ll rub anything you want,” he said, his voice husky. He forced himself to withdraw his fingers, to turn his attention, and his cock, toward the counter instead of her.
Disappointment flashed in her eyes. He looked forward to fulfilling her every need later. And to sating his every need.
“I guess this means we know each other well enough for rubbing now, eh?” He winked, picked up one of the grenades, and plucked up one of her vials.
“Now that I know your superhero preferences? I believe so.”
“Do you know Cortez’s?”
“No, I haven’t asked. I thought he might be too mature for superheroes and games.”
“Mature? Like old?” Jerick grinned, looking forward to sharing her thoughts with him. Though Cortez would probably find motivation in the comment and do his best to prove his virility and stamina.
“Well, no. He seems like he would have been mature at twenty.”
“I think he’s just reserved.” Jerick held up the grenade and vial. “Can I just tape this on here, or do we need to do something fancier?”
“You’re the professional soldier.”
“Hm.” He scrounged around. There wasn’t tape, but he did find a malleable putty that might be able to function as an adhesive.
Skylar watched as he experimented to see if it was sticky enough to hold the vials. The last thing they wanted was for their own side to have them break open at their feet and knock out the entire team of cyborgs.
“How long did you know the last man in your life before you kissed him?” Jerick hoped she wouldn’t mind the singular focus of his conversation, but his mind was lingering on their lip lock as he worked. And of thoughts of her with him and Cortez on the counter. Admittedly, a bunk would be more comfortable. A large one. With a mattress. He hadn’t experienced a mattress in more than two years.
She glanced at him. “With my fiancé… my last boyfriend, we made level eighty together in Final Galaxy Explorer 10 before we ever kissed.”
“Final what?”
“It’s another game. We were in the same guild for a while before we realized we lived in the same city. We met in person and had a lot in common. For starters, we both played a lot of the same games. We seemed to be a good match.”
“What happened? You almost got married?”
Skylar winced. “He left me at the altar.”
“Ouch.”
“It was a year ago. I’m over it, but I’ve been hesitant to date since then. It’s just been easier to work extra. And I stopped playing Galaxy Explorer because… well, it was awkward. He didn’t leave the guild, so when I log in, he’s still there.”
“Was he a good kisser?”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Well, we had a lot of common interests…”
“That sounds like a no.”
“He was fine.”
“Still sounds like a no. You’re lucky you didn’t get stuck with him. How unexciting would your life be with someone who can’t kiss? You want someone who… Here, hold my grenade.” Jerick heard footsteps in the distance. He foisted the weapon off on her so he could pick up his rifle and face the door.
“My life has been exciting this last couple of days,” Skylar admitted, eyeing the substance sticking her vial to the grenade.
“For more reasons than one, I should think.” Jerick grinned at her, delighted when her cheeks flushed red again.
He hoped she was thinking about their kiss, or maybe the time they’d all spent pressed together in sickbay. Maybe she was even now dreaming of living out her fantasies. Admittedly, he couldn’t read minds and didn’t know what her fantasies involved, but he didn’t think he was crazy to believe they involved him and his mass. Maybe Cortez’s mass too.
The door opened. Jerick, having recognized the tread, didn’t point his rifle toward their new arrival.
Cortez stood in the doorway, no longer wearing the jacket from his suit, only the fitted white shirt underneath, the sleeves rolled up and revealing his ropy forearm muscles. He wore several weapons on straps and looked like a superhero with his strong jaw and broad shoulders.
Jerick’s fantasy flashed back into his mind, and he offered Cortez a lazy smile and his bedroom eyes. He doubted Cortez had anything similar in mind, but just in case…
“What’s going on in here?�
�� Cortez’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Jerick to Skylar.
Her cheeks were downright flaming now. Jerick would have paid all the money he’d ever had to know what she was thinking about.
“Genius, sir,” Jerick drawled, taking the modified grenade and lifting it to show him.
Cortez didn’t look impressed. Admittedly, the lump of putty on the side with the top of the vial sticking out of it wasn’t truly the stuff of genius.
“What, you couldn’t find any tape?” he asked.
“Couldn’t find much of anything, sir.” Jerick gestured at the empty racks.
Cortez sighed and stepped up to the counter between them. He dropped his elbows on it and eyed their tiny bounty.
“I know it’s not an elegant modification,” Skylar said, “but there weren’t many options. I’m concerned, though, that a grenade will do a lot more than knock people out if it explodes next to them. I think it may be better for your men to simply carry the vials and throw them. Assuming you’ve found a way to get your team to the warship.”
Cortez rubbed his chin. “I’m working on that. The contact I thought would help hasn’t been answering my secured comm channel, but it’s possible he’s being watched. It’s also possible he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to risk his career for some felons.” He grimaced. He looked tired.
Jerick wondered when he’d last slept. He might have been too keyed up on the shuttle ride out here to do so, and he hadn’t had time since then.
“I’ve got Tek Tek and Driggs repairing the shuttle,” Cortez said.
“The one you broke by punching the control panel?” Skylar asked.
Jerick smirked, wishing he’d seen that. Cortez was always so cerebral that it was amusing to see him go primitive.
“Yes,” he said. “It also took damage during the firefight in the shuttle bay.” Cortez intertwined his fingers and rested his hands on the counter. “Tek Tek says it should be ready to fly in about four hours. That would leave us only two hours until the other three warships arrive. If we can take the Black Star quickly, that’s enough time. We can collect the other prisoners and get out of here before the rest of the fleet gets to the asteroid. It’ll be a chase to the wormhole, but the warships are all the same model, so they shouldn’t be able to catch us.”
Unchained_ A science fiction romance adventure Page 15