The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed

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The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed Page 24

by T C Southwell


  "If I'm not human, what am I?"

  She smiled, continuing to drift around him so he had to turn to face her. "I phrased that badly; your tongue is alien to me. You are human, but disfigured. Your blending with Gwaran was clumsily done. I can change that, make you better, and heal you."

  "Why should I trust you?"

  "You do not have to. I can return you to your ship as you are. I merely offer a reward for your aid."

  The second figure moved closer. "Argent is well enough to return to the above realm, sweetness. We must leave."

  Ramela turned to face Sabre. "Decide."

  "My ship was damaged during the battle, can you help?"

  "Alas, we cannot."

  "What fuel does your ship use?"

  "Argent is a living being, and she lives on light."

  He nodded. "I see."

  "Your decision?"

  Sabre hesitated, gazing at her. Surely something so beautiful would not harm him, especially after he had helped them? Still, the prospect of changes being made to his mind, after he had just started to get used to the ones that had already happened, made him uneasy. He wished he had more time to consider it, but if it would undo the damage the cyber had caused, how could it be bad?

  He inclined his head. "Heal me."

  Ramela smiled and raised a fragile hand, making a graceful gesture. A filament of light shot from her fingers and struck his brow like a sledgehammer. He sensed a tearing deep within his mind, then darkness slammed down.

  ****

  Tassin jumped aside with a gasp as a blinding flash beside her forced her to close her eyes. A moment later she opened them a slit, spots dancing in them. The bridge had returned to its usual subtle lighting, and Sabre lay on the floor where the flash had occurred, his eyes closed and his skin glowing golden, as if a residue of light suffused it. She gave a cry of joy and concern and fell to her knees beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  "Sabre!"

  The brow band blazed with red lights, which dimmed and started to flash again. He breathed, to her intense relief, and appeared unharmed, but unconscious.

  Atrel shoved her aside and took her place, pressing his fingers to Sabre's throat. "He lives. Call the medics."

  "Sir, the ship!" Vior said, pointing at the screens.

  Tassin looked up as the star ship's brilliance dimmed, and it faded away. Everyone stared at the empty, star-filled space for several minutes, then the medics arrived, breaking the spell. They examined Sabre and took him to the medical centre for observation. Tassin went with them, and Tarl arrived five minutes later and hurried to the bed, frowning as he examined Sabre.

  "What happened?"

  Tassin explained while he pried open one of Sabre's eyes and studied it, checked his pulse and spent several minutes examining the brow band.

  "Bloody hell," he commented when Tassin finished. "Everyone wants a piece of him, poor sod."

  "What did they do to him?"

  "I don't know, exactly, but that's wrong." He pointed at a green light on the brow band. "That was red before, with good reason."

  "What does it mean?"

  "It's the seventh control light. It can't be green while the others are red. Not possible." He shook his head. "These new red ones are also strange. They were off before, indicating a lack of access to these areas. If they're red, it means there's a fault. Everything's haywire."

  "But he's all right?"

  "Yeah, he's fine. He's just in a coma."

  "What does that mean?"

  "He's had some sort of trauma to the brain. A shock maybe."

  Tassin frowned. "They said they wouldn't hurt him."

  "Maybe they didn't." Tarl peered at Sabre's hand, then pushed back the sleeve of his tunic and pulled one of the bright lights closer, shining it on his skin. "Look at this."

  Tassin leant over to study the brightly lighted area, noticing that it had an odd golden glow, as if the light was somehow invading his skin and being amplified. "What is it?"

  "Buggered if I know. Pretty weird, though."

  "So now he's going to glow in the light?"

  "Looks like it."

  "I wish he'd wake up."

  Tarl nodded, studying Sabre with a puzzled expression. "There's something else, too... His bruises are gone." He unstrapped Sabre’s right arm and took off his tunic, then removed the bandages and stared in disbelief at the area of perfect skin where the laser wounds had been. An examination of his thigh and side revealed no injuries at all, and no scars to show he had ever been hurt.

  Tarl sank down on a stool. "That's bloody incredible."

  "So they did help him. But why is he unconscious?"

  "I'd guess they did more to him than heal the laser wounds. They've done something to his brain, too."

  Tassin stroked Sabre's brow, gazing down at him. "And the cyber."

  "Yeah, looks like it. I just hope they knew what they were doing."

  Chapter Twenty

  Two days later, Nemesis limped towards Avarice Two, her solar wings deployed in a weak corridor. Sabre's sharply indrawn breath jerked Tassin from her doze on the chair beside his bed in the ship’s hospital. Jumping up, she reached him as he opened his eyes and sat up.

  "You're awake!” she said, smiling. “How do you feel?"

  He stared at his hands, flexing them with a baffled look. "Great. Is the cyber off?"

  "No."

  "It's gone. All its information is gone."

  "The lights have changed. Tarl says it's haywire."

  "I've got nothing, no scanners, no... wait, the scanners have just come on again. Bio analysis... on again. They did it." He looked stunned. "I control it now."

  "What did they do to you?"

  "It was amazing. They're beings of pure energy; pure light. She offered to heal me. She said she could give me control of the cyber, and she did. No more bargains, no more asking for its help in order to help you, no more takeover attempts when I fall unconscious... I'm in charge." He studied his hands again, holding one closer to the light. "Wow. Look at that."

  "We noticed. What does it mean?"

  "Archetype, the alien whose DNA was spliced with mine, was one of them, from the upper realm, as they called it. A Gwaran. They did something to that as well; I'm not sure what."

  "All your bruises and wounds are gone."

  "Yeah, I noticed."

  "Is that all they did?" she asked.

  "No, she said she would heal my mind as well, but I don't feel any different yet."

  "The main thing is that you're all right."

  He swung his legs off the bed. "I feel great. Bio-status is one hundred per cent."

  She stepped closer and hugged him. "Tarl will be overjoyed."

  He held her. "What's happening with the ship?"

  "We're heading for Avarice Two. Maintenance crews have repaired as much damage as they can."

  "Good."

  "You're sure you're all right?"

  "Never better." He slid off the bed and found his clothes folded on the bedside table. He donned them and headed for the door.

  Tassin followed. "We should tell Tarl; he'll want to talk to you."

  "I really don't want a third degree from him right now."

  "Where are you going?"

  "For a shower. Which means you can't come."

  Tassin stopped and watched him stride away. His briskness hurt after she had sat vigil at his bedside for three days. Was she expecting too much of him now, or was he showing her less affection than usual? Perhaps it was just the excitement of what had happened to him, but that did not make it hurt any less. Sabre almost reached the corner before he realised he was alone and stopped, turned and walked back to her.

  "What's wrong?"

  She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "You said I couldn't come with you."

  "I meant into the shower."

  "I've done it before."

  He smiled. "That doesn't mean you can make a habit of it. I do have a right to some privacy, you kno
w."

  She raised her eyes to his. "I've just spent three days sitting by your bedside, worried sick, and you... barely even gave me a hug."

  "Ah. Sorry." He looked away. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

  "Well, you did. Do you know how scared I was when you vanished like that? And when you came back, unconscious, I didn't know if you were alive or dead. And you're still standing there like a dimwit."

  "We're in a public corridor. And when I woke up, we were in a hospital." He glanced around as a Trykon warrior rounded the corner and marched past, nodding.

  Tassin rubbed her brow and cursed her stupidity.

  "Come on." Sabre led the way down the corridor to their cabin, where he pulled her into a warm embrace as soon as the door closed. She clung to him, happy to be back in the security of his arms, where she felt so safe. He stroked her hair and laid his cheek on the top of her head in his odd tender way that she craved so much. After a minute she pulled away and led him over to the sofa, pushed him down on it and climbed onto his lap, slipping an arm around his neck.

  Sabre smiled and brushed aside the hair that fell over her face. She studied the new lights in the brow band.

  “So no more flashing red lights in your head?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s good.” She kissed him, and he lay back, holding her on his chest. Her hands found their way inside his tunic and explored his flanks, sliding over his skin. She raised her head to study him. “I thought I'd lost you, and I've realised that it could happen at any time." She swallowed a lump. "I’m afraid..."

  He raised his brows. "You, afraid? I thought you were a fearless warrior queen?"

  “There’s only one thing I’m afraid of, and that’s losing you.”

  His smile faded, and he lifted a hand to cup her face. “Maybe we’ll get through it. We’ve made some pretty amazing friends along the way, so it’s getting harder for Cybercorp to hunt me. And we’re almost home.”

  "I hope so.” She sighed. “Tell me more about what happened on the star ship." She traced the contours of his chest while he related the tale, and when he finished, she asked, "So you don't know anything about these Gwaran?"

  "No. Just that they’re full of light when they’re alive."

  "And now your skin glows in the light. So they made you more like a Gwaran?"

  He shrugged, idly stroking her arm. "I guess so. She also said she would break the walls in my mind, and that I couldn't do it on my own."

  "Do you feel any different?"

  "No, she said it would take time." His hand slid up to her shoulder and traced the line of her collar bone.

  "How long?"

  "She didn't say." His fingers reached the base of her throat and found the little hollow there, a slight frown tugging at his brows. He snatched his hand away, and Tassin found herself alone on the sofa, which surprised her, since she had been lying on top of him.

  He headed for the bathroom. "Time for that shower."

  When Sabre emerged half an hour later, she had poured a soft drink and ordered a hot meal from the auto-chef machine. His camouflage trousers and vest were clean and pressed, evidently laundered by the automated clothes cleaner in the washroom while he showered. After the meal, Sabre announced that he was going to the bridge to check on the ship's progress. As he turned to leave, an alarm whooped, and he hesitated, turning to Tassin as she jumped up.

  An explosion ripped through the wall beside her, lifted her off her feet and slammed her into the opposite wall with stunning force. Fire swept across the room, igniting the sofa. Sabre had been flung out of the door, and ran back in. She struggled to breathe, her chest aching. Thick black smoke poured from the sofa, making her cough. The fire leapt high between her and Sabre, making her cower from its heat.

  Sabre raised his arms to shield his face. "Tassin!"

  Tassin tried to answer, but the smoke choked her and she curled up, coughing. Sabre leapt through the flames and reached her in two strides, falling to his knees. The skin of his arms glowed, and the brow band flashed as it scanned her.

  "Are you okay?"

  When she nodded, he scooped her up and turned to the wall of fire, which now reached the ceiling. Tassin wound her arms around his neck and buried her face in the side of it while she struggled to breathe. Sabre hesitated, then his arms tightened and he ran at the flames, leaping through them in an instant of searing heat. Tassin cried out as her skin burnt and fire danced in her hair.

  Sabre sprinted through the door and lowered her to the floor, patting out the flames in her hair while she writhed and yelped. He crouched over her, blocking the heat that emanated from the burning cabin, and examined her red, painful arms. Picking her up again, he kicked down the door of the nearest cabin and strode through it to the washroom, placed her in the shower and switched it on. Tassin gasped when the cold water hit her burnt skin, but it soothed the pain. Sabre crouched beside her again, channelling water onto the worst burns.

  "You're okay. It's not too bad. First and second degree only."

  She nodded, gazing at him. "What about you?"

  "I seem to be okay."

  "You jumped through the fire twice."

  "I'm all right."

  "What happened?" she asked.

  "We're being attacked."

  "By whom?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know. Have your arms stopped burning?"

  "Yes, almost."

  "Okay, a little longer, then." As he channelled more water over her reddened skin, another explosion shook the ship. Switching off the shower, he swept her up and sprinted for the bridge, shoving aside anyone foolish enough to get in his way. Atrel swung around when Sabre entered the bridge, his expression grim.

  "The pirates have returned with some friends."

  Sabre deposited Tassin on a chair and straightened to study the five ships in the screens. Two were as large as Nemesis, the other three a little smaller.

  "Attack the nearest destroyer. Hit her with everything we've got."

  "But the others -"

  "Do it. Any guns that can’t be brought to bear on that destroyer, you can use on the others."

  Atrel relayed the order, and all of Nemesis' lasers targeted one of the destroyers, causing plumes of weird fire to burst from her hull. The other ships stepped up their attacks, and Nemesis shuddered as explosions tore through her, making Tassin's stomach knot with dread. The pirate destroyer tried to evade Nemesis' weapons, debris drifting from her. Beams of orange light spat from the second destroyer, strafing Nemesis' flank.

  "We can't win this battle," Sabre muttered. "We're outnumbered and outgunned. Why did we drop below light speed?"

  "We had to make a course change."

  "Get us back into a corridor, or we're doomed."

  "Flee, Commander?"

  "Yes, Atrel. I want to live, even if you don't, and if we stay here, we all die. These guys aren't fighting for honour or pride. They just want to kill us. Get us into a corridor. I don't care which one."

  Atrel nodded and relayed the order, which brought unhappy looks from the officers. Then the main engines fired, and the stars moved more rapidly across the screens. Nemesis' lasers continued to pound the enemy destroyer, which was partly on fire now, the atmosphere that leaked from her hull sustaining the flames. Tassin had no doubt that Nemesis was also badly damaged, and, if not for Sabre's rescue, she would be dead.

  "Approaching corridor," an officer stated.

  "Damage report," Sabre said.

  "Decks twelve to fourteen badly damaged. Atmosphere vented. Fires on deck ten and fifteen. One main engine damaged, five thrusters non-functional, one laser destroyed."

  "How many dead?"

  "Estimated seventy-four."

  "Entering corridor," another officer announced. "Deploying solar wings."

  "Enemy ships are breaking off their attack," Vior said. "Commander, we only have fuel for fifteen hours of flight, then we're adrift."

  "What corridor are we in?"


  "UFG746-289-48"

  Sabre nodded. "There's an E-class planet ten hours ahead, half a light hour from the corridor. There's an outpost on it. We'll land there for repairs and fuel."

  Atrel swung around. "That's Ragel Nine. It's a hellhole."

  "It's inhabited, and the only one we can reach."

  "Inhabited by Spraylanders."

  "Better than being adrift."

  "The ship might be too damaged to land."

  "Send crews out to inspect the damage and make what repairs they can. I want the ship able to land by the time we get there. And keep us on the edge of the corridor. I don't want us to pick up too much speed, or we won't have enough fuel for the deceleration." Sabre turned to Tassin. "Let's get you to the medics."

  Scooping her up once more, he headed down the corridor. She clung to him, shivering. "I think I can walk."

  "No need, you weigh nothing."

  "Thank you for saving me."

  He glanced at her with a slight smile. "Any time."

  In the hospital, non-com medics rushed around tending to wounded warriors who littered the blood-smeared floor and sprawled on the beds. Sabre placed Tassin on a vacant chair and dug in a medicine cabinet, returning with a tube of salve and bandages.

  "The medics are all busy, so you'll have to settle for me. Hold out your arms."

  "I'd rather you did it, anyway."

  "This might hurt. Do you want a painkiller?"

  Tassin nodded, chewing her lip while he found an ampoule and a syringe and gave her the injection. Then he smeared the ointment on her burns and bandaged them.

  "I hope Tarl and Kernan are all right," she said.

  He looked vague as he consulted the scanners. "I can't find Kernan, but Tarl's alive. He seems to be in trouble, though."

  "How can you tell them apart from the others?"

  "I've flagged their life signs." He stood up. "I should go and help Tarl, I guess. Stay here."

  "Be careful."

  Sabre loped down the corridor in the direction of Tarl's cabin, which was close to his. When he reached it, he found a crowd of warriors and non-coms fighting a blaze that roared through a hole in the floor. Going to the edge, he glanced down into a gaping chasm five decks deep. The explosion had vaporised the floors and a portion of the walls, but pressure doors had sealed the area off, keeping the atmosphere intact. An inferno raged at the bottom of the pit, and the fire-fighters poured foam onto it with little effect. On the far side of the chasm, Tarl clung to a tiny section of floor, his back pressed to a bulkhead that, Sabre knew from the schematics that appeared in his mind, lined the ship’s hull. The heat and smoke rising from the conflagration made the technician cower, covering his nose and mouth.

 

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