by K. A. Finn
'I understand that. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't have been the one to tell me. It should have been Gryffin.' She throws the drawing pad in the box and her stomach clenches when she sees a drawing of Gryffin. 'I'm almost afraid to ask, but who's holding his reins, huh? Who is controlling him?'
His face drops and he looks away from her. Terra shakes her head and takes a step back. 'I don't believe it. You? Well this couldn't have worked out better for you. You get Ares and Gryffin under your control.'
She knows she's taken quite a few steps too far, but the words are out and there's no taking them back. She didn't mean what she said, but that's not going to change anything. She risks a quick look at Desyl and swallows.
In the space of a few seconds, he's transformed from her friend to a pissed off captain. His brown eyes are cold and any trace of emotion has gone from his face. He doesn't even look angry and that's more than a little unsettling. She's not used to seeing this side of him.
Desyl slowly walks over to her, stopping right in front of her. His tattooed arms are down by his side, but the muscles are strained. He may not look angry, but she has absolutely pushed him too far. Terra resists taking a step back.
Until that moment, she hadn't realised how big Desyl actually is. 'The only reason I'm not personally kicking you off my ship right now is because I promised Gryffin I'd have your back. You're a friend, Terra, but don't you dare suggest I'm happy about anything that's happening. I thought you knew me better than that by now.'
'I know and I'm sorry. I didn't mean—'
'Do you want to be a Nomad?'
'I don't know. I'm not sure I can be on the same ship as—'
'Until you sign off Ares you're under my command. You can stay on Ares, I can transfer you to another Nomad ship, or you can leave the group. Let me know by the end of tomorrow what you want. Whatever you decide, you will be under our protection. I keep my word.'
He turns around and stops at the open door as something in the corridor gets his attention instead.
'What is it?'
'Gryffin.'
Terra's stomach drops. She doesn't want to look, but her body has other ideas. She slowly turns and gasps when she sees Gryffin standing at the top of the stairs leading up to their quarters with two Nomad security just behind him.
'What... what's he doing here?'
'Wants to see you.'
'What am I supposed to do?'
'Try talking to him. And don't have a go at him about his leg. I mean it, Terra. It's done. He needs to focus on keeping control of himself. That's far more important.'
Terra turns back to Gryffin as Desyl quickly makes his exit, nodding at the Nomad security as he passes. She knows she has to say something, to acknowledge Gryffin in some way, but she doesn't know what to do.
A part of her wants to run over to him and throw her arms around him. But she's scared. She's scared to drop the small semblance of a wall she's been desperately trying to build around her heart since he went to surgery.
Even in the gloomy corridors of Ares she can see the modifications on his face and arm. His repaired, glowing purple artificial eye zooms in on her as he patiently waits for a reaction from her. Or perhaps permission to come closer.
Terra takes a deep breath and nods at Gryffin. Her heart beats in time to his footsteps. A part of her wants to run, to get as far from him as possible. To shut and lock the door before he gets too close. She watches in morbid fascination as he limps towards her, clearly still getting used to his new leg.
Gryffin steps through the doorway but, to her relief, programs it to remain open. He stops in front of her and drops his head to meet her eyes. She forces herself to look up at him.
She doesn't know what she was expecting. A dozen scenarios raced through her head since he first mentioned his plan to her, but she never expected this. The person in front of her still looks like Gryffin, even with the new modifications.
'Hi.' Her croaked greeting catches in her throat. His artificial eye spins as it focuses on her. The time crawls by, and with each passing second Terra's relief begins to fade away. She swallows deeply, hoping that someone... anyone will come and save her from this awkwardness.
Gryffin takes a step closer and she resists taking a step back. She hates that he is making her feel slightly nervous. An invisible hand wraps around her throat, constricting her air supply. 'Do you remember me?'
He pauses as he examines her, his robotic eye spinning one way and then the other. 'You're scared of me.'
She swallows and shakes her head, trying to convince him that he's mistaken even though she's not convinced herself. She doesn't know the man in front of her. Not anymore. For the most part he looks the same. If Desyl hadn't told her about his leg, she wouldn't have guessed it was a prosthetic. 'Of course not.'
His robotic eye continues its strange dance so she focuses on his right eye instead. Somehow, knowing that their friends had given him his new eye makes it so much worse. Knowing that their friends had taken more of his humanity from him is too much to think about.
He looks down at the pile of her things on the floor. 'You're leaving?'
'This is Desyl's room now. I'm going to move to the station until we know what's going on...'
'With us?'
'Yeah. We don't know which quarters you want. Or we want. I guess you'll be in the med bay for a few days.'
'Yes.'
'Is everything— Are you okay? Are you in pain?'
'No.'
'Good. That's good.' She steps back suddenly feeling like the walls of their room— His room— Desyl's room, are folding in on themselves. 'I better get back to it.'
He nods and frowns ever so slightly. Something about his expression reminds her of the old Gryffin, but it's gone as fast as it appeared. Without another word, he turns and leaves the room.
Terra's legs collapse from under her and she drops to the ground in a heap as she sobs.
38
EARTH
One paces his office, wearing a track in the plush carpet. His ornate mask is on the floor against the far wall. He used it to smash the view screen on his desk before sending it across the room.
That bastard Garvan is gone. A drugged prisoner who had just come out of a rather invasive surgery had picked himself up and walked out of the Council building without anyone seeing him. Quite impressive if not for the fact that, yet again, Garvan had managed to fuck him over.
Why didn't he just kill him? One bullet. One strike. One blow. Whatever the means, he could have taken care of this irritation once and for all. Now, not only had he lost Garvan, but the prototype has also vanished.
He rights his overturned chair and checks the broken screen. No new messages. He leans back in the chair and laughs over and over again.
It's all falling apart. The cyborg program was supposed to create obedience. Each of the participants should have been totally loyal to him and him alone. If the rest of the Council find out that their most expensive asset had yet again evaded capture, and that the female prototype has a serious attitude problem, his career would be cut short.
He can't shake the niggling feeling that Nova has somehow managed to align herself with Thirty-Five. Something about her tone before she left Earth troubled him. But it makes little to no sense. This Gryffin or whatever he was calling himself had never met Nova. The two cyborgs had never crossed paths. He's sure of that. Could something in their programming be drawing them to each other?
He sincerely hopes not. He has no doubts whatsoever he wouldn't survive an encounter from Gryffin and Nova. If the two ever united it would spell the end to the project once and for all.
One groans as a message comes in from Leeson. He's being called to an emergency Council meeting. Perfect timing as usual. His colleagues will be looking for an update on the situation on Ultar. If he had his way, he would destroy the planet once and for all. Once less thing to worry about.
DIXON SPACE STATION
Bray stops at the door t
o the med bay on Cronus. He looks through the glass door and swallows hard to quell the increasing nausea which has a firm grip of his stomach.
Three beds are lined up against the far wall. Each bed is occupied by one of the cyborgs from Ultar. The fourth bed placed at the far side of the room holds Gryffin. For security purposes, they are all restrained to the beds and their implants are being closely monitored. Gryffin more so than the others.
Their mother's face comes to his mind and he closes his eyes as the nausea twists his insides again. His mother would never forgive him for his part in the procedure. He would never forgive himself.
In the last few days, for the first time since learning about Gryffin's identity, he felt as if he had his brother back. Working with Gryffin to get the coordinates of the ships from Avoca was something he would never forget. He actually enjoyed the experience although Avoca would probably have a different opinion.
He opens the door and checks on the three newer cyborgs first. He had accessed their records earlier. Each man is roughly the same age as Bray with the exception of Boone who is closer to Gryffin's age. The Foundation had sent them to Tyrat for ridiculous reasons. Such as they had with Garvan. They had all lost their lives, wives, families, and children so they could take part in an experiment against their will.
Instead of using the faulty control implant, the Foundation had resorted to old-fashioned brainwashing to force the cyborgs to do their will. The men had suffered as a result and still showed the scars physically, but more so psychologically.
Their time on Ultar had helped undo some of the damage, but they would never fully regain everything they'd lost. That's probably why they were so willing to sacrifice everything they had left for payback. Hell, he can't blame them.
He smiles at Felix as he stops at the foot of the first bed. 'How are they doing?'
Felix nods as he checks the readings on one of the monitors. 'Surprisingly well considering what we did to the poor fellows. Dante and Trace are recovering well. They've had two sessions in the rejuvenation pod which has done wonders for them. Boone however is taking a little longer to get over the work. According to his record, the Foundation sent him back to Tyrat after he was altered. Guards used him as a 'how to deal with unruly prisoners' training tool. They didn't hold back. He was beaten to a pulp repeatedly. They used a rejuvenation pod to heal him them sent him back out there.'
'Fuck. Will he recover?'
'He should. His body has been through a lot before we ever laid a finger on him. I'm hoping he'll be fine in a few hours.'
Bray nods then turns towards his brother. 'And him?'
'I'd love to know how the hell that boy keeps going. He should be... well, dead would probably be the word I'd use. Truly baffling. Anyway, his original implants are working with the new ones. The wounds have healed, but he's different. Kind of like he's there, but not there.' He shrugs. 'Who the hell knows? I'm too old for all this. He's awake so go and see how he is for yourself.'
Gryffin glances up at him as he gets near the bed before he goes back to staring at something fascinating on the far wall. He looks worn out and more than a little beaten. Not a good thing for someone trying to hang on to control of a chip in their head.
Bray checks the various monitors seeing that Felix was right. Gryffin is doing extremely well considering. He unlocks the heavy restraints pinning Gryffin's arms and legs to the bed. The Nomad frowns and looks at Bray as he sits on the chair beside the bed and clasps his hands together. 'How do you feel?'
Gryffin frowns but doesn't respond.
'I don't know how you're doing it, but you've got a firm grip on the mods we made. Have to admit I'm a little impressed. Thought the procedures would kill you. The readings show the implant in your brain is working, but I can also see it's not running you.'
'Not yet.' Gryffin turns to look at him. 'It's fighting. I won't be able to hold it off for long.'
Bray nods. 'The link between you, Boone, Dante, and Trace is working. Can you connect with them?'
'Yes. The problem is not connecting. They're in my head all the time.'
'I'll see if there's something I can do about that.'
'Leave it. It's working. You mess with it and you could damage the link.'
He's right. The last thing they need is to give themselves more work trying to fix something they damaged.
'You tired?'
Gryffin shakes his head. 'Too much going on in my head. Don't think I'll be able to sleep.'
'Yeah. You and me both. C'mon. Let's get you up and about for a bit. You need to get the hang of that leg. You're no good if you have to slowly limp after the enemy.'
NEMESIS
Creed stands on the command deck of Nemesis and rests his hands on the railing surrounding the upper deck. In front of Nemesis are their spoils. It's not exactly a fleet worth shouting about, but it's better than nothing which is what they started with.
A total of eight ships had been moved from the cavern. It's less than he was hoping for, but they could easily have spent the next few months sorting through everything in the cavern. The eight ships they picked were mid-range cruisers and thankfully, each one had weapons.
He filled Gryffin in on how the mission went including the fact he had taken control of the facility. Gryffin had been quite vocal on the point. 'Fine.' One word. Nice and simple.
Creed had laughed loudly when the message came in. Seems some things never change.
He had expected a little discussion when Gryffin found out the ship he was on is still in one piece, but the one word answer had covered everything.
Creed wraps his arm around Hardy's shoulder and kisses the top of her head. 'You'll need to pinch me.' He yelps when she pinches his side. 'Okay, thanks. You didn't have to do it so hard.'
'You know me, babe. Don't do things by halves. So, you picked your one yet?'
Creed points to the third ship from the left. 'She's not the newest and certainly not the largest.'
'But she's the fastest.'
'Got it. What do you reckon?'
Hardy examines the ship for a few minutes before nodding approvingly. 'Ah sure why not. With a bit of a Nomad face-lift she'll look the part. So, you got a name for her?'
'Talos.'
'Talos it is. The High Commander has a ship. What's next?'
Creed takes her in his arms again and looks out at his new ship. A few days ago he was wading through the cold puddles on Ocarro. Now he's High Commander of a group he was branded a traitor in and has just got himself a ship.
When Gryffin ambushed him in his room, he had thought his life was over. Gryffin's parting words that day had stuck with him. He never told Hardy what he said. Never told anyone. Gryffin told him he would command the Nomad one day. Creed had laughed at him, straight in Gryffin's face. He's not laughing anymore.
'I guess I better learn how to pilot the damn thing. How long until we're ready to head off to the colony? I'd like to leave the civilians somewhere safe ASAP.'
'Aleena has cleared it with her friend,' Hardy replies. 'He's ready to offer us somewhere to hide whenever we're ready. It's an old mining colony. The majority of it is underground, but we should be able to fit most of the ships in their hangar. Anything else will have to stay under Nemesis' shield.'
'Great. I'll let Gryffin know what's going on.'
'You think he'll come back?' she asks.
'Hard to say. We'll either get the ships ready and meet them over there or he'll come back and we'll assess our options in a little more safety. He wants to get this Garvan guy back first.'
Hardy holds out her hand. 'Well, High Commander. How about we leave Chayse to his ship and get you on your own?'
39
DIXON SPACE STATION
Gryffin keeps his eyes away from anyone he passes as he walks with Bray through the station. He wasn't welcomed here with open arms in the first place. Even he could tell the station personnel had been wary of him, but this is a whole other level of distrust. They're lookin
g at him differently. Now there's a little fear in their eyes. He doesn't doubt he deserves it.
He never thought he'd be back where he was when he met Terra, but, for the first time in months, his body looks like it used to. He'd never been vain. There wasn't a lot to be vain about when it came to how he looks. Scars, metal, and screws. Not something that deserves a second look unless it was to stare in horror.
Since the Scientist took him again last year, his body had felt weak. He never fully recovered from his time in the lab. His body had taken non-stop abuse for ten months and struggled to recover. Until now.
He'd spent too many hours in the rejuvenation pod to count, but it had done the trick. His body was back where it was before his implants started failing. For the first time in months, his chest implant is flush with his rebuilt muscles instead of sinking into him. His body feels strong. It's his mind he's struggling with.
There's too much going on in there and he's having a hell of a time keeping a hold on himself in all the noise. He knows he keeps drifting off and each time it happens, it's getting harder to come back.
Going to see Terra yesterday had been one of the most fucked up ideas he'd had for a while. The second her eyes met his, he knew he should have stayed away. But he needed to see her. It was selfish and all he'd done is make things so much worse for her and for himself.
After he left their room last night he'd been taken back to Cronus for monitoring. The hours when he should have been resting and recovering from the procedures were spent staring at a ceiling panel lost in his own thoughts.
He missed her. They may not have been sleeping in the same room as each other since he was moved to the cell, but he knew she was only a call away if he needed her. He'd wanted to call her. Ask her to spend some time with him, but after the fucked-up meeting with her, he didn't want to put pressure on her.
There was also a part of him that was afraid to sleep, even if she was there, in case the implant forced control while he wasn't able to do anything about it. If he loses control to it, he's gone, and he doubts he'd be able to get himself back this time. So, he'd forced himself to stay awake.