He grabbed his head, pain shooting through his brain as he fought to remember more details about who he was, how he got here. And then he did remember. Unbearable pain went through his being, squeezing his chest in a vise as he remembered the night before his capture. His mission. The fight in the bar. Andraya’s sightless eyes, her body falling to the floor. Agony choked him, stole his breath.
His cry of anguish was harsh as he fell to his knees, gripping his head in his hands. He dry-heaved into the pile of dead bodies.
His sister. Her eyes sightless forever.
The grief pushed aside the pettiness of his rage. He had no right to feel sorry for himself, to be angry at what he’d lost. She would never be alive to feel anything again.
He sat there for long moments, overwhelmed with the emotion he hadn’t been allowed to feel. He didn’t fight it, but burned with it, endured it, allowed it to blaze through him and turn him to ash.
Like the fabled bird, the Fenix, he had to rise from the ashes of her death, and his own.
The silence was deafening, the sole noise in the room the harshness of his breaths. His sister was gone. He had been transformed. There was no going back.
Conflicting thoughts and memories disappeared, leaving in their wake nothing but the horrible certainty that he had to keep going.
Finally, he stood.
The elf cowered in the corner, her arms wrapped around her legs. As if becoming smaller would cancel out what she had done.
“Come here,” he ordered in a tone that offered no alternative.
She rose, steps hesitant, poised to flee at any moment.
So small. So in need of protection.
She reminded him of his sister.
Her eyes slowly rose to his face, taking in his form. “Are you going to kill me?” her voice quavered with fear.
He stood there for long moments, watching her with narrowed eyes. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Probably not.”
That must have been enough for her. She avoided his gaze, but did as he asked, reminding him even more of Andraya. There was a time when his sister hadn’t been brave. She’d just been coming into her own when the Ardaks had cut her life short.
He didn’t like it, but he was stuck with her. And he was going to have to take it easy with her if he didn’t want her to stab him the next time he shut his eyes. Or shut him down. He shuddered.
Could she do that? He’d better find out exactly what her powers were. There was much about being a cyborg that he still didn’t know, and until he knew he could exist on his own, he needed her.
“What’s your name?” He kept his voice soft, nonthreatening.
“My name is Kirelle. You asked me before.”
He rubbed his forehead. “My memories are hazy, of this place, and before.”
“It’s all right. If we can escape this place, I have information that might help us defeat the Ardaks.”
He took a deep breath, searching his memory and information storage files for some something that could help them.
And he suddenly remembered his mission.
Chapter Ten
Kirelle
Kirelle watched as Omega—Tristin—was silent for long moments, his glowing purple eyes distant.
She knew he was remembering something from his past.
“We’re on board the king’s ship, the Vengeance, right? What is your plan of escape?” he asked suddenly.
“We can use an escape pod if you can override the system so it disappears from the scanners and isn’t trackable.”
Tristin frowned. “If I can connect to the computer, I should be able to do that. But I can’t escape yet. I need to complete my mission. Do you have access to the computer from here?”
“What mission? Why?”
His glowing purple eyes examined her, as if unsure whether to tell her or not.
“Come on. Who the hell am I going to tell, anyway? They’re trying to kill me, too.”
“You’d be surprised what a little information can do,” Tristin said. “It’s what got my sister killed.”
She looked away. She wasn’t sure it was so much the information that had killed his sister, but her youthful indiscretion and lack of judgment.
He shrugged. “I’ll tell you anyway. My mission is to steal some newly manufactured ships from a secret moon base—and I need information.”
Her eyes shot back to him, widening. “Is that even possible?”
He shrugged. “Someone has to try. I obtained the coordinates of the location and the passcodes to get past security on the moon where they are being manufactured, but lost them when I was turned into a cyborg.”
“Even if you do that, how will you fly them?”
It was his turn to look away, and he gazed out into the blackness of space. “That’s why I had Andraya and the twins with me. We were supposed to meet another ship of resistance warriors at the coordinates, and go in together.”
Pain punched him in the gut as he remembered the twins. His recollections of his capture were still muddled. “Do you have any idea what happened to my cousins?”
“The two men with the long blond hair?” At his nod, she shook her head sadly. “No, I never saw them again after they disappeared from the bar.”
“I have to consider the possibility that they didn’t get away. Do you think they’d still be in holding?”
“I doubt it. The Ardaks rarely keep anyone alive for long.”
His lips thinned as he examined the dead bodies.
“I don’t think they’d be here either. This chamber is dumped weekly, and from the few bodies in here, it must have been dumped yesterday.”
“Few bodies?” He raised a brow, taking in the pile.
“I’ve seen this room piled with bodies as high as a small mountain.”
He swallowed. “So I’ll have to hope they escaped.”
She was still thinking about his mission, and remembered the piece of paper she had found when she had first turned him into a cyborg. She bit her lip. “The coordinates—I think I know where they are.”
His eyes narrowed. “You do?”
She pulled the device and piece of paper from her pocket. “I removed these from your boot the night you arrived in my lab.”
He was instantly beside her, bags in hand, taking the device and paper with the other. “Thank the gods. Can I remove this device from my neck now?”
“Yes.”
He detached it and clenched both devices in one fist. “I remember other cyborgs. We should take them with us.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t care how dangerous it is. They’re as good as dead here.”
“I mean too dangerous for them. They’ll need recharging bays and other supplies, and I don’t know how we’ll find them after we escape. If we can’t recharge them in time they could die. And I don’t have that many spare batteries.”
“If we leave them here, they will definitely die. Look at what the king did to me.”
“He did that because you killed his cousin in the bar that night.”
“So you’re saying he wouldn’t do that to the other cyborgs once we’re gone?”
She hesitated. “He might if he’s angry enough that we escaped. And the cyborgs are built for war, so eventually he’ll send them out to fight. We do have some portable rechargers, but even if they’re fully charged, all of the cyborgs will only have twenty-four standard hours at best before they have to recharge.”
“They could also help us steal the ships and complete the mission.”
She looked doubtful. “The only cyborg who might be able to fly a ship on his own would be you. The others would have to work together to fly one.”
“We should take them anyway. They deserve the chance to be free.”
She paused. “If I help you free them and complete your mission, you have to help me get back home. I want to try to find my parents.”
“Done,” he agreed.
&
nbsp; She hesitated again. She trusted his word, but really didn’t want to go back up to the labs. “I don’t know how long we’ve been down here. They could already be searching the labs if they realize I’m missing.”
His face grew dark. “Let them come! I feel like killing a few Ardaks with my bare hands.”
“Look, you’re strong, but you’re not infallible, as you’ve seen. Enough of them can still kill you.” That reminded her of the extra clothing and his exoarmor. “I brought you some extra clothing, and your exoarmor is over there. Put it on.”
He took several steps toward it, then stopped. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t take orders from you. And I don’t want to wear it. It reminds me of being a cyborg.”
“It wasn’t an order, it was a suggestion. Or a strong recommendation. Call it whatever you want. But right now, you’re naked. And you are a cyborg, and even you know that you’re several times stronger and faster with it on. You’ll be able to kill more of them with it than without it. The goal is to escape and not die, right?”
He clenched his jaw and didn’t look at her. “I know you’re right. I just really don’t want to put on that exoarmor. And I don’t want to leave without killing some Ardaks.”
“It’s better to be unseen and unheard and live to fight another day. Especially if you have a second mission to accomplish.” She hesitated, wondering if he would be able to control himself if they ran into some Ardaks. If not, he’d probably get them killed.
He was silent for long moments, then took a deep breath and reached for the clothing. “All right. Clothing. Exoarmor. Unseen and unheard. Let’s go.”
Chapter Eleven
Tristin
Tristin adjusted the bags on his back, following Kirelle back out into the corridor. His senses were on high alert, but the hall was deserted. He checked for cameras and security features as they progressed, but couldn’t find any. Perhaps the king was confident enough in his security that he didn’t monitor his own ship.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You know we’re probably going to die, right?” she asked, not even bothering to look back. She knew he could hear her.
“There are things at stake greater than our lives, elf.” He didn’t know what she’d seen, but his cousin’s entire planet had been polluted by the Ardaks’ Red Death.
She fell silent, pressing the button for the elevator. When it arrived, it was empty, so they climbed in. He was grateful to see that the laboratory level was also deserted.
“I can’t believe they’re not here yet.” She murmured, running down the corridor to her lab.
“According to my internal clock, if the head scientist holds to his routine, he will be arriving in the next twenty minutes with two guards. You typically arrive in the next ten.”
“Yes, I always try to be early.” She yowled her name for the scanner, causing the door to slide open. “Let’s hurry then.” She sprinted across the floor to the glass door of the second lab.
She went straight to the bank of recharging stations where the other cyborgs were stored between uses.
She opened the first station, waking the cyborg.
“XO17,” she addressed him. “Please get your exoarmor and follow me.”
“Cannot comply.”
She stopped. “What? Why not?”
The cyborg’s voice was stilted. “I can only obey orders from Head Scientist X-Blade or SawTooth.”
She exchanged a glance with Tristin. “They must have already updated their programming.”
“Which means they planned to kill you anyway.”
“Then the only way to take them with us will be to give them back their memories.”
He noted the tremor in her hand as she connected the device to the chip into the neck of the next cyborg, XO13. Within minutes, XO13 was fully awake, and Tristin could tell he was struggling with his memories. Tristin remained with him while she removed the device and went on to the next cyborg, XO8.
“What is your name?” Tristin asked him.
“Savar,” he answered roughly.
“Tristin, can you help him get into his exoarmor? I will probably need help with the others. I might not have time to give everyone back their memories before we have to make our escape, which means they will remain unconscious. Hopefully the ones who wake will simply do as I say.”
“I’m sure they will if they want to leave this ship alive,” Savar replied. “No one likes X-Blade or SawTooth, even when we can’t feel emotion.”
“What is your real name?” Kirelle asked the second cyborg.
XO8 groaned and clutched at his head. “I don’t. . . can’t. . .”
She put the device in the back of XO17’s neck, and came back to put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay. We need to get your armor on. Can you follow Tristin and Savar?” She pointed toward Tristin.
The cyborg nodded and ambled toward them unsteadily. He missed a step just as he reached them, and Tristin caught him.
“My name is Jaffa,” he announced.
Tristin tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. “Nice to meet you, Jaffa. Let’s get you two some armor.”
The cabinets with the exoarmor suits were right next to the door to X-Blade’s lab. As he helped Jaffa into his armor, Tristin caught a glimpse of two more glass containers in the lab with cyborgs inside.
And he recognized them.
Casin.
Corin.
Shock and terror shook him all the way to his core and he almost shoved his fist through the glass to get to them. The worst thing imaginable had actually happened. His cousins hadn’t escaped but had been captured—and turned into cyborgs. Their parents would be devastated—and they would never be the same.
He forced himself to breathe and strode back to Kirelle before she could insert the device into the fourth cyborg, gripping her arm tightly.
She looked up, startled.
He pointed at X-Blade’s door. “I need you to open that door.”
“I don’t know how. I don’t have a key.”
“Find one! Or I will break it down!” His voice had risen to a dull roar and she took a step back nervously.
“I’m not kidding, I don’t know how. That’s X-Blade’s office, and no one can enter but him. Why do you need it open?”
He growled and a hardened hand landed on his shoulder.
“I think we can do it,” Savar offered. “See? Our suits have a laser that can cut through the bolts.”
In the back of his mind, Tristin remembered the training on the suits. But when he saw his cousins’ faces, the suit training had receded into the background. He was going to have to learn to integrate it despite his emotions if he wanted to be of any use in this escape.
The three of them strode back to the door, and Savar turned on the laser in the arm of his exoarmor, his face a mask of concentration. He sliced through the bolts holding the door shut.
Tristin closed his eyes for a moment and practiced mentally turning on the laser on his own suit and running through the system.
Once the door was free, Tristin pushed it open. He sprinted across the room to the glass containers holding the two cyborgs, throwing the first open and inserting the device into the back of the blond man’s neck.
Kirelle gasped from behind him. “I don’t understand why these two are here. I had no idea X-Blade was making his own cyborgs!”
“Well, he is. And he made two of them from my cousins.” He held the younger man gently, his voice low. “Casin, it’s me. Tristin. You’re going to be fine.”
The younger man’s face scrunched up in pain and he groaned.
Kirelle opened the glass of the second cyborg, and Savar pulled him from the container, bringing him to Tristin. He pulled the device from the back of Casin’s neck and handed it to her, and she proceeded to put it in the back of Corin’s neck.
The other cyborgs had followed them in, and Tristin realized the last one didn’t have armor. “Savar, can yo
u suit him up while I take care of these two?”
“My name is Evett,” the cyborg offered.
“Come on, Evett,” Savar said gruffly. “Let’s get you into some exoarmor.”
When Corin was finished with the device, Kirelle took it back to her lab to use it on the next cyborg.
Tristin didn’t leave their sides, and within minutes his cousins were coherent enough to put on their exoarmor with Tristin’s help.
Once they were fully suited, Casin shot him a grin. He was obviously getting back to his former self. “Bet you never saw this coming, Cousin.”
Tristin threw an arm around each of them and crushed them to him as they squawked in protest. “You can’t know how happy I am to see you. Even though you were supposed to fucking run.”
“Cousin, such language,” Casin remarked, disentangling himself from Tristin’s grasp.
“We did run,” Corin grumbled. “The Ardaks had blocked off access to our ship.”
As he processed their situation, suddenly the stakes were higher than he could have imagined. It wasn’t just about the resistance and the ships—and this could not be a suicide mission. He had to get his cousins off this ship alive. “We need to escape this ship immediately.”
“Escape?” Casin exploded. “They killed Andraya! We don’t need to escape. We need to blow this fucking Ardak ship out of the sky!”
The tone of anguish in his voice struck Tristin with a fresh wave of fury.
“That would take a hell of a lot more than a few cyborgs,” Kirelle told him crisply, though not without a hint of empathy. “This is the king’s ship we’re talking about.”
“Why the hell are we listening to her?” Corin demanded. “She’s with them.”
“Do you not see this collar?” She yanked at the collar around her neck. “We’re all prisoners here. We all want to leave. Your death wish is going to get everyone killed.”
“I have the coordinates for the moon base so we can complete our mission for the ARF,” Tristin told them. “There will be time enough for revenge later. But for now, I agree with the elf. We need to wake these last four and get off this ship. There are simply too many Ardaks for us to fight, and no way we can do any real damage with only the few of us.”
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