by Regine Abel
However, as I began entering the coordinates to our rendezvous point, another massive explosion rocked what remained of the vessel. We weren’t far away enough from it. On top of being in the shockwave of the blast radius, debris came flying at us at dizzying speed. I watched helplessly as a large piece of twisted metal closed in on our pod.
Time appeared to slow down as various events of my life flashed through my mind’s eye while waiting for my impending death. I’d survived the excruciating transformation into a Cyborg, countless bloody battles to defend the people of Kirs, and done unspeakable things in the name of the emperor who had now turned on us. And this would be my end?
The force with which the debris struck us sent the escape pod into a tailspin. My teeth rattled in my head, the brutal impact jarring. I’d expected the reinforced glass door of the pod to shatter and for the freezing cold of space to turn the unconscious female and me into icicles. However, by some inexplicable luck, it held fast. Still, the navigation system, rudimentary though it was, lit up with warnings while the damaged escape vessel attempted to stabilize itself. Ironically enough, it took another piece of debris hitting us to help our pod achieve its goal and resume its course to safety.
“Caylan,” I called through our closed neural network.
“Are you safe, brother?” he answered.
“In a damaged escape pod. The navigation system is shot. It might take me longer to reach Gorkon, if I make it,” I replied.
“You better make it. We’re the last,” he answered. “I’m on a ves—”
Our mental link abruptly ended as a massive explosion in the distance obliterated what remained of the transport vessel. Whoever hadn’t made it out yet was gone. My heart leapt, fearing I had lost Caylan, too. However, I didn’t feel a void in our closed network. I wanted to believe he had simply gotten too far out of range for us to be able to remain connected.
Heaving a sigh, I looked back at the navigation system. I had no idea where the pod was taking us. The interface was blinking, strange symbols flashing all over it in scrambled text. For a moment, I considered trying to interface with it to attempt basic repairs. However, I decided against it for fear I might damage it more.
Instead, I turned my attention to the still unconscious female lying on top of me. That she had still not regained consciousness hinted at some potentially serious injury. She had struck her head extremely hard on the floor before getting trampled. However, the fact that she still managed to breathe fairly normally on her own gave me hope that she might make it.
With some painful maneuvering, I managed to access and open the side panel where they stashed the emergency med kit in this escape pod model. It didn’t contain much, only the bare minimum to give survivors a chance to hold on until rescue arrived. I retrieved one of the two hyposprays within and pressed it against the female’s neck. The nanobots within the injection would work on repairing most standard types of damage a person could sustain. If possible, it would handle whatever internal injury—including probably a severe concussion—the woman was suffering from.
Having done what I could for her, I began running internal diagnostics to assess what damage I had personally sustained during the escape. The nanobots, naturally present in my own blood since my transformation, were already hard at work. Aside from lethal injuries that could cause immediate death, anything else would be repaired.
I then closed my eyes and waited to see where the pod would take us.
Chapter 2
Tamryn
A sudden impact snapped me out of my slumber. No, not slumber... The memory of the brutish man violently punching me and then of my head brutally striking the floor came back to me. The mild headache I currently felt should have been a lot worse. My entire body should also be hurting a great deal more. I blinked as everything shook around me. It then dawned on me that whatever confined space I was currently trapped in had landed somewhere, and that the impact had awakened me.
It took me a second to realize I was inside an escape pod slowly coming to a halt, and that the hard, yet cushiony surface beneath me belonged to a man. My eyes snapped open, and I tried to lift my head, but the glass door of the pod didn’t give me much wiggle room. My heart skipped a beat when my gaze connected with the steely gray eyes of a stern-looking male. The CR letters branded on his cheek gave him away as one of the Cyborg Rebels.
Why did he save me?
“Good, you’re awake,” the man said in a deep voice. Typical to his kind, his tone was factual, devoid of any particular emotion. “We have landed.”
“Where… where are we?” I asked, surprised I could even form words.
“By my calculations, we are on Xyva,” he responded, just as the pod came to a full stop.
Seconds later, the door opened with a soft hiss. A wave of fresh air, accompanied by a noticeable heat, washed over us. Giving the Cyborg an apologetic look, I gingerly pushed myself up off his muscular chest, looking to disembark the pod lying horizontally on the ground. A wave of dizziness swept through me. Startled, I gasped when the man simply wrapped his arms around my body and stood up while carrying me. The effortless way in which he did it reminded me yet again of the insane strength of the Cyborgs. As soon as he got out, he sat me back down inside the pod.
He then reached for the emergency med kit inside the pod and pulled out the small handheld scanner.
“Stay still,” he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.
I didn’t particularly like being bossed around, but in this instance, I held my tongue and complied.
“My name is Tamryn,” I said.
He didn’t respond at first, content to run the baton-like device around my head, shoulders, and spine.
“Jarog,” he said at last, when I thought he wouldn’t reciprocate.
I seized the opportunity to discreetly study him. At least 6’4, broad-shouldered, muscular like all the Cyborgs, dark brown hair with stunning gray eyes, and a ruggedly handsome face, he might have been my type if not for the total absence of emotion in his gaze. I’d always thought that the Cyborgs looked like serial killers in the way they stared at you blankly seconds before they crushed your skull with a single blow of their fist.
Like with Jarog, the Emperor had his minions brand my face with a letter. Whereas Cyborgs had two—C and R for Cyborg Rebel—normal people like me had the single letter R for Rebel. However, that did not make us friends or allies. All Cyborgs had been indiscriminately branded as rebels since that paranoid piece of shit, Emperor Shui, had decided to eliminate them all rather than risk having a single ‘traitor’ amidst his ranks. But not all Cyborgs had turned on him when he had launched his mad plans of conquering our neighboring planet Bionus. I had witnessed the genocides, abusive arrests, torture, and kidnappings of those who had opposed the Emperor by the Cyborgs that had remained loyal to him.
Which side had Jarog stood with? If he’d been a loyalist, was he still devoted to the man who had turned on him and his brothers?
“Between knocking your head on the floor and getting trampled by the people fleeing, you suffered a severe concussion,” Jarog suddenly said, snapping me out of my musings. “The first nanobot injection I gave you has taken care of most of the swelling during our journey here. I will give you the second and last injection available now. It should help mend your remaining injuries. There are two bottles of water and two energy bars. I suggest you consume them parsimoniously.”
“Thank you,” I said, stretching my neck to give him better access when he leaned forward to perform the injection.
It slightly stung, and I rolled my shoulders to release some of the stress knotting my muscles.
“Thank you for saving me,” I said. “But why did you?”
He tilted his head to the side, giving me that dead, unnerving look that made me feel like a strange insect being observed under a microscope.
“Honestly, it was an impulse,” he said with a shrug, although his tone seemed to imply his own action had confused
him.
“I see. Well, thanks anyway,” I replied before casting a glance around us. “I’m not seeing any other escape pods or survivors. I’m assuming the ship got wrecked?”
He nodded. “It blew up moments after our escape pod shot out. Many did not make it off the vessel. We barely escaped.”
I nodded and swallowed hard. My big brother Damian, my Uncle Cedric, and many members of our rebel group had been on board but scattered in the various cells of the ship. I had no idea whether they or the others had made it. I could only pray that, like me, they had found a way out or someone had rescued them.
“May I ask why you brought us here? Xyva is a mercenary planet. With our branded faces, everyone will want to capture us and turn us in for the bounties that will inevitably be set on surviving rebels.”
“It wasn’t intentional,” Jarog said matter-of-factly. “Debris damaged the pod’s nav system.”
His eyes went out of focus, and I realized he was currently using the computer in his brain. My sense of unease came back to the fore. Was he trying to communicate with someone on his neural network or busy trying to assess our current location in this desert we landed in? For all I knew, he took me from the ship not out of mercy but to use me as currency to trade for his needs.
When the Emperor had us rounded up by the army before condemning us to a life sentence on the prison colony of Tyurma, Kirs’ moon, they stripped us of our belongings, except for the clothes on our backs. Jarog had his dark grey uniform with black accents, but no weapons. Although his enhanced body constituted a lethal weapon in and of itself, he could easily trade me for some nice weapons and a means of transportation.
As these paranoid thoughts proliferated in my mind, the Cyborg refocused on me.
“I suggest you remain here for an hour or so in order for the nanobots to mend you further before you leave this location,” Jarog said. He pointed in the distance to my left. “If you head in this direction, it will take you about three days of walking to reach Eraka, the closest town from here.”
“You mean we will take three days?” I asked.
He shook his head, the same wretched neutral expression on his face. “I am heading in a different direction. My destination is Kuryn.”
I recoiled. “Kuryn is a bad idea. That city is a nest of vipers and way too crowded. With your uniform giving you away, not to mention that brand on your face, I don’t care how strong you Cyborgs are, you will not last five minutes. Every merc and their brother will be on your ass to collect some bounty off you.”
“I will find a way. It is my best bet off this rock,” Jarog said nonchalantly.
“I have some connections here,” I argued, suddenly panicking at the thought that he would leave me behind when only moments before I was fearing he’d brought me along as currency. “If we go to Satos, my friends there will help us get off-world.”
Once more, he shook his head. This time, however, a sliver of sympathy showed on his face.
“Satos is even farther than Kuryn. You could never make it to Kuryn, so forget about Satos,” Jarog said in an apologetic tone. “Truth be told, I am not even certain that you will make it to Eraka. You are in a weakened state, with little water, and no real food to speak of.”
“I would still rather take my chances going with you than traipsing about on my own to some unknown mercenary city,” I countered, staring at him in disbelief.
My stomach dropped at the sight of his closed off expression; an expression that declared this a done deal and non-negotiable.
“I am sorry, Tamryn, but even without your current condition, you would slow me down. You will not be able to keep up with my pace, and you will die of dehydration long before we reach our destination,” he said in a factual fashion. “In truth, unless I find food and water along the way, it will also be a close call for me on my own.”
Anger and helplessness washed over me as I heard the finality in his voice. Pushing myself up out of the escape pod I’d still been resting in, I stood before him, relieved to find myself somewhat steady. I glared at him, hiding none of the sense of betrayal bubbling within me.
“So, that’s it? You save me from an exploding ship just to abandon me here in the middle of bumfuck nowhere to either die of thirst and starvation, or be captured by some bastard merc? Why take me off the fucking ship if it was just to condemn me to an even worse death?” I hissed.
“We were supposed to land on Gorkon,” he said with a shrug. “You would have been safe there. The nav system’s failure changed that. I am sorry, but that cannot be helped. If you wish, I could mercy kill you. But you strike me as the type of female who will want to fight until the end.”
“Fuck that,” I said through my teeth, battling the urge to claw his face.
For a split second, a sliver of guilt flashed through his features before he regained his stoic expression.
“You may keep everything from the emergency care package of the pod,” he said, as if he was doing me some sort of huge favor. “I wish you the very best of luck.”
With this, the Cyborg merely turned around and started walking away. I stared at his receding back in disbelief. My every instinct yelled at me to hasten after him and tag along. What would he do? Knock my lights out? Nah, he’d simply ignore me and keep going. But even now, looking at his starting pace—which I knew he could maintain for hours on end—I’d never be able to keep up.
Distraught, I swallowed back the tears that pricked my eyes. I hated that he would do me like this. At the same time, I couldn’t deny his logic. Chances were, I wouldn’t make it to that city, not in this heat, not on foot, and not without proper food and water. But I was no helpless damsel in distress.
A quick look at the pale sky and the current position of the sun confirmed it was still morning here. But in a couple of hours, once the sun reached its zenith, the heat would quickly become unbearable. Around me, the landscape offered nothing but rocks, dried dirt, and the occasional half-dead twigs of a wannabe bush.
The pod appeared to be my only chance to live through this. The care package didn’t have tools, but it did contain a knife. It struck me as odd that Jarog would have left it for me. Flimsy though it was, it remained a weapon of sorts. But then, being a badass Cyborg, maybe he could do better on his own. Whatever his reasons, I felt grateful.
After a summary inspection of the pod, relief flooded through me to find both the propulsion and navigation systems intact. Contrary to what Jarog had assumed, it was the computer system that had glitched. A plan began forming in my mind. It was a crazy long shot, but it could be my only chance of making it in one piece. I had no intention of ending up as the latest addition to some seedy brothel, the flesh traders’ market, or worse, back in the clutches of Emperor Shui.
If I could modify the pod to glide—or even simply slide—over the surface of this mostly flat terrain, I could make it to Satos. Even if the pod died on me along the way, I’d still have a better chance if I at least got out of the desert and into a less hostile environment.
Worst case scenario, I would use the distress beacon that Jarog had cleverly turned off for now. I’d prefer not to deal with the locals except under my own terms.
Fighting the lingering headache, I got to work.
Chapter 3
Jarog
Contrary to popular belief, those like me who had volunteered for the Cyborg program were not stripped of our humanity by the procedure. Sometimes, like in this instance, I wished it were the case. We didn’t feel as intensely as we previously did, but we still had emotions. And right now, I could do without this guilt. However, logic dictated I had made the appropriate choice.
A part of me regretted not mercy killing her while she had still been unconscious. She would never know how seriously I had considered it when our pod had approached its landing destination. A quick survey of the map of Xyva, one of the many stored in the computer in my brain, allowed me to know her chances of survival were slim to none. Still, as a veteran member
of the Cyborg Military Elite, and previously as a decorated operative of the Kirs Elite Planetary Defense Force, I had experienced my fair share of desperate situations that we somehow managed to overcome. Tamryn was a fighter. She had survived the explosion and therefore deserved a chance to survive this new ordeal.
It would take me five days at least to reach my own destination. Part of me wondered if I should have gone to the closest city with her. But it was a tiny city with no off-world transportation.
And ran by a group of black-market traders that would not hesitate to claim the bounties on us.
Once more, guilt flared through me at the thought of what likely awaited Tamryn should she make it there. But dwelling over the female’s fate was a waste of time and energy. I needed to assess my own situation. With my hyperalloy-reinforced skeleton, and the special wires that replaced my normal tendons to withstand the demands of that heavier skeletal structure, I needed a strong muscular mass to keep moving. That meant constant training to keep my strength up, but also a large amount of food to fuel those muscles. Five days of fasting and without water could seriously impede my chances of success.
And yet, I left all the water and energy bars for the female with little chances of survival.
It was unlike me to act in such an illogical fashion. And yet, I did not regret my decision. Just as that thought crossed my mind, a distant hum drew my attention. Using my acute vision, I stared ahead for a few seconds before detecting the tiny snitch flying overhead. I couldn’t decide if I felt annoyed or relieved. It didn’t surprise me in the least that someone had detected the landing of an escape pod onto a mercenary planet. The question was how many had been alerted to our presence? In a way, this could be good to the extent that it might spare me the long and painful walk back to civilization. I just hoped it wouldn’t be in shackles.
Acting inconspicuously, I bent down, as if to fix one of the latches on my boots, to pick up a few sharp flat stones. I slipped a couple into my pocket, and another inside the sleeve of my uniform while getting back up on my feet. I continued walking straight ahead, pretending not to be aware that I was being spied on. The snitch hovered high enough overhead that most normal species wouldn’t be able to see it. If not for both my enhanced vision and hearing, I would have been completely clueless.