Baring Grudge

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Baring Grudge Page 7

by Cynthia Sax


  “I can learn more from you.” The kid’s tone held a heart-wrenching hope she would have to quash. “I don’t have to train with anyone else right now.”

  Taelyn stifled a sigh. There was so much she wanted to teach the girl. She hadn’t the time to transfer all that knowledge, but she could leave her with a few more skills.

  “Sit closer to the console.” She slowed the ship, decreasing the danger level of the upcoming lesson. “Place your hands on the controls in front of you.”

  The kid smacked her palms against the panel. Hard.

  “Be gentle.” Taelyn cringed. “Flying a ship is a delicate task. You can’t be rough with your vessel.”

  “I’m flying the ship?” The girl’s eyes widened.

  Taelyn nodded. “You’ll be the pilot for this stretch of the journey.”

  There was nothing around them. They had plenty of space for errors. All Jasny had to do was guide the ship forward.

  Taelyn wanted to share this first experience with her. Maybe the kid would remember her fondly after she was gone.

  “Kutta takes on more missions than I do.” She sought to increase the girl’s interest in her new mentor. “She’ll expect you to be familiar with a ship’s navigation system.”

  “You’ll let me fly.” The kid’s slender form vibrated with excitement. “What do I do now?”

  Taelyn walked her through the process, correcting her hand placement when that was necessary, drilling her on the steps.

  Then she sat back and watched the girl fly.

  Slowly. Very slowly.

  It was boring as fuck. But the kid was having the time of her lifespan. A rare smile lit her face.

  Stars. Taelyn would miss moments like this.

  She wouldn’t have a long duration to pine over that loss. Soon, she’d be dead, and all her experiences, the good, the bad, the boring, would be over.

  Her handheld gyrated in her lap. She caught it before it hit the floor.

  Your Warrior: I’m taking one of the warships, will rendezvous with you in six planet rotations.

  What the fuck? She straightened in her chair, responded as quickly as she could.

  My Female: You said you’d give me forty planet rotations. Why are you rendezvousing with me before our agreed upon time?

  The damn cyborg was reneging on their deal. She had been a fool to trust him.

  Your Warrior: Your ship is under duress, my fragile enhanced human. Its speed has decreased by 84.2536 percent.

  The male was tracking them. She reached into one of her holsters, extracted the device he’d given her. It remained shattered, wasn’t functional.

  My Female: The kid is flying the ship. Where did you plant the other tracking devices, cyborg?

  He must have stowed more of them either on her ship or on her. She searched her holsters and sheaths, the folds in her leather garments.

  Your Warrior: You didn’t answer your messages.

  She read the anger, the frustration, the concern in those words, and she didn’t understand it.

  They were enemies. He planned to kill her.

  My Female: Answering messages wasn’t part of our deal.

  She never agreed to do that.

  Your Warrior: It is part of our deal now.

  She pursed her lips. The male wouldn’t allow her to escape him.

  Finding the other tracking devices would give her a bit of leverage over him. She stood, determined to search the ship from front to back.

  “You’re leaving me?” Jasny squeaked. The girl’s face turned a lighter shade of green. Her lips puckered.

  She looked like she was going to puke.

  Fuck. Taelyn sat back down with a thump.

  Searching the ship would have to wait until the flying lesson was over.

  “I’m not leaving you.” She reassured the kid. “Relay the ship’s readings and tell me why they’re important.”

  She listened as Jasny chattered.

  Your Warrior: The offspring isn’t skilled at flying. She’s veering from your previous trajectory.

  Taelyn had noticed that. She didn’t have the heart to dampen Jasny’s joy.

  My Female: If you tell her she isn’t skilled at flying, I’ll kick your ass, cyborg.

  She had zero tolerance with anyone fuckin’ with the kid’s already ravaged self-esteem.

  My Female: I’ll correct our course later. And I WILL find your tracking devices.

  She would make that a mission of hers, wouldn’t stop until she’d located them.

  Your Warrior: I’m hard for you, my female.

  She snorted. The male was insatiable.

  “You’re laughing at me.” The kid misinterpreted the noise. “Fuck this.” She lifted her hands from the controls. “I won’t be—”

  “Put your hands back on the controls, pilot.” Taelyn barked that order, seeking to stop the girl’s meltdown. “If this was landing or takeoff, you would have killed both of us.”

  Jasny hastily did as she was told.

  “You’re in control of this ship.” She frowned at the kid. “No one else is flying it. You’re responsible for the safety of the vessel and everyone on board it.” Taelyn stressed the importance of the role, hoping to build the girl’s confidence. “You can’t allow distractions, such as my laughter at an idiotic message I received from a malfunctioning warrior, divert you from that key task. I’m counting on you to convey me to my destination in one piece. Got that?”

  The girl gulped air. “I got that.”

  Moments passed.

  “I’m in control of this ship.” Jasny whispered that truth. Her chin lifted. “Me. Not anyone else.” Pride shone from her eyes. “I’m responsible for everyone on board.”

  The kid would be a badass once she had proper training, developed her skills.

  Taelyn’s heart squeezed. She wished she could live to see that.

  “Beings will laugh at you.” Fuck. She knew all about the mocking. “That’s a weapon others will wield to hurt you, to throw you off your mission. We’re fuckin’ warriors, kid. We have to expect those attacks, should see them for what they are—an attempt to stop us. Do we let them do that?”

  “No.” The kid’s voice was soft. Her tone relayed she was unconvinced, was doubting herself again.

  “What did you say?” Taelyn acted like she hadn’t heard her.

  “No.” The kid yelled, her conviction strengthening.

  “That’s right.” Taelyn nodded. “And why don’t we let them stop us?”

  “Because we’re fuckin’ warriors.” Jasny shouted that reply, stressing the profanity.

  Taelyn should quash the cussing. Medic Neidan wouldn’t approve of it. But the focus, at the moment, was the girl’s self-esteem, not her language.

  “We’re fuckin’ warriors.” Her lips twitched. The damn cyborg would likely make a crack about her fucking one warrior—him. “We’re entering the Antares sector.” They were creeping closer to home. “Tell me what you know about it.”

  The kid relayed all she knew, which was not damn much, as she flew the freighter.

  Taelyn glanced down at her handheld. She shouldn’t respond to the cyborg, shouldn’t encourage him.

  But she couldn’t not read his messages. She had to know what he had said. Her curiosity allowed her no other course of action.

  Plus the blasted warrior turned her on. Tremendously.

  He might be her killer, would be the last face she saw before she died.

  But he might also sport the last dick she’d ride, could be her final fuck. She wanted to experience that closeness, that physical connection with another being one more time before her lifespan ended.

  She suspected he’d tilt her universe. Again.

  Her pussy clenched around nothing.

  Her decision was made. She inputted her four-word response.

  My Female: I’m wet for you.

  The damn cyborg must have been waiting for her communication. His reply was immediate.

  Your War
rior: How?

  The question could be how wet was she. The answer to that was dripping wet. The leather between her legs was soaked.

  But she would bet her best dagger he was asking something else.

  She’d give him that something else.

  My Female: You’re lying on your back completely naked. I’m also naked and riding you. Hard. Your hands are on my breasts. My curves are soft and supple against your big, rough palms. My ass is slapping against your upper thighs. My wetness streams between your balls. I’m hot and tight and all around you.

  It felt wrong to be communicating with her cyborg in this way with the kid sitting right beside her. Taelyn glanced at the girl. Medic Neidan wouldn’t approve of that either, would call her a shitty mentor.

  That might be the truth. But Jasny was fully focused on steering the ship slowly forward, couldn’t see the handheld screen, was unaware of the communications. The kid wouldn’t allow her to have any privacy, followed her everywhere.

  And Taelyn had needs. Damn it.

  She was a female in her prime, had been solitary for too long, enjoyed fucking as much as she savored fighting.

  Grudge indulged both of those desires. She swore she’d surrender to him, and she would do exactly that. But she suspected their sexual encounters before he killed her would be as passionate as any battle. He would test her and she would test him. They—

  The handheld hummed.

  She looked down at it.

  Your Warrior: Tell me more.

  Her lips lifted into a small smile.

  She’d tell him much more. The cyborg would add additional entries to his breeding databases this planet rotation.

  Chapter Seven

  Grudge hadn’t seen his female for 15 planet rotations and 1.2536 shifts. He sat in the control chamber of the Humanoid Alliance space station and watched the signals from her two remaining tracking devices on the main viewscreen. She had located and disabled the others.

  Those tracking devices were now situated on Antares II, a tiny planet noteworthy only for hosting a beautiful and spirited enhanced human female he couldn’t live without. Her ship hadn’t moved from those coordinates over the past 2 planet rotations and 0.2545 shifts.

  She hadn’t discarded the freighter. Her communications originated mere steps away from it and she replied every few moments to the messages he sent her. He leaned forward. His tech-inept female must not process he could follow her through those interactions.

  Not being a complete fool, he would keep that information to himself. He didn’t want her to stop sharing her insights with him.

  Her scent flavored the air in the chamber. He had set her deactivated explosives all around him, decorating the space with their pretty designs. Footage from their breeding session flowed through his processors. Her messages had been saved in his databases.

  That had kept him semi-functional during their physical separation.

  Needing to read her current thoughts, seeking the reassurance that gave him, he sent her a communication.

  Your Warrior: What are your plans for this shift?

  He had none. There was very little to do. He’d improved the systems on her freighter and in the space station, had jettisoned thousands of robots. His training had been completed for the shift. He’d run along the hallways of the space station, visually verifying the monitoring systems’ outputs.

  My Female: My plans are none of your fuckin’ concern, cyborg.

  He grinned. His little enhanced human would never be an easy being to be with.

  But he didn’t want an easy companion. He craved a challenge, someone who would make him work for every win, a being who wouldn’t decrease the difficulty of tasks because she perceived he was permanently damaged.

  His female would never offer him pity. Her combative stance hadn’t altered after she’d viewed his purely mechanical arm and leg. She had perceived him as being the same threat to her after that revelation as she had perceived him before it. His Taelyn would always push him to prove himself.

  He replied to her message.

  Your Warrior: I do have a fuckin’ concern. I’m concerned my fragile enhanced human wouldn’t be capable of this breeding position.

  He sent her the specs on it, having modified the references specifically for his female. The breeding variation required her to link her ankles behind his head and lift her lush ass into the air, impaling herself on his cock.

  My Female: Fuck you. I’m capable of anything.

  He chuckled, not doubting her words. She was a force. And—

  The monitoring systems flashed. A ship had entered the extended range.

  It could be hostile, could be the Humanoid Alliance intent on reclaiming their structure.

  That would be entertaining.

  Grudge scanned the area around the space station for movement, located the disturbance, enlarged that image.

  He was incorrect. Three ships had entered it.

  The vessel in the lead was Cadet’s dented modified freighter. It was distinctive. There was no other ship like it.

  The space station wasn’t under attack. His shoulders lowered and tension whooshed out of him.

  His brethren had finally returned.

  He authorized the docking bay doors to open and jumped to his booted feet. The tedium of the planet rotations spent alone had finally ended. He strode out of the chamber, along the hallways, his circuits lit up with excitement. Soon he would have company, would see Rancor, Cadet, B, the other cyborgs again.

  One of those warriors could assume his role. He would gain permission from their leader to leave the space station, and he would retrieve his female. His fingers twitched. He would hunt his little enhanced human down, would touch her, claim her, never let her go.

  Convincing his Taelyn to accept him as her warrior would be a test of wills. A grin spread across Grudge’s face as he projected that upcoming confrontation. His beautiful thief had agreed to surrender a little too quickly not to have a plan to circumvent her capture.

  The ships were landing as he entered the docking bay. The engines quieted. The doors opened. Ramps extended.

  Rancor was the first warrior to exit the modified freighter. His guns were drawn. He scanned the space as he descended.

  “If you’re seeking a battle, I’ll give you one, D Model.” Grudge lowered his hands to his holstered guns. “I haven’t fought anyone for fifteen planet rotations and am yearning for the exercise.”

  “Your processors are malfunctioning, C Model.” His friend laughed, lowering his guns. “We were gone for thirty-six planet rotations. That would have been shorter if we had flown a warship back.”

  “Warships couldn’t hold the number of pilots we needed.” Cadet stomped down the ramp. “The space station appears to be still functional.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Though more battle robots are circling it.”

  “It isn’t the only space station the Humanoid Alliance manufactured.” Grudge slapped Rancor’s right shoulder. He missed his friends. “I gained confirmation of that fact while you were gone.”

  “Tell me you covered your trail while you were digging around in their databases.” Cadet pointed to warships, directing their brethren to the vessels. “If the Humanoid Alliance traces that activity back here, there is a 97.1258 percent probability they’ll send ships to investigate it.”

  He hadn’t been digging around in their databases, but he had been communicating with his enhanced human. “Contrary to Rancor’s projections, my processors aren’t malfunctioning.” Grudge shook his head. “All of my trails were covered.”

  “All of your trails. Plural.” Cadet narrowed her eyes at him. Their leader missed very little. “What do I need to process, warrior?”

  Grudge wouldn’t hide the truth from her.

  “A thief entered the space station while you were gone, stole medic packs and small devices from two hundred and sixty-two warships, and tried to blow the structure up.” He summed up the situation in one sentence. “This i
sn’t the first space station she has targeted.”

  “Fraggin’ hole.” Rancor’s mouth dropped open. “I missed some fun.”

  “You broke three speed records and almost collided with a comet.” B lumbered past them, his arms and legs creaking as he moved. “You had sufficient fun, D Model.”

  Cadet studied Grudge. “Was there anything left of this thief after you’d interrogated her?”

  “She left with the same parts she arrived with.” He paused. His female had been modified, however. “She now hosts my nanocybotics.”

  “You met your female.” Rancor stared at him. “What was she flying?”

  “A XCG4859 Fomalhaut single-pilot freighter.” He supplied that information to his ship-obsessed friend. “It was in poor repair.”

  “Ugh.” The D Model grimaced. “I envy you the female but not the ship.”

  He, a permanently damaged C Model, was the source of envy. Grudge stood straighter. Not every warrior would meet their female. He was fortunate to have done so.

  “The thief is Ours.” Cadet pinched the bridge of her nose. Ours was her designation for the genetic matches of cyborg warriors. “Because, of course she is.” Their leader met his gaze once more. “She processes we have commandeered the space station. And you allowed her to leave. She could be selling that information to other beings as we stand here, relaying information.”

  “My female believes I am under the Humanoid Alliance’s control.” His presence wouldn’t be the reason others sought to enter the space station. “I didn’t correct that faulty reasoning.”

  “The Humanoid Alliance, if they are contacted by your female, will process that reasoning is faulty. They’ll process you’re not under their control.” Cadet’s concerns didn’t ease. “We have to accelerate the transport of the warships.”

  She gazed around them.

  Warriors were running diagnostics on the vessels, patting the panels, inspecting their exteriors, ensuring they were fit to fly. The flurry of activity after the long duration of inertia excited Grudge.

  “We won’t stagger the departures.” Cadet made that decision. “More ships will enter the cyborg sector during the same time interval, and that will increase the risk of being detected by the arrogant ass, but it has to be done. The enemy could be en route to the space station at this very moment.”

 

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