Ten
Two shifts later, Lethe operated at a slower speed. She sorted through the garments in a supply chamber, searching for a flight suit that was large enough to fit her C Model cyborg. He stood by the door, his arms crossed, his bare feet braced, safeguarding her.
It wasn’t necessary. No being could board her warship without her knowing about it. But arguing with him wouldn’t change his mind so she concentrated on her task.
“Human males are small.” She held a garment up to his body. It didn’t span his wide shoulders.
“Human females smaller.” Ghost’s eyes glowed as he scanned her from her forehead to her booted feet, his gaze pausing on her lips, her breasts, her hips.
She wanted him. Again. And he wanted her, his cock hard. She liked having that physical reassurance of his desire. But they were communicating with the merchant ship this planet rotation and she preferred the two sisters not gawk at his fit physique.
“This should fit you. Barely.” She tossed a flight suit at him. The fabric was gray like his skin.
He caught it in one hand, his reflexes inhumanly fast. “Brown,” he insisted on that color.
“Do you prefer brown because it’s darker?” It would easier blend into the shadows.
“Match you. Others know Mine.” His possessiveness thrilled her.
“If you want to match me, you should wear blue.” She tugged on her chest covering. “My uniform is blue.”
“Eyes.”
He wanted to wear brown because it would match her eyes. Lethe doubted any other male had ever noticed that detail about her.
“It would take time to find a brown flight suit that large.” Her voice was gruff.
“Have time.” Ghost stuffed the gray garment into the refuse chute.
“You have time,” she muttered as she searched through the remaining garments, looking for a brown flight suit able to fit his massive body. “I’m the captain. I should be on the bridge.”
“Safe.” He was more confident than she was about their guidance system.
She grumbled while she worked. He watched her, not moving from his post by the doors. Her cyborg took his self-assigned role as her protector very seriously.
Lethe was starting to believe in him, depend on him, and that frightened her. She’d learned at fourteen solar cycles that she could only count on herself.
“Here.” She threw a brown flight suit at him. “This is the last one, so don’t rip it to shreds.”
He grunted. His muscles rippled as he donned the garment. “Small.” He wasn’t able to completely fasten the flight suit.
Lethe found the triangle of exposed chest…distracting. She tore her gaze away from it, looked up at his handsome face. “It will have to do.”
He twisted his torso to look behind him. The seams strained.
“Stop that.” She smacked his arm. “We’re not fighting the enemy. We’re having a short conversation with the crew of the merchant ship.”
His lips flattened.
“Come on.” Lethe scooted around him, placed one of her hands on the control panel. The doors opened. She strode out, heading toward the bridge.
Ghost kept pace with her, the warrior looking from left to right.
There was nothing to gaze at. The corridors were empty, the warship devoid of other life forms. “We need a crew.”
“No crew.” Her cyborg disagreed. “Not safe.”
“Yes, that is an issue.” Her lips twisted. “There’s a spy at Rebel headquarters. We couldn’t trust anyone they sent to us.” She thought about the situation. “I could contact beings individually.”
She’d met those beings during her training.
“No contacting beings.” Ghost didn’t like that idea either. “No need for crew.”
She’d prefer to have no crew also. “Much as I like staying on the bridge, being there all the time isn’t feasible.”
“No crew.”
Lethe stopped walking and gazed up at him. “Ghost—”
“Kill all,” he roared, his fingers clenched into fists, his entire body vibrating.
She stared at Ghost. Would he truly kill any new crew members?
Her first image of her primitive cyborg, covered in blood, surrounded by the pieces of the beings he killed, flashed through her mind.
A prudent captain wouldn’t test him.
“We don’t need a crew.” She decided, patting his chest.
He strapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off the floor and rubbed her curves over his muscles. She held onto his shoulders while he nuzzled against her curls, breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling against her.
“You’re wearing the last brown flight suit,” she reminded him, knowing he was three heartbeats away from tearing both of their garments off them and fucking her senseless against the wall. “And you’re not ruining my uniform.”
She’d worked hard to earn that garment, had traded the only thing she had to reach that first Rebel outpost.
Ghost paused, indecision etched across his face.
The wall panels opened and tiny cleaning bots rolled out, whirring and chirping. He set her down and turned, facing the machines, rumbling a warning.
The bots flashed their lights and backed up, beeping.
Ghost growled and stepped forward, stomping on the floor tiles with his bare feet.
“They won’t hurt you.” Lethe slipped her hand into one of his huge palms.
The sounds coming from her cyborg’s throat told her he disagreed.
“Ghost,” she barked, trying to distract him, knowing what fear could do to a being.
For solar cycles after the invasion, she jumped whenever there was a loud noise. She had to train herself not to respond.
He looked at her. “Mine.”
“Yes, yours.” Lethe suspected she would always be his, whether he remained by her side or not. “Escort me to the bridge.” She tugged on his hand.
Ghost allowed her to lead him away from the bots. His gaze didn’t leave the little machines until he turned a corner.
Then his shoulders lowered, her cyborg becoming calm once more.
He didn’t release her hand. They walked with their fingers linked, his stride shortened to match hers.
“Our next quest is to find you boots.”
“Free.”
“Being barefoot does feel freeing.” She smiled. Her male was all savage. “I’d often go barefoot on my hill outside the settlement on Mercury Minor. Nothing equals the sensation of dirt between your toes.” Her smile dimmed. “I hadn’t yet taken off my boots when the Humanoid Alliance invaded. Thankfully. The rubble would have sliced my feet to pieces.”
“Cyborg.”
He had the ability to self-heal. “Cyborgs still feel pain.” She shook her head. “I’ll find boots for you.” She’d take care of him.
They entered the bridge. Ghost had programmed their warship to mirror the movements of the merchant ship. Judging by the image on the main viewscreen, the two vessels had remained the designated distance apart.
“Systems check.” She sat in the captain’s chair, the same chair she’d shared with Ghost for shifts. It felt wrong to be sitting there by herself but they would be contacting the merchant ship and she was the captain. Captains didn’t sit on their first officers’ laps.
Instead, Ghost stood beside her, placing his hands on the embedded control panel. “Systems good. Manual navigation. Authorized?”
“Authorized.”
They ran through the usual checks, reviewed the sector around them. There was no unusual activity, no issues with the warship, no signs of any threats.
“We should hail the merchant ship.” She didn’t look at him. “They might offer you a role on their vessel.” She would do that if she was that ship’s captain. Ghost had skills no humans could equal. “My commander didn’t stop me from accepting my current role. I won’t stop you from accepting any role they extend to you.”
But he’d take a piece of her with him if he left her.
“Mine.” He covered her hand with his. “Always.”
Lethe found it difficult to believe in always. She’d watched normally loving beings fight for drops of liquid.
But she did understand about bartering, about having something another being wanted. “You’re staying with me because I smell right.”
And the other females smelled wrong. He could only touch her, fuck her, come with her.
“Smell like Mine.” He nodded.
“If you change your mind—”
“Processors, organic brain not change. Programming set.” Her cyborg took her words literally. “My female.”
She wished she had his certainty. “Hail the merchant ship.”
Ghost grunted.
The females’ faces were displayed on the main viewscreen. Ghost stepped closer to Lethe, his body lowering as though he prepared for an attack. He clearly considered them to be a threat.
Lethe squeezed his hand. The decision not to hire a crew had been the right one.
“Are there any issues with your ship, Captain Rhea?” she asked the eldest sister.
“It’s operating better than it has in solar cycles, Captain Lethe, thanks to Officer Ghost.” The female gave Ghost an honorary title Lethe suspected few cyborgs had.
“We want to speak with him privately,” Paloma, the youngest sister, blurted.
“Paloma.” Rhea looked at the girl. “We should talk to Captain Lethe about this first.”
“Why?” Paloma’s eyes flashed. “We know what she’ll say— ‘no.’ He’s a cyborg. Why would she give him up? And we can’t ask him in front of her. He’ll feel like he has to turn us down.” Lethe had been correct. They did plan to ask him to join their crew. “We have to get rid of her.”
Ghost growled at the girl.
Lethe recognized that sound. It was a warning. “Relax, cyborg. No one is getting rid of me.”
“We have to.” Paloma wouldn’t be quiet. “We can’t have the conversation with you here.”
Ghost raised the warship’s shields.
“What are you doing?” Lethe grew alarmed.
“Threat.”
Paloma opened her mouth. “I—”
“I’m putting you on mute.” Lethe silenced the girl before she provoked Ghost more. “There is no threat, cyborg. We discussed this. The sisters want you to join their crew. They prefer to make that offer in private.”
“Get rid of. Threat.” His jaw jutted.
“They want me to leave the room, not die.”
“Not leave.” He lifted her out of the captain’s chair, sat down, taking her place, and plunked her on his lap. “Stay in vision system. Always.”
He wrapped his arms around her.
“I won’t leave.” If she left, she doubted the merchant ship would remain whole for long. “I’ll stay in your vision system.”
Ghost didn’t say anything.
That was normal for her primitive cyborg. He didn’t talk unless he had something to say. She read his moods, his agreement or disagreement by his body language.
He gradually relaxed, his grip on her easing.
“Lower our shields,” she murmured. “I’ll speak with the girl.”
Ghost grunted and complied with her request.
Lethe unmuted the conversation. “Don’t say anything.”
The girl’s lips parted.
“I mean it.” Lethe held her gaze. “If you say the wrong thing, Ghost will blow up your ship. You saw that we raised our shields.”
Their systems should have indicated that.
Rhea nodded. Paloma stuck out her bottom lip.
“That wasn’t a warning. Cyborgs don’t give any of those before they act.” Lethe had learned that about her male. “I suspect you want to ask Ghost to join your crew. Is that correct?”
Paloma’s mouth dropped open. Rhea dipped her head again.
“This situation is my fault.” Lethe assumed full responsibility. That was what a leader did. “I wasn’t clear about our relationship. Ghost doesn’t protect me because I programmed him to do that. He protects me because he considers me to be his.”
“Mine.” Ghost rumbled, rubbing his cheek against hers.
“Rhea said something like that,” Paloma muttered, looking disgruntled. “But—”
“But you wanted to ask anyway.” Lethe thought it prudent for her to convey any explanations her cyborg might object to. “I would have asked for Ghost also.” She squeezed his fingers. “He’d be an asset to any ship’s crew.”
Ghost grunted.
“Thank you for understanding, Captain Lethe.” Rhea’s smile held genuine warmth. “Thank you for the repairs to our ship. And thank you for sharing about your family.”
Paloma’s belligerent stance softened.
“I suspect your family knew you loved them.” Rhea hugged the girl. “Paloma and I might argue. Noisily.” Her lips twitched. “But I never doubt she loves me. It doesn’t have to be spoken to be felt.”
Ghost mouthed over Lethe’s neck.
He didn’t say a word but she felt the caring in the action.
Lethe swallowed hard. “We will be changing course.” Unable to cope with more emotion, she abruptly changed the subject. “If you require assistance, contact us on this channel. It is secured.”
Ghost had ensured they could speak without fearing the Humanoid Alliance would overhear them. He constantly improved the warship’s systems.
“We will.” Rhea smiled. “Thank you, Captain Lethe, Officer Ghost.”
Rhea ended the communications. The sisters’ images disappeared, replaced by the blackness of space.
Lethe gazed at the distant stars, wondering why she had spent half her lifespan worrying about that last argument with her family.
Because Rhea was right. Lethe had never once questioned her family’s love for her. Why would they have questioned her love?
“They knew I loved them.” She wrapped Ghost’s arms tighter around her, wearing him like a comfortable garment. “My last words to them might have harsh.” She winced at that memory. “But they knew they were in my heart.”
Ghost grunted.
Her cyborg agreed. A lightness filled Lethe, the emotional burden she’d been carrying for far too long dissipating into nothing.
“Thank you for not blowing up the merchant ship.” She teased her protective male.
He huffed, his breath wafting against her skin. The fabric around his arms was pulled tight. That couldn’t be comfortable.
“You can remove the flight suit now.”
His reaction was instant, as though he’d been waiting for her command. He set her on the console and stripped the offensive garment off his big body. The fabric had left red lines on his gray skin, her cyborg having suffered that irritation in silence.
To make her happy.
Lethe removed her uniform also, placed the garment on the surface beside her. The cool air swept over her skin. The freedom increased her joy.
Ghost watched her, his muscles flexed, his cock hard. There was an exciting gleam in his eyes. He desired her again, still.
“Do you want to breed?” She used his word.
“Hold you.” Ghost sank back into the captain’s chair. The seat creaked under his weight, a sound of protest. Her cyborg wasn’t a small male.
He pulled her onto his lap. Her skin touched his, relief rushed through Lethe, and they both exhaled noisily, their reaction in sync.
She smiled. “I want to be held.”
He cupped her face and pressed it against his chest. His warmth, his strength surrounded her, a sanctuary made of muscle and metal.
“We’re alone once more.” That felt natural, right.
“Safe.” Ghost said the other word she was thinking. When they were alone, there were no secrets to be kept, no enemies to battle, no judgments to fear.
She knew his past and he knew hers and they accepted each other.
It wasn’t love. She vaguely remembered the looks of devotion her father and mother had exchanged when they thought no one was watching.
But this peace, this serenity, this ease was something she’d never experienced with another being. Lethe spread her fingers over Ghost’s skin, trying to touch more of him.
She would treasure this for as long as it lasted.