A solar cycle had passed. Ghost prepared for another battle, bracing himself as the medic ship lowered to the stone landing pad his female had asked him to craft.
The fragile green vegetation of Mercury Minor swayed with the air circulation. The planet, now under cyborg protection, was gradually reviving.
Ghost and his female, as its only inhabitants, assisted in the recovery, clearing the debris, purifying the water, planting new vegetation. It was peaceful, solitary, safe.
Until now.
He scowled at the ship. The invasion was necessary but he disliked it.
“We’re safe.” His female patted his right arm. “They’re cyborgs, friends. All the males have their own females. Those females are here to help with this.” She rubbed her rounded belly. “Not to damage us.”
He gazed down at his female. Her golden hair streamed over her shoulders. The sun had darkened the pigment on her face and arms. Her eyes sparkled.
The last stages of offspring manufacturing had added more curves to her lush body.
She wore a shapeless garment similar to the one she’d worn on Deneb 9. The fabric was decorated with smiling planets and stars. That design was as impractical as the smiling vegetation.
But it made his female happy.
When she’d received the gift from Force’s female, she had laughed, then burst into tears, then laughed once more. He had hugged her, not knowing what else to do.
She had responded the same confusing way when he’d given her his boots to wear, her feet too swollen for her own footwear. Ghost dug his bare toes into the soil.
Manufacturing offspring had damaged his female’s emotional system.
He worried that the process would damage more critical systems. Those concerns about his female increased Ghost’s irritation over the impending cyborg invasion
Four warriors, along with their females, were arriving on the medic ship. They planned to assist his female.
They wouldn’t be needed.
“Help.” Ghost placed one of his palms on his female’s stomach.
He’d ensure she didn’t suffer additional damage.
“You believe you’ll help.” His female’s smile was gentle. “But you’ll try to protect me and—”
“Protect.” He frowned. He wouldn’t try to protect her. He would protect her.
Her lips twitched. “We’ve been over this. You know I can’t deliver naturally. Cyborg skulls have no yield to them. The females will have to open me up.”
The thought of anyone opening his female up made his processors overload.
“But I will have pain inhibitors and—”
“Protect,” he bellowed. She wouldn’t need any pain inhibitors because he wouldn’t allow anyone to damage her.
“Yes, yes, you’ll protect me. But you’ll do that from afar.” She said that as though he had agreed to it. He hadn’t. He wasn’t leaving her side. “This is a task for females. I—”
She winced. The muscles under Ghost’s palm violently contracted.
“Offspring.” Their offspring was damaging his female by moving.
Ghost crouched, pressed his ear against his female’s stomach.
Stay still, he transmitted to their offspring.
Their offspring grunted.
“Still.” He straightened. There shouldn’t be any more movement.
“Ghost.” His female placed her hands on his chest. “That wasn’t our offspring’s fault. I—”
“Stay.” He pushed his female behind him, widened his stance, held out his arms, blocking all access to her.
Rage was the first cyborg to approach them, the scarred C Model’s expression as grim and foreboding as Ghost’s. According to Ghost’s scans, Rage’s female followed him. She wasn’t visible but he smelled her. The warrior was as protective of his female as Ghost was of his.
The C Model stopped, positioned two arm’s lengths away from him. He gazed at Ghost, his face hard.
Ghost gazed back, not at all intimidated.
Silence stretched.
Ghost’s female pushed against his back.
He blew out his breath. “This.” He spread his arms, indicating their surroundings. “Thank you.”
When Ghost had requested that Mercury Minor be claimed as a cyborg planet, Rage had been one of the key supporters, rallying the other cyborgs to the cause.
Rage grunted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You gave me my world. I gave you this one.”
“World?” Ghost hadn’t met Rage before this planet rotation.
“My female is my world.” The C Model’s face flushed with pigment. “When you saved her, you saved me.”
“Sir?”
Ghost recognized that voice. It had been many solar cycles since he’d heard it but he was a cyborg. He would never forget it. “Ours.”
She’d been one of the females he’d been able to save.
“My female,” Rage corrected. “She’s a part of me. If you hadn’t—” His voice broke. The cyborg turned his head to the right.
Ghost grunted. The words weren’t necessary. He felt the same way about his own female.
“Sir?”
Rage stepped to the side. A brown-haired, stocky human female gazed up at Ghost. Tears filled her eyes. “C345925,” she whispered. “I still can’t believe it’s you.”
Ghost didn’t know what to say, her wonderment, her open admiration making him uncomfortable. She looked at him liked he was a hero and he wasn’t one. He had failed. Many times.
“It’s him.” His female volunteered from her position behind him. “Call him Ghost.” There was a pause. “He’s mine,” she added as though anyone would ever question that.
“Your male saved my lifespan, Lethe.” Rage’s female’s voice was watery.
“He does that.” His female sounded like she was suffering from emotional damage also.
“He could have been decommissioned for saving me yet he did it anyway.” A tear dripped down the cheek of Rage’s female. “If it wasn’t for him, I would have died. I would have never met Rage, wouldn’t have fallen in love, wouldn’t have two offspring. You saw their images.”
“They’re beautiful,” his female wailed.
The males were two standard C model cyborgs, unusual merely because they had no model numbers inked on their cheeks. Only his female saw beauty in them.
As she saw it in him.
“Mine.” He turned. The tears dripping off her jaw twisted his stomach. “Safe.” He pressed her face into his chest, holding her to him gingerly, conscious of her rounded belly.
Rage drew his female to his chest also. He met Ghost’s gaze over the females’ heads. The C Model appeared as bemused as Ghost felt.
He relaxed. The other cyborg safeguarded his female as closely as Ghost safeguarded his and he wasn’t concerned. Their females’ emotional settings must be within acceptable ranges for humans.
His female gripped his arm, pulling on his flight suit and then releasing the fabric.
“Ghost.” Her voice was high-pitched. “Can you show Rage what we’ve done with our domicile. I have to speak with Joan.”
“Mine.” He stepped back and studied his female. Her face was pale. Lines of strain etched her lips. “Damage?”
“No damage.” She summoned a smile.
“We can speak later.” Rage’s female’s tone was light. “We’re staying as long as you need us. Or until there’s another mock battle.” She laughed. “Rage rarely stays away from a fight.”
His female didn’t join in the mirth. “I need to speak with you now.” She turned to face the other female.
“Now.” Rage’s female’s eyes widened. “Oh. The offspring is—”
“In private,” his female yelled.
Was their offspring damaging her again? Ghost frowned. “I speak.” He’d tell her to stop.
“There’s no need to speak with our offspring.” His female stroked his arm. “If you want to speak with someone, contact the other cyborgs through your transmission lines. Joan and I are going to the medic ship. Safyre and the commander will be there. The males might wish to be elsewhere.”
“Go too.” He’d stay by her side.
“Please, Ghost.” She clasped his hands, looking up at him. Her eyes shone. “You know how I’ve been looking forward to speaking with the females.”
He did know and he couldn’t say ‘no’ to her, not when she was gazing at him that way, like he was her champion and she was depending on him to make her world right.
Ghost grunted, reluctantly agreeing with her plan.
“Thank you.” She smacked her lips against his, her kiss much too brief for his liking.
“Come on, mother-to-be.” Rage’s female wrapped her arm around his female’s shoulders and led her away from him. They chattered about his female’s oversized boots and the trip the cyborgs and their females had experienced, the two of them laughing and hugging each other.
He had to give them space, Ghost told himself. They would wish to speak about female things.
He watched them for one, two, three heartbeats.
No, he couldn’t do that. His female was too far from him. She might be in danger.
He surged forward.
And smacked against a body armor-covered chest.
“Move.” He glared at Rage.
“No.” The C Model grasped his shoulders. “You won’t help. I know. I’ve been through the offspring manufacturing process twice.” Pride tinged the male’s voice.
Those two previous processes hadn’t involved Ghost’s female. He pushed against the cyborg, dragging him across the terrain.
Then all his progress stopped. Ghost grunted. He couldn’t move Rage.
Because the other cyborgs had arrived.
“It took three warriors to pin Rage down the first time.” Crash, an E model, laughed. He leaned against Rage, adding his strength to the C model’s.
“Your turn is next.” Rage’s eyes blazed. “It will only take one warrior to pin you down—me.”
“It’ll take more than three warriors to pin Ghost down.” Ace, the K model who had freed him, declared. He also assisted Rage in blocking Ghost’s progress.
“Which is why we’re here.” Thrasher grinned, standing to the side.
“We’ve got this.” Rage, with Crash and Ace’s help, shoved Ghost backward.
Ghost lost his balance and fell on his ass. Before he could leap to his feet, the C model had jumped on his chest, pinning him across his body.
Ace and Thrasher sat on Rage’s back, using the cyborg like a chair.
Ghost struggled to free himself. He had to protect his female.
“There’s space for you to sit also.” Thrasher slid closer to Ace. Any other cyborg would feel uncomfortable with the touching. Ace smiled.
“Three is sufficient.” Crash stood to the side.
“Three isn’t sufficient.” Thrasher shook his head. “You saw what he did on that warship.” That footage had been shared with every cyborg. “It’ll take the four of us to hold him down.”
“He did disconnect his machine from his organic side,” Ace admitted. “That required strength.”
All the cyborgs nodded, even Rage looking impressed with that feat.
Ghost gritted his teeth, straining. His strength wasn’t enough. He remained captured. “Safe.” He had to keep his female safe.
His scans indicated his female was horizontal. She would be defenseless in that position.
“Rage’s female has been present at every offspring appearance.” Crash sounded sympathetic. “She will ensure both your female and your offspring are undamaged.”
“It’ll be over soon.” Ace said that as though Ghost’s concern was speed. “Your offspring is cyborg, not human. The process is fast.”
“Your offspring is also a C model,” Rage boasted. “He’ll be strong.”
“He won’t be all C model. Thank the stars.” Crash teased. “Rage’s offspring inherited their mother’s organic brain. That compensated for their father’s outdated processors.”
“Frag you,” Rage cursed.
“She,” Ghost muttered. “Female.”
There was a pause and they laughed.
“I told you he was damaged.” Thrasher gibed.
“There are no female offspring,” Ace explained. “We create males.”
His offspring was a female. Ghost fought to escape. If they didn’t know that was possible, they couldn’t know his female was safe.
The conversation turned to the training of offspring and then to battle. The chatter increased Ghost’s stress. His enhanced auditory system detected statements from the other females to remain still, to not look. His nostrils twitched. He smelled blood.
His female’s blood.
“Mine.” He beat Rage with his fists.
The C Model retaliated, pounding him into the ground. Flesh smacked against flesh. One of Rage’s large fists landed on his face. Ghost’s head snapped back and he tasted blood. They fought, inflicting non-lethal damage on each other.
It would have been satisfying except his female was in danger. Ghost rumbled with anger, his bottom lip split, his head spinning. He had to go to her, protect her.
“Ghost,” she shrieked, the fear in her voice shredding him.
“Mine,” Ghost bellowed. He heaved his body upward, using every bit of power he had.
The cyborgs were temporarily airborne.
He rolled out from under them, sprang to his feet, and ran.
“I told you.” Thrasher muttered, chasing after him. “Three was not enough.”
Ghost ripped off the door to the medic ship and rushed through the space, following his female’s scent.
“Quick. Finish closing her up and cover her.” Ace and Thrasher’s female commanded.
When he entered the chamber, the females scattered. Rage’s female held a suture gun. Crash’s female hid her hands behind her back, her flight suit stretching tightly across her belly. Ace and Thrasher’s female had speckles of blood on her uniform sleeves.
All of the females pressed their forms against the walls, giving him a clear view of his female, knowing to not get between him and the being he sought to protect.
A concealing cloth covered his female’s body. Her hair was damp. Her skin was flushed. Her eyes were bright.
She was alive. Relief flooded his senses.
His gaze lowered.
He stared, unable to process what his vision system was communicating. “Mine?”
“Meet our offspring, Ghost.” His female beamed, holding out a wriggling little being wrapped in a tiny concealing cloth. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Beautiful.” Stunned, he moved closer to them.
Their offspring had a mop of black hair, gray skin, no model number on her cheek. She looked up at him with brilliant blue eyes and the floor shifted under his feet.
He fell to his knees beside the sleeping support. “Ours.”
“Yes, ours.” His female glowed.
He touched their offspring’s hands. She wrapped her tiny fingers around one of his, held on, her grip cyborg tight, and he was captivated, the love in his big heart growing to encompass both of his females.
“Protect.” His voice was husky. He would trade his lifespan for theirs with no hesitation.
The other females in the chamber awwwed. The newly arrived males went to them, taking their females into their arms.
Ghost’s offspring grunted.
His female laughed. “She has your vocabulary.”
“She is a C model,” Crash teased.
Ghost looked at Rage, meeting his gaze. “Even.”
Any debt the cyborg thought he owed him had been settled.
“We will never be even.” Rage glanced at his own female, love reflecting in his eyes.
“This is getting too fucking sappy for me.” Crash’s female brushed her hands over her wet cheeks, the tuft of orange hair on top of her head waving. “I need to fly something and I hear our new mother has added a modified skimmer to her impressive ship collection. Who is with me?”
“I’m always with you, my Safyre.” Crash grinned.
“Then move your ass, my Crash, because I want the first choice of ships.” She marched out of the chamber.
“Your competition is Ace, Thrasher, and their female.” The E model followed her. “C Models aren’t skilled at flying.”
“Frag you,” Rage grumbled, bumping his female forward. The others streamed out of the chamber with them, leaving Ghost alone with his two females.
He gazed at them, his heart full. “Damaged?”
“I’m not feeling any pain.” His female smiled at him. “You?” She touched his split bottom lip.
“Cyborg.” The beating was a small price for such great joy.
She glanced down at their offspring. “I suspect I’ll be hearing that response often.”
The little female continued to hold onto Ghost’s finger. She blew bubbles with her mouth, looking up at him with an intelligence passed from cyborg to cyborg.
She was theirs.
His female had given him this gift. “I love you, Mine.”
“I love you too, Ghost.”
He saw that caring in her big brown eyes.
Their offspring grunted. His female laughed and Ghost beamed.
Those were happy sounds.
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Other Books by Cynthia Sax
Cyborg Sizzle Series
Refuge Series