***

HALF A CYCLE PASSED as he kept Elodie safe with him in the mechanics’ breakroom.

Chesnik had returned several times throughout but he was never allowed to stay long, regardless, it hadn’t deterred the man from trying. Eventually, Gunner let him see his daughter but only for a small reprieve.

Gunner left her sleeping within, now comfortable in an array of forged supplies, as he made his way back to the main passageways, back toward the brig where the others were now free. The familiar pungent scent of the prisoners gradually replaced the acrid rust and the humidity of steam rising from the machines.

But every step away from Ely was difficult, as if there was a noose tight around his neck—or his heart—and she held onto the other end.

Gunner stepped through the latch and familiar men—now equipped with guns—were stationed on the other side.

He closed the door and jammed the locking mechanism. No one was going to be getting in and out without his knowledge.

“Any news?” He approached the first.

“Besides the abrupt warp jump that most of us miraculously survived, not much in the news front. We’re locked down here in the underbelly. The pirates have the second and presumably the third level elevator on lockdown. Every live man we’ve sent up has come back down to us as a bullet-ridden corpse.”

“How many casualties?”

“One man broke his neck during the warp. We think he was asleep when it happened and didn’t have time to hang on to something. The rest,” the prisoner shrugged with exhaustion, “killed. There’s fourteen of us left but several refuse to fight and they remain in the brig like frightened cattle. Fucking cowards. Those idiots think we’ll all die regardless and there’s no point in trying to fight for freedom. I mean, they don’t even want to fight for food! But how can you blame them? I guess fear sucks the soul out of some people.”

Gunner nodded. He knew what fear could do better than anyone. Mixing fear with uncertainty, and adding a dash of anxiety, was a cocktail for a crash-and-burn of the worst kind. The fact that Elodie was able to sleep for more than an hour at a time made him a grateful beast.

“And what about you? Are you willing to fight when the stench gets thick?” he asked, curious.

“Like it isn’t already? I’ll be fighting. Freedom tastes good, even if it’s a lie. Either way, I won’t be dying on an empty stomach or cowering in the dark if it comes down to that. I’ll die on my feet before I go back on my knees.”

Gunner gripped the man’s shoulder. “Good.” He left him to find the others.

It didn’t take him long before he found Chesnik. He was sitting behind several makeshift barricades near the elevator. Gunner’s gaze moved up to where the door was currently jammed open by a metal crate.

Below it and scattered on the floor were broken androids and bloodstains that ended with no bodies attached. He rubbed the back of his neck. No carrion for him to be distracted by.

His target was fiddling with a gun but stopped when he neared.

“News?”

“Ely?” Chesnik shot back.

Gunner moved closer and lowered his voice. “She’s fine. Sleeping if you should know, and healing. She’s in better conditions now than she has been in weeks. Probably years.” He would almost call what he created for her a nest, but no man was privy to his inner thoughts.

“Go fuck yourself, Cyborg,” Chesnik sneered.

“Why?” he goaded unfairly.

Chesnik stared at him with hatred. “You know why.”

“I have some suspicions...”

“You're using her!”

Gunner made a loud noise to cover the outburst and he was at Chesnik’s side in the next second, whispering, “Elodie is a woman. An adult I may add. She can make her own choices and she chose me.”

Chesnik chuckled with self-deprecation. “Under duress. What do you think this situation is? We could die at any time, or we could be overrun and be made into slaves. Neither option is comforting. None of her choices, or anyone's for that matter, are sound.”

The plates in his jaw demanded to shift to reveal his jackal in its dark profile. There was nobody in the universe that would talk to him like this without fear of death—death he would gladly give. Except Chesnik, apparently. The man knew he was untouchable, because of Elodie and the deal they had between them.

Gunner narrowed his eyes and took in his mate’s father. Maybe he knows what I really want. He’s afraid I’ll take her away from him. He clicked his tongue and the blood that frenzied his veins forcibly cooled down. He should be.

“You have little faith in your daughter,” his voice darkened the man’s ear. “She’s followed you her whole life because of love? Maybe? Misguided trust? If anyone is wrong in their fucking head, it’s you. Do you really think I’m coercing her?” His laugh was strained and quiet. “I’m the fucker bending to her will. For once, your daughter has a little control over her life. Let her have it.” Gunner wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and took a half step back.

“Then what’s her will? And don’t spew me yours in hopes I’ll buy it. Your words might be pretty but I know her better than that.”

“Saving you,” Gunner spat and waved at him. “And saving the others. Pretty much doing what I can to ensure you guys live, that you don’t make it to the slave rings or the flesh stalls, and to get you off this ship.”

There was a moment of silence while Chesnik held his ground and looked into his eyes. “Sounds like her,” he eventually said. “The one thing I couldn’t get out of her head, even after all these years, was thinking about others.” Chesnik sighed. “She’s a lot like her mother in that way.” His voice was wistful before it hardened anew. “What was her trade, Cyborg? I know you’re using her—”

“—I’m not using her.”

“Using her. But the price of a Cyborg is well beyond that. No one person can afford you. No one like her, or me, or anyone else on this ship except maybe the captain. Usually, only planetary governments can hire a Cyborg, and even then it hurts. What are you taking from my daughter?”

Everything.

He was going to take everything that he could from her, everything that she allowed him to have. It started with her voice and a bargain for her companionship, he had taken her name and then he had stolen her touches and her kisses. Elodie then gave him her body and he had given her a window into his head, into which she had looked and hadn’t flinched away.

I would give her my soul. Gunner clenched his hands at his sides as the thought brought on a numbing shock.

If she reached out and took it, he would let her have it. She would keep it safe and in turn, he would protect her from the horrors of the universe and the despairing thoughts of hell, because loneliness was hell. And they had both been so alone for so long.

Her everything and my everything are different. The thought didn't make him feel good, and for the first time since he could remember, bile rose in his throat.

“Ask her yourself,” he gritted out.

Chesnik kept talking as if he didn't know Gunner was about to lose his mind. “I would if you’d let me speak to her alone.”

“No. Fucking. Way.” No way was he going to let Chesnik get back into her head. Not if he could help it. “If you’re so dead set on saving her from me and the choices she made, I’m not with her now. I won’t stop you. Try and get to her.” Gunner cocked his head in the direction where the jammed door was located.

A vein looked like it was about to pop over Chesnik’s brow. The wrinkles on around his eyes grew deeper by the second.

“You and I both know I wouldn’t get very far,” he accused.

Gunner took another step back, further unblocking the man’s way. His jaw ticked. “Won’t you even try?”

“No.”

Once again anger simmered Gunner’s blood. “You don’t trust me. Or her. And you won’t even try...”

“I know she’s safe.”

Gunner snorted with derision. “From everyone but me that is. When you see her next, because there will be a next, tell her that. I dare you.”

The enmity between them was palpable but short-sighted. A banging noise beside Gunner had him turning away. The elevator door shook the crate as it tried to close. It then slid back into the panel before trying again with another bang. It continued to rattle when Chesnik broke the silence at his side.

“You’re not holding up your end of the bargain well. I’ll be telling her that. Some of us died as you holed up and used her.”

The man really does have a death wish. He wondered if it was to punish his daughter for choosing him over her own father. It was more reason not to hurt or kill the man. Gunner wasn't going to give Chesnik the satisfaction.

“You mean the men in the brig, the ones you left to die earlier?” Gunner snapped. “I can’t control people like I can machines. If they get themselves killed because they think they know better than I do, then they’re idiots I couldn’t save to begin with.”

“Why wait until now?”

“To give the crew upstairs some time to stew, and to come up with a plan that wasn’t rushed from the heat of battle. To let the unrest congeal and solidify and to give everyone down here a chance to regroup, to eat, and to heal. I’m trying to give everyone the best chance possible to survive. We’re no longer in Andromeda, which means they have a destination in mind and one I’m very curious about. The captain didn’t need to warp us if we were still headed to Elyria, but he did. So what does that mean?”

“I don’t understand? Why don’t you think we’re not headed to Elyria anymore? He could warp and stay within the same galaxy, even the same solar system.”

Gunner rubbed his lips and turned from the elevator to look back at Chesnik.

“Because that was where we were headed from the get-go. The warp is a power sap, to do so to make it to a nearby location slightly faster isn’t done lightly. I know something about meetups and drop-offs and Elyria is ripe with them. Timing is important. He’s either sped it up...or ditched it entirely, either of which would destroy his reputation in the system. A man who can’t deliver is a man not worth permitting to live. If we’re not headed there, that means something has changed. Whether it’s with the crew or with the captain, something changed. What that change is? I don’t know, but I think it’s time for us to find out.”

***

ENERGY COURSED THROUGH Gunner as he made his way back to Elodie. He’d only left her for an hour but it felt like an eternity to him.

His hand settled on his chest, over his heart, where it beat heavy under his still healing thumb. He realized it was the first time he had ever paid attention to it.

The machines clanked on all sides, energy and power fueled them, fueled him. Though his plans were now in motion, the organ under his palm drummed steadily.

Gunner came upon his mate sleeping in the back room—in their nest—right where he’d left her. Elodie was in the throes of slumber as he kneeled at her side. Her cobbled-together distress beacon was laid out next to her.

Whether it could be repaired or not was still up in the air, but he had been impressed with her single-minded fortitude. Her fingers still clutched it to her side, as if she worked on it in her sleep, and when he touched the metal of her gadget himself he could feel the pieces conduct under his fingertips.

She’ll have it working soon. He could help her repair it, he knew, but he wasn’t good with rebuilding machines because he lacked patience. His lavatory-turned-brewery was a testament to its lack. It was a steampunk nightmare in bathroom form.

Gunner brushed the hair from her face. He meant to wake her but now he couldn’t. Elodie was all his when she was asleep. She was content. At peace.

Elodie’s eyelids fluttered. Dreaming. Gunner quietly lay down next to her and feathered his fingers over her temple.

Dirty. Now only one of us is dirty. His hand stilled.

‘Why wait until now?’ Chesnik’s question repeated itself. He had many answers for it, depending who asked, but the real answer plagued him.

I want her to fall in love with me before she has a chance to leave.

I’m a selfish fucking bastard.

All he really wanted to do was use what time remained for his own desires. He didn’t care about the others, the captain or the freighter ship, and he could still leave at any time.

Right now, he could light the vessel ablaze and make his escape. He could leave in an escape pod and contact the EPED and let the thumb-tip that was still buried in this ship be a tracker for him to find later and meet up with Stryker.

He could leave his only lead to his own ship’s whereabouts, but if he did that, Elodie and Chesnik and the others would get hurt. Although he could lead them to the escape pods himself, it would mean he would have to split up with Elodie. It wasn’t like he could tether his escape pod to hers. And if she got hurt...

If her escape pod malfunctioned...

Gunner ran his pointer finger over the hook of her ear, across her forehead, and down the bridge of her nose. He traced the outline of her face in an effort to memorize every detail. He couldn’t take that chance. Jackals mate for life.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. She mumbled and swatted his hand. Gunner slipped closer until her breath fanned his face.

Fall in love with me, Elodie.

Let me keep you.