***

ELODIE FOUND HERSELF in another cell. It seemed to be a theme.

Not long after the soldiers boarded the pirate ship, she and Gunner had been cuffed and carted off. A day had gone by since then and she’d been left alone in a small room with nothing but silence to pass the time.

The biggest difference, though, was that this cell had solid walls on every side except for the opening. That aspect, despite all that had happened, hadn’t changed.

There were a few other notable differences. She was clean, she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, there was a soft cot and a toilet, and she received regular meals throughout the cycle. No one bothered her, and it was beginning to drive her crazy.

She paced the small space inside. Her confinement would’ve been easier if she knew what had happened to Gunner and her dad.

Countless men had flooded the hallways of the pirate ship, boarded from elsewhere, and they had neutralized everything within. That’s where they had found her and Gunner, and the rest of the men from the brig that had not made it into the escape pods.

Her fingers touched the healing bruise on her arm. The throbbing ache of it had already begun to fade.

The soldiers had taken her away from Gunner and brought her to the medical bay on one of the ships of the small armada that had come to their rescue. She’d seen some of the other prisoners from the brig throughout, but for the most part, they’d been kept separate from each other.

The quiet man who had been in the unit across from her was alive though. And she hoped, in some way, she had helped make that happen.

Gunner made that happen. She buried her face into her hands and thanked the stars that it had been the Peace Keepers that had picked up on the distress signal, and no one else. Elodie tensed and released her muscles, hoping—mentally screaming—that Gunner was okay. She hadn’t seen him since their capture. Maybe they realized these cells couldn’t hold him and took him somewhere more secure.

Her eyes darted around her cell, over the creature comforts that she now had. Her life could’ve ended up so differently.

She touched the walls and the contraptions, feeling the gears and then feeling herself just to reassure that this wasn’t all a dream. That she wasn’t just about to wake up and be back among the smoke and men; returned to her cell on the pirate ship.

Elodie knew when she dreamed; dreams were in sepia, not white, like the room she was in. But she couldn’t stop clenching the bedding in her hands and feeling the smooth walls to save her life.

She knew her sleep would be haunted by her time aboard the pirate ship; the recruitments, the beatings, the fear. But it gave her hope that Gunner was also in her dreams.

Her Cyborg with sharp ears and sharp teeth.

“Hello?” Elodie called out after pulling her hand away from the wall. No answer. Hours had gone by with no answer.

She moved to the bars and gripped them. There was a small hallway leading from her cell, white and crisp, clean and gleaming, and there was a door several yards away that remained shut.

The soldiers didn’t know yet whether or not she was part of the pirate crew. She couldn’t blame them for being careful. Those that could vouch for her were also under suspicion, probably being held somewhere else. Maybe they kept the women in separate cells from the men.

Elodie released the bars and cupped the back of her neck, kneading the strain from her muscles.

Suddenly, the door opened, and she dropped her arms. Please let it be Gunner.

An unfamiliar man in a dapper black suit entered the space. Buttoned and ranked. The proof was on his jacket lapels. All the soldiers on this ship looked the same. They blurred together with their stiff, tailored clothing, and their regulation shaved heads.

“Elodie?” he asked, approaching her.

She cleared her throat and nodded. “Yes. Is Gunner okay?” she blurted out. “Have you found the escape pods that shot out of the pirate ship? Why am I being held? Where are the others? Please, tell me if Gunner is okay...”

The man continued on as if her questions had never been asked. “Have you, at any time, been in cohorts or affiliated with Captain Juke’s crew?”

“No... Never except for my dad. I was forced onboard and locked up in the brig.”

He looked at her steadily with a face she couldn’t read. It was handsome even in its coldness, but it didn’t have guns on its cheeks so it meant nothing to her.

“Have you, at any time, remained loyal or connected to someone who joined his crew after your arrival?”

Elodie rubbed her hands. “Yes.”

“Who?”

“My dad, Chesnik. We were brought aboard together and after several weeks of incarceration, he accepted recruitment.” Her mouth dried up as she said it. Was she saying too much?

“And did you remain in contact with him after he joined Juke’s crew?”

Elodie licked her lips. “He released me from the brig... He and Gunner released everyone from the brig,” she added, dryly.

“As you say. Would you be able to recognize those among the prisoners from those prisoners who had accepted recruitment after being captured?”

“I might be able to, but I’m not sure. I kept my head down most the time. It was safer for me that way.”

“But if you saw them, would you recognize, or at least try to recognize those who worked for Juke and his affiliated organization and distinguish between them and those who escaped with you?”

She paused. “Yes, some I would know. Does that mean I’ll get to see them?” She didn’t want to see them but it was her best chance of knowing whether her dad had been captured. Gunner wouldn’t be among them, not with his history working for the government, but the possibility of it filled her heart with fleeting hope.

“In time.” The suited man turned to leave.

Elodie gripped the bars. “Wait! Please! Please wait,” she begged, her voice hitching. When he stopped and turned back to face her, she could’ve cried. “What happened?” Elodie swallowed. “We were...escaping, and suddenly the ship was off kilter and Gunner had to...get to the bridge to stop it.” She closed her eyes briefly as his bloody body came into view. “Is he okay?” Not knowing was slowly killing her inside. “Anything, please just tell me anything. I can’t stand the silence,” she shook her head. “There’s been too much noise in my head for far too long.”

“Elodie,” he eventually said. “How long have you been in space?”

“My whole life,” she answered quickly.

His eyes crinkled and he nodded. Sadness. Pity. She didn’t know.

“Why?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t bother with a man like him.” He was talking about Gunner. “The smartest thing you can do, when this is all over, is to go back to Earth or one of the other colonies, and try to forget any of this happened.”

She wiped her cheeks, not realizing they were covered in her tears. “I can’t.”

His face softened.

“You don’t understand. I can’t. He’s my friend,” her words hitched. “I love him. It doesn’t make sense.” She dried her face. “I know, but I need to tell him that. I need to at least tell him that before...” She couldn’t find the right words. “Before this all comes to an end.” Elodie turned her face into her shoulder. Gunner’s jacket was no longer around her frame, having been stripped and taken away from her in the medical bay.

The soldier stared at her as she tried to compose herself. She waited for him to say something—or to leave—and the longer he stood there watching her, the harder it was for her to maintain any semblance of composure.

Years she had cultivated her brave facade, and now, all of her work had been stripped away.

“Never follow your nightmares.” His voice was sad and she closed her eyes.

Elodie listened to his footsteps as he walked away, and she continued to listen long after he was gone and the door had been shut behind him; she was back within the uncomfortable silence, alone.

***

“YOU SHOULD LET HER go,” Stryker sighed. His projection was displayed in the center of the cabin.

Gunner slammed his fist into the wall. It wasn’t the first time. There wasn’t much wall left to abuse. He clenched his fist and it came back out of the paneling tangled in wires that sparked against his flesh.

He should let her go. He just didn’t want to. A day had come and gone since the Peace Keepers subdued Juke’s ship and boarded it. They came like a swarm shortly after, accompanied by a battalion of bots and men, to cleanse everything from within.

They had found him on the floor, twisted and deranged. Elodie had covered him, tried to protect him from the guns that were leveled at him. He’d been a shell of his former self, still hungering for more blood, with the taste of Juke’s cartilage in his mouth. He’d never wanted Elodie to see him that way.

But damn had it had felt so good.

It had been sublime. A gruesome climax experienced through a crimson lens, and she’d been his reward at the end. But as he gazed into her worried eyes, reason returned and he hated that she’d seen him like that.

I should let her go.

He shot a look at Stryker. The Cyborg wore his mask like always, thick and sharp around his face. He didn’t envy the snake, but if it were him, Gunner would never wear a mask. Anyone who came within striking distance would be doing so at their own risk.

Stryker refused to acknowledge that the poison he spewed could be a good thing.

“It’s for the best,” Stryker added.

“The best?” Gunner’s eyes burned.

“You’re an unpredictable motherfucker. I’m surprised this woman let you get close at all. You have a tendency of making everyone walk in the opposite direction of you and it’s not just because you’re an asshole, but because their life usually depends on it.”

Elodie had let him close. But did she really have a choice? So close.

She had let him in and then she’d let him stay. Gunner had never felt more at home than he did with her. Her touch was bliss. He wanted to sink himself into it, drown in it, and never reach the surface.

Gunner stopped himself, pulling at his hair, shutting the thoughts down. Bringing forth phantoms of her tortured him. The memories played perfectly in his head, every nuance recorded for eternity, every detail his to scrutinize and overanalyze.

And like a drug, he wanted more of it. He wanted new memories to replay and add to the old ones, to seduce and feed off of. He let out a heavy breath.

“I don’t think I can let her go.”

The snake grumbled. “Let me be the voice of fucking reason. No one should be around you. No one. I shouldn’t even be around you. I don’t need my ass to get exiled like yours.”

“Could you give up Norah?” Gunner asked. Stryker had told him all about what happened and why he’d never responded to Gunner’s communications. That this woman, Norah, had sent out a distress call of her own, and like the hero Stryker always pretended to be, he’d answered it.

Gunner chuckled. It was almost laughable, the timing. Stryker glared at him as if he’d gone crazy.

If the snake hadn’t answered that distress call and responded to Gunner’s communications instead, Gunner wouldn’t have stopped to investigate the Blessed. If they had both just done their fucking jobs, they would still both be monster hunters for the EPED. A month ago they had been.

Now, the snake—perfection himself—had quit, and Gunner was stuck dealing with Dommik for all future drop-offs. That’s if he didn’t jump ship himself.

He thought about dropping the job, especially after discovering that he’d been tracked and that the EPED had been keeping tabs on him for god knows how long.

The fucking swarm himself tracked him. No one else had that deadly combination of access and resources. Gunner had no proof...but he wasn’t done searching for it.

When he’d taken back his ship, after the Peace Keepers—enlisted by the EPED—followed it across the galaxy in search of him, Gunner had docked it on the same ship Elodie was on and then searched his vessel thoroughly. He knew what he was looking for but he’d been unable to find it. A piece of the swarm himself.

“I could never give Norah up,” Stryker said.

“And yet you can kill her with a kiss,” Gunner provoked.

No answer for that. Stryker shifted and his hologram moved to emulate. It was thick, the heavy few minutes of silence that hung between them.

“Did you eat the captain?”

Gunner warily lowered himself into a chair. “No.”

“Then there’s hope for you at least.”

Hope and Elodie were one and the same.

Hours later, Gunner washed himself up, scrubbed until his skin was red and raw enough to trigger his healing nanobots. He trimmed his hair and shaved away the stubble he let grow over his face the last couple of weeks. He rubbed his thumb, still not fully healed, knowing the other half remained deep within the bowels of the broken down mass of the legionnaire. A piece of him left behind, although a new piece would soon replace what he’d lost.

He donned his new uniform, one he had to replicate, as the last had been destroyed when the pirates raided his ship.

Gunner pressed his hand against the walls of the lavatory-turned-brewery and slid it over the whirlpool tank that sat quietly in the corner. The beer was long gone but the machines had been untouched. He could smell the lingering fragrance of hops in the air, bitter and sweet.

But the rest of the ship wasn’t the same. Not after what the pirates had done to it, and not after what he had done to it in search of the tracker.

The armory had been pillaged, the medical bay depleted of all its stores, the hidden cybernetics room looted of all its million-dollar tech. His bridge stank of others who’d made a home in his place as they attempted to hack his machines. He could even smell Ballsy when he focused, thin as the trail was.

The EPED acquisitions, for the most part, were fine. The doors that led to the laboratory were destroyed almost beyond repair, brought down by a bomb or a cannon of some sort. There had been a bazooka in his armory. It could’ve been that. Waste of perfectly good munitions.

Gunner wished he could’ve seen the pirates’ faces when they finally made it through. When they first laid their eyes upon the giant glass enclosures that were filled with flora. Flora that still waited to be offloaded and sent back to the EPED base on Earth.

There was very little money in the prospects he had stored within his most heavily barricaded part of the ship. There was nothing for the pirates to want. But still, if there’d never been a tracker on board his vessel, they would’ve made a killing selling off his personal gear.

Not one of his androids remained, though. That part of his kingdom had been stolen away.

Gunner stretched out the sleeves of his jacket and walked off his ship.

The landing zone and docking bay of the giant Peace Keeper battlemass filled his view, as did the hundreds of men and robots working the deck. Battle flyers and diplomatic ships lay on either side of him; they went on for miles in both directions. In a way, it reminded him of Ghost City, but much, much larger. The battlemasses weren’t warships, they were gigantic movable fortresses for the Earthian military fleet.

No one stopped him when he entered the main vessel. People watched but kept their distance. It was the first time he had emerged in days.

He was after one thing, and one thing only. Elodie. She’d been calling for him, wanting him, and they had tried to keep him away. He’d let it happen. Distance and time can change a person... But it hadn’t changed either of them. His little talk with Stryker had only strengthened his resolve. He knew what he wanted, and he had never been one for self-deprivation.

Gunner followed his nose to the holding units. They weren’t hard to find. He knew the smell of captivity well.

The alluring perfume she seemed to exude seeded like a welcoming mint through the endless passageways. Fresh and new and invigorating. The metal plates in his body vibrated with anticipation. His heart steadily increased with each step. He would always be able to find her, always be able to smell her.

His footsteps and stride lengthened. Speed bit at his heels, and the closer he got, the quicker his jackal became.

Mate.

He could sense her now, mere yards away from him. There was nothing that could stand in his way, not even the metal walls and the barriers.

A man in a uniform stood before the last door that led to her. Gunner outstretched his fingers then bunched them into restraining fists at his side.

“Elodie,” he said breathlessly.

The guard eyed him warily but nodded. “She’s being held within.”

“Currently.” Gunner didn’t break stride.

The guard didn’t answer—at least not quickly enough—and Gunner shoved him to the side. The locking mechanism of the door came loose at will and he pushed the panel aside quietly. A series of cells came into view but only one was occupied. He only sensed one person. He only felt her.

Elodie’s smell flooded his nose and her proximity electrified every fiber of his being.

Gunner approached her room quietly. It was the only one that had bars erected, but it was also the only one transformed into private quarters. He was pleased that she was kept away from everyone else. He’d demanded it.

Her quiet, even breaths came to him first, her body second as he rounded the corner. Elodie was lying on a bed facing the wall, her back to him, sleeping peacefully.

Completely unaware that he was there.

Gunner watched her for some time, suddenly uncertain how to proceed. He’d given time the chance to erode the strange bond between them, for her sake more than his, but it only made the ache in him grow each hour he stayed away.

But his patience had its limits. No one had ever disagreed with that.

Gunner wasn’t sure if he was there to say goodbye or to capture her anew. He had no plan but the immediate, instinctive need to see her—to be near her, even if it was the final time.

He didn’t know what they had now that their time was up. Technically, the deal between them had been satisfied.

His jackal propelled him forward and his machine-self agreed. The man in him was an outlier, having lost the battle to play hero.

He never entertained the thought that he was a good man.

Gunner turned away and found the mechanism that opened her room. The bars sank into the walls with a quiet swish. Elodie remained asleep.

He moved forward and sat down next to her pallet, leaning his back against the wall, his head tilted to the side to rest behind hers. He breathed her in and waited. Watched.

***

HER HAIR FLUTTERED, tickling the back of her head. It was accompanied by a soft exhale of breath and a wave of heat.

Elodie’s eyes snapped open and her body went rigid. Her hair moved again and she reached up to touch it, to get rid of the feeling, but her fingers were caught and held tight. The hand that held her was rough and calloused and gripped her almost desperately.

She twisted around and found Gunner sitting on the floor next to her bed.

Relief flooded her as she took in the sight of him: handsome, groomed, and so unlike the prisoner she’d been next to for weeks. They stared at each other silently for a time, neither one of them able to say a word.

“You clean up well,” she said, breaking the silence first with a smile.

“And you’re dressed like a girl,” he teased.

Elodie scooted back and lifted the covers on her bed, inviting him in. Gunner, without breaking the connection they shared, joined her under the blanket. The bed dipped under his weight and her body pressed up against his.

His arm hooked above her head and slid under her cheek and she clasped his shirt hard. He pulled her closer until she was cocooned in his arms. Elodie released a happy sigh as her bare feet threaded through his legs. She rubbed them over his boots as she settled into him.

“Gunner...” Elodie said breathlessly.

“Elodie,” he whispered back, a dark, low rasp she’d come to love. Another hot breath fell across her brow and she closed her eyes to drown in it. To remember everything they’d been through.

Before long, her pulse slowed to a rhythm that matched his and she succumbed to the smell of his heat and aftershave—content.

If this was a dream, she never wanted it to end.

The next time she woke, he was gone.