***

A CYCLE HAD GONE BY since he arrived but he had made progress.

Gunner bolstered his signal, letting his body slump into a restful stage, and checked the digital cracks throughout the ship’s security. He found gaps big enough for him to tear apart the code and patch it back up with corrupted ones in his wake. He didn’t want to leave a trail.

What he needed was APOLLO.

His fingers jerked on his thigh. Every minute that passed, his control over the ship’s systems strengthened, but keeping his progress on track was proving difficult. Pretending to be human, especially one that had everyone’s attention, was a nuisance. His other, temporary brig-mates had conversations and intrigues that enticed him back every time he left his body.

But Ely proved to be the worst. If Ely sighed too deeply, Gunner left the ship’s systems and came back to investigate. If Ely shifted positions, Gunner tracked his progress.

The verdict was still out on whether Ely was a man or not.

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a full breath but it hinted at no signs that proved whether Ely was male or female. All it proved was that everyone, on all sides, was dirty. He had a strong sense of smell, one of the strongest for a Cyborg, and even that sense was less reliable amongst the grime.

It smelled like shit and he was equally disgusted and at home in it.

I’ve been in here for eighteen hours and eighteen minutes.

Eighteen hours and eighteen minutes was enough for his ship to be on the other side of the galaxy. It was enough time to make it halfway to the nearest wormhole. Gunner couldn’t account for the time he’d spent rebooting but based on previous reboots, he had been down for less than an hour.

Someone coughed and he jerked fully back into himself.

Gunner looked around with a sneer and found the guy on the opposite side of him staring. He sniffed again out of habit and was flooded with the detritus that only reminded him he wasn’t where he was supposed to be: with his girls and APOLLO and on his ship with his acquisitions. Even his clothes were beginning to betray his smell.

Gunner stood.

Everyone stopped to watch.

He searched his cell and made a show of testing out the bars, careful not to bend and break them as he did so.

“No way out, man,” the man on his right said. The one who’d tugged his jacket.

Gunner shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to try. What’s your name?”

“Royce, you?”

“Gunner,” he murmured and settled his eyes on Ely. Who refuses to acknowledge my existence. He appeared to be asleep but Gunner knew better. He knew he was listening. Listening to everything. Like me.

Gunner’s eyes moved to Kallan, one cell beyond, who murderously glared at him. The man had given up on dealing for his jacket several hours ago.

“Is your name for the tattoos on your cheeks or the other way around?” Royce asked.

“The other way around.” Gunner circled his cell. Three walls of bars surrounded him with a full wall at his back. The tip of his boot toed the vent that dipped and ran directly across the center and into the units on either side of him. There was a grated hole in the middle of it and one in each cell as well. He looked up to the paneling above, which he was sure opened up into restraints.

Without giving himself away, he couldn’t reach up high enough to touch or take it apart.

“They use those sometimes,” Royce said, interrupting his perusal. “The guards trigger them from the panel on the other side of your unit door, opens up to restraints.”

“Figured out that much,” Gunner muttered.

“Never a good sign when that happens. The last guy they chained up didn’t make it and it took a while for him to die too. When they were done, they left his corpse for days before androids came and cleaned up.”

“What’d he do?”

“Refused recruitment. They made an example of him.”

It’s what I’d do. String someone up and make an example out of them.

Gunner moved to his cell door and studied the metal paneling outside the bars. He couldn’t fit his hand through to reach it but he could feel the electricity and connection regardless. He eyed the mechanism on the empty unit opposite of him and memorized the interface, the order of the numbers, and then mirrored it in his head. He threaded his fingers through the one-inch opening and felt around.

“We’ve tried everything. Those panels are unreachable and indestructible. Even wasted good water gels trying to short-circuit them,” Royce said.

Idiots. Of course they’re indestructible. You should see my brig.

His could hold a Cyborg, at least for a time, depending on who. He once locked Dommik in it and it took the spider almost a full day to get free. Mainly because he refused to shift. Gunner mused at the memory and the hundreds of images he had of his brethren in his ‘other’ form now. It took Dommik that long to transform and slip his winding, metal arms out from the laser barricades to reach the other side of the room and release himself.

There was nothing quite like making a man live with his most hated self and capturing it on a hard drive for future use. Sometimes he even sent the images marked ‘high priority’ to Dommik for fun.

It’d been worth it. Until then, Gunner had never seen the spider as an actual metal beast.

Dommik’s new assistant is going to have quite a fun time when she finds out.

He wondered how the redheaded girl managed to get on an EPED Cyborg ship in the first place. His eyes trailed back to Ely.

Kat looked like a woman. Even from across the universe and on a fuzzy feed, he knew instantly that Dommik’s assistant was a female. But within feet of Ely, he was unsure. His jackal said female, his machine said male, and the man couldn’t quite rationalize either.

Ely was tall and slender from what he could tell despite his oversized clothes. He acted like a man, tried to at least, but there was a certain type of...vulnerability about him. The kind of vulnerability that made him want to poke and see what would happen, and possibly protect it. Maybe it was because Ely appeared to be too young to be in such a shitty situation, or maybe it was because he was really a she. And this place was no place for a woman. Especially one without a gun.

Gunner drew in a breath. His nose filled with the worst smells of humanity again as he turned back to Royce. “Have you tried blood?”

Royce canted his head and looked at his cell door. “Blood? Blood can’t do anything that water can’t and no one’s giving up that amount of blood to pour over it.”

“Water doesn’t conduct electricity, Royce,” he said. “Blood has shit tons of salts and metals in it and is a, let’s just say, a very good conductor.”

Suddenly, Ely stood and moved to his cell’s locking mechanism. The action drew Gunner’s attention. He watched as Ely threaded a slender hand through the bars to feel around. Just like he had moments before.

Royce huffed. “No one’ll risk dying to get their door open.”

“No, I suppose not. Ely, what do you think?” Gunner cocked his head, taking in the scene. Ely’s fingers stretched out and felt around the interface. Thin hands, long fingers, steady despite the situation. His visual honed in. Not weak, but searching specifically. This wasn’t the first time Ely had played with the locks.

A twitch was Ely’s only response. Ignored.

Smiling, Gunner walked to the grated hole in the center of his cell with his eyes still on him. “Royce,” he called out without looking at the man, “what’s recruitment?”

“Keep your mouth shut!” Kallan fired out. “Don’t tell him shit.”

Gunner’s smile grew. Royce hesitated.

“Tell me, Royce, and you can have my jacket.”

“What the fuck!” Kallan shot to his feet.

Ely stopped investigating the lock and now looked straight ahead. Gunner followed his gaze through the bars to the grey wall across the room.

“Tell me, Royce, and it’s yours.”

Ely shivered and turned toward him. I always fucking win.

Gunner stopped his gaze from flashing red and capturing the moment. Ely’s focus shifted to search his face, his mouth. He stilled as Ely took him in, his eyes moving across his body. Gunner stood with his feet slightly spread, his back straightening, knowing he was being checked out.

Whether it was a woman checking him out, or taking him in like he was just another dangerous obstacle, didn’t matter to him. Mostly because he was a dangerous obstacle.

He liked having Ely’s focus. Why?

Gunner combed his fingers through his bangs and brushed them back. He couldn’t quite make out his neighbor’s features beneath the thick smudges of dirt over them. Ely had the dirtiest face of everyone in the brig.

Strike for being a female. Dirt as camouflage. Clever.

“Recruitment is when they need to fill a replacement in the crew,” Royce said, interrupting Gunner’s thoughts, and Kallan roared. “They come here first and offer the spot or spots and we get a chance out of here.”

“Why haven’t you all joined then?” he asked indifferently, his attention remaining on his neighbor. Ely moved back to his usual spot against the wall, sliding down to rest in the center of his cell.

“Sometimes it’s a game,” Royce answered.

Gunner pulled his arm slowly out of one sleeve and let it fall to his back. “What kind of game?”

“The kind where it’s all a lie and you’re signing up to be beaten or killed.”

“The odds are not in favor then?” He tugged his jacket the rest of the way off and let it slide down to his fingers. Every move he made was being tracked but he only made a show of it for him.

Gunner shook his jacket in Ely’s direction. He opened his eyes and frowned. Gunner sniffed the air again and gritted his teeth. Nothing.

“Even if they take you, doesn’t mean they won’t take you after a whole lot of pain.”

“Ely,” Gunner said, ignoring Royce, “you never answered my question.” The grip on his jacket tightened. Answer it and I’ll give you the jacket instead. He wanted to give it to him, he realized, not Royce. Nor anyone else. Ely shivered again under his perusal. I could make you warm. It’s up to you.

Silence was all he got from his victim. Stoic, annoying silence. Ely’s irises weren’t just a mere mud brown. There was a spark of amber in them, gold, like his swirling beer. Gunner smiled softly.

“About the blood?” he whispered. “What do you think?”

Still, no answer came forth.

Gunner turned away and approached Royce, dropping his jacket against the bars for the other man to work it through. Seconds passed by as it was tugged to the other side, followed by minutes of questionable silence that weighed between him and Ely. Gunner waited for him to speak. But he didn’t.

Royce slipped on the jacket. Ely’s shivers deepened.

Strike for male.

Gunner clenched his hands. Eighteen hours and forty-five minutes.

He re-took his place with his back against the wall and stared across his cell at the endless grey metal that held Ely’s unwavering attention.

I’m going to get him to speak.

Royce now had his jacket for the time being, which sat like a stone in Gunner’s gut. Just the thought of the grimy stranger tainting his territory with his scent irked him. He would get it back. Soon. Kallan hissed his displeasure on the other side.

He never thought he’d feel a kinship with a man like Kallan, but woefully he now did. They both wanted Ely to speak.

Gunner raised his internal temperature to offset the encroaching chill in the air and dove back into his work, moving his shoulder against the bars. His bar mate stared straight ahead. Gunner lowered his voice.

“Did you think I was going to kill him?” he asked.

Ely sighed.

“I think you did.” Gunner settled in. “I thought about it but I didn’t want to give myself away...”

He waited for a response but once again, got nothing. He gritted his teeth.

“If you move closer, my body heat will warm you.” Truth.

Nothing.

“I know what you are,” Gunner bluffed.

Still nothing. Ely didn’t give him a single damned cue that he was listening. Gunner wanted to ram his fist through the metal between them and take hold of him but he knew the second he did, dozens of men and androids with guns would be triggered. They’d set upon him and he would be one step farther from finding out where his ship was.

Gunner rested his shoulders back and gave up. His control over the ship’s security continued to strengthen and with it, his need for revenge.

Time eventually slipped by as the cycle progressed and nothing else occurred. The quiet conversations had died at some point when he hadn’t been aware, but now that he was, he realized a new tension filled the air.

It was different from before, heavier, broodingly so, and filled with anticipation. He found himself staring at the door with everyone else.

And he knew, long before the rest, when the guards approached.

Two men walked into the brig with an android following behind. They headed straight for him.

***

THE DOOR OPENED FAR too soon and Elodie’s eyes snapped to the men walking through. The first thing she felt was disappointment that her dad wasn’t one of them. Fear replaced her disappointment when they closed in on her dad’s old cell. Déjà vu struck, and for a split second, she saw the events from that evening played out again in her head once again.

This time instead of her dad, it was the new man playing the lead role.

Elodie had counted every minute that had gone by, knowing that it was a countdown to something bad, and the man who invaded her safe place only made the count that much harder. She knew Gunner hadn’t actually discovered her secret. It was impossible without evidence, and she wasn’t going to give him any if she had a say about it.

If that meant silence, so be it.

She stole glances his way when she knew he wasn’t looking at her. But every time he caught her, she felt trapped, caged, ensnared. No other man had made her feel that way before, not even when there weren’t bars between them.

So she counted down the time in her head, waiting for the guards to come in for their evening visit and find Gunner awake. Everyone knew he was going to be tonight’s entertainment.

It made her feel sick. It made her feel sicker when she felt relief knowing that she’d make it through one more cycle alive.

He hadn’t done anything to her, nothing that any of the other men in the brig hadn’t, and yet she was secretly wishing for him to be taken away.

“Look who’s awake,” one of the guards said.

“Boss’ll be pleased.”

Gunner stood and moved toward them. “You stole my ship.” His voice was deeper than before and low enough for her to strain for the words.

“We did. And it was easy,” one of them taunted. “We’ve ransacked it too.”

“Have you now?” Gunner tilted his head.

“Stop fucking talking to him and let’s bring him up for the boss. Get the door.” The other guard lifted his weapon and centered it against Gunner’s head as they opened his cell. Together, keeping their guns trained on him, the guards backed up a step, letting the android behind move forward and restrain him. She’d never seen the guards act the way they did with him. She wasn’t the only one who felt differently about the newcomer.

Elodie glanced between the three men. She knew based on his eyes alone, that Gunner was unusual, but standing next to the other male guards, his strangeness was even more obvious.

The electric shackles clicked into place around his wrists. Somehow, the noise made her want to giggle.

He was taller than the guards, leaner too, and the outline of muscle under his clothes was more apparent now that he no longer wore his jacket. In any other circumstance, she wouldn’t have cared what the men looked like, but this time, something compelled her to take notice. To size them up against each other.

Sizing them up in comparison to him.

Gunner was scarier than the guards. Enough so that she believed—hoped— that he would break loose, kill them both, destroy the android, and kill everyone on the ship besides her and her dad. That he’d set her free.

Wouldn’t that be a fantasy to last the ages?

He casually strolled from his cell.

He’s not afraid?

She moved closer.

One of the guards lifted a rod from his belt and slammed it into the back of Gunner’s knees. He fell forward with a thud. The moment he landed, the rod came down on him again.

And her wistful, impossible dream was struck from her mind as the blows continued to rain down upon him.

Elodie watched in horror as they beat the crap out of him, aiming their hits over his joints and non-vitals. Each agonizing thump beat to the racing of her heart, and she found herself clutching the bars closest to them with ghost-white knuckles.

She wanted to call out and beg them to stop but she didn’t. As the beating continued and Gunner made no move to defend himself—or any sound indicating his pain—Elodie regretted wishing he would be taken away. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to die.

Eventually, he slumped forward, unresponsive.

It was over as soon as it began and the guards both tried to lift him back up to his knees. They quickly gave up and let the android haul his body out of the brig. She didn’t know how long she stood clutching the bars, but eventually, it sank in that he was gone and the door had closed behind him long ago. The lights overhead dimmed further as she peeled her fingers back and returned to her safe place. Safe once again.

“That cell is cursed,” someone muttered, sending her eyes back to the empty space next to her.

He won’t be back.

Once again, she was alone. Over a whole cycle had gone by without her dad and she hadn’t realized until that moment. And as her stomach sucked at the empty air inside her belly, she couldn’t decide whether she missed Gunner as the temporary distraction he had been, or if she was relieved he was gone and her safe space had been returned to her.

Elodie rubbed the goosebumps from her arms, choosing to forget him and focus on surviving.

I can’t survive with the dead. Her eyes roamed over the other prisoners, settling briefly on Royce and his new jacket. I can’t survive if I’m an idiot. She quietly moved to the vent and did her business before curling up on her side.

It was hard to sleep, dangerous to sleep, but she couldn’t resist it any longer. Every muscle in her body ached, every fiber of her being hurt, and her nerves were so beyond frayed, there were times she thought she’d never be able to sleep again.

Until she forced herself to remain awake for days on end. She hadn’t slept since before her dad was taken.

Elodie pushed her hand under her head and bent her knees, leaving her other arm to drape heavily against her middle over her hollow stomach. The pressure gave the illusion of helping although it really didn’t. It let the pressure on her heart grow.

Elodie tried to picture her dad beside her but couldn’t. Instead, she only saw the man with gun tattoos in the space beyond.

When had they switched places?

Maybe she was finally going crazy.

I can’t survive without sleep.

It was the last thing she told herself before she let her body give in and give up.

***

AN ANDROID HAULED HIM from the brig, clutching his arm, shuffling him in an awkward way over the floor grates to keep its hold away from the electric shackles.

If he were human, it would’ve dislocated his shoulder, and so he dislocated it. He had to maintain appearances, after all. If they learned he was a weaponized Cyborg, he’d be shot, ejected out of the airlock, and shot again with the ship’s cannons. That’s if the pirates lived long enough to do so.

Gunner let the pain seep through his systems like a drug.

It wasn’t long before he was propped up into a chair and bound to it. The guards left him alone in the room with the android who’d moved to stand next to the open door, and Gunner’s ears filled with the sounds of receding footsteps. He was closer to the ships main systems in this room, and because of that, it was easier for him to connect. His infectious codes were working hard to break through.

But he looked forward to finding his information another way.

He leaned forward and drooped, forcing his systems to shut down and go into stasis. His skin immediately cooled off and his brow broke into a sweat, and his shoulder sagged to the side. He looked at the android through his bangs.

A man walked through the opening and kneeled before him. Unlike the guards, he was dressed a little nicer, and by nicer, Gunner eyed the pistol at his side.

“They say your name is Gunner. I’m in charge of the patrols, and in charge of your fate. I’m your god.”

Really? Gunner mumbled. The man grabbed Gunner’s hair and yanked his head up until their eyes locked.

“We can make this quick.”

Can we? “That so?” Gunner said. “God?” Really?

His tormentor smiled and jerked his head further back. “Give us your ship.”

“Thought you already had it.”

The man’s smile only grew. It made him want to smile back. “Ah, so we do, why else do you think I’m asking?”

“To set me up.”

His hair was let go and Gunner leaned back into the chair, watching the guy. He couldn’t tell if he was just another guard or if he was the captain. He’d settle with a member of the bridge crew if he had a clue. Pirates didn’t wear name tags...only governmental workers did, and although he worked for the EPED, he never wore one either.

“Why would we set you up?”

“Because you don’t know who I am,” Gunner countered. “That’s a problem isn’t it, God?” he mocked.

The man’s grin fell and he knew he guessed correctly. Because I have the same fucking problem. He had no idea who attacked him and his patience for that information quickly waned.

A metal rod came down on him again, and he was prepared for it, even without the numbing effects his nanocells provided and the accelerated healing, he endured.

It slammed into his gut and the tops of his thighs in an effort to break something inside his body. Nothing would break. At least not for long. His only problem was if the man truly wanted to kill him, he wasn’t good at playing dead. His jackal had its limitations on tricks.

“Please,” he sputtered, groaning, and laughing a little through it, but his laughs sounded like painful moans. “Please stop.”

He was hit several more times for good measure before the man leaned in and got in his face. “Do you want to die?”

Gunner licked his teeth. “No.”

“Do you know how a man like me comes to beating a fuck like you?”

Hrrmm... “No?”

“Because men like me don’t tolerate shits like you.”

The man rammed his fist into his dislocated shoulder. Fuucck. Gunner fell into a brief void of pain before he could react, and stopping his systems from kicking back on in retaliation. The man raised his fist again and the lights flickered, stopping him, and stopping Gunner right before he killed him.

The android in the corner moved forward on his behalf, sensing a threat to the guard it was programmed to protect. The android could read his violence better than any human, the signals were hard to fake even for a Cyborg, harder still for one who was tempering his strength.

“Why does a guy like you have a ship like that?”

“Luck, I imagine.”

The smile returned. “Oh come now, luck has nothing to do with it. You have cybernetics in your body and not the second-hand shit. Only a rich man without a background can get that done to himself. And you’re not a Cyborg, no Cyborg would be dumb enough to get his ship stolen from right underneath him.”

Gunner kept his mouth shut and his anger under control.

“No, but you’re something or somebody special, and I’m going to find out one way or another. I don’t have to torture it out of you, yeah know. We could work together.” The man walked around him in circles as he spoke but stopped at his back. “Or we don’t and I can have a little fun...”

“Work together?” Gunner made a show of looking around the bare room, the outdated design, and the metal piping along the ceiling and sides. “I’m doing better on my own.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not the one who can’t crack the codes.” Gunner braced as a fist struck straight down on his shoulder again, harder than before, but he continued through the pain, “I’m doing much better on my own.” He heard the rod slice the air.

“Even being hit by a man like you, I’m doing better,” Gunner taunted.

“You really don’t know when to shut up?” And again and again.

No. I really don’t.

All he knew was that he had more men on his list to kill, and some men had their names double listed. And that his tattoos didn’t look nearly as good with bruises.