Fifteen
She loved him.
His rash, reckless female loved him.
Vector continued to clasp that revelation to his big cyborg heart moments later, as they received the hail from the Humanoid Alliance vessel. He never would have processed three words could make him so happy. But they did.
She loved him.
The Humanoid Alliance ship, the Vault, requests hailing frequencies be opened, Captain, Chuckles relayed. The warrior stood beside him, his palms on the holding chamber’s control panel.
The image of Commander Smith was displayed in one corner of the makeshift viewscreen. The enemy was merely a projection but it irked Vector that it sat in his chair. That was his position, a position he’d honorably earned.
It’s time. Vector warned everyone on board the Freedom, including his female. Open hailing frequencies.
No image appeared on the screen. “This is the Vault.” The voice broadcast through the warship was simulated. “Identify yourself and state your purpose.”
“This is Commander Smith.” The projection’s lips moved in perfect synchronicity with the simulated voice. Vector, with his enhanced visual and auditory systems, couldn’t distinguish it from a real human. He was impressed. His female had skills. “Authorization code.” The seventy-two digit code was recited.
“Authorization code verified, Commander Smith.” The robotic voice responded.
A lifeform scan is being completed, Captain, Chuckles transmitted.
Vector tensed, his fingers a breath away from the control panel. If the Humanoid Alliance raised their shields or showed any other signs of suspicion, he would abandon their mission and order a retreat.
“One human was detected on board your ship, Commander Smith.” The voice informed him and Vector relaxed, lowering his hands. The blocking worked. “That allotment has been authorized. Submit fingerprint scan.”
The projection placed its palms on the embedded control panel. Chuckles sent the already inputted fingerprints to the Humanoid Alliance.
“Fingerprints verified.” The voice continued the process. “Submit iris scan.”
The projection leaned forward, gazing into the embedded control panel. Chuckles sent the iris scans they’d inputted to the Humanoid Alliance.
“Irises verified.”
“Commander Smith.” The image of a gray-haired, wrinkled human male appeared on their makeshift viewscreen. The older officer’s uniform was weighted down with metals.
Vector transmitted the footage to his female.
There was a slight delay, that could be explained by a systems issue, and the projection responded. “Commander Alakai. I should have known you’d survive. Tau Ceti was a triumph.”
“Others didn’t think so.” Commander Alakai smirked, his pride in blowing up the planet and killing millions of beings angering Vector. His friend Gap and Nymphia, that warrior’s female had also died on Tau Ceti. “Weak-willed females.”
The male must not have met beings like Kasia if he believed females lacked strength. She wasn’t weak in any way.
“Those pussies must have shit themselves.” The projection laughed, his bushy eyebrows quivering.
Can I kill this male? Vector’s female asked over the transmission lines.
No. Someone else would be given the honor of avenging his friend. Vector’s focus was his female. But we can watch him die.
Commander Alakai’s torture and death would be transmitted to all cyborgs throughout the universe. Rage, Crash, their females, and other warriors would want to witness it also.
All of them had grieved the ending of Gap’s and his female’s lifespans. The young cyborg had met and lost his female in mere moments. It had been tragic, moving.
Terrifying.
Tension stretched across Vector’s shoulders. He wouldn’t lose Kasia. She would remain on the warship, where she was safe.
“I have stories to tell, Smith.” Judging by Commander Alakai’s expression, those stories involved tormenting and killing innocent beings. “Come on board and I’ll relay them. You’re authorized to land.”
The human’s image disappeared and the Vault’s docking bay doors opened, light spilling into the darkness. Vector resisted the urge to go to his female, to return to the bridge. The Humanoid Alliance might be monitoring the interior, watching the projection of Commander Smith, looking for suspicious activity.
I’ve been perusing the acceptance forms for parts and materials used during the manufacturing of the Vault. Kasia transmitted. There are too many doors received and not enough control panels.
That could be a problem. His team needed control panels to access the Vault’s systems. Could there be missing or duplicated acceptance forms?
The other record keeping is meticulous. His female expressed her doubts.
We could be walking into a trap, Vector transmitted to the entire team. Be careful.
His female had uncovered things about him and his brethren they hadn’t known. She’d stayed alive alone on ships filled with her enemies. Only a fool would dismiss her misgivings.
They had to move forward, however. It was safer than retreating. Their warship was close to the Humanoid Alliance vessel, too close to evade missiles, and the enemy was, no doubt, observing them, seeking any reason to blast them out of space.
Vector jutted his jaw and guided the warship into the brightly lit, immaculately clean docking bay. No one shot at them. No alarms sounded.
The space was empty. There were no beings, no machinery, no ships. That made Vector uneasy but the barrenness could be explained. There were alternate docking bays. The other commanders and their senior officers could have parked their ships in those spaces.
And Kasia had said Commander Alakai was a paranoid bastard, limiting the officers eligible for berth in his new vessel. Vector’s brethren would have killed some of those males during their rebellion. There might not be many humans on the Vault for the cyborgs to pursue.
Killing Commander Alakai was reason enough to commandeer the vessel. The warriors would seek justice for Gap, for Gap’s female, and stop the human from terrorizing others.
Kasia had shared the commander’s history with Vector. Tau Ceti hadn’t been the first planet the male had invaded. Commander Alakai had specialized in suppressing local populations, had built his career around brutally, violently conquering worlds for the Humanoid Alliance.
Vector’s lips flattened. The cyborgs would end that horrific career, kill the commander, avenge the lifespans he’d ruined.
Vector set the Freedom down in the middle of the space, closest to the interior doors. That would shorten the distance the cyborgs needed to cover, speed the takeover of the Humanoid Alliance ship.
We don’t have visuals on any control panels, Captain, Truth informed him.
Without control panels, they couldn’t access the Vault’s systems from inside the docking bay. That increased the mission’s difficulty level.
Female? Chuckles? He asked for their input.
There’s no remote access. Chuckles confirmed what Vector already suspected. We need those control panels.
There should be control panels outside the doors. The humans would require a way to access the space. Prepare to bust down the doors.
There will be multiple doors. Vector heard the apprehension in his female’s transmission. And I’ve uncovered an alarming number of terrain missile launchers on the acceptance forms.
The situation became worse with every passing heartbeat. Chuckles, open the warship doors. Vector’s processors whirred as he derived a plan.
The doors are open, Captain, the warrior reported.
Truth, prepare your team, Vector instructed. I’ll shoot a hole in the enemy’s doors. You lead twenty of your warriors through it. The rest are to disable any Humanoid Alliance weapons.
He would assist them, eliminate those threats to his female.
Female, work on remote access. Vector gave Kasia a task, knowing if he didn’t, she’d insist on joining one of the teams.
Yes, Captain. The warriors rushed through the warship, preparing to depart as soon as he blasted through the doors.
Vector studied the shot he had to take. His ship’s guns weren’t aimed at the docking bay’s interior doors. He would have to redirect the weapons and the Humanoid Alliance were watching the ship. He was certain of that. Any movement of the guns would signal his intentions to the enemy.
Stay where you are, female. He needed to speak to her one more time, reassure himself she was safe.
Be careful, warrior. Her voice was edged with concern.
For him, the male she loved.
Vector stood straighter. He wouldn’t fail her.
Shooting on three, two, one. He swung the guns and fired. Metal screamed as a C Model-sized hole was blown into the middle of the enemy’s doors.
The warriors streamed out of the Freedom, running at cyborg speed. Some of them raced for the doors. The others circled the warship.
Compartments in the walls of the docking bay opened. Guns extended from them, all of the weapons pointed at their warship.
Vector. His female warned.
I see them. He sprinted out of their warship, drawing his guns. Chuckles was positioned near the door and nodded to him as he passed. Projectiles zinged around them, pinging against the exterior panels of the Freedom.
Those panels would protect Kasia. The projectiles wouldn’t pierce them.
Vector rolled, shot, aiming for the muzzle of the Humanoid Alliance weapons, a vulnerability in their guns. Few human warriors had the skill to target that small an opening but he and his brethren were cyborgs. They were manufactured to be precise, to be the best.
Projectiles bounced off his body armor, chipping away at it. One ripped through his right hand, embedding in the gun’s handle. Pain streaked up his arm, sharp and intense.
Vector grimaced and continued shooting, deactivating the Humanoid Alliance weapons one by one. Blood streamed between his fingers.
He ran, shot, rolled, shot. The crack of gunfire echoed from every corner of the docking bay, loud and never ending. The acidic metal scent of battle burned his nostrils.
A projectile grazed Vector’s forehead, a sting he barely felt. Warmth streaked down his face.
Vector. His female sounded frantic. She must have been watching him on her handheld, had spotted that damage.
I’m okay. Skull is reinforced. He concentrated on his task, had no time to consider the pain. The noise in the docking bay decreased with each dead wall gun.
A projectile streamed along his neck and Vector gritted his teeth, sucking back that agony. Soon the space would be clear of threats.
He could then return to his female. She’d douse him with pain inhibitors, fussing over every scratch. And he would repair.
As though mocking those plans, missile launchers dropped from the ceilings.
“Fraggin’ hole,” Vector cursed, his circuits pulsing.
In a space battle, a missile would be deflected by a warship’s shields but landing required lowering those shields. A missile could rip an unprotected vessel apart.
Kasia was inside that unprotected vessel.
Warriors, Vector shouted through the transmission lines. Focus your efforts. Multiple projectiles would be required to deactivate the missile launchers.
We’ll down them, Captain. Chuckles assured him.
They had to. Failure was unthinkable.
Vector and his males eliminated one, two of the missile launchers. A low hum originated from the weapons.
Panic surged through Vector. The missile launchers were now aimed toward the Freedom.
Toward his female.
Projectiles whizzed around Vector. Any one of those could end his fragile human’s lifespan. She wore no body armor, the limited space inside the compartment not allowing that layer of protection.
He couldn’t tell her to leave the vessel. She’d die.
Faster, males. Vector heard the terror in his voice and didn’t care. He couldn’t lose her. She was the heart in his chest, the air in his lungs.
Another missile launcher’s barrel shattered into pieces. Satisfaction filled him. There was only one left. Vector turned to target it.
Saw it propel a missile into the air.
Vector shot at that spinning shell. It moved too quickly. He couldn’t lock on his mark, couldn’t stop it from reaching its destination.
Female, he bellowed, running toward the ship.
Light blazed, temporarily shorting his visual system. The boom took out his auditory capabilities. Shrapnel punctured his skin. Heat blasted against his face. Vector hurt all over.
The biggest pain centered around his big cyborg heart. It had detonated like the missile, agony radiating from the point of impact.
His female had been in that ship.
Vector’s visual and auditory systems flickered, torturing him with fleeting images of ship parts scattered over the previously clean docking bay, jagged pieces of metal shining under the lights, the lick of flames against a tattered chair.
The captain’s chair.
Kasia had been hidden in the compartment next to it. “Female,” Vector shouted, scrambling semi-blindly over the wreckage, not caring about damage to himself, thinking of her, only her.
“Captain.” Someone, it sounded like Chuckles, touched his arm. “It was a direct hit. Your female couldn’t have sur—”
“No.” He shrugged the warrior away from him. “She’s alive. I know she is.”
Vector lurched forward, unable to contemplate the alternative. His female would be scared, might be damaged.
His left knee collided with debris, the contact jarring his frame. Vector continued moving.
He had to find Kasia, repair his little human.
His systems returned online. The lack of gunfire and the mist of floating particles would have made him question reality if it weren’t for the pain in his form, in his soul.
His female. He couldn’t lose her.
His hands touched a side panel. He searched along it, seeking the door. Some of the unnatural fog cleared. There was no door. The entire front of the warship was gone, brutally ripped from its body.
Kasia had been on the bridge. Its fragments littered the floor.
Vector had witnessed thousands of explosions. He knew…he knew…
He tilted back his head and howled. Vector howled for his female, for the pain she must have felt, and he howled for his loss, that sorrow mixed with regret.
He had failed her, failed the only being he had ever cared to show his true self to, failed the only being he had loved, who had loved him, all of him.
“My female.” He dropped to his knees. Metal sliced through his right shin. Vector felt only despair, withdrawing inward, staring into an abyss of nothingness, a never-ending lifespan filled with heartache and loneliness, devoid of hope.
Empty of his Kasia.
“Warrior.”
He blinked. The voice was faint. Were his processors malfunctioning? Had his grief-ravaged heart manufactured his female’s reply?
“Sorry.” The figment of his programming coughed once, twice. “Meant to obey.”
“Female?” He looked in the direction of her voice. She’d survived? His gaze returned to the space where the nose of the warship once was. How was that possible?
“Couldn’t.” She coughed again. “Ship. Large stationary target.”
His wonderfully reckless female hadn’t obeyed him. Vector jumped to his feet. She’d left the bridge.
She was alive.
He leaped, grasped the torn edge of his ship, pulled himself upward. The interior was chaotic. The force of the blast had toppled walls and pushed all of its contents toward the back. Live circuits hung from the tattered ceiling, snapping with energy.
“Talk to me, female.” He sniffed the air, trying to locate her.
“Have to talk.” She wheezed. “Handheld broken.”
His female and her devices. She was addicted to them.
He was addicted to her. “As long as you’re not broken.” Vector navigated through the rubble, moving carefully. “You have other handhelds.”
“I am.” She coughed. “Bit broken.”
He squeezed past a large chunk of wall. That partition between chambers had been sliced in half. The top section had fallen, folded toward the floor. The side facing the bridge had been riddled with projectiles.
Vector peered behind it and squelched another howl. A bit broken was minimalizing his female’s damage. Her face glistened with blood. A shard of metal was embedded in her side. Her feet disappeared under the wall.
She’d been protected by the brunt of the explosion but the little that had hit her had inflicted damage. His heart twisted. Possibly lifespan-ending damage.
Kasia glanced up at him. Her eyes widened. “You. Are. Mess.” Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe. Her skin was the color of ash.
His fragile little female must be in excruciating pain yet she was concerned about him, a warrior manufactured for the harshness of battle.
“Don’t worry about that mess.” Vector crouched beside her. “I’m a cyborg. I’m designed to survive damage.” She wasn’t. She was frighteningly human.
He touched her head. The skin was torn but her skull wasn’t cracked.
“Medical bay. On board.” Her fingers remained curled around the broken handheld. “You. Need it.”
She needed the medical bay on board the enemy ship. He gently pried the broken handheld from her fingers and set it aside. Her hands shook. His female was in shock.
“Can you move your feet?” He would carry her.
“Unfasten boots.” She winced as she grasped her legs. “You lift. I move. Maybe.” She sighed as though the effort of speaking had exhausted all of her energy.
Vector loosened her boots, spread them back from her ankles. When he pulled his fingers away, they glistened with freshly spilled blood.
His female wasn’t a cyborg. The nanocybotics he’d transferred to her in the past weren’t enough to stop the bleeding. She wasn’t repairing herself.
“Get ready.” Vector gripped the block, bent his knees, and hefted it upward, his muscles straining under the weight of it.
She pulled on her legs. Her feet slipped out of her boots.
They were flat, the skin split.
Every bone had to be broken. Vector dropped the block, the floor groaning under its mass. Kasia leaned back, resting against a piece of debris, her breathing fast and shallow.
“Female?” He hunkered down beside her.
“Need new feet.” She smiled at him, strain lines etching her quivering lips. “Got any?”
Only his female would make a joke at a time like this. Vector’s chest expanded with pride, with love. She was so beautiful, so strong.
“You will keep the feet you have, female.” He brushed some of the blood away from her cheeks. Her skin was cool to the touch. “I’ll repair them.”
“Thought would have to hack. Them off.” Her eyelids drifted closed, her eyelashes fluttering. “Should have known.” His determined female forced her eyes open again. “You’d save me.”
“You saved yourself.” Vector admitted.
He had tried to keep her safe by isolating her, by restricting her movements to their ship, by hiding her in the compartment, but that strategy had failed.
If it hadn’t been for her quick thinking, for her rebellious, reckless nature, she would have died.
“I’ll better protect you in the future.” He made her that solemn vow.
Wherever he went, whether it was into battle or in front of the cyborg council, his female would be by his side. He wouldn’t allow anything or anyone, including his own doubts, to part them.
Never again.