***

I NEED TO GET TO ELY.

Gunner dug a bullet out of his arm, his fingers prying skin open. Bullets stopped dead on impact the moment they hit his metal frame but that didn’t stop them from burying into tissue and muscle.

Pulling the projectile free, he dropped it and went to work on the fifth one, feeling like a grade-A piece of target practice.

So much for staying under the radar.

“Give up!” A man roared at the other end of the hallway. Gunner humphed and tore another round out of his shoulder.

The pain should have been debilitating but he barely felt it. Pure organic adrenaline coursed through him, keeping it at bay.

“We need to rush him now,” one of them whispered, thinking he couldn’t hear. “I saw him take more shots than a goliath from Elyria! There’s no way he’s still alive.”

Oh, I’m alive. Alive and annoyed.

The second floor crew quarters had devolved into a battlefield. When the men found him naked as the day is long, holding a gun in Ballsy’s shrine, they hadn’t asked questions. Shoot first, ask later.

His eyes found the body closest to him—the last pirate who tried to ‘rush him.’

Let them think I’m dead. He jerked out another bullet, releasing a spray of blood.

“He ain’t dead. He’s holed up like a fucking trap-door spider. If you want to rush him, be my guest but I’m staying here. You saw what happened to the last guy. Only an idiot would charge a blind corner like that.”

“Where the fuck is Ballsy when you need him?”

“The asshole destroyed security—you didn’t see it—Ballsy’s corpse is probably among the burnt-out tech.”

They prattled on.

Gunner opened his clip and checked his ammo, then closed it again. At least one good fucking thing happened. He didn’t have to worry about being found out any longer. The jackal’s out of the bag. It wasn’t the opportune moment, his discovery, but it was one less thing to worry about.

If he had his way, he’d have the coordinates of his ship before the real bloodbath began.

“Captain’s not responding.”

“Piece of shit is safe, why would he fucking come out?”

That piece of shit is the smartest man on this ship. Gunner mused. Except for maybe Ballsy. That bastard was long gone.

“I’m going forward,” one of them hissed and Gunner heard the telltale click of a chamber being loaded.

The pirate inched forward, his steps light but hardly silent. Gunner kept his back to the wall at the corner of the hallway. On the other side where the men converged was the elevator shaft he needed to get to. It shouldn’t have been hard, but he was still weak.

He didn’t count the blood loss or the dozen or so additional bullet wounds in his back as destabilizing him. He’d had limbs torn clean off, been ejected out into the hard vacuum of space, had a gun fired off in his mouth, and had survived it all. No, it was Ballsy's damn program weakening him, unlike anything ever had before.

As if he summoned it, another cellular electromagnetic pulse fired off, temporarily plunging him into blindness.

The man’s footfalls were mere yards away. A normal man wouldn’t hear him under the sirens. Gunner was far from normal.

Gunner let his hand drop and closed his eyes, drooping his head, feigning death.

The guard sucked in a sharp breath when he saw him.

“Well!?” one of the others demanded.

“He’s dead,” the man yelled over his shoulder. “I think he’s dead!”

“Check him!”

The moment he rounded the corner and was out of sight of his crewmates, Gunner lurched up and dragged him to the floor, pressing a hand to his mouth and crushing the bones of his wrist until the laser pistol was released. The pirate’s body jerked in surprise, and he stared up at him just as he succumbed to death.

“Hey! Is he dead?”

“Where’d he go?”

“I told that dumbass he was making a mistake. I told you that twat was waiting for us.”

Gunner pushed the body away from him after he peeled it out of its pants and tugged the undamaged gun strap off it. He slung the strap over his own shoulder and stuffed his legs into the ill-fitting trousers, dressing himself.

“What’re we going to do? Half the crew isn’t accounted for. We can’t get to the bridge from this side.”

Gunner smirked. And I can’t get to the goddamned brig. He jerked and twitched as another pulse rolled over him. His nanocells were busy fighting off this cybernetic disease, too busy to replenish his strength.

“We can retreat,” one of them mentioned. “Go down. Short circuit the elevator, or lay a trap. We can overpower him at close range if there’s nothing to shield him.”

Oh, fuck no.

“We’d be sitting ducks down there. Our best chance is going up, not down.”

“Our best fucking chance? We have no other chance!”

They argued.

Ely was down there. He wasn’t letting another man get close to her if he could help it. Gunner pushed himself from the wall, flinching as his flesh shifted and tore. Several more pulses went off, causing cascading lapses in his mainframe. The more he moved, the worse it got.

He dropped his gun but caught it before it hit the floor.

“We can get the prisoners on our side.” Elodie. “Tell them it’s a matter of survival.”

“Like hell that’ll work! What do you think those half-starved lumps can do? They know my face. I fried the balls off of one of them their first day.”

“We need one of the new recruits to convince them.”

Gunner edged closer to the corner, listening.

“If you haven’t looked around, they ain’t here, or they’re dead. I’d take my chances with one enemy, not several dozen. And if Juke comes out—”

“Juke ain’t coming out! Look, a patrol went down before all this happened, and that one fucker, the one that won’t stop talking—”

“Kallan?”

“Yeah, he’s down there. Maybe he can convince them.”

Gunner gritted his teeth. How’d he fucking let Kallan get by? The lech had a special place on his death list.

And I left Elodie down there with him.

“I don’t like the guy. He can’t be trusted.”

No fucking shit.

“What other choice we got? Even the fucking androids have been pulled back. If I get my hands on Juke...”

“I like the idea of having a shit-ton of metal between us and him.”

The men quieted down as if contemplating. Gunner skirted his eyes across the area around him. I can’t let them get to the elevator. He had noticed the androids withdrawing before, back when he sensed Ballsy leaving on an escape pod, but it hadn’t occurred to him why.

If he could get to them, he could control them, but they weren’t close and he was weak.

He eyed the second elevator shaft, the one that went up. I could go up and take the ship. Forget about the others. I’ve already been discovered. Juke would possibly know where his ship was.

The codes that ate away at the freighter's systems were still doing their job. Gunner knew that the captain had changed course—he just didn’t know to where. But if they were headed straight into enemy territory his job was going to get a hell of a lot harder.

I could go up and take over the ship... And hope that nothing happened to those below. Elodie wouldn’t have protection. But he would steer their course. If I did that, the rest of the pirate fleet would know.

Gunner spat out blood. No. It could take me hours, maybe days. It depended on what he was up against. Even if Ely remained safe, there would be no one to keep her and the other prisoners fed until he wrangled the androids.

He rubbed his gun over his brow. When did everything get so fucking complicated?

“Let’s go!” one of the pirates urged. He heard them move.

“Wait!” Gunner roared. It was the first time he’d spoken. “I don’t trust Kallan either. No one in the brig does.”

They stopped. “You can fucking hear us?” one asked.

“Obviously, dumbass. I heard you piss yourself when I started talking too. I’ll make a deal with you.” He inched out from behind the wall. The men ducked and watched from the other end, weapons raised. Two shots went off that missed him.

“Deal, my ass! You’ll just kill us.”

“Will I? I have a better idea.”

“And what’s that, you marked up twat? We’re not idiots.”

Sigh. “You’re alone. Three of you, I take it—don’t try and bluff me—I fucking know. Now listen!”  His systems flickered again. “Your captain’s holed up, and the security systems are fried. I can’t be contained, anywhere, at least not for long. I’ve had free reign of this ship the moment you brought me aboard.”

“Then why haven’t you taken over?”

“I don’t want this piece of shit. I want mine. Your captain took it and I will kill every single man, woman, and child who stands in my way to get it back.” He wouldn’t, but they didn’t need to know that. “We have something in common.”

The men quieted and glanced at each other, their faces half-shielded. He calculated the aim and distance for three consecutive headshots, three split-seconds of death, then another EMP went off and disrupted him.

“Juke,” one muttered. The strategic one.

“Juke,” Gunner concurred. “He left you out here to die, by my hand, and you will. You will die if you don’t join me or at least get out of my way.”

“If you’re so damn sure then why not turn around and finish the fucking job? The way to the bridge is behind you.”

“That’s just it.” His jaw ticked. God, this was embarrassing. But all he could think of was getting to Elodie. “I don’t want up, I want down. I need information. I need leverage.”

He was taking a risk.

One of the men lowered his weapon. “The cargo.”

“Yes.”

“They’ll just gas you out.”

“Who? As far as we all know, no one’s leaving the top-deck.”

“How do we know you won’t kill us?”

You don’t. “I have nothing to gain from killing you. Why waste my ammo? But if you take that lift down, you’re guaranteeing your own death. If you stay and fight, you’re guaranteeing your own death. Trusting me could go either way, but that’s still your best chance of survival.” Gunner tossed all of the blood-covered bullets he had pulled out of himself toward the pirates, enjoying their sickened faces as the slugs bounced off the metal floor. “I’ll give you my word. I’ll let you live if you let me by. And...”

“And?”

“When the time comes, I’ll give you the captain to kill.” Gunner raised his weapon sideways in a show of peace, then let it dangle from his finger, and slowly lowered it to the ground. The men watched him warily as he moved to the center of the aisle with nothing but their dead companion’s pants and the random weapons he’d collected. He kept his hands up and away from all of them.

Like hawks in the distance, they watched his every movement. He, in turn, calculated every outcome.

“And when this is over?” one of the pirates asked. “What happens then?”

“Fuck if I care, you can have this trash heap and all the cargo in the hold. Just not the prisoners, they’re mine. I’m sworn to protect them. I’ll swear to protect you too.”

They looked at each other. I almost have them.

Gunner was poised to take his chances and kill them when the smart one walked out. Another minute went by before a second man followed.

The third muttered, “Not worth it,” before he emerged too.

They closed the distance, meeting in the middle where most of the dead bodies were beginning to stiffen. It took everything in Gunner’s power to hide the short-circuiting constantly stabbing through his systems.

The pirates eyed the bullet holes littering his body with disbelief. “Who the hell are you?”

“A Cyborg employed by the EPED.”

“Damn. We never stood a chance.”

“No,” Gunner agreed.

“You swear you won’t kill us?” the last one asked.

Gunner’s face hardened as he pinned him with his eyes. “I will if you betray me.”

“What do we do now?”

Gunner turned and stormed past them, making a beeline for the elevator. “Whatever the fuck you want.”

They called after him. He heard the click of a gun. Shoot me in the back, I dare you. But it never came.

“That’s it?”

“Be ready,” he said.

***

HE RODE THE ELEVATOR down the shaft, leaning up against the wall. The blood that had coated the floor earlier had dried into a rusty smear at his feet. The ride couldn’t go fast enough. He hated large ships.

His was small, compact, and airtight. There wasn’t a place he couldn’t get to in less than five minutes. His ship was a god amongst ships, and his AI, APOLLO, was named for it. The Greek god of the sun. Speed. Light. His jackal hated the confinement but his other half loved it. He couldn’t please every part of himself all the time. That war, the war in his head, never ended.

Gunner dug another bullet out of his thigh as he waited, pinching the metal between his fingers until it flattened into a disc.

From the moment he opened his eyes, introduced to life for the first time, the two halves of his soul had been at odds. Staring out from inside a clear, crystalline vat, he warred. Sometimes he thought the only reason he didn’t go mad were the codes that denied it.

I got close.

So fucking close.

It had been its own kind of madness, when his logical side faltered and his animal took over completely. He had become the god Anubis reincarnated, with slitted red eyes and long pointed ears only bested in splendor by the points of his canines. He had set a Trentian planet ablaze, single-handedly taking control of one of their main bastions.

Gliese hadn’t always been ruled by humans. Not before he came along. And even now, after forty-eight years, portions of the planet remained uninhabitable.

The elevator door zipped open and Gunner narrowed his eyes. The bodies have been moved. He stepped out cautiously, scanning the area around him, his nostrils flaring and filling with new and familiar scents.

Ely. He shuddered and stormed past the corpses without another glance, pulling a gun from his strap. Her smell was thicker than it should’ve been. It drew him like a dog on a leash. A tether. The wracking pulses from the nanobots still coursed through him, but they were getting weaker and he ignored them.

There. The brig. The door was half-closed and the lights within the room were off. Voices. They were muffled.

Gunner inhaled again. Elodie. The prisoners. The decaying scents of the guards. Kallan. Even a lingering twinge of Royce. And others...

He rushed the door and slammed the panels the rest of the way open, breaking the metal without care.

“Ely,” he roared, already sensing her gone. The darkness hit him just as he switched to night vision. “Where is she?”

Gunner went to their cells but she wasn’t inside. Her door was open. “Where!?” His voice thundered.

The remaining prisoners scurried and rose as the reek of fear took hold. His own.

“She?” one man asked in puzzlement.

“She was taken out of here,” the man in the cell across from hers spoke up. Gunner didn’t turn around, his eyes burning a hole in the spot where he last saw her. Where he left her. Her safe place next to him at the bars.

“When?”

Metal crumpled in his fists. He willed her to materialize, already seeding what was left of his energy back into the systems, though he knew that it would do no good. Ballsy had fried all the relays connecting the security cameras to the mainframe.

“A couple of hours ago, more maybe, not long after the gunfire started.”

Gunfire. Hours ago. Before he had left the underbelly. The feel of tearing that pirate’s leg off came to mind, and he itched to feel it again.

Gunner turned slowly and approached the prisoner across the way. The man backed up. “Details!”

“Chesnik came back and freed him. Her. Is Ely really a woman?”

Chesnik. Her dad. The knowledge did little to calm him. “Then why is Kallan’s stench thick in the air?”

It was thicker than Elodie’s. They weren’t here at the same time. She left before he slithered through here.

“He was also here. He got angry when he found Ely wasn’t here. What the fuck? What’s happening?”

Gunner felt his teeth fall out, heard the tinging sound as they scattered at his feet. He tore a metal bar clean off and dragged it behind him as he approached the nearest android. But before his hand touched it, the jolt of another string of shocks brought him to his knees.

All he could see was red. First my ship. Now her. Slowly, bringing his hand up to connect with the android, he replayed what happened through its eyes.

She left with a strange man. Chesnik, he assumed. Good. Now I know which pirate I’m not allowed to kill. He copied the image to his personal storage. Ely and her father’s heights and builds were alike.

He was out the brig door and searching the next moment, forcing his body to press onward.

He went back to the lounge room and found nothing. His snout shifted, extending from his face, his beast taking a little more control. It liked the hunt.

Kallan was everywhere. Fresh, fresher than Elodie.

Where are they? Where is she?

A terrible vibration, a growl rose from the pit of his belly as he sought his target.

Gunner came back across the tampered bodies and this time he checked them over. The guns were gone. There were no footsteps leading from their pooled blood.

It had been avoided. The looting had been unhurried.

He rose up and pried the elevator doors back open with his hands, finding the scents weaker within, polluted with his own. They couldn’t have gone up. He would’ve known.

Then he caught it. A trail that led away and seemed to circle back.

The corridor he faced led to what most would consider a dead end; it led to the bowels of the ship, the machines that kept the crew supplied with breathable air, drinkable water, and all the other minutiae required for human survival. The parts of a spaceship that was all but off-limits except in case of emergency. It was too dangerous to be within when the machines were running. As far as the machines were concerned, the only distinction between recycled waste and a person was that one of the two had a name.

Behind him was the way to the storage containers. Kallan’s reek led that way, interlaced with drugs. Smoke. Kallan had taken full advantage of his new position as a crew member. Gunner lifted his head and his ear twitched. A noise came behind him and he twisted toward the storage units.

It’s where I would go.

But he didn’t take a step toward it. Elodie first? Or Kallan? Another viral blast flooded his core and his sense of smell reset. Kallan’s trail reignited before Elodie’s and he made up his mind.

Gunner moved swiftly and through the passageways opposite Ely’s scent, his soles digging into the dingy, grated floor. The sense of his target grew stronger and with it, his bloodlust. It was an allure he no longer cultivated but accepted. He could push his desires away, cloud his mind, but where was the fun in that?

Kallan’s fascination with Elodie made him Gunner’s number one target. If he was a better man, he’d convince himself that he was killing the opportunistic fuck for Elodie but he knew that wasn’t true. He hunted for his own pleasure.

He came upon a hatch, and like others he’d seen on the ship, it was locked by a personal access code. He smashed his fist into the tech while his mind flooded the systems. Within moments, the storage unit opened and Gunner entered. Large square and rectangular crates lined the dim, open space, each made with a variety of materials.

Stolen goods. His enemies’ acquisitions. A pirate’s treasure trove. He passed them by without a glance. He could hear Kallan now, the fear and stiffness overcoming the man’s body. He could sense the subtle shift in the shadows, his target hoping to hide from whoever approached.

“Kallan,” he taunted darkly, his fingers elongating. The scent of fear bloomed, filling his nose and caressing him like a lover. Gunner purposely walked past the place where his prey hid, allowing Kallan’s unease and restlessness to marinate. He circled back.

“I know you’re in here. I can hear you.” Another zip of Ballsy’s EMP virus shot through him. Gunner faced the corner where he sensed the prisoner-turned-pirate, hiding between two large crates where the dark was thickest in the room. Gunner stood, patient, his breath deepening into wolfish, wheezing pants. If there had been a light overhead, the silhouette he’d cast would be gaunt and hunched, half-poised to attack. But there were few lights strung about and so he remained a sentinel in the gloom.

He heard the click of a chamber being checked.

Minutes went by as Gunner waited for Kallan to peer around the crate’s corner to see if he was finally alone. To raise his weapon and check if the path was clear. To creep from the shadows and toward his own death.

The man had harassed Elodie, touched her against her will, and interrupted one too many conversations. I would’ve killed you in passing if you hadn’t come back.

For her. To sate your sick curiosity. Kallan and he were alike in that. All the more reason for him to die.

Movement, slow, deliberate, filled his ears; the brush of cloth and polyester against metal. His prey moved along the tiny gap between two crates one step at a time.

Kallan’s eyes met his the moment he appeared, freezing. Even in the dark, his bloodshot sclera was visible.

“Gunner,” Kallan swallowed sickly and backpedaled. “I want no trouble!” He tried to slink between the crates.

“No, you don’t!” Gunner shot forward and gripped Kallan by the neck, dragging him out into the open and tossing the man’s firearm to the ground contemptuously. He sank the protruding tips of his jackal claws into the clammy flesh of Kallan’s neck, feeling the blood blossom underneath them, enjoying its wet warmth. Soon to be cold.

Kallan sputtered and struggled. “I didn’t do anything!” he choked out. “There’s no sense in killing me! I came to break my boy out.” Noises bubbled up within Kallan’s tight throat, moving under Gunner’s palm.

“Is that so? Where’s your boy then? I was just in the brig.”

“Safe! In the back. I can show you!”

Gunner squeezed Kallan’s neck before releasing his hold. Kallan dropped and scurried away until his back hit the wall of a crate, hands clutching his throat.

“Lead me to him.” Gunner smirked. How far will the lies go? He knew Elodie wasn’t here. She’d never been in this space. Not a trace of her was present.

Kallan spat and rose to his feet, his eyes slitted and beady. “The pirates took your ship from you, same as me.” The man tried to change his angle.

“Lead me to Ely.”

“They don’t even have it onboard. The ship, I mean. You want your ship back, right?” He hissed, ignoring Gunner’s demand. “They have our ships somewhere else. I can find out where.”

Gunner’s smile twisted into a feral grin. “Oh?” Ballsy’s conversation replayed in his mind, and with it came another surge jolted through his mainframe. His jackal ears popped out of his head.

“T-they’re on their way to Elyria, but the rest of the fleet.” Kallan gulped, noticing his long, sharp ears. The outward metal mesh jittered, generating even more noise. “The rest of the fleet is elsewhere.”

“You’ve only told me what I already know. How does that help me get my ship?”

“I can find out where it is! We both want the same thing. We can work together. You need me!”

“Is that so?”

“Y-yes!”

Gunner cracked his neck. He had never wanted to work with someone less than he did Kallan. The jackal in him laughed, flashing his teeth and flaring the red glow of his eyes. “We can work together...if you show me to Ely.”

Kallan stammered, “Boy-o means nothing to us. H-he’s safe in the back but not needed.” He wiped his hand over his mouth. “We should move now and get the information. I saw the mutilated bodies.” Kallan checked him out. Gunner knew he was riddled with bullet wounds. Dried blood flaked from his body every time he moved. “They’ll be flooding the area soon, if we go now, we can ambush them... Together.”

“That’s not going to work for me.” Gunner took a step back. He was bored now.

“I can make it work. You’re not listening to me! I can get you what you want. What’re you doing?”

Another step back. It was time to end this. “Getting what I want.”

Kallan stiffened, head cocked to the side. His greasy hair fell over his shoulder in stringy masses. “You’re leaving?”

Gunner didn’t answer, instead he melted back into the shadows, and quieted his steps. He moved out of Kallan’s sight and stalked around to the back of the crates, listening to the stream of hissed curses his prey released. When the smell of fear began to dissipate and the thundering strums of the man’s heart lessened—when Kallan’s adrenaline hushed and a stressful sense of safety began to return—Gunner crept into the thin opening on the other side of the crates and waited for the man to return to his hiding hole.

That’s where Kallan met his gaze again, for the last time. Gunner savored the moment: the bright shock of Kallan’s terror, the predatory joy of prey caught, right before he pulled out his precious AutoMag and shot him in the head.