Authors: Cynthia Sax
“You’re the superior warrior?” Menace scoffed. “Are your processors malfunctioning?”
They must be. I’m communicating with you.
He switched the conversation to their private transmission line and scanned the area around them.
It was devoid of lifeforms.
Glaring white sand blew around giant boulders of the same color. The sun shone down on them. The sky was the cloudless blue of infinite possibilities.
Imee hadn’t yet arrived. Mayhem sucked back his disappointment. They’d landed the ship an easy cyborg run away from the settlement, trying to hide their sole means of off-planet transportation in the middle of four massive rock formations.
Those precautions hadn’t worked. Kralj had somehow located them.
Mayhem glanced at Menace. Their foe was unknown and that increased the danger of the mission.
Kralj accessed our systems. He knew things we didn’t share with him. He’s not a simple humanoid. Conceal your footprints and pay attention to your surroundings
.
Menace dipped his head.
Be as wary, my friend.
The warrior jogged away from him, slowly accelerating.
He might not be expecting me but he IS expecting you to be here and he
knows this terrain.
The warrior disappeared from view, moving at cyborg speed through a narrow corridor of stone leading in and out of the space.
That was the only opening. If it were blocked, they could climb the rock, go over that natural barrier. They were cyborgs. Humans couldn’t scale it, not unaided.
Mayhem would keep the passageway open for Imee. He placed sensors around the ship, activating a containment field few could penetrate.
Imee was his female, the one being capable of bearing his offspring. But their genetic compatibility wouldn’t earn him her loyalty, her respect, her love. She was an unknown and could be as dangerous, as deadly as Kralj, the being she served.
Mayhem would observe her before he made her aware of his presence.
And he would have some fun with his female. He stepped heavily in the sand, walking from the containment field near the ship’s ramp to one of the rock facings. Then he concealed the rest of the footprints.
He laughed softly to himself. She’d think he had disappeared into the stone.
He slid into a shadowed crevice in one of the other rocks and waited.
* * *
His female was in no rush to meet with him. The blazing hot sun had moved to the midpoint of the sky before she arrived.
He heard the hum of an engine in the distance. The sound faded too soon. His cautious female must have abandoned her transport far from the opening.
A scent drifted on the breeze, the most delectable aroma he’d ever experienced. Mayhem gulped mouthfuls of air, drawing her musk into his lungs. Frag. His cock was as hard as a dagger, pressing against his body armor.
No breeding, he reminded himself.
They would have an almost endless lifespan to enjoy each other physically. There wouldn’t be much else to do while they were trapped on the Homeland, protected to the point of boredom.
First, he’d enjoy himself, see the galaxy, face unknown opponents, be free.
After he’d satisfied his curiosity about his female.
Sand crunched, Imee’s tread light yet detectable. What would she look like? Mayhem craned his neck, watching the opening. Energy coursed through his circuits.
There was a glimpse of white, a brim of a head covering, the curve of fabric stretched over rounded metal. A helmet poked out of the shadows. It wasn’t very high off the ground. His female was short.
The helmet didn’t move.
Moments stretched.
The helmet shook once, twice, the action unnatural.
It moved farther out of the passageway. Sunlight reflected off the barrel of a long gun.
The helmet was a decoy, designed to determine if he’d shoot at her. Mayhem grinned. She was clever and he couldn’t resist having more fun with her.
He sprinted across the sand, darting from patch of shade to patch of shade. The helmet didn’t move, his female unaware of his approach. He snatched the headgear from its perch on top of the long gun, dropped it three strides away from the passageway, and then ran back to his crevice.
The gun withdrew. “What happened?” Imee’s sweet voice was edged with bewilderment. “Where did my helmet go?”
She peeked out of her hiding place and Mayhem sucked in his breath.
His female was stunning, more beautiful than anyone or anything he’d ever seen. She had uniquely shaped brown eyes, her eyelids lacking the useless crease his had. Her skin was golden and glistened with a layer of sweat, her thermoregulation system not as efficient as a cyborg’s. Her hair was as straight as a thrown spear and as black as open space. A long scar carved her left cheek in two. RET56927 was inked under her right eye.
She wasn’t a cyborg. He’d be able to detect that.
But she had been the property of the Humanoid Alliance. His scan revealed one of their tracking devices in her right wrist.
Mayhem ran the numbering sequence through his database.
His nose wrinkled at the distasteful results.
His female was a Retriever. She did the Humanoid Alliance’s dirty work, hunting down and capturing rebels, beings such as himself, males, females, offspring who had thought themselves finally free of tyranny, of torture, of other being’s rules.
Those rebels would be sentenced to death, sent to the cyborg manufacturing compounds and used as part of that harsh training. His brethren would be forced to kill them, to battle the humanoids in the fighting rings.
Imee was the enemy, a being without loyalty or honor.
She was his female, Mayhem reminded himself. When he chose to claim her, her past wouldn’t matter. He’d take her back to the cyborg Homeland and neither of them would ever leave.
She’d never again associate with the Humanoid Alliance. He’d never again explore unknown terrain, never battle another warrior to the death.
That safe, uneventful future depressed him.
For now, they were both free, on a strange planet, facing one another as possible foes, not as a male and his female. Mayhem would enjoy his remaining moments to the fullest, delay the inevitable for as long as possible.
Imee glanced at the helmet he’d set on the sand, looked in his direction, and squinted. Although she couldn’t see him—her human vision was inadequate to pierce the darkness— she felt his presence.
Satisfaction warmed Mayhem’s soul. Imee would experience that awareness with no other male. She’d remember it and wouldn’t be tempted to breed with others while they were parted. Humans weren’t monogamous as cyborgs were.
The thought of her touching another male disturbed him. It was one of the only possible holes in his plan.
“They couldn’t have moved it,” she murmured, her words spoken at a softness no human could detect. “Could they?”
Mayhem heard her but he didn’t answer her question. He waited for her next move, for her to come to him, to track him.
Imee cautiously stepped out of the corridor of stone, revealing her entire body, and his big cyborg heart pounded. She was diminutive yet sturdy, a sheath-sized stunner.
All of the females the other cyborgs had claimed were tiny. They were human. But they’d appear tall, standing next to his female. She barely reached midway on his chest.
Imee wasn’t inconsequential, however. Far from that. She had broad shoulders and equally wide hips, muscular arms and legs. Between her white leather breast and ass coverings was a bared toned stomach, the exposed golden skin decorated with small silver scars, the firmness of her midsection contrasting intriguingly with her high full breasts.
She was armed, guns on both hips, daggers in her knee-high boots, at least one more blade hidden in her breast covering. Restraints dangled from her waist. A long gun was held in her right hand.
Mayhem liked that. She was a fighter. When he claimed her, she’d understand him, challenge him, perhaps provide some much needed excitement during their captivity on the Homeland.
She certainly was adding excitement to his lifespan now.
Imee approached the helmet, gazed around her, scrunched her nose. Her fingers rested on the trigger of the long gun. She pushed the helmet with the barrel, stepped back, raised the long gun.
When nothing happened, she rolled, scooped up the helmet, put it back on her head as she stood once more, her booted feet braced apart, her knees slightly bent.
His female was ready to face danger.
Mayhem’s lips curled upward.
He was eager to supply it.
Chapter Two
Imee tightened her grip on her long gun. Sand shifted around her booted feet. Awareness skittered down her spine.
She was being watched.
By at least one of the males. She’d sensed his presence as soon as she’d arrived at the landing site, her physical reaction to him disturbingly intense. Her nipples had grown taut, pressing against her leather chest covering. Her pussy had become wet, needy.
She desired him. Imee snorted softly, disgusted with herself. Her feelings wouldn’t change their relationship. It couldn’t.
She was a Retriever and the male stalking her was her target. He could be nothing more. She’d capture him, return him to the Humanoid Alliance, collect the credit.
Keep her family safe, perhaps earn the right to see them.
She was their only hope. Their planet had been conquered by the Humanoid Alliance when she had twelve solar cycles, her dad losing his life in that invasion.
She’d been strong for her age. That increased her odds of meeting quota. She’d also been female. The Humanoid Alliance deemed her gender as being psychologically weaker and easier to emotionally manipulate.
They had made her watch as they brutally tortured and executed her neighbors, friends, extended family. Imee had pleaded for mercy with each kill, each victim.
Nothing stopped them.
The worst death had been Cheskka’s. Her cousin had seen only two solar cycles and could barely string three words together.
That hadn’t saved her from the torture. The Humanoid Alliance males had sliced her cousin’s face into strips. Every flash of their daggers had drawn screams from the child’s throat. Blood had dripped down Cheskka’s neck, soaked her garments.
The abuse had lasted a full planet rotation until she bled out.
The Humanoid Alliance males had dumped Cheskka’s lifeless body in a mass grave, a giant hole in the ground filled with Imee’s loved ones, and then they had redirected their evil to another rebel. The torture, the killing had gone on and on.
Imee became crazed with grief, sick to her stomach, ready to agree to anything.
That was when they offered her a deal—retrieve rebels for the Humanoid Alliance and her beloved mom, her younger sister Jae, and her baby brother Geo would be spared.
They’d live.
As long as she retrieved her quota of rebels, all three of them would be safe, cared for, guarded on an administrative station far from any fighting.
If she failed, they would die.
That couldn’t happen.
No emotion
.
They are targets, not beings
. Imee pushed away her distracting arousal and mentally recited the rules her mentor Kralj had taught her. Concentrate on retrieving them, capturing them.
“I’m to escort you to the Refuge.” Her declaration echoed off the walls of rock. Once Kralj, the leader of that settlement, granted her permission, she’d return the two males to the Humanoid Alliance, collect her credits.
“I won’t be entering the Refuge.” The mystery male’s low deep voice skittered down her spine and coiled within her womb.
He was the one watching her. She knew that in her gut. Where was the other one?
Imee stared in the male’s direction, unable to see anything. “You have to accompany me.”
“I’m free. I no longer
have
to do anything.”
“I’m not giving you a choice.” She lifted her long gun.
One moment, she was holding the weapon. The next moment, her hands were empty.
“What happened?” All she’d seen was a blur, large, dark, moving quickly, and then nothing. He’d disappeared, fading back into the shadows, taking her gun with him. “Who are you?”
The male chuckled, the sound making her stomach flutter. “Others call me Mayhem. You may call me your male.”
“You’re not my male.” And she wouldn’t ever use his name.
That was another one of Kralj’s rules. Don’t call targets by their names. View them as anonymous beings. That made sending them to their deaths easier.
“
What
are you?” She wanted to know the type of being she was facing.
“Before the sun sets, I’ll hear my name on your sweet lips.” He ignored her question, issuing her a challenge.
It was a challenge she’d win.
“That won’t happen.” She glanced to the left and to the right, seeing nothing except sand, shadow, and white rock. “Where is the other male?”
“He’s not for you.”
“
You’re
not for me.” Imee rolled her eyes. “Kralj insists I escort the two of you to the Refuge. The other male--”
“Isn’t here.”
Then the other male was dead. No being disobeyed her mentor and lived to talk about it. “Kralj will see that as a sign of disrespect.” Disrespect was contagious, her mentor often told her. It couldn’t be tolerated. “He’ll kill your friend.”
“He’ll try to.” The male, her sole remaining target, didn’t sound concerned. “Menace isn’t easy to kill.”
Her target and his soon-to-be-dead friend were called Mayhem and Menace. What species had their skills and that type of naming convention? Imee dredged the depths of her memories. No species she’d been exposed to fit those perimeters.
“You don’t know whom you’re dealing with,” she cautioned.
If he mouthed off to Kralj, he’d die also and a dead target wasn’t worth anything to the Humanoid Alliance. She’d earn no credits by returning a corpse. Imee had learned that the first solar cycle.
“I’m not scared of your Kralj.” Her target scoffed at her warning.