“Come here.” Odium drew his female to him once more, tucking her curves into his muscular form.
His female’s family was unlikely to be alive. That truth had emotionally damaged her, and he had been the being to relay it.
That jabbed at his heart.
But raising her hopes would’ve been cruel, would’ve increased her pain, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t tolerate that.
“We’ll to fly to Sabik Binaire and uncover the source of the distress signal.” He murmured that plan into her brown curls. She smelled of sunshine and him. “The sender might not be your sister, but they could be one of your kind. And they might need assistance.”
Returning to her manufacture planet would also put his female’s processors at ease. If they didn’t investigate the situation, she would always wonder who had sent the signal. That would cause her permanent damage.
He wouldn’t allow that to happen. His arms tightened around her.
“You’d agree to fly to Sabik Binaire?” She tilted her head back, gazed up at him. “Without knowing anything about my family, my kind, or my past?”
He studied her. She wanted to relay that information to him. “What do I need to process?”
She gazed at him for one, two, five heartbeats.
Her jaw jutted.
And he processed at that moment she meant to verbally push him away.
“I killed my parents.” Defiance sharped her voice.
She was daring him to reject her.
He would never do that. “How did you kill your parents? Did you shoot them between their eyes, plunge a dagger in their hearts, fly your freighter right through them, cutting their bodies into two?” He was intentionally harsh.
His female jerked back from him. “No. Never. I would never hurt them like that.” She took a ragged breath. “But I killed them all the same.”
“Tell me how you killed them.” He backed that request with the strength of a command.
Her lips parted.
“And tell me all of it.” Odium would hear everything she sought to relay to him. “Start with the incident where you lost your eye.”
She stared at him. “How did you know that was when I first fucked up?”
“I will determine if you fucked up.” He utilized her words. His overly self-critical mostly human wasn’t skilled at judging her own actions. “And you’re my female. I process more about you than you project.”
Her mechanical eye was a source of much of her trauma. Odium gazed at her beautiful face. He was 86.2359 percent certain about that.
His little warrior’s forehead furrowed. She said nothing.
“Tell me everything you deem pertinent.” He issued that order. “If you relay any half-truths to me, I’ll smack your ass.”
His female blinked once, twice. Her cheeks turned pink. The scent of her intensified.
Silence stretched.
He waited for her to be ready to speak, to share her past with him.
“You won’t like what you hear.” Her gaze lowered. “I’m not a good being.”
“That is for me to judge.” He forced himself to remain stern with her. Softness would make the task more difficult for his female.
She took a deep breath, held it, exhaled, took a deep breath, held it, exhaled.
He brushed her curls back from her beautiful face and stroked those short unruly locks.
She calmed.
And the relay of information began. “I had ten solar cycles when I lost my eye.” Her voice was barely audible. “I was walking home from the academy with my best friend, Therese. We were chattering happily about a large winged insect I’d seen during the final break of the planet rotation when a predator jumped out from between the trees. It was huge, had big, glistening, white teeth, long claws on its paws, and it snarled at us.” Her body shook.
Odium felt her fear, and that shredded him. He ran his hands over her body, seeking to calm her, soothe her.
“We both screamed.” The words spilled quickly from his female’s lips. “I pushed Therese off the path, into the foliage, but I acted too slowly, was unable to save myself.”
His lips flattened. His female illogically bore full responsibility for a situation no one could’ve predicted.
“The beast attacked me, ripping and biting at my face, at my form.” She touched her marred cheek. “My friend ran away. I assumed she went to get help. But she never returned.” That had damaged his female also. He heard that in her words. “After what seemed like forever, my father heard my screams. He shot the creature, then carried me to the medic bay.”
Odium ached for his mostly human, for the pain she must have suffered.
She could have died. He could have lost her.
“You survived the attack.” He said that for her and for him, verbally reassuring himself that she was alive, was with him.
“I survived the attack.” His female’s head dipped. “And I healed. But in my culture, eyes are viewed as portals to our souls. A wild creature had destroyed one of mine, and that made beings in the settlement…uneasy.”
Uneasy humans were dangerous humans. Odium processed that truth. “Many beings believe cyborgs are machines.”
He and his brethren had been treated as killing tools by the Humanoid Alliance. They were utilized, and when some of the earlier models were deemed to be obsolete, they were slated for decommissioning, killed in the most painful ways possible, stripped of their reusable parts.
“Machines don’t have souls.” He kissed her forehead.
“You have a soul, my warrior.” The certainty in his female’s voice warmed his chest. “And I have a soul also. I’ve never fuckin’ doubted that. But others did doubt it. Unfortunately.”
She sighed. That sad sound pulled at his heart.
“My parents saved credits for an entire solar cycle. Then they sent me to medics off-planet.” His mostly human traced the contours of his body armor with her fingertips. “The medic erased my scars and replaced my eye. I could see again on that side. Better than I previously could. But the mechanical eye unsettled beings. More than my empty eye socket had upset them.” Her tone relayed her confusion, her hurt, over that reaction. “Whispers swirled about me. My eye was evil. I was evil. Beings became more and more brazen with their comments, with their actions. They called me a demon, spat in my face. My friends abandoned me. My parents argued when they thought I wasn’t listening. It was awful.”
Anger coursed through Odium’s circuits.
She’d been a precious offspring, easily breakable, requiring their protection. And she’d been damaged by the predator attack.
Yet those beings had targeted her with their hatred, with their fear of the not-yet-processed.
He would trade everything he had for the ability to go back in time and safeguard his fragile mostly human from her assailants.
“One planet rotation, I was walking home alone.” She gazed up at him. “I hadn’t any friends at that point, and my siblings were busy with other things.”
His female’s family had been careless with her lifespan. Odium pressed his lips together. They were unworthy of her.
“A male attacked me.” His female curled into a ball on his lap.
That was a defensive pose. She was seeking to safeguard herself from her memories.
Odium folded his body around hers. He would reinforce her emotional and physical defenses, shield his mostly human from all harm, visible and unseen.
“That male was Therese’s father.” The shock over the identity of her assailant reverberated in her voice. “He was the father of the friend I previously mentioned, the one who ran off when I was being mauled.”
That entire family lacked honor. Odium’s fingers splayed over his female’s form.
“Therese’s father clutched a dagger in his right hand.” Her words quickened. “He struck me again and again, carving the blade into my face, trying to gouge out my mechanical eyeball, all the time shouting that I was evil, I had to be destroyed. The blood. His breath. The pain.”
Odium’s female shuddered violently against him.
“You’re safe.” He murmured that message into her hair, held her tight against him. “You’re with me. You are mine. I won’t allow anyone to damage you.”
Moments passed. He repeated his assurances, clasped his female to him.
Her shaking eased.
“My father came to my defense yet again.” His strong female continued her communication. “He pulled Therese’s father off me and carried me home. The trek seemed endless. I was bleeding badly, and my father wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t speak to me. He was so angry and I knew.” She took a deep breath. “I knew in my heart he blamed me for the attack.”
“You were an offspring.” Odium was outraged. Offspring were to be safeguarded.
“I had eleven solar cycles.” She said that as though it made a difference.
It didn’t alter his perception of the situation. Cyborg offspring matured within one solar cycle. Humans were fully mature in eighteen.
She had been an offspring. And she’d been attacked by the enemy.
His female warranted kindness, not condemnation.
“The reception at home wasn’t much different. My mother barely spoke to me as she tended to my wounds.” His female touched her face. “The next sunrise, I was placed on a freighter that was slated to leave the planet. My father told me to retrieve a handheld from inside the vessel. When I tried to exit, the doors were locked. My parents were gone. They didn’t even say good-bye to me.” Emotional damage wrapped around her words. “The captain, a kind-yet-gruff female nearing the end of her lifespan, explained to me that I was now her trainee, and I was unlikely to ever return home.”
The captain shouldn’t have been the being to relay that information. Odium pressed his lips together, sealing his anger on his female’s behalf inside him. The parents should’ve been the beings to explain his female’s new role. They should’ve said farewell to her.
“I tried to contact my family…for solar cycles. They never accepted my communications.” His female placed one of her palms on his body armor-clad left pec, above his heart. “So I tracked them through a shared database. It was maintained by the biggest gossip in the settlement, and everything about everyone was posted there in minute detail. I saw images of my mother, my father, my siblings, watched footage of my siblings’ life bonding ceremonies, their new domiciles, the births of their children. It was almost like being there.” She paused. “Almost.”
The wistfulness in her voice conveyed to him it was nothing like being there.
“When I heard the Humanoid Alliance was targeting Sabik Binaire, part of me was selfishly, shamefully happy.” His female’s hands flexed against him. “I figured that the enemy would destroy one of the larger settlements first. My family would get scared and contact me. I had inherited the freighter. They would need transport off the planet, would ask me to take them to safety.”
Odium’s food processing system twisted. “They didn’t contact you.”
“They contacted me.” Her fingers curled into tight fists. “But by then, it was too late for me to help them. The Humanoid Alliance had coordinated their attacks, bombed all the settlements at the same time. I could hear the missiles hitting domiciles as my mother screamed for help. I flew as fast as I could. When I got finally there, the Humanoid Alliance had flattened every structure. There were bodies everywhere. My father, my mother—” Her voice broke.
“They were dead.” He said the words for her.
“Yeah.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “Everyone was fuckin’ dead. Or so I thought.” She looked up at him. “I didn’t have time to look for my sister. Humanoid Alliance ships approached the settlement soon after I landed, and I had to leave or risk being killed.”
Odium brushed the wetness off her skin with his fingertips. “My female—”
“I know. I know. The odds of her surviving are low, but it might be possible.” She clung to hope. “I might not’ve killed them all.”
“You didn’t kill your family, my female.” He bracketed her face with his palms, wanting her to process that, to forgive herself.
“I knew the Humanoid Alliance would attack Sabik Binaire.” His stubborn female refused to discard the responsibility for her family’s fates. “I should’ve immediately flown home, should’ve begged them to flee with me to safety. That’s what someone honorable and selfless would’ve done.” She met his gaze. “That’s what you would’ve done.”
She was correct. If he had intel the enemy was targeting his brethren, he would’ve tried to save them.
And there was a 0.0000 percent probability he would’ve left them trapped in an underground storage space as Power, his Leader’s warrior, had done.
Odium hardened his jaw.
But his female’s relationship with her family had been…complicated. “Would your parents have left their planet based on your words alone?”
His female paused for one telling moment. “They might’ve done that.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Okay. No. My mother wouldn’t have left her home, not until the missiles started falling.” His female relented. “She loved that domicile. And my father loved her. He wouldn’t have gotten into the freighter without her. But when the Humanoid Alliance arrived, I would’ve been there. I would’ve been closer to them.”
“Your freighter and the other ships in the settlement would’ve been the first targets the Humanoid Alliance hit.” Odium processed how his manufacturers operated. “You would’ve been trapped on the ground, unable to assist anyone. There’s a 98.2569 percent probability you would’ve died with your family.”
And he would’ve never met her. He would’ve spent his long lifespan alone. That prospect tormented him.
Her bottom lip curled. “But—”
“Are you questioning your warrior?” He frowned at her.
“No.” The but was unsaid.
He detected that in her voice. “You couldn’t have changed your parents’ fates.” He emphasized that truth, seeking to delete some of his female’s guilt. “You could have said your good-byes. You could have told them how you felt before they died.”
She hung her head.
He cupped her chin, lifted her gaze once more to meet his. “Your parents could’ve said their good-byes also.” Mistakes had been made on both sides. “But, judging by their actions in the past, that wasn’t their way.”
“That wasn’t their way.” She stared at him.
He waited for her to fully process his statement.
“Fuck.” His female’s jaw dropped. “When my parents left me with Captain, when they didn’t say good-bye, I thought it was my fault. I thought they were punishing me, were disappointed in me. But not saying good-bye might’ve merely been their way.”
“It might’ve merely been their way.” He nodded. That didn’t excuse the parents’ behavior, but the explanation appeared to ease his female’s emotional damage.
She unfurled herself from the tight little ball she’d contorted herself into and draped her legs over his. Odium skimmed his hands over her lush curves, surveying her body with his fingertips, physically ensuring himself she was fully functioning, was undamaged.
“I was angry and hurt for a long time.” His female cuddled against him. “But I never stopped loving my family. That’s what I would’ve said to my parents and what I’ll say to my sister if she is amongst the survivors.”
He envied her family, wanted her to feel the human love emotion for him also.
They had an almost endless lifespan ahead of them. There was time to be worthy of his female’s caring, to earn all of her trust.
He touched her.
Moments passed.
His female relaxed more and more. Her breathing slowed.
“Rest, my mostly human.” He kissed her lowering eyelids. “We’ll leave at sunrise.”
“Thank you, my warrior”—her voice was drowsy—“for not rejecting me.”
His heart hurt for his female. “I would never reject you.” He strapped his arms around her, securing her to him. “I might reprimand you, but I would never reject you.”
Her lips lifted into a small smile.
While his female slept, Odium inserted cables into his wrist sockets and restored his energy levels. He then informed Lore, their leader’s second in command, of their upcoming departure, and he organized a delivery of supplies to the freighter.
His clever mostly human had already stored nourishment bars and other essentials in the vessel. She was prepared to leave the planet without much warning, and he approved of that stance.
The additional supplies would allow them to prolong their stay on Sabik Binaire.
“The probability your sister has survived is low.” He tidied his sleeping female with a cleansing cloth. “Don’t emotionally damage yourself if she didn’t overcome those odds.”
Giving that advice to her while she was awake was futile. His mostly human already had her heart set on reconciling with a member of her family.
He would be positioned by her side when the identity of the being who sent the distress signal was revealed.
Do you want me to load the supplies also? Torque contacted him at sunrise through the transmission lines. His tone was sarcastic.
I’m coming out. Odium lifted his female high against his chest, eased to his booted feet, set her gently on her captain’s chair, and quickly exited the freighter.
“I added a pack stuffed with materials to fabricate explosives.” His friend grinned at him. “You can never project when you’ll need to blow something up.”
“This is a rescue mission.” Odium opened the cargo hold.
“During your female’s previous rescue mission, we destroyed two Humanoid Alliance warships.” Torque transferred the pack to the vessel. “You might need more explosives.” He chuckled.
His friend had a point. Odium huffed as they filled the cargo hold.
“Lore has assigned me to the sector-defense project.” Torque’s eyes gleamed. “My role is testing the prototype satellite’s missiles.”
“You’re blowing things up.” Odium was happy for his friend. The warrior enjoyed blasting objects to bits.
“I convinced Lore the tests should be as realistic as possible. We’re hauling scrapped ships to the border.” Torque tossed the last container of nourishment bars into the freighter. “The destruction will be off the charts.”
“Transmit that footage to me.” Odium closed the cargo hold.
“I’ll do that.” His friend paused. “Do you need another warrior on your mission? Because I could join you. My first loyalty will always be to you.”
Odium was touched that the warrior would give up his fun to help him. “My female, in the past, flew these missions on her own.” That would never happen again. “The two of us should be sufficient.” His voice was gruff with emotion. “Your first loyalty should be to Eirene Ours, our leader.”
“Eirene Ours saved us from that fraggin’ underground structure.” Torque had hated their imprisonment as much as Odium had. “But you kept us alive all those solar cycles. You will always have my loyalty, my friend.”
Odium’s chest expanded with pride. Warriors didn’t issue statements like that lightly. “Test the sector’s defenses. That will safeguard all of us.” Including his female.
“I’ll do that.” Torque nodded. “And I’ll retrieve more weapons for you and your female now. While I’m gone, keep your freighter in your sightlines.” He walked away. “Or you’ll gain a stowaway.”
His friend had sensed the Praecipuan’s approach also.
“You’re planning a trip?” Mohini’s eyes lit with interest.
“We’re traveling in the opposite direction from Keid 9.” Odium gazed at her. “If you won’t be here when we return, say good-bye to my female.”
His mostly human would be hurt if she was left without a word yet again.
“I hope not to be here.” The humanoid studied him. “Briella doesn’t think she deserves you. I thought the opposite was true—you don’t deserve her. I’m happy to say I might be wrong about that.” She smiled. “Take care of my friend, cyborg. She has a soft heart. Don’t break it.”
Odium didn’t require that advice, but he recognized the compliment the Praecipuan had given him.
His head dipped. He would never damage his female’s soft heart.
“Briella.” Mohini yelled his female’s name. “If you don’t come out soon, I’m stealing your ship.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Odium’s mostly human staggered out of the freighter. Her curls were mussed, and her flight suit was partially unfastened. She appeared adorably disheveled. “I don’t know how you plan to steal my ship with me sitting in the captain’s chair, but I’m here. Whatcha want?”
“I want to say good-bye.” Mohini flicked a glance at Odium. “I hear you’re taking a trip.”
“You want to say good-bye.” His female’s eyes gained a suspicious sheen. “That’s…that’s…”
“That’s the caring you warrant, my female.” Emotion roughened Odium’s voice.
He would ensure she was always treated with that level of kindness.