Medeus reclaimed the command chair with a sense of satisfaction. He would have to give it up again, of course, but he was humble enough to admit—if only to himself—that he felt more comfortable in that chair than anyplace else in the universe. It didn’t really matter that it was an old, dilapidated command chair. It was the nerve center of the ship, and right now, any ship made Medeus feel more at home. Even an old cargo hauler.
Everything about his life—his former life—had almost been erased. Subsumed by the CCS implanted in his head. He shuddered to think that he had almost lost everything about himself. Everything that made him the man he had been. The unique individual, different from the other cyborgs, not just one in a very long line of men who had been repaired against their will.
All cyborgs were supposed to be interchangeable. They had different parts depending on their original injuries and the needs of the service at the time they were rebuilt, but essentially, they were just machines—one very much like the other. But, of all the cyborgs on the ship, Medeus was the only one who had been a fleet commander.
There were others of higher rank, of course, but those had been among the ground troops. There were three pilots, who now occupied the helm station in rotation. There were others who had been on ships in varying capacities. But only one fleet commander. Only one who remembered how it had been to be in charge of not only his warship, but an entire fleet of them.
Medeus knew he would never command a fleet, again. For now, just having this one ship under his control steadied him. It gave him comfort, when there was little to be had in the situation. Everything he had ever known had been wiped away, but it was starting to come back to him in brief glimpses, and being on the bridge, in the chair, made it possible to retain most of his equilibrium. Without the command chair to prop him up, he was very much afraid he’d be a blubbering mess over what had been done to him as the memories came flooding back.
It had already been decided that Cordelia would lead a small delegation that would leave the ship when they docked at the orbital station. Billie and Roxy were going with her for the first contact. Other women would be allowed to leave the ship to conduct trading business, once it was deemed safe. They were also going to let others leave the ship altogether, if they wished, but that would be the last group to go, once trading had been concluded.
They wouldn’t leave anyone in the lurch, but by the same token, they had agreed it would be bad for business if any truly unhappy folks started badmouthing the ship and its crew before they’d attained the trade goods they needed. The welfare of the ship had to come first because the vast majority of those aboard wanted to keep going with the cyborgs, who they believed could keep them safer than anyone else if the war was truly on again all over the galaxy.
A few had felt strongly about checking out the colony and leaving if it looked at all hospitable. Mostly, it was a few mothers with young children, who wanted a more stable environment for their offspring.
Personally, Billie had decided that she and Sam would stay with the ship. She was a navigator. Or, at least, she was halfway to her professional certification. She had dreamed of being where she was now—at the nav station of a ship. Any kind of ship. She wouldn’t trade this experience for anything, and she also believed—like many others—that the cyborgs were the best companions to have in these uncertain times. She truly believed that Sam and she had a better chance of survival in this time of war if they were with the cyborgs.
The fact that they were remembering who they had been only made her feel safer with them. If any place could be truly safe with the jits on the prowl once more. The cyborgs were at least human. Or, they had been. They remembered their former lives, and that made her feel both more secure with them and sorry for them. She knew they carried heavy emotional burdens, but none of them seemed to let that get in the way of the task at hand. Namely, protecting civilians aboard and finding refuge for them.
Billie walked slightly behind Cordelia, letting her lead the way out of the ship, into the docking area. Cordelia was supposed to be the captain, after all. Billie and Roxy walked side by side, after her.
There was a delegation made up mostly of women, surprisingly, waiting for them. The older, gray-haired woman they had spoken to over the comm seemed to be in charge, leading the small delegation. There was also a younger woman who looked enough like the old lady to be her granddaughter, and a young male who looked like he wasn’t old enough to shave, yet.
“I’m Amelia Aziner,” the old woman announced, making Billie start a little, though she did her best to hide her reaction. “My granddaughter, Elizabeth, and grandson, Bartholomeu.”
Cordelia nodded respectfully. “Cordelia Renquist,” she replied smartly. “And this is Billie Latimer and Roxanne Abernathy. Thank you for meeting with us.”
“I’m duty bound to inform you that no one else will be allowed to leave your ship until we’ve established rules for your visit, and your identities. We also want to hear your story about Eagle Nest Station. Perhaps we could adjourn to the lounge…” Amelia gestured toward a grouping of soft chairs and a sofa behind a transparent wall off to one side of the dock access.
“By all means,” Cordelia agreed, walking with Amelia toward the doorway that slid aside at their approach.
Billie followed, with Roxy beside her, though she noticed a few well-armed security people—again, mostly women and very young men—standing guard immediately outside the dockside access area.
They arrived in the lounge, and Amelia went to a small desk that pushed out from one wall. “Let’s get the formalities out of the way first. We’ll do the identity checks here, and then we can get down to business.”
“Certainly,” Cordelia replied with a businesslike smile as she presented her arm, with its implanted identity chip, to the scanner.
Amelia watched the results come up on her screen and nodded. “Cordelia Renquist.” She nodded. “You were very high up in the admin of the station,” Amelia said, sounding impressed. “Why’d they leave you behind?”
“I objected when the administrators bailed out, fully intending to leave a large percentage of the human population behind, to fend for themselves.” Cordelia shrugged and moved aside for Roxy to offer her indent chip.
Amelia hummed over Roxanne’s record. She had been a chief engineer and drives mechanic for a while, and that was all in her permanent record, which every citizen carried around on the chip implanted at birth and upgraded many times over the years as they grew. New data was added to the ident chips by stations like this one. In fact, this station would be adding their stop at Aziner Colony to their permanent records, as well. The ident chip was used for medical records, travel documentation, criminal notations, legal proceedings, and a host of other things.
“This doesn’t list you as chief engineer of the Tobias Bay,” Amelia mused as she perused Roxy’s identity.
“It’s a new position, and it wasn’t attained in the regular way,” Roxy said with an ironic grin.
“I suppose not,” Amelia allowed as Roxy moved away for Billie’s turn.
Billie placed her arm under the scanner and waited.
“You’re not licensed yet, are you?” Amelia commented as Billie shrugged.
“I was halfway through my formal training. The academy ship took off without me and my little brother.” It was no less than the truth. Billie had been abandoned by those she had trusted with her education. “But I come from a nav family. My dad and brother were both military navigators. I learned more from them than I did from the academy.”
Amelia nodded. “We value family knowledge here,” she said. Billie really didn’t know what she meant, but the fact that she was accompanied by her grandson and granddaughter might have something to do with it.
Amelia shut off the scanner and allowed the small device and its little desk to withdraw back into the wall. She then moved to take her seat, facing the three women from the ship.
“We are a small colony,” Amelia began. “We are definitely interested in trade, based on the manifest you sent ahead.”
“That’s good to hear,” Cordelia began, but Amelia held up one hand to forestall her words.
“First, however, I’d like to hear more about how the station was overrun. We haven’t heard much, but the reports from the outer systems are troubling.”
Billie knew that the cyborgs were busy infiltrating the colony’s network even as they spoke, trying to learn as much as they could about the situation in the wider galaxy. Any news the colony had received would soon be in the hands of the cyborgs aboard the Toby.
Cordelia spent a few minutes recounting the tale of Eagle Nest Station’s siege, surrender, and evacuation for the colonists. When she was done, Amelia questioned both Roxy and Billie about what they had seen. When she was satisfied, she sat back and seemed to think for a moment, then she spoke.
“Since you were probably wondering, but too polite to ask, I am a direct descendant of the colony financier. My branch of the family came out later, wanting to be a part of old Henry’s dream. It worked out well for us until the slavers started operating in our system.”
“Slavers?” Billie can help herself. She was shocked.
Amelia merely nodded. “All the younger folk have been spirited away, leaving only the old and young, and any woman not strong or pretty enough to be of value.”
“That’s outrageous!” Cordelia said, bristling with indignation on the colonists’ behalf.
“It is what it is,” Amelia said philosophically. “The first raids took place about two years ago and escalated for a time, then stopped. All our efforts since then have been directed toward survival and preparing, in case they return.”
“If there’s anything we can do—” Cordelia began, but Amelia waved her off with a tired expression.
“A ship full of women? Refugees? I don’t think there’s anything you can really do for us, except trade. And we’re glad of that. I could wish you had more useful items in your holds—weapons, for example—but we’re glad enough for a peaceful visit and the chance to trade with anyone. The slavers, or pirates, or whatever they are, seem to have interdicted the system, and we haven’t seen any trade ships since the last raid.”
Billie began to get an idea, but they’d have to talk it over first, before she said anything. Surely, the cyborgs could do something?
“I see,” Cordelia said diplomatically. “For now, perhaps we should just start with trade. We are interested in the standard provisions, though we’re all set for water, so that’s not an issue at present. Air and food is what we’re after, and any trade goods you might have that we could sell on at another port of call. Though, of course, that is secondary to air and food.”
Billie knew Cordelia was improvising. They hadn’t said anything in their discussions about taking on trade goods. Billie was glad, though. These people needed help almost more than the folks on the Toby did. They were sitting ducks if the raiders decided to come back.
What followed was an old-fashioned bargaining session. Cordelia showed her worth as an admin by getting good return for the raw materials and commodities they’d mined from the comet’s tail. The three women returned to their ship with subdued hearts. Billie was glad they’d been able to secure a deal to top up their air tanks and fill up the larder, but she wished there was more they could do for those left on the colony.
Late in her sleep period, Billie rose, restless. She checked on Sam, fast asleep in his own small room in the suite they’d been given. She didn’t want to wake him, so she looked for a book to occupy her mind. Annoyingly, she’d left her library card—which contained her personal library—in the holding slot of the nav station. Deciding to fetch it, she dressed simply and enabled full monitoring on Sam’s cabin so she’d know if he woke or had any sort of problem while she was gone. She then prowled up to the bridge to retrieve her card. She stumbled through the hatch with a nod to the cyborg on security duty.
It was the young man who had chosen the name Phoenix. She’d asked him why and he’d said something about being reborn. He might look younger than most of the other cyborgs, but he had deep thoughts, she had discovered.
“Just want to get something I left on my board,” she told him, and he let her in with a small smile.
Phoenix was learning how to be human again, and he was really trying. She had a soft spot for the youth who must’ve been injured during his first battle. He seemed so much less battle-hardened than all the rest of the cyborgs. In many ways, he reminded her of Sam. He had that same youthful innocence, at times.
The bridge was empty, as she expected while powered down at dock, except… There was a very familiar form sitting in the command chair.
“Medeus,” she said, before she thought better of it.
He nodded. “Miss Latimer,” he replied politely.
She scrunched up her face at his formal words. “You called me Billie before,” she told him, her words incautious this late in the night. The bridge was dark, except for the ambient glow from the screens. “What are you doing up here, anyway? Don’t you sleep?”
Medeus let out a soft sigh as he stood. “Rarely,” he answered. “I’m finding it…difficult…to assimilate my old memories with my new circumstances.”
That made Billie pause as she retrieved her library card from its holding slot. She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “Maybe if you talk to someone?”
“I have tried, but it’s hard to reveal such intimate thoughts to others of my kind. They seem to be taking these…enhancements…so much better than I am. Of course, they were mostly ground troops, so anything that makes them better fighters is something they can embrace, for the most part.” He laughed ruefully, sounding so human, in that moment, that she wanted to reach out to him.
“But you were a ship’s captain, right?” Billie asked, moving a little closer on the dark bridge.
“Worse. I was a fleet commander,” he admitted. “I went from pilot to captain to commander. I never fought hand-to-hand,” he admitted. “Maybe that’s why I’m finding it so hard to accept.”
“Yes, that probably has a lot to do with it,” she allowed. “But… Forgive me for saying this if it makes you uncomfortable, but you also seem to be a lot more…uh…enhanced than the others. Maybe that’s bothering you, as well?”
Medeus shook his head, looking down at the deck. “You’re right, Billie.”
Her name on his lips made her spine tingle in a good way. She didn’t like it when he got all formal with her. She much preferred when he called her by name. She took another step closer until she was only a foot or so from him.
“I was pretty much blown apart with my flagship. Only the command chair’s life pod functions saved me.” He paused and looked up, his eyes bright in the darkness of the bridge. “Sometimes, I wish it hadn’t.”
She couldn’t stand it. She had to touch him. She reached out with one hand, placing it on his arm. Metal under synthetic skin. Cyborg. But also a man. A man with feelings that were in a jumble of pain and regret. He might be made of replacement parts, but he had a heart and a mind and a soul. A soul that reached out to hers, as hers reached out to him.
“Don’t say that,” she told him softly. “Don’t ever say that. I, for one, am glad you’re here. My life would have been sadder for not knowing you.”
“Billie… I’m only just starting to remember things about who I was,” he warned her.
“And that’s why it’s so hard right now, I’d bet. Give yourself some time, Captain. Cut yourself a little slack. You’re only human,” she said, smiling.
“Not quite human,” he reminded her with a shake of his head, though a grin played around the corner of his mouth, giving her hope.
“Human enough,” she told him in no uncertain terms. She stepped closer. “Tell me…” She moved his arm out to the side so she could press her body against his. “Would a machine be able to feel this?”
Daring greatly, she pressed her lips to his in the kiss she’d been craving since almost the first time she had laid eyes on him. She was either making a total fool out of herself or about to ignite a flame that might never be quenched. Either way, she was in trouble.
Medeus was shocked right down to his toes when Billie stepped up and kissed him. He thought about it for about zero point two milliseconds before old instincts kicked in, and he kissed her back.
The first kiss since he’d been changed. The first kiss that really mattered in a lifetime of regrets. Billie knew what he was and what he’d been through, and still, she kissed him. His human heart filled with wonder, even as his cybernetic limbs moved to embrace her as gently as they possibly could.
He never wanted to hurt this beautiful soul. It would kill him if he misjudged and gave her the slightest bruise. He’d have to be careful with the privilege she’d given him. The privilege of her kiss. Her warmth. Her trust.
Her mouth was warm and inviting, as was her body. He could feel her against him, thanks to the sensors in his limbs—in the pseudo-skin they’d used to craft his replacement parts and make them as responsive as his old body. The only difference between the sensitivity of his new limbs and the old was that he could selectively turn off the sensors in his limbs if he was injured. He could essentially ignore things that would have been intensely painful in a totally biological body.
Medeus supposed that was useful for ground troops. And, while he’d been deployed as a cyborg without memory, he’d done his share of fighting. He’d used the ability to turn off pain receptors. But he would never—not in a billion years—turn off the signals that allowed him to feel the delicious heat and pressure of Billie’s lithe body rubbing against him.
He’d never committed to a woman. He’d regretted that, sometimes, when he stopped to think about it. But, really, he’d had no time. His career had been his focus. He’d always figured a wife and children would come later. Maybe.
And then, time had run out for him.
He’d floated in the nothingness of the CCS dominance over his brain for a long time, and then, he’d awakened to this new reality. A reality where he could be a shadow of the man he’d once been… And a woman he’d never expected was suddenly in his arms, kissing him as if he mattered. Really mattered.
His all-too-human heart stuttered at the enormity of the moment. Billie was a smart, beautiful young woman with her whole life ahead of her. Why would she be drawn to the wreck—both physical and emotional—that he was?
Medeus knew he should be pushing her away, but he couldn’t help but wring every last moment of enjoyment he could out of the experience. Before he had to put her aside and do something to deter her from further intimacy.
There was too much that she didn’t know about who he had been. Too much he couldn’t tell her for fear of hurting her more. Her older brother had been one of his officers and had likely died under his command. That was too big an obstacle to surmount.
His mind knew it couldn’t work between them, but that didn’t mean his body got the message. He kissed her with all the pent-up longing inside him until he didn’t know where he left off and she began. And then… It was over. She pulled away, breathing heavily, and he let her go.
He stepped back once he knew she was steady on her feet. Her eyes were dazed, and a primitive part of him liked that he’d been able to put that look on her pretty face. The saner side of him knew he had to nip this in the bud before it could go any further.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, but firmly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Confusion shone in those pretty eyes. Confusion, embarrassment, and a bit of hurt. He felt bad about it, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d be hurt a lot worse if he let this continue.
“Go back to your cabin, Billie.” He could, at least, give her the courtesy of calling her by name, now that he’d kissed her. He wouldn’t be so cruel as to take that away, as well.
Medeus turned away, cursing himself as every kind of fool, unable to look at her tragic expression. He didn’t watch, but he was well aware when she padded quietly to the hatch and opened it, letting herself out. He heard the subdued greeting she gave the young cyborg he’d stationed outside before the hatch closed and locked behind her.
Medeus was alone, once again.