Chapter 11

11

T he stench of cordite filled Jesh's nostrils as she crouched behind a twisted hunk of metal. Her heart pounded in time with the gunfire filling the air. She peeked out of cover, and her eyes widened at the battlefield stretched before her. It was hell. Bodies were strewn across the scorched earth like discarded dolls, their vacant eyes staring accusingly at her.

Confusion filled her. How had she gotten here? For that matter, where was here? The weight of the weapon in her hands was familiar, and her fingers curled around it with practiced ease. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze from her vision and her thoughts.

A booming voice cut through the noise. "Move out! Delta formation!"

Her head snapped around toward the sound, and her eyes locked on to a towering figure. His piercing green eyes seemed to glow in the hazy light, a hard expression on his chiseled features. As he turned toward her, she saw a tattoo on his cheek. Squinting slightly, she brought it into focus. L8-10M1. Something about him tugged at the edges of her memory, but the harder she tried to grasp it, the more it slipped away.

As the squad fanned out across the battlefield, Jesh found her body moving in perfect synchronization with the others. She tried to force her body to turn so she could see them, but it wasn't obeying her. It was like she was just an observer in her own skin, a passenger along for the ride.

Her mind reeled, struggling to catch up with what was going on. She wore armor, like the man with the tattoo, and she could feel the pressure of a helmet on her head. It should have been claustrophobic, but instead it all felt right, like slipping into a second skin.

A new presence appeared at her side, and she half turned, feeling her lips pull up into a smile. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the dark hair, rugged features and eyes. Dael. She knew this man.

Her gaze traveled down his form, and shock rolled through her. Where his right arm should have been, a massive cannon sprouted from his shoulder, seamlessly melded with flesh and bone. He turned to her, a lopsided grin on his face. His lips moved, forming words she couldn't hear over the din of battle. The wink that followed spoke volumes. It wasn't flirtatious. No, the ease between them felt more like the familiar bond of siblings. Who was he? Who was she to him?

Before she could think about it anymore, something caught her attention, and she threw herself sideways as the world around her erupted in a maelstrom of fire and shrapnel.

The ground trembled beneath her, the vibrations rattling her teeth as she scrambled for better position. Her squad returned fire with deadly precision, the rhythmic thud of their weapons a counterpoint to her racing heart as she watched the drama unfold from her seat in her own head.

They pushed forward, and the full horror of the battlefield revealed itself. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the ozone scent of discharged weapons. Bodies littered the ground, some intact, others torn asunder by the fury of combat. Her stomach churned, but her steps didn't falter as her hands remained steady on her weapon.

But one body brought Jesh to a grinding halt. The man lay sprawled on his back, half of his torso blown away. Yet where there should have been a gruesome display of internal organs and spilled guts, Jesh saw only a tangle of wires and circuitry bathed in an oily, metallic fluid. His eyes, unnaturally wide, blinked slowly as they fixed upon her. Like the man with the green eyes, he had a tattoo on his cheek. It was obscured by blood, and she watched herself lean down to wipe it away, revealing the tattoo.

J10-8M7E.

Time slowed as she reached for the knife at her belt. With mechanical precision, she watched herself plunge the blade into the side of the injured man's head. The sickening crunch of metal and bone reverberated through her arm, making her want ? —

She bolted upright, a scream tearing from her throat. Thrashing wildly, she tried to get away from the horror she'd seen. Strong arms encircled her, and panic surged as she fought against her captor. They were back. They'd found her?—

"Jesh! Jesh, it's okay. It's me. You're safe. I've got you."

The familiar deep voice cut through her terror. Covak. She sobbed and collapsed against his chest, burying her face into the side of his strong throat. She was on the Lady's Dream , in her quarters. Safe.

"I'm a monster," she choked against his skin, anguish rolling through her. "I killed him, Covak. Oh my god, I killed him!"

His arms tightened around her, and he pulled her closer against the solid strength of his body. "You had a nightmare, little one. That's all," he murmured softly, one hand gently stroking her back.

She shook her head, her tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. "No… It wasn't. It felt too real. I think it was a memory."

Covak's chest rumbled as he spoke, the vibrations oddly soothing. "Love, from what we've figured out, you were a soldier. And in war, soldiers have to do terrible things to survive and to protect others."

She nodded, a hiccup escaping her. The darkness of the room felt like a protective cocoon, keeping her safe, and letting her talk without seeing judgment or pity in his eyes. She remembered that look all too well from the hospital staff…

"Do you remember anything else?" His voice was low and gentle.

"We were all the same," she murmured, putting the fragments of memory together so they made sense. "Dael was there. He's like me, a cyborg."

She looked up, trying to gauge his expression, but the darkness frustrated her and obscured his face.

"We were fighting humans," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Most of the bodies… they were human. Only a few were like the one I found."

"The one you found?" he prompted gently, still stroking down her back. The rhythmic touch was soothing, comforting.

She swallowed hard, the image of the fallen cyborg burned into her memory. "I killed him," she whispered. "There was a code on his cheek. J10-8M7E."

Covak stiffened slightly. "That's similar to your designation. Any idea what it means?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just… I killed him, Covak. With a dagger. Oh god…"

The memory hit her full force, and her stomach lurched. Scrambling out of bed, she barely made it to the bathroom before everything in her stomach came back up. Covak's large hands were gentle as he held her hair back while she threw up.

When she was done, he helped her stand up and held her as she rinsed her mouth. With gentle nudges, he guided her back to bed.

"Sleep," he said as he settled in beside her. "I'll stay here so you can sleep. We'll be at the clinic tomorrow so we can get you scanned… we'll figure this out, I promise."

Jesh's stomach lurched as the drop shuttle plummeted through the colony's upper atmosphere. The skin between her shoulder blades crawled, and her enhanced hearing picked up every minute vibration and groan of metal from the ship and every shift in pressure as they hurtled down toward their destination.

Through the small viewport, clouds whipped past, obscuring any view of the planet below. The air hummed with the ship's systems and the low murmur of conversation around her.

She was wedged between the alien mercenaries who had rescued her from Amanda Hargrove and whoever her asshole "mother" was working for.

Covak's massive form pressed against her side, his presence reassuring. He leaned in, his breath warm on her ear to say, "Let me introduce you to the team."

She nodded, her gaze moving from face to face, cataloging details faster than she could process them. It didn't matter. She was getting used to the voice in her head. It would pick up anything she needed to know and tell her about it.

They looked big and dangerous, but she wasn't worried. Given the little she did know about herself and the events of the last few days, she was fairly certain she could overpower any of them if necessary.

"Davis, our resident human and engineer." Covak's deep voice rumbled next to her ear, and he nodded toward a man sitting across from them.

Davis offered a smile and a small wave of a gloved hand as he checked his weaponry over. She nodded back, noting the contrast between his human features and the alien crew. Or the lack of it. If she hadn't been told he was human, other than the fact his pupils were round like hers, she wouldn't have known the difference. He looked just as big and dangerous as the rest of them.

"You've met Anson," Covak continued, gesturing to the man from the corridor last night. "He's our security expert."

Anson's gaze met hers briefly before darting away.

"Then we have Rann, our pilot and second in command," Covak said, indicating the tall, leaner alien man at the controls.

Rann grunted and lifted a thumb up in the air over his shoulder, his focus staying on the shuttle's controls as he flew.

"And finally…" Covak's tone shifted slightly. "Our glorious leader, Ryke."

He motioned to the tall, imposing man sitting near the back ramp of the shuttle. Ice-blue eyes locked on to hers, a smile in their depths.

"Well, well," Ryke drawled as a roguish grin spread across his face. "If I'd known we were rescuing such a beauty, I'd have made sure to switch places with the big guy. I?—"

A deep growl ripped through the shuttle, drowning out whatever Ryke was saying. Covak surged forward to the edge of his seat, putting himself between her and Ryke. She peeked around his massive shoulder to see Ryke sit back.

"Down, boy," the Reapers' leader chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just being friendly."

"Well, don't," Covak snarled, his fangs fully descended. "Be less friendly with her."

She raised an eyebrow. Part of her found Covak's protectiveness oddly endearing, but another part bristled at the implication she needed safeguarding.

She met Ryke's gaze steadily, letting a hint of steel creep into her voice. "Charmed, I'm sure. But I can speak for myself. I'm good with friendly, but friendly is all it's going to be."

Ryke's eyes widened slightly and then crinkled with amusement.

"Oh, I like her," he said to Covak before turning back to her with a respectful nod. "Welcome aboard, warrior."

Covak relaxed a little at her words, but his protective stance remained. She shook her head slightly. These aliens had rescued her, true, and she was grateful for that. But she was no damsel in distress. Best they understood that, sooner rather than later.

Even so… she put her hand on Covak's arm, and he looked down at her.

"Thank you for the assist."

He gazed down into her eyes for a moment as if he was searching for something and then nodded and offered a small smile.

Davis cleared his throat.

"Right, about our cover story," he began, his voice tight with discomfort. "My brother—who I would like to point out is a complete and utter asshole—has arranged for us to pose as a couple at the clinic. For a prenatal scan."

The words hung in the air for a moment.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, her voice higher than she'd have liked. "Prenatal? As in… pregnant?"

He nodded. "Full body scan and all. It was the only way to get us in without raising suspicions."

Covak's growl filled through the shuttle again. "You better keep your hands to yourself, human ," he warned, his fangs bared again.

She shook her head.

"That's not going to work. I don't even know if I have the right equipment to be pregnant. What if they scan me and realize I'm lying?"

The question silenced the group.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Davis said.

"No, it's fine," Covak growled. "Tell them we bought our own medic and I'll scan her. I'm not having any of the humans do it."

"From a security point of view, that makes more sense," Anson agreed. "We need to control the data from the scan and delete it from their system anyway. If Covak operates the scanner, he can assure the data is not being duplicated and saved in a secondary location."

The shuttle touched down with a gentle thud, and Rann twisted to say over his shoulder, "We're here. Good luck in there."

Jesh stepped off the shuttle, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. A sleek, modern landing pad stretched before her, contrasting sharply with the wild landscape beyond. In the distance, light from the planet's twin suns glinted off the colony's biodomes. The Reapers fanned out around her and Davis, moving with practiced efficiency to secure defensive positions that somehow looked like a group of people ambling along rather than a combat group.

They're good, the voice in her head commented. Each of them only needs to take a step to tighten the formation up. However, the current movement should not cause concern for anyone watching.

Covak reluctantly shifted to the rear of the group, ceding his place beside her to Davis. She watched the tall human from the corner of her eye, noting his fluid movements and alert posture. Despite his unassuming appearance, he moved with a predator's grace. His eyes moved constantly, scanning their surroundings and missing nothing.

"Heads up," Anson murmured. "Incoming. Humans. Not armed." She looked around to see medical staff approaching, their crisp uniforms a bright white against the muted grey tones of the landing pad.

"Mr. and Mrs. Peters?" One of the staff members stepped forward with a polite smile. "If you'll follow me, please."

"Come on, darling," Davis put his hand on her lower back, the gesture of a loving husband, and she suppressed both the urge to flinch and the second, more violent, urge to break all the bones in his hand for touching her. Behind them, she could sense Covak's low growl just on the edge of hearing. The last thing they needed was the humans to hear it and wonder how he could make such a sound, so she threw him a warning look over her shoulder. He just grinned and shot her a wink.

Walking into the clinic was like walking into a luxury hotel. The corridors were wide and well-lit with plush carpeting that muffled their footsteps. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the faintest hint of antiseptic.

"This is more like a hotel than a hospital," she murmured to Davis.

He nodded, keeping his voice low. "Discreet high-end private clinic. Caters to the rich and secretive."

Something stirred in her memory. She knew, with a certainty that surprised her, that she'd been in many medical facilities, but never one like this. The luxury felt all wrong somehow.

As they walked, she caught the staff's curious glances their way. To be fair, she couldn't blame them. Finally, they reached the examination room. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a doctor waiting inside. Her heart pounded as she stepped through, the men fanning out behind her. Each moment stretched out like an eternity. She was sure they were going to be caught. That the doctor would know what she was as soon as he saw her.

The doctor behind the desk looked up, and his professional mask slipped for a split second as he took in the group.

"Welcome," he said, setting down the datafile he was reading. "I'm Dr. Rettnor. Which one of you is my patient?"

Since she was the only person in the group who could be pregnant, she stepped forward and met the doctor's gaze. "That would be me."

The doctor smiled. "Mrs. Peters, if you'll just?—"

"Actually," Davis cut in smoothly, "we'll need complete privacy for this scan."

The doctor's brows snapped together. "I'm afraid that's not standard procedure. As the attending physician, I need to?—"

"We insist," Covak rumbled, his massive form seeming to fill the room.

Dr. Rettnor glanced between them, a tiny pulse fluttering at his temple. "Well, while I understand your desire for privacy, we have protocols?—"

Davis's voice was like steel. "Which I'm sure can be bent, considering the generous compensation you've received."

The doctor hesitated for a moment, his gaze darting around them all, and then he nodded. "Very well. You've certainly paid enough for some… discretion." An odd expression flickered across his face, but it was gone before she could analyze it. "The scanning equipment is ready for you. I trust you know how to operate it?"

Covak grunted.

"Good." The doctor's lips curled into a tight smile. "It's quite user-friendly. Any idiot could run it, really."

She caught the backhanded compliment and narrowed her eyes in warning.

"I'll be just outside if you need any assistance," the doctor added, already backing toward the door. "Good luck with your… procedure."

As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, the tension in the room dropped a little. "It's human tech," Covak grumbled. "How hard can it frexxing be? Frexxing jumped up little asshole."

She moved forward and stood in front of the scanner. It was a huge thing, like a metal cage surrounding a narrow bed. Nothing at all like the diagnostic unit on the Reapers' ship. It loomed ominously, and she took a deep breath. Did she really want to know what it would tell them?

A large hand landed on her shoulder. She turned, and looked up to meet Covak's gaze. His eyes, now a shade lighter than before, held a warmth that made her breath catch.

"Trust me," he said softly. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to say something—to thank him, to express her growing trust in him—but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she reached up, squeezing his hand briefly before lying down on the table.

"Covak," she said softly, drawing his attention. Anything not to think about the scan. "Does your species' eyes change color with your mood or something? I could swear your eyes are lighter than they were before."

His lips quirked into a small smile. "Are they?" he asked, his tone light. He didn't say anything else, turning back to the scanner controls as she focused on her breathing.

"I'm going to step out for a moment," Davis said from the back of the room. "I need to check on something. I'll be right back."

She nodded as the machine whirred into life around her and squeezed her eyes shut. Hopefully, whatever was hidden inside her wouldn't blow this one up…