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Chapter 4

4

C ovak left the gym after his workout and made his way down the corridor, heading for the galley as he scrubbed at the back of his neck with a small workout towel.

Draanth, I'm starving, he thought, his mouth already watering at the prospect of a hearty meal. The workout had left his muscles pleasantly sore—just what he needed to keep his mind sharp and his body honed for whatever challenges lay ahead.

His stomach growled again, and he pressed a clawed hand against it, wrinkling his nose. One day, one of his teammates was going to think there was a deearin in here and shoot him or something. Something he could well do without… being shot would really put a crimp in his day… and make him hungry. Hungrier, anyway.

He frowned as the steady thrum of the ship's engines vibrating through the deck plates beneath his feet changed slightly. Dammit, he hoped engine three wasn't on the fritz again. Not that he knew anything about engineering, but Tell and Anson would bitch at each other incessantly until it was fixed and drive him insane.

As he made his way to the galley, the recycled air of the ship carried a faint metallic tang mixed with the lingering scent of cleaning solutions. The cleaning bots had been down here recently. His sensitive nose twitched in anticipation, already imagining the aroma of seared meat and charred vegetables that would soon fill the air.

The galley doors hissed open to reveal Rann seated at the corner table, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a flex screen in the other.

Covak grunted a greeting at the team's second in command as he headed for the chiller unit. The cold air rushed out as he yanked open the door, sending a shiver across his sweat-slicked skin. He pulled out slabs of meat and an assortment of vegetables, piling them onto a massive plate. Well, it was more a serving tray, but who was counting?

Rann looked up from his flex, his eyebrow arching at the mountain of food.

"Working out again?" Rann asked, his tone even, but a smile quirked the corners of his lips. "Ryke'll throw a hissy fit at the food bill, you know?"

"He's always throwing a hissy fit about costs." Covak shrugged, turning on the hotplate before throwing the meat on to cook. Within seconds, the heavenly smell of food began to fill the room.

For a moment, silence reigned as Covak focused on cooking his food, and Rann sipped his coffee. Covak eyed his companion over his shoulder. Despite the Latharian's calm exterior, he'd always been curious about Rann. Dressed in combats, he walked and talked like the mercenary he was. Most of the time. Occasionally he slipped and then he was all imperial warrior.

Wonder what made him leave that life behind, he pondered, still stealing glances at his comrade over his shoulder.

Of the Reaper crew, only Rann had been aboard longer than he had. Their friendship was built through common battles and mutual respect, but Covak knew only fragments of Rann's background—gossip and half-heard tales pieced together over time.

The sizzle and pop of the meat in the skillet filled the air, mingling with the aromatic steam rising from Rann's coffee. Covak inhaled deeply, appreciating the mixture of scents. Coffee and food, his two favorite things.

"Your shoulder rig holding up?" Rann's voice cut through Covak's reverie.

He flipped the meat, watching with satisfaction as the edges crisped to perfection. "The big gun? Never lets me down. Only problem I have is finding enough enemies to put it through its paces."

Rann chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "The day we run out of enemies is the day we can all retire."

Covak snorted. "We'd all go crazy within a week."

Comfortable silence settled over them again for a few minutes. Then Covak glanced over his shoulder at Rann, who had abandoned the flex and was staring into his mug, lost in his thoughts.

"Ever regret it?" Covak asked, breaking the silence.

Rann looked up. "Regret what?"

"Leaving the empire. Joining us," Covak clarified as he carried his meal over to the table. He dropped into the seat opposite Rann.

The Latharian leaned back. "Sometimes yes, mostly no." He shrugged. "The food is usually better. Unless you've eaten it all."

"Can't argue there," Covak said, his stomach rumbling again as he dug into his meal. "Speaking of, pass me the sauce?"

Rann complied, sliding a bottle of hot sauce across the table. He watched silently as Covak piled it on the mountain of sizzling meat and crispy vegetables.

As Covak ate, Rann got up and went to the freezer, digging around for a moment before pulling out a tub of ice cream. He grabbed a spoon and carried his prize back to the table.

Covak eyed him with amusement. "Someone's feeling brave today."

Rann grinned as he dug into the ice cream. "Just don't tell Ryke. You know how he gets about his ice cream."

Covak shook his head with a chuckle. "Your secret is safe with me."

Silence reigned as they ate, the only thing more serious to a Reaper than combat.

"Speaking of Ryke," Rann said, standing and starting to gather up their dishes. "He's been in his office all day. Planning, probably. I haven't seen him this absorbed since… well, a long time."

"You think he's worried about this job?" Covak asked, genuinely curious. It took something significant to make their fearless leader retreat into solitude.

"Worried, maybe. Focused, definitely. Something about this mission feels… different."

Covak nodded, finishing the last of his meal. "Yeah, well… we're headed into human space. What do we all really know about humans? Apart from Tell, and he doesn't count. He's weird at the best of times."

Rann chuckled as he dropped the dishes into the cleansing unit. "Yeah, he really is. Well, whatever it is about this job that has Ryke's panties in a twist, we'll deal with it. It's what we do."

Covak clapped a hand on Rann's shoulder before heading for the door. "Frexxing right we do."

She didn't think she'd seen a room so devoid of character, even for a doctor's office. And since she'd seen many of them since she'd woken up, that was saying something.

Jesh sat in the uncomfortable chair, drumming an irregular beat on the armrest. The harsh lights cast a sickly pallor over everything. Dr. Lewis bustled around her, his white coat swishing as he moved from one piece of equipment to another, running tests she'd long since lost count of.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of disinfectant, a smell that made Jesh's nose wrinkle. She'd spent far too much time in places like this, but thankfully she couldn't remember it all. The steady beep of monitors filled the silence, a constant refrain she even heard in her dreams.

"Well, Elena," Dr. Lewis said as he came to stand in front of her. His voice carried that forced cheerfulness most doctors had around her. The one that set her teeth on edge. "I'm happy to report that all your tests have come back normal. Better than normal, actually."

She flicked a glance at the chart in his hands. Even upside down, she could read the results clearly. Her heart rate, blood pressure, reflexes… they were all far above what would be considered typical for a woman of her size and build.

"That's… good, right?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

Dr. Lewis nodded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Oh, absolutely. Your physical condition really is excellent. Quite remarkable, really, considering the accident."

The accident. Right. Her mind raced. She was a high-speed interplanetary racer. Wasn't she? Which would explain her superior physical condition and the fact that she knew what all those readings meant. Wouldn't it? She'd have had to monitor her own reactions during high-stress maneuvers.

But even as the thought crossed her mind, it felt odd. Like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.

"Now…" Dr. Lewis pulled a chair from the side of the room across to her, the legs scraping along the highly polished floor. He sat down in front of her, looking directly into her eyes She resisted the urge to flinch and gave him a blank face to look at. "Let's talk about your memory. Shall we? Have you had any recollections since our last appointment? Any flashes of your life before the accident?"

She shook her head and stuck to the story she'd been repeating since she woke up with the sense that everything was wrong. Nothing at all about the odd code she'd scrawled in her journal or her daydream nightmare of the battlefield. "No, nothing. There's nothing… a complete blank before I woke up in the hospital."

Dr. Lewis nodded, making a note on his tablet. "Ah, yes, that was about a week ago. Wasn't it?"

Eight days, twelve hours, fourteen minutes, and three seconds , a new voice spoke right in her ear, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

What the hell was that?

She managed to keep still, her hands gripping the armrests lightly as she fought to keep her face neutral and resist the urge to twist around in her seat looking for the speaker.

But just her, Dr. Lewis, and the two nurses who had been assisting with the tests were in the room. The voice had been behind her, though. No… wait, not behind her. Had it been in her head?

One of the nurses, a burly man with close-cropped hair, shifted his weight, and her attention snapped to him.

Incapacitate the first guard, the voice said again, and her eyes widened. It was in her head. Throw the chair to disrupt the doctor. Ensure the doctor's path is blocked, avoiding any interference. Use the confusion to close the distance to the first nurse.

In an instant, a series of visual instructions flowed through her mind, and she saw herself carrying out the actions the voice described. She moved across the room, throwing the chair at Dr. Lewis, who instinctively shielded himself as she dove toward the nurse.

Apply three kilograms of pressure to one of the carotid arteries for ten seconds to incapacitate , the voice instructed. Next, target the second nurse. Utilize a swift upward strike to the nasal bridge to render unconscious.

The scenes were so clear, almost muscle memory. Sweat rolled down her back as she remained sitting, not moving a muscle.

Okay, she was going mad. Absolutely stark-raving mad. How would she know how to do all that?

"Elena?" The doctor's voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you alright? You seem distracted."

She blinked and forced herself to focus on the doctor. "Sorry, I… I'm just tired, I guess."

He nodded sympathetically. "Of course, these tests can be quite draining. Let's continue, shall we… get them done as quickly as possible so you can go home. Okay?"

She smiled and nodded, only half listening as he continued his questions.

Who are you? she demanded.

The door lock can be disabled with two point three kilograms of focused pressure applied to the upper left quadrant, it informed her instead of answering her question. In fact, she wasn't sure it registered it. The security camera in the upper right corner of the room has a blind spot directly beneath it.

Her head spun as she answered Dr. Lewis's questions on autopilot.

I'm not doing that. Who are you? she asked again. Why are you showing me all this?

Finally, the doctor stood up. "Okay, I think that's all for today, Elena. You can go ahead and wait outside while I have a quick word with your mother."

She nodded, relief flowing through her as she stood and walked out of the room, avoiding eye contact with the nurses as she went. The one who had caught her attention before watched her all the way. Did he know something? Did he suspect she was going mad?

She managed a tight smile as Aman—her mother—passed her in the doorway and went to sit down in the waiting room facing the doctor's office. Through the window, she watched as her mother and the doctor spoke.

Human female. Height: 170 centimeters. Weight: approximately sixty-three kilograms. Armed with a concealed Nexus P-12 pistol in a shoulder holster, the voice informed her.

She blinked, surprise rolling through her.

My mother is armed?

To her shock, the voice answered. Negative. Human female shares no facial features or bone structure with you. There is a zero percent chance she contributed any DNA to your genetic makeup.

It felt like the floor had dropped out from under her. She stared at Amanda through the window, seeing her with new eyes. The woman she'd been told was her mother was a stranger—and an armed one at that. Damn it, she should have stayed in the office so she could hear what they were saying.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, she could hear the conversation inside the office with perfect clarity.

"And she still doesn't suspect anything?" Dr. Lewis asked.

Amanda shook her head. "It's quiet, but so far it hasn't challenged anything we've established from the files."

Jesh didn't respond, keeping her features perfectly neutral as she reached for one of the holo-magazines on the coffee table and began to flick through it.

It. Her "mother" hadn't referred to her as "she" but "it"… like she was a thing.

"It did look at some of its scarring earlier and then wrote in a journal," Amanda continued. "But it was all just gibberish."

Jesh resisted the urge to touch her pocket, where she'd hidden the page from her journal. How did Amanda know about that?

"Gibberish?" the doctor asked. "What kind of gibberish?"

"It wrote the same letters and numbers over and over again, like it was in a daze. J10-10M3E."

Jesh didn't stop flicking through the magazine, even as her blood froze in her veins. They were watching her, even in what she thought were private moments. She risked a glance up, idly, like she was bored and trying to work out how long her mother would be.

Dr. Lewis frowned, clearly unimpressed. "It could mean anything," he said. "Perhaps some kind of activation sequence for the extra implants that we removed from her."

Implants? Jesh's mind raced. What kind of implants? And why would they have been removed?

Amanda spoke again, flicking a glance toward Jesh through the window. She gave a motherly smile, as if trying to reassure her. "Is this anything me and my team should be worried about? Is it going to freak out and try to kill us?"

Dr. Lewis shook his head. "That's highly unlikely, but there are no guarantees with experimental technology like this. Keep me updated with any progress on the memory."

Amanda nodded. "Yes, sir."

A chill washed over Jesh. So everything she'd been told was a lie. She wasn't Elena Hargrove, daughter of the tech mogul, Amanda Hargrove, and she wasn't recovering from a racing accident. She was… what? An experiment? A weapon?

Her fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to fight… to do something. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to unclench her hands. She couldn't run. Not yet. She needed more information, more time to understand what was happening.

The door to Dr. Lewis's office opened and Amanda stepped out, her face a mask of motherly concern.

"Ready to go home, sweetheart?" she asked.

Jesh nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she stood and followed Amanda out of the doctor's office toward the elevator. She was hyperaware of every movement, every glance from the staff they passed.

When elevator doors closed behind them, Amanda reached out and squeezed her hand. "You did great today, honey. I know these appointments can be tiring."

She forced a smile, her skin crawling at the touch. "Thanks… Mom," she managed, the word tasting like ash in her mouth.

As the elevator began its descent, her mind whirled. Her old life, or rather the week's worth of a lie she'd been living, shifted around her. She focused on what she knew. She wasn't Amanda's daughter, which meant that she wasn't Elena. Did Elena actually exist? Had she taken her place? Or was it all a lie?

She knew things that Amanda and the people around her didn't. They didn't know she'd overheard them in the office… although, to be fair, she didn't know how she'd done that either. And she had an odd voice in her head telling her things. Bad things, like ways to hurt people.

And her "mother" called her an "it." A thing.

She shifted her balance slightly as the elevator came to a stop. She didn't know who she was or what had been done to her, but she was damn well going to find out. But for now, she had to play along and pretend everything was normal.

They exited the building and walked to the car, Jesh trailing behind Amanda. She needed a plan, a way to gather information without alerting her captors. Because that's what they were… Amanda, Dr. Lewis, all of them. They weren't her family or her caregivers.

They were her jailers.

She just didn't know why.

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