Chapter 8

8

C ovak's heart thundered in his chest as Jane's eyes fluttered closed, her body going limp in his arms. The lights of the medical bay cast harsh shadows across her face. She was pale, too pale.

"No," he growled. "Not now. Not when I've just found you."

He pressed his fingers against the smooth curve of her throat, desperately searching for a pulse. Each species was slightly different, so he had to search, and those seconds stretched into an eternity. Then, as he moved his fingers, he finally felt it… just down and slightly to the left of where a Latharian pulse would be.

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave at the steady, strong pulse. Her dark hair splayed across the sheet on the diagnostic bed, standing out against the clinical white beneath her.

He half-turned to the screen where Zero watched them with concern.

"She called you Dael," he said, his voice rough. "Why?"

Confusion filled Zero's eyes as he shook his head. "No idea. It doesn't ring any bells."

Covak tensed, his muscles tight with frustration. "But she clearly knew you. Are you certain you don't recognize her?"

Zero shook his head again, his gaze fixed on Jane's unconscious form. "There's something… familiar about her. But I can't place it. It's like trying to grasp smoke."

He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing.

"I think there's someone—or something—else in her head. An AI, maybe. It called itself J10-10M3E. Said something about an onboard. That's why I called you."

Zero's eyes widened. "An onboard computer," he murmured. "I have one too, melded to my biological brain. But it's never spoken independently. It's more like… a constant stream of data in the back of my mind."

Suddenly, Zero's expression shifted to one of alarm. "Wait…. Does the Lady's Dream have an auto-diagnostic medical bed?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Don't scan her with it!" the big cyborg said urgently. "Tal and I tried that on the Sprite . Ended up blowing up half the medbay."

Covak chuckled. "I appreciate the warning, but it's a bit late. I started to, but Jane's onboard shut it down faster than a zorlack in heat." He couldn't resist adding, "Though I'm sorry about your ship. Losing the medbay probably cut your floor space in half, eh?"

Zero's eyes narrowed, but the slightest hint of amusement lurked in the backs of his eyes.

"Oh har-dee-har," he retorted. "Okay… my onboard's drawing a blank on J10-10M3E. But there's a lot of corrupted long-term memory data. Probably from the accident before T'Raal found me."

Covak turned back to Jane, studying her peaceful features. She looked for all the world like she was sleeping, but he knew better. An idea formed in his mind.

"J10-10M3E?" he said softly.

Her eyes snapped open, and his breath caught in his throat. The warmth in her grey eyes that he'd seen earlier was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze, and he knew instinctively that this wasn't Jane. He was speaking to the onboard computer again.

"What does J10-10M3E mean?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chill running down his spine. He didn't like AIs, not one little bit, not after the cascade incidents. And this AI… was far more advanced than anything ever produced in this universe. "Can you break it down for me?"

The thing wearing Jane's face didn't move, its gaze fixed unnervingly on Covak.

"Jesh, batch ten, section ten, mark three, enhanced," it stated flatly. "Designation: battlefield medic."

The words hung in the air, and the two mercenaries exchanged glances, the tension in the room ratcheting up several notches.

"Did it say Jesh?" Zero whispered in shock. " She's Jesh?"

"You do know her, then?" he asked, gently turning Jane's—no, Jesh's—arm. The onboard watched impassively as he examined the neat line of stitches across her skin.

"Battlefield medic," he murmured softly. "That explains a lot."

He looked back at the emotionless eyes staring up at him. "So you were both soldiers? You and Zero—or Dael, I suppose?"

The onboard gave a slight nod, the motion so small he almost missed it.

"Do you recognize him?" he asked, gesturing toward the screen where Zero watched with rapt attention. "Identify him."

The onboard's gaze flicked to the monitor. "Yes, I recognize him. He is D5-10M4 ."

Zero's sharp intake of breath was audible even through the comm link.

"Shit," he said. "She scanned me. How the hell did she do that?"

"Piggybacking a query ping on this signal was not technologically difficult," the onboard replied, watching them both.

Covak frowned as he pieced together the information. "So… he would be Dael, batch 5, section 10… mark 4. Is that right?"

The onboard gave another slight nod.

"So you were in the same section?" he pressed. They were definitely on the edge of a breakthrough here.

The nod came again, but as Covak opened his mouth to ask another question, it spoke again and cut him off.

"Access to onboard memory is inaccessible. Data corruption detected. Further queries cannot be processed."

Frustration bubbled up in his chest. They'd been so close to answers as well.

Zero's voice cut through the tension.

"Maybe we should let her rest," he suggested in a low voice. "When she wakes up, she might have more control over her onboard. We might get more answers then."

Covak nodded reluctantly, his gaze never leaving her face. As if on cue, her eyes drifted closed, the onboard retreating to wherever it lived in her mind. He studied her features, noting the small scar above her left eyebrow as well as the slight furrow between her brows, even in sleep. Who was she, really? A soldier? A medic? Both? And how did she fit into Zero's past?

"What do you make of all this?" he asked the other mercenary, his voice low and gravelly.

Zero's sigh was audible over the comm. "I don't know, man. It's like… it's like looking at a photo album where half the pictures are missing. I know something's there, but I can't quite grasp it."

Covak nodded. "Do you think she's dangerous?"

"Aren't we all?" Zero replied, his lips quirking up at the corners in amusement. "But yeah, I'd say so. Whatever she is, whoever she was… she's not just some damsel in distress you rescued."

"No," he agreed, his eyes tracing the line of Jesh's jaw. "She's definitely not that."

He didn't want to leave her.

Covak stood in the doorway of the medbay, looking at the little female sleeping peacefully in the bed. What if she woke up while he was gone, alone and panicked?

But duty called. Ryke had called for a debrief, and if he didn't show, the leader would track him down and have his guts for garters. Covak had no idea what garters were. It was one of Davis's sayings that he attributed to his grandmother. But having his guts used for them sounded painful and somewhat messy.

With a sigh, he turned away, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss, and headed up to the briefing room.

The rest of the crew were already there, gathered around the central holo-table. Ryke looked up as he walked in, a question in his eyes. Covak nodded. Their patient was stable. For all that Ryke had a "frexx you, devil may care" attitude. He was actually as soft as kriiznaal on the inside.

"Now that we're all here," their leader began, his voice cutting through the soft chatter, "let's go through what happened planetside."

The holo-table flickered to life, projecting a three-dimensional map of the compound they'd infiltrated.

Ryke's fingers danced over the controls, highlighting key areas. "We were outgunned from the start," he said, his tone clipped. One thing he took very seriously was the team's combat abilities. He never let them sit on their laurels. They trained, incessantly, to the point that some days their muscles were screaming in agony. But it paid dividends when they went into action and ensured that the Reapers were up there in the big leagues with the likes of the Warborne. "Their security systems were more advanced than our intel suggested."

Rann leaned forward, his large form casting a shadow over the hologram. "We underestimated their response time," he added, pointing to a section of the map. "They had reinforcements on us before we could secure the primary target."

"But," Covak added, "they missed me heading for the house where they were holding Jesh."

Rann shrugged. "Missed, or weren't bothered? Jane… wait," he blinked, looking directly at Covak. The blue of the holo-field made his eyes, a mixture of blues and greens, pale and piercing. "Who is Jesh? Our guest?"

"Got it in one, boss. Her name is Jesh," he said, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "I've managed to counteract the drugs they used on her. She's sleeping it off now."

Ryke's eyebrow arched. "What were the drugs?"

Covak's jaw clenched as anger surged inside him. He'd had more chance to analyze the compound they'd shot her up with while she was sleeping, and the more he knew, the angrier he'd gotten.

"It was brutal," he said, leaning forward on the holo-table with one hand as he accessed medbay records with the other. "Basically a chemical lobotomy. They were trying to liquefy her brain."

Gasps echoed through the bridge. Rann's face contorted in disgust. "Why would they do that? It would have rendered her useless if they'd recaptured her."

Covak shook his head, his hair dancing over his shoulders. "I don't think they care one way or the other. The drugs were all human and would have a devastating effect on her brain… personally I think that was it. They don't need the biological components anymore."

He leaned forward, his gaze sweeping around the team. "She's a cyborg, as we suspected. I've reviewed the files the Warborne's scientists sent over. It seems that this project's people have been stripping her cybernetic systems, and the only reason I can think of is to reverse-engineer the technology."

Ryke snorted, a sound somewhere between amusement and frustration. "And why can't you use that ridiculously expensive auto-diagnostic bed you insisted I buy to confirm this?"

Covak's lips quirked. "Because she has some kind of power core that would likely blow us all to stardust if I tried. The Warborne's medic attempted something similar with Zero. Nearly took out their entire ship."

"Draanth," Ryke muttered. "Yeah, I'd rather you didn't do that."

"What about a human-level scanner?" Davis asked. "It's passive tech, not active. Shouldn't trigger her power core."

Ryke chuckled. "And where the hell are we supposed to get a human medical scanner? We can't exactly waltz into a human hospital."

"Well, we could…" Rann folded his arms over his chest and grinned. "But Covak would cause quite a stir."

Covak snorted, his gaze sweeping the bridge. "Me? Have you seen yourselves?"

He took in the crew, each a hulking mass of muscle and alien features. Ryke, scarred and battle-worn, towered at just under seven feet. Rann was just as tall but lean with a whipcord strength to his frame. Anson's ke'lath glowed under his skin as he looked up, the B'Kaar obviously uplinking to the ship's mainframe as he analyzed the battle data in front of them.

Even Davis, their token human, dwarfed his Earth-born kin. Covak's own reflection in the viewscreen caught his eye—all fangs, claws, and Vorrtan size and strength. They were freaks compared to humans, every last one of them, and would probably scare the piss out of any human doctor.

Davis cleared his throat. "I might have a contact who could get us access to a medical center," he said, his expression thoughtful. "Leave it to me."

Before anyone could reply, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the ship's intercom. A female voice, raw and terrified, echoed off the metal walls.

Jesh.

His heart slammed against his ribs as he bolted for the door.

He could only pray he wasn't already too late.

Covak's heart thundered in his chest as he raced through the ship. The familiar corridors became nothing more than a blur, the usual hum of engines reduced to white noise beneath the roar of blood in his ears.

He reached the first ladder and, without breaking stride, clamped his booted feet on its sides. The metal groaned as he slid down, friction heating the soles of his boots. One deck, two decks, three—he slammed into the floor as he landed, the impact reverberating through the ship like a small earthquake. He barely noticed, already moving again, his powerful frame propelling him forward with single-minded determination.

Skidding around the final corner, he nearly collided with the medbay door in his haste. The door, usually swift to open, now seemed to move with agonizing slowness. He could hear Jesh on the other side of it, each terrified sound piercing his heart like a plasma bolt.

"Come on, come on," he growled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as he willed the door to open faster. How had he never noticed how frexxing slow this thing was before? It felt like an eternity passed before the opening was wide enough for him to squeeze through, the edge of the door scraping against his broad shoulders and chest as he forced his way in.

Jesh thrashed wildly on the bed, her lithe form tangled in the sheets. Terror contorted her face into a grotesque mask. Her cries, no longer muffled, assaulted his ears. Each panicked gasp and whimper cut deep, slicing through to his core.

A primal instinct, as old as his species itself, roared to life within him. Protect. Comfort. Soothe. Overriding all rational thought, it drove him across the room in a heartbeat, and he hauled her into his arms.

For a split second—a mere heartbeat in time—he held her. Her smaller form fit against his chest as if she had been made to be there, her warmth seeping through the thin material of her medical gown and into his skin. A sense of rightness filled him, so complete that it rocked him down to his soul.

In that moment, the doubts and uncertainties he'd hidden all his life evaporated. He wasn't a misfit… the sole Vorrtan who didn't know his place, who couldn't fit into his own society. The feeling of being the perpetual outsider vanished, replaced by a sense of belonging he'd never known. With her in his arms, he fit somewhere, at last. He'd never been destined to be some warlady's fourth or fifth husband. He'd been destined to be right here, holding her?—

Her eyes snapped open, confusion in their grey depths. Before he could react, she shoved him away.

Her fist connected with his jaw, the impact resonating through his skull like a shockwave. The blow took him off his feet. He flew across the room like a leaf in a gale, slamming into a row of metal cabinets. Instruments clattered, and medical supplies showered down around him as he crashed onto his backside.

Dazed, he shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears. The taste of copper filled his mouth. Frexx, he'd bitten his tongue. How embarrassing.

He'd been hit before. A lot. Growing up with six brothers and a sister destined to become a warlady had ensured that. Vorrtan society was rough and tumble, preparing its younglings for the harsh realities of life from an early age. But he had never met anyone who could literally knock him across a room and onto his arse before.

His vision cleared, and he became aware of movement at the medbay entrance. His teammates stood in the doorway, their mouths open wide in surprise.

Embarrassment flooded through him, burning his cheeks. He'd been knocked on his ass by a tiny female in front of his entire team. But as he saw them start to move toward her, all thoughts of his wounded pride vanished.

In an instant, he was on his feet, positioning himself between Jesh and his team. His fangs elongated into razor-sharp points, even his tusks coming into play as his claws extended, glinting dangerously in the medbay's harsh lighting. A low, rumbling growl built in his chest, vibrating through the air with deadly menace.

" Mine ," he snarled, the single word carrying the weight of untold generations of instinct.

His crewmates froze, watching him, but no one took a step further. Good, he would tear them apart if they threatened her.

"Where am I?" The confused voice from behind him cut through the tension like a laser through tri-steel. He whipped his head around, his protective instincts warring with his desire to comfort her.

Jesh sat up in the bed, her dark hair a tangled mess around her face and her grey eyes wide and uncertain as they darted around the unfamiliar surroundings.

The fear and panic from moments ago was replaced with wariness.

"Out," he bellowed at his teammates, not taking his eyes off her. He heard them shuffle out, the medbay door sliding shut behind them with a soft hiss. Only then did he allow his posture to relax, his claws and fangs retracting as he turned to face her fully.

"Hi," he said, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure. He had no idea how much she actually remembered. So how the hell did he tell a newly awakened cyborg she was on a mercenary ship after a rescue from a secret facility?