Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

C herie

I stifled a yawn as I trudged down the gleaming corridor of Durmox C7's cyborg conversion facility. The harsh fluorescent lights made my eyes ache, a constant reminder that I was light-years from the warm glow of Earth's sun. My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, each one a lonely percussion in the symphony of whirring machines and distant alien chatter.

Another day, another challenge in this innovative lab where biology and technology danced a dangerous tango. I loved it. I hated it. Some days, I wasn't sure which feeling won out.

As I approached the main conversion chamber, my heart rate picked up. Today was no ordinary day. Today, I'd be overseeing my first solo conversion—and not just any conversion. I had the privilege of overseeing my first solo conversion, and my subject was none other than Egni, the legendary alien warrior whose exploits were whispered about in hushed tones even here, at the edge of known space.

I paused outside the chamber, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. "You've got this, Cherie," I muttered to myself, a habit I'd never quite shaken. "Just another day at the office. If you can handle quantum flux generators, you can handle one beat-up alien."

The door hissed open, and I stepped into organized chaos. Alien techs bustled about, their tentacles and appendages a blur as they prepped equipment. In the center of it all, strapped to a conversion table, lay Egni.

I'd seen the specs, of course. I knew that some far-off battle had shattered his body beyond recognition. But nothing had prepared me for the reality. His olive skin was a patchwork of scars and cybernetic implants, his muscular frame held together by a complex exoskeleton. Only his eyes seemed truly alive—piercing green orbs that locked onto me the moment I entered.

I swallowed hard and approached, datapad clutched to my chest like a shield. "Hello, Egni. I'm Cherie. I'll be overseeing your conversion today."

His gaze didn't waver. When he spoke, his voice was a deep rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "Human. They send a human for this?"

I bristled at the dismissal in his tone. "I assure you, I'm more than qualified?—"

"Qualifications mean nothing," he cut me off. "Have you ever rebuilt a warrior, human? Have you tasted battle, felt the weight of lives in your hands?"

I clenched my jaw, fighting back the urge to snap at him. This was exactly what I'd feared at being seen as an outsider, a weak link in this alien world. But I wouldn't let him see how much his words stung.

"No," I admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. "But I've rebuilt quantum cores under fire from solar flares. I've reprogrammed nanobots mid-swarm to save a patient's life. My hands might not have held a weapon, but they've sure as hell held lives together."

Something flickered in those green eyes—surprise, maybe even a hint of respect. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that stoic mask.

"We shall see," was all he said.

I turned away, busying myself with the pre-conversion checklist. My hands shook slightly as I calibrated the neural interface, and I cursed inwardly. Get it together, Cherie. You can't afford mistakes, not with this one.

As I worked, Egni's eyes were on me, assessing every move. The weight of his gaze was almost physical, pressing down on my shoulders. I'd dealt with difficult patients before, but this... this was something else entirely.

"Initiating primary neural scan," I announced, more to break the oppressive silence than anything else. The chamber hummed to life, holographic displays flickering with Egni's vital signs and neural pathways.

I frowned at the readings. "That's odd. Your pain receptors are completely dormant. Most subjects, even hardened warriors, show some activity..."

"Pain is a weakness," Egni said flatly. "I learned to master it long ago."

I glanced at him, a chill running down my spine. What kind of life had he led to view pain that way? For a moment, I saw past the scars and cybernetics, glimpsing the weight of years of battles, of loss in those ancient eyes.

"Well," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "that'll make the conversion process easier, at least. Less risk of neural shock."

I continued the preparations, losing myself in the familiar rhythm of the work. This, at least, I understood. The intricate dance of biology and technology, the delicate balance of organic and synthetic. Here, I wasn't an outsider. Here I was in my element.

As I was about to initiate the main conversion sequence, a hand gripped my arm. I jumped, turning to see Kraz, one of the senior alien techs. His compound eyes gleamed with urgency.

"A word, Cherie," he buzzed, mandibles clicking nervously. "In private."

Confused, I followed him to a corner of the chamber. "What is it, Kraz? We're about to start the critical phase?—"

"Be careful with this one," he hissed, voice low. "There are... whispers. About his past. About what he's capable of."

I frowned. "What do you mean? His file?—"

"His file is incomplete," Kraz cut me off. "There are gaps. Dark spaces where even the bravest don't dare look." He glanced nervously at Egni, who lay motionless on the table, eyes closed. "Just... watch yourself. Some warriors can't leave the battlefield behind, even when their bodies are broken."

With that cryptic warning, he scuttled away, leaving me standing there, an icy knot forming in the pit of my stomach. I looked back at Egni, suddenly seeing him in a new light. What secrets lay hidden behind those scars? What darkness lurked in the spaces between his fragmented memories?

As if sensing my gaze, his eyes snapped open, locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. In that moment, I realized I was standing on the edge of something far more dangerous than any technical challenge I'd faced before.

The conversion chamber suddenly felt tiny, and very far from home.