On a Rogue Planet (4 page)

“I was eleven.”

His voice was so quiet she barely heard him. “So young?”

“Yes. I am superbly adapted to receiving enhancements.”

“So they broke the rules? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“There is risk of emotional deadening.”

That didn’t sound good. “Which is what, exactly?”

“The risk that the subject’s ability to feel emotion will be completely destroyed.”

Sweet scrap. They’d do that to a child? “Did that happen to you?”

A long moment of silence. “Most people will tell you that I feel nothing.”

“It’s true, then, that CenSecs have no emotions?”

“That’s what people say.”

“And that’s not an answer.”

“Most CenSecs have emotions. They’re usually just dampened by our implants and filters when required. It makes us more efficient at our jobs.”

“None of those pesky emotions to get in your way.”

“Yes.”

“How did your parents feel about you getting your first implant?”

“Honored. They signed me over to Centax Security.”

Mal gasped, her chest heavy. “They…gave you away.”

“Yes.”

Just a single emotionless word. Mal couldn’t imagine it.

Xander’s fingers flexed. “It made sense. I was well suited to security. And they had my younger brother, Axton, to focus on.”

“Sorry, Xander, but I can’t understand how two people can make a child and give him away. My parents adored me. My mother died when I was young, and my father never got over her death, but I know he loved me and she did, too.”

“I don’t believe in love.”

Oh
. “Really?”

“I deal in facts. I have never felt love. I have seen people do terrible things in the name of love. And I have never experienced love from my family.”

Her heart squeezed. “Never?”

“They felt some degree of affection but on Centax, honor and achievement are just as important. For my parents, the honor of my selection to Security was a reasonable trade for the loss of a son.”

Her heart clenched. But what about him? The little boy who lost his family? “So Security looked after you?”

“Yes. They were responsible for my training.”

“That’s not what I meant. Did someone care for you? Hold you? Hug you?”

“No. Hugging is not encouraged.”

A small alarm sounded, shattering their conversation. “Environmental systems failing,” the computer chirped, the synthesized voice too cheerful for their current situation.

Mal’s eyelids fluttered closed. She was going to die, never having the family she’d always dreamed about. Never being the one important thing to someone. She reached out a hand, groping.

Her fingers touched Xander’s cool ones. She grabbed on. Was surprised when he squeezed her hand. She wasn’t completely alone. She’d hold onto that.

“Xander, I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

“It appears you are correct.”

The red alarm light flashed over them. Breathing was starting to hurt. “Someone should have hugged you, kissed you. All children should have that.”

His breathing was labored as well. “I…” his voice was a mere whisper “…wondered what it would feel like.”

She turned her hand, pressed her palm to his. “If we manage to get out of this alive, I’ll show you what it feels like.”

Another alarm. She tried to focus on the screen. Guessed enviro was finally giving up the ghost.

The computer chimed. “Khan in range.”

Mal’s heart kicked and she squinted at the viewscreen, where the large planet of Souk, a mixture of green farms and forests, and gray urban areas, came into view. Souk was a market world that supplied everyone in their star system, as well as those heading out of the quadrant on their adventures, with everything they needed to survive.

And circling it was the small captured-asteroid-turned-moon called Khan.

Home to the Phoenix brothers and their salvage and treasure-hunting business.

A place she’d never been happier to see.

“Home,” she whispered. “Xander—” she felt his fingers go lax in hers.

He’d lapsed back into unconsciousness. Like he’d only stayed conscious to help keep her awake. Her fingers spasmed around Xander’s. Her eyelids were so heavy, her arms and legs felt weightless. She drifted along in a doze, not caring about anything, noting bursts of color and the distant peal of alarms.

Even the huge explosion only made her blink.

The ship was shaking and the sound of tearing metal was deafening.

She stared at the viewscreen, saw her ship sliding along a pockmarked surface, heading toward the purple glow of the huma-dome surrounding the Phoenix headquarters.

That ripped her out of the haze.
Oh, stars.

She fumbled for the controls, but all the screens were blank. Fire was pouring from the console to her left.

And flames were streaming over the hull of the ship as well.

They slid inside the huma-dome and ahead she saw the fuel storage tanks. If they hit those—bile was an acid bite in her throat—everything would go up.

But thankfully the ship’s progress slowed and it jerked to a stop. She was tossed against her harness.

Seconds later, the ship’s fire-suppression system flared to life, dousing the console beside her and the outside of the crashed freighter with a super-fine mist.

She dragged in a shaky breath. “We made it.”

Xander was silent, slumped forward over the console.

Mal tried to move but couldn’t get her limbs working. Through the viewscreen, she saw the large doors of the hangar ahead open.

Then her cousins were sprinting toward the ship.

Dathan, bare-chested with cargo pants riding low on his hips, raced forward, a slim-line fire suppresser in his hands. On his left was his wife, Eos, carrying another suppresser, her long dark hair flowing out behind her. On Dathan’s right was Niklas, taller and broader than Dathan, his face more serious and studious.

Another body barreled out of the hangar, following close behind the trio.

Lala, teenaged bomb maker extraordinaire, danced up beside Niklas wearing a pair of neon pink pajamas. A droid the size of a small ball whizzed around her head in a dizzying dance while another bug-shaped droid clung to her shoulder.

The cavalry was coming.

Moments later, Mal heard the clang of metal and the hiss of a laser cutter. A wave of pressure swept the cockpit as air—sweet, sweet oxygen-filled air—flooded the ship.

“Mal! Fuck.”

Her cousin Dathan stormed into the cockpit and raced to her side. Nik was there seconds later.

She heard a hand-held suppression unit being used and felt hands pressed to her throat, brushing the hair off her face.

“She’s alive.” Intense relief in Dathan’s voice.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Nik’s voice. “Ship’s fire suppression system is working but can’t keep up with the fire.”

“She’ll be pissed. She loves this ship.”

She did. She forced her eyes open. “I’m awake.”

Dathan touched the side of her face. “Shit, Mal, what happened?”

“Fired on.”

“What? Why?”

“Save it, Dath,” Nik said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait!” Mal felt Dathan unstrapping her. “Got to get Xander, too.”

“Xander?” Dathan spun, finally noticing she wasn’t alone.

Nik was unruffled. “You get Mal. I’ll bring him.”

Mal intended to walk, but as soon as she stood, her knees gave way. Dathan swept her into his arms and headed out. Over his shoulder, Mal saw Nik heft the unconscious Xander over his shoulder with a grunt.

Dathan stormed off the ship and across the landing pads to where Eos waited with an arm around Lala.

“Mal, are you okay?” Eos hovered as Dathan set Mal down.

Mal gulped in large quantities of fresh air. Instantly, she felt much steadier. “I’m fine. Enviro was failing, but I’m better now.”

“We’ll check you out in the medbay, just in case,” Dathan said.

Nik arrived, leaned down, and laid Xander down on his back.

Everyone gasped.

“A Centaxian,” Eos breathed.

“And he’s wearing a fucking Centax Security uniform,” Dathan growled.

“Over one hell of a tight, hot body.” Lala rubbed her hands together. “Yum, yum.”

Everyone ignored her.

“Everybody get back,” Dathan warned, shoving Lala back and gripping Eos’s arm. “He’s dangerous.”

“What the hell is a CenSec doing on your ship, Mal?” Nik said.

“It’s a long story.” Mal knelt beside Xander, worried that he hadn’t yet regained consciousness. She touched the side of his neck, felt his erratic pulse.

“Mal—”

“It’s okay, Dath. He won’t hurt anyone.”

Eos leaned closer, studying Xander like she did her ancient artifacts. “His left arm looks mechanical.”

There was a long tear in his uniform sleeve and beneath, his left arm was silver-gray.

“Mal, I think you should get back—”

“He’s injured.” She speared her cousin with a look. “He helped me escape Centax and survive an attack on my ship. Without him, I’d be dead.” With an unsteady hand, Mal pushed back Xander’s dark hair. “He was shot with some sort of energy weapon and then interfaced with my ship. He’s been out a really long time.” Too long.

“I’ll get the medscope.” Nik took off at a steady jog.

“You never know what a cyborg can do, Mal.” Dathan’s frown was in his voice.

Without warning, Xander’s eyes snapped open.

Those unique, concentric bands of green and gold stared up at Mal, slightly unfocused.

But then his gaze sharpened, the green in his eyes changing to a bright, neon glow as he stared at her.

“Malin,” he rasped.

She grabbed his hand. “You’re okay, Xander. We made it.”

His fingers flexed on hers, then he slumped back into unconsciousness. Suddenly his back arched and his body started shuddering.

“What’s happening?” Mal gripped his shoulders.

“Some sort of seizure.” Eos knelt beside Mal.

Mal had to use all her strength to keep him down. With a curse, Dathan helped her.

“We need to get him to the medbay.” A trickle of blood came from his ear and Mal’s heart kicked her ribs. Stars, what was wrong with him?

“Hang on.” Nik was back with the medscope. He flicked on the slim device, blue light shining out of it. He waved it over Xander’s face. “Shit. It’s not working. No response.”

Normally, the medscope could deal with small and medium wounds, but anything worse needed more powerful medical equipment. Mal’s stomach did a slow tumble. He’d be okay. He had to be. “Try again.” She shot Nik a frantic nod. “Anything?”

“Nothing’s registering. It’s like something’s jamming it.”

Realization hit. “His enhancements.” Mal shifted. “We have to get him to the medbay.”

Dathan gripped Xander under his arms and Nik grabbed his feet. Dathan grunted. “Heavy bastard.”

Together, they made their way inside.

“Lala, back to your room,” Dathan said.

“Dath—”

“No. We don’t need anything blown up. Back to your bed.”

Lala poked her tongue out. “Fine. Mal, hope your sexy cyborg’s okay.” She trudged off, her pet droids following.

Mal raced alongside Xander, willing him to hold on.

Eos and Mal ran into the medbay and cleared off the bed.

Nik and Dathan set Xander down and Eos swung the moveable arm of the medscanner over him, across his chest. It whirred quietly as it went to work.

“Mal, get his shirt off.” Eos bustled back to the shelves, grabbing medical equipment.

Right. Mal found the fastenings at the shoulders. The black fabric fell away, baring dark-bronze skin stretched tight over a muscled chest with a light covering of dark hair. Mal drew in a sharp breath.

He was
covered
in enhancements.

A row of round, silver implants—that looked similar to the cogs on his uniform insignia—curved along his left collarbone. His left arm was entirely silver-gray, all the way to the shoulder joint. Unable to help herself, Mal touched his forearm. It felt like skin, felt warm, but was really smooth.

More silver implants circled his right wrist. Under his gorgeous skin that she couldn’t help but want to touch, she saw a faint neon-green glow in his veins.

What had they done to him?

Unlike cyborgs from other parts of the galaxy, there were no ugly scars, no Frankenstein-like mishmashing of parts. No, the Centaxian scientists prided themselves on aesthetics and perfect work.

Then she noted the jagged slash on his side. Claw marks. Stars, he’d been bleeding the whole time on her ship!

“We have to close this wound. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Mal grabbed a steri-pad from Eos and jammed it against the wounds.

Eos let out a frustrated noise. “Scanner’s not working. But from the look of that bruising, he’s probably got internal bleeding as well.”

If he’d been on Centax, he’d have expert doctors with equipment to treat a cyborg. Mal’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t die. “Nik, go get my portable diag-comp. Now!”

With a nod, her cousin ran out of the room.

“Eos, hand me the medscope.”

Eos obeyed, even as she shook her head. “Mal, it’s useless—”

Mal gripped the tool, the metal smooth in her palm. When Nik returned, she took the diag-comp that she usually used on her salvaged engines and ship computers and went to work.

He was part human, part machine. They couldn’t help him with equipment designed just for the human side. She tapped the screen of the diag with one hand and slowly swept the medscope over Xander with the other, studying the results and attempting to circumvent whatever was stopping the medscope working.
There
. The diag screen showed the program running, no doubt from some implant deeply embedded in his brain.

She refocused, set the medscope down to tap in commands on her diag.
Come on. Come on.
Her attempt failed and she swore under her breath. She noted his seizure had stopped and he was still. So still.

No.
“I’m not going to let you die, damn it!” She worked the code again. The diag beeped.
Got it.
She snatched up the medscope, flicked it on again.

Blue light bathed his skin. The cuts started to knit before her eyes.