Page 27 of A Mate For Matrix (Cyborg Protection Unit #1)

Chapter Nineteen

J ana bit her lip as she stared out the front view screen.

Matrix had asked her to keep a visual on the spaceship that was growing larger and closer by the minute.

She knew he had done it mostly to keep her out of his and K-Nine’s way.

She didn’t mind. There wasn’t a lot she could do except corral the kittens who had decided whatever was going on was too scary for them.

Matrix hadn’t said more than a few clipped words since collapsing from that…

connection. He’d woken with a strangled cry, his body soaked in sweat, trembling with an urgency that made her heart twist. Within minutes, he’d rebooted K-Nine with an override command and snapped out orders like a war general fresh from the frontlines.

Strict instructions. No more external connections. No delays. No distractions.

Just get The Nebulosity ready to leave as quickly as possible.

Her breath caught, and relief surged through her as the familiar low hum of the ship’s power core throbbed beneath her feet. The lights brightened. Consoles flickered alive. Somewhere beneath them, the engines purred with readiness.

Matrix appeared a second later, wiping a smudge of black grease from his cheek with the back of his glove. His expression was taut, but victorious.

She straightened. “Matrix? What’s happening?”

He tapped a few keys on the console. The screens responded like loyal soldiers.

“Everything’s back online,” he replied, his voice still edged with tension.

Her eyes returned to the looming presence out the viewport.

The approaching ship hovered in the darkness like a question waiting to be answered. It was close now—close enough to make out its unusual design. Not sleek. Not industrial. Something in-between. Familiar yet foreign.

“K-Nine,” Matrix barked, “cloak, full field. Prepare for immediate departure on my command.”

“Engaging cloak. Calculating possible safe jump vectors,” K-Nine responded in a clipped voice, sharper than usual.

Matrix turned to her. “Strap in. This might get tricky.”

Her heart thudded as she slid the harness over her shoulders. “What are you going to do?”

Matrix gave her a grim smile, all edges and shadows. “Depends on what they do.”

At her feet, the kittens meowed—anxious and confused by the shift in mood. She scooped them up, tucking Butter and Biscuit into her lap while Honeybun scrambled up to her shoulder, hiding in her hair with a trembling purr.

Outside the ship, the approaching vessel slowed—hovering just beyond weapons range. No IFF ping. No obvious threat. But the silence made it worse.

“Matrix…” she said softly.

He didn’t respond. He was watching the screen. And then—he stiffened.

Jana leaned forward, trying to read his expression. Confusion. Suspicion. A flicker of… hope?

Matrix reached forward and opened a comm line.

“Unidentified vessel,” he said coolly, “you are approaching a Confederation-class long-range military starship. Identify yourself.”

Static.

Then—

A sudden blast of alien voices—overlapping, cursing, arguing. It sounded like at least two men on the other side were bickering about something, one voice deep and deliberate, the other smooth, but more agitated.

K-Nine snorted—a mechanical wolfhound’s version of a laugh.

Matrix’s lips twitched.

“…Is this an alien version of a bitch session?” Jana asked, her eyebrows rising.

The smoother-pitched voice barked something about not trusting “what might be a long-range starship or a damn Alluthan trap.”

“Alluthan?” Matrix asked, pressing a control. “What’s an Alluthan?”

The comm went silent for a beat.

Then the deeper voice replied, this time in perfect Confederation Standard—so clear, Jana’s translator didn’t even need to adjust.

“My name’s Seal. My companion is Bulldog Ti’Death.”

Jana blinked. “Ti’Death? Is that… a real name?”

A rustle, a curse, and more bickering came from the speakers.

“…And if this is a Confederation long-range vessel and not an Alluthan bait ship, then where’s your proof? That class was decommissioned over seven hundred cycles ago!” Seal snapped at his companion.

Matrix’s hand hovered over the weapon controls.

Then the video feed snapped on.

Matrix’s eyes flared.

On screen stood a figure with pale bluish-gray skin and ridged cheekbones. Behind him, another form loomed—dark, blood-red, massive, muscled, and grinning with far too many sharp teeth.

“Stand down, Zion warrior,” the gray-skinned male said, lifting his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “We’re not here to fight.”

But Matrix had already flinched back from the screen. His jaw clenched.

“Is that—?” Jana asked softly.

“A Razor-tooth Triterian—and one of those creatures I saw in my vision,” Matrix replied. “Triterians don’t travel with others. Or… they didn’t.”

The sharp-toothed alien on the screen grinned wider. His teeth gleamed in the artificial light. “Well, well. Looks like you’re not from around here—or now.” He leaned forward with curious amusement. “Are you lost, friend?” the Triterian asked.

Jana couldn’t help herself. She stared at the screen in awe and said, “Yes, we are, by about 850 years and a gazillion space miles—or however time-space continuum goes. I’ve only seen Back to the Future, so I don’t know all the scientific lingo.”

Matrix groaned.

The massive Triterian barked out a laugh. “You sound just like my daughter, Skeeter.” He turned to Seal. “Permission to board, Commander?”

Matrix started to protest—too late.

“Oh! We have our first visitor—not counting the weird, creepy vision ones you had, Matrix. I’ll go make some refreshments!” Jana offered brightly, already unbuckling her harness.

Matrix groaned louder, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I swear to the stars, if this ends in a diplomatic incident over cookies …”

Behind him, K-Nine muttered, “You get the red Triterian. Those guys are known for ripping out guts and asking questions later. I’ll take the gray dude.”

Matrix stood silently in the shadowed alcove just off the docking bay, arms folded, his eyes locked on the blinking panel that signaled the incoming shuttle’s approach.

His neural link thrummed beneath his skin, feeding him real-time updates from The Nebulosity’s core systems, but his mind wasn’t focused on diagnostics.

He didn’t like this.

Not the docking. Not the guests. Definitely not the idea of Jana, sweet, na?ve Jana, bustling around like she was hosting a diplomatic tea party while an unverified Triterian and an alien who looked suspiciously similar to the ones from his hellish mind-merge approached his ship.

K-Nine and I can control the ship from anywhere , he reminded himself. But it didn’t matter. His instincts had locked into battle mode the moment he saw Seal’s skin tone and build.

A shiver crawled down his spine, memory wrapping around him like ice: the Hive Queen’s voice echoed in his skull, her promises, her demands. The weight of future destruction.

We should be gone. Retreating. Running, Matrix thought.

K-Nine’s dry voice cut into his neural link like a well-timed slap. “And retreat to where, exactly? Until we know more about where—and when—we are, we could end up parked in the middle of a Crawler nest or a Triterian-held zone. I don’t know which would be worse.”

Matrix grimaced. He hated it when the wolfhound made sense.

“Noted,” he replied grimly. “Still don’t like it.”

A soft hiss echoed through the bay as the docking tube connected with a muted clang. The lights shifted to amber. The shuttle was secure.

Matrix exhaled, then discreetly tried to run a scan on the approaching vessel.

Denied.

A barrier. Not just shielding—sophisticated encryption. He cursed under his breath. Asking K-Nine to try might be dangerous. The last thing they needed was another neurological implosion or, worse, an opening for the Hive.

His jaw tightened. He nodded to K-Nine.

“Open the safety hatch. Be ready.”

K-Nine moved forward. “I should mention,” he added in a grumble, “the gray-skinned male—Seal—has genetic and skeletal similarities to you. Almost identical structure… but across his entire body.”

Matrix stiffened. “That much augmentation would kill a man.”

“Apparently not,” K-Nine replied with zero reassurance.

A low clang signaled the inner lock disengaging.

Matrix drew in a breath as the Triterian entered first—and the breath caught in his throat.

Stars above … He had forgotten how massive they were. A full head taller than Matrix, broad enough to block the light behind him, and wearing the relaxed confidence of someone who could disassemble a tank with his bare hands—all six of them.

Only one Triterian had ever left an impression on Matrix: Kantor the Vicious. A bloodthirsty ally during an undercover operation who’d gutted an entire pirate crew with disturbing joy.

Matrix stiffened when three streaks of fur bolted past him.

“What the?—”

“NO!” K-Nine barked. “MY PACK!”

Matrix watched in abject horror as Butter, Biscuit, and Honeybun dashed across the docking bay, mewling excitedly.

The Triterian chuckled and bent with impossible grace, scooping each kitten into a separate hand with the ease of a seasoned handler.

“Well, aren’t you just precious little fluffs of chaos,” the alien rumbled. His laugh was deep and unbothered. “Feels like I’m back on the Lula Belle .”

Seal groaned behind him. “Please no. Not the Lula Belle . I still have neural scarring from that mission.”

Matrix’s mouth opened to demand answers—but before he could say anything, Jana burst through the hatch between him and K-Nine in a frantic dash, her eyes wide with exasperation.

“Stop! No, kittens!”

Matrix reflexively lifted his weapon. Seal lifted both hands.

“Don’t shoot!” Seal called quickly. “I bruise easily.”

The Triterian kept laughing. “Hell, this is exactly like the Lula Belle .”

Jana skidded to a stop and stared at the Triterian with wide eyes. “Oh, my! You… you look like a dragon!”