Page 7 of Her Alien Cyborgs (The Drift: Haven Colony #10)

An hour later, Hezza was ready to scream in frustration. They had a workable plan, but it wouldn’t work if Barrios would not agree to let the two cyborgs out of their cell.

“Security on my ship is my call, and I’m not allowing those two on board unless they are restrained and have an armed escort. My brig can hold them until they can be assessed and debriefed.” The commander had repeated the same line three times in as many minutes, and she wanted to smack him for it.

“That was never the plan,” Scott retorted. “Any prisoners we recovered were to be provided with housing and medical support. We even agreed on which deck would be designated for their use. There’s no reason for these changes.”

“There’s every reason. Those two are not like any cyborg we’ve ever encountered.

We have no idea what they’re capable of or why they were left behind.

I will do whatever is necessary to protect my crew.

Either they go into cryo-pods, or they have to be restrained.

” Barrios folded his arms and nodded as if this would end the argument.

“That can’t happen. If you separate them, there is every likelihood that the two cyborgs will go insane and possibly die,” Phylomenia chimed in.

The arrogant little wapiti shrugged as if this was not a concern. “Then they should go into cryo. From what I understand, that should slow the mating fever down.”

“But you don’t know for sure,” Hezza countered.

“Of course I don’t. This is another species we’re talking about. Which is why I intend to return them to Vardarian space, eventually.”

“Eventually is not good enough,” Archer said. “They should be free to go now.”

“We don’t even know if the empress will accept them. Hells, you haven’t asked what they want.” Guilt hit hard the moment those words left Hezza’s lips. She hadn’t asked them either. The two big cyborgs paced behind the bars of their cell, listening to the argument without comment.

Fraxx .

She turned away from the others to face the two males. “I’m sorry. We’re talking about your lives and not even including you in the conversation. Fyr’enth and Kalan, what do you want?”

“I want out of this cell!” Kalan snarled.

“And to get far away from this place,” Fyr’enth said. “We told you already. We are not Vardarian. This empire you mentioned has nothing to do with us. Why send us somewhere we have no desire to go?”

All three of them were agitated as they dealt with the situation and the sharhal .

The longer they were in the same room, the more intense things got.

At this point, she had to fight the urge to stand next to the bars just to be closer to them.

Thinking was almost impossible because her head was full of erotic images of what she wanted to be doing right now and what she wished the two young males would do to her.

Barrios huffed. “This is ridiculous. I won’t be dictated to by a group of civilians and a couple of machines .”

She was in his personal space less than a second later, glowering down at him with one hand clenched into a fist at her side. “Cyborgs are not machines. They’re living beings.”

“That is your opinion. Some of us see things differently.”

The opportunity was too good to pass up. Was this how they’d planned it? Not by a light-year, but they hadn’t expected Barrios to be this difficult.

This might be their best chance, so she took it. “In that case, there’s no way these two are going on your ship. They will stay with me on the Gambit . That way your precious ship and crew are safe from them, and they will be safe from you.”

Scott shot her a sour look but stayed silent.

Barrios turned a satisfying shade of crimson, spluttered, and had to take several deep breaths before he spoke again. “Unacceptable!”

Fyr’enth joined the conversation before anything else was said. “We agree to this proposal.”

That simple statement filled her with an unexpected sense of warmth and acceptance. This stupid sharhal thing was even worse than she’d been told. How was she supposed to function like this?

“Commander Barrios. Given your personal feelings about cyborgs, I have to agree with Hezza’s suggestion,” Garrett said. He had more wealth and influence than the rest of them put together, and Barrios knew it. He also knew he’d fraxxed up by saying what he had.

Two seconds later, he caved. “If it means keeping those two off my ship, I’ll agree to it. But!” He raised a finger. “I insist they be escorted to the civilian’s ship by six of my soldiers. And all of this is going into my report.”

“We will also be submitting a report,” Scott said.

Then he looked at her. “Hezza will put together a list of supplies she’ll need.

I’m happy to transfer the goods from the Bat and then request replacements from your quartermaster once we’re back on board.

” His lips quirked up into a brief but dangerous smile.

“After all, the cyborgs are guests of the IAF. Their care and comfort are your responsibility, Commander Barrios.”

She managed to hide her amusement and keep a straight face, but it wasn’t easy. “Of course. I’ll have that for you by the time we get to the ships. It won’t be much, just food, sundries, and a supply of raw materials for producing clothing and anything else they need.”

Barrios went a darker shade of crimson but only gave a terse nod.

“Could we let our guests out of their cell now?” Hezza asked, her voice as sweet as syrup.

Another nod.

“Thank you, Commander.” She turned toward the two cyborgs and finally let herself smile. They were one step closer to freedom. Now…came the hard part.

True to his word, Scott arranged for several crates of goods to be transferred to her ship. His ship’s AI was more advanced than the one on her vessel. It accepted his directions and had everything packed and waiting before they reached the shuttle bay, where both ships were parked.

She sent instructions for her ship to send out the cargo droids to collect everything, and just like that, she had everything they would need for the next part of the plan. The bit where she flew like hell to get away from Barrios and anyone else who might be a threat to her new charges.

While she was worried about them, they seemed more concerned about her safety.

The moment the cell door opened, they’d taken up positions on either side of her, both of them extending one wing to shield her back.

Later, she intended to ask about their wings.

They were not the standard for their species.

Instead of a membrane stretched over their bone structure, these looked more like the wings of a bird, complete with metallic feathers.

They’d stayed quiet and watchful for the entire trip back up to the hangar deck.

Now that no bars stood between them, they were impossible to ignore.

Even if she hadn’t been hit with the mating fever whammy, she suspected she’d have enjoyed looking at them.

Attractive wasn’t a strong enough word, and beautiful was too gentle a description. They were mesmerizing.

Kalan and Fyr’enth walked with purpose, their gait carefully measured to match the smaller humans around them. Despite the restriction, they moved like predators.

Part of her knew it would be wise to be wary of them, but she wasn’t. Even stronger than her physical attraction and hormone-fueled urges was a sense of security and rightness that was as unsettling as it was unfamiliar.

It took an alarming amount of effort to drag her attention off the pair of cyborgs and back to reality, but she managed.

Mostly. The soldiers were already turning away when she tripped over the threshold of her own blasted entry hatch.

Kalan caught her hand to steady her, and she allowed herself to enjoy that brief touch longer than she should have.

With a mental shake, she let him go and turned to close and seal the hatch.

“Computer, secure all cargo for hard maneuvers, and confirm that all hatches are closed and sealed.”

“Hatches are sealed. Cargo is being secured now.” The flat, sexless voice of her ship’s AI stated.

“Good. Once that’s done, have the bots prep both passenger cabins for…” She looked at her companions and did some quick thinking. They would need a lot of space. “Prep the cabins for Torski-sized passengers. Oh, and prepare for launch.”

“Tasks registered and in progress.”

With that done, she turned to face the two cyborgs. “Fyr’enth and Kalan, welcome aboard the Desperate Gambit . I’ll show you your quarters and give you the grand tour once we’re safely on our way. For now, please come with me.”

She gestured down the corridor toward the cockpit and led the way there. “I don’t suppose either of you has flight training?”

Fyr’enth only shook his head, but Kalan spoke up. “We have ship-to-ship weapons training, but no piloting skills.”

“That makes sense. Why teach your prisoners anything that might help them escape?” she said.

“Exactly,” Kalan said. “Will you teach us?”

That was an easy question to answer. “I’d be happy to. It’ll help us pass the time. We’re weeks away from anything that resembles civilization.”

“And the more civilized an area, the more likely that someone like Barrios will be there, looking for us, so we’ll be keeping to the fringes?” Fyr’enth asked.

“I’ve got a few places in mind.” They’d touched on that topic during the planning stage, but only in general terms. The less Phylomenia and the others knew, the better.

They reached the cockpit, and she slid into her seat. “One of you can squeeze into the copilot’s seat. The other can take the gunner’s chair. Strap in and don’t touch anything. We’re about to find out if the parts I acquired from the Bright Arrow’s inventory are as good as I think they are.”

“Acquired?” Fyr’enth asked.

“You stole them?” Kal said with what she thought was a hint of approval.

She laughed. “I prefer to call it creative acquisition, but Barrios would definitely call it stealing.”

Kalan grinned widely enough she saw his fangs. “So, we are escaping that bakaffa using parts you stole from his own ship?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I like this plan,” Kalan said.

The two of them went quiet, and she assumed they were having the same sort of internal conversation the cyborgs she knew in Haven sometimes had. After a few seconds, Fyr’enth claimed the seat beside her while Kalan tried to fold himself into the gunner’s chair.

If they were still alive and in the clear after this, she’d have to make some changes to the ship’s layout.

A little voice piped up from the back of her mind, reminding her that the size of the chairs was the least of her problems. Adjusting the ship was easy.

Accepting that she might have just experienced the alien version of a shotgun wedding?

That was going to take some work… and a cargo crate full of chocolate.

The launch protocols were almost complete when she got the call. Phylomenia’s face filled the monitor, an easy smile on her lips.

“You ready?”

“We’re all settled in and ready to launch.

Barrios sent over instructions on where he wants us.

It shouldn’t be a problem.” The entire conversation was a performance, but they both played their roles.

It was meant to give Phylomenia and her group cover and make it look like they had no idea what was about to happen.

“We’ll talk once we’re underway. Just wanted you to know we’re ready when you are.”

Hezza nodded. “Then I’ll get out of your way. Enjoy your time on the Arrow . I’ll keep you updated.”

The screen went black, and two seconds later her comm chimed.

Every message sent this way was heavily encrypted and undetectable over short distances like this.

“Hello again,” she greeted her friend.

“Scott’s ready. The effect should hit every vessel in the vicinity, but he’s not sure for how long. You’ll have to be fast.”

“We’ll manage. Thank you for everything. The invitation to come on this mission, and for well, everything. Same goes for your men. They’re not bad for a couple of military types.”

“Take care of yourself and your new mates. We’ll make sure the other cyborgs are safely delivered to Haven. Barrios is a biased, wrong-thinking idiot, but I don’t think he’s working for the Shadows. Even if he is? We’ll see this through.”

“We will,” she agreed, ignoring the part of her mind screaming in panic about the easy way Phylomenia called them her mates . “When you get to the colony, tell Anya the first round of drinks is on me.”

Phylomenia laughed at that. “Your daughter will be the one who needs a drink when I tell her what’s going on.”

“True, but it’s her bar. I’m not paying for her drinks. She can buy her own.”

Archer said something off screen, and Phylomenia’s expression turned serious. “It’s showtime.” She raised a hand in a gesture of farewell. “Fly faster than your troubles, my friend.”

Hezza mirrored the gesture as she completed the old smuggler’s refrain. “May good fortune be your copilot.”

She secured her comm and flexed her fingers over the controls.

“We’re out of here,” she said without looking back. “Welcome to freedom, you two. Brace yourselves; this next bit is going to be fun.”