Page 11 of Her Cyborg Commander (The Drift: Haven Colony #9)

10

The first few days on the planet she now thought of as DB-1—which sounded better than calling the place Dust Bowl—passed in a blur of hard work and temperatures that gave her unexpected insight into what it must be like to be a blade in a blacksmith’s forge. Her enhancements and medi-bots allowed her to function in the heat, but it wasn’t comfortable. She regretted not bringing along some of the light fabric dresses the Vardarian females favored. They’d suit her current situation better than the military fatigues she’d taken from the stores back on Haven. By the end of her second day, she’d taken a knife to several pairs of pants, turning them into shorts. Those and a tank top were her daily wardrobe, though she kept wearing her heavy boots. The rocks were surprisingly sharp, and there were far too many things here that bit and stung to even think about wandering around barefoot.

After some thought, River opted to place the solar panels on top of the rocks surrounding her camp. It took her longer to clean them that way, but it allowed her to keep the area around her shelter clear of obstacles. It also meant the panels got more sunlight each day. She didn’t have concerns about power consumption, but keeping the batteries full meant she wouldn’t have to worry if a dust storm or other weather phenomenon blocked out the sun for more than a day or two.

Most of her time and energy were spent making her new home as secure as she could. Motion-activated cameras covered the entrance to her camp and several other areas she considered might be used by someone trying to get the drop on her. She’d had Hezza acquire a few other surprises as well. She slept better now they were all in place.

The cameras did more than watch for intruders. They provided River with her first real look at the local fauna. While the planet had been surveyed extensively from orbit and even had a few probes land on the surface, the information on the wildlife here had been minimal.

There were small invertebrates of all kinds, some winged, some terrestrial. Reptiles were another common sight on the cameras, though she had only seen a handful in person. All the wildlife in the area seemed most active from dusk until dawn. The other thing she noticed was that none of the fauna would stay in one place for long. They moved constantly, keeping to the rocks when they could.

It wasn’t until the third night that she spotted the reason creatures here never stopped moving. They were being hunted.

The local predators looked a bit like armor-plated flounder, only their mouths were on the tops of their bodies instead of the underside. They moved through the sand as easily as a fish through water, ambushing their prey from below and dragging their meals beneath the sand. The ones she’d seen weren’t much bigger than a dinner plate, but she had to assume there were larger ones out there where the sand was deeper. Thankfully, these predators, which she dubbed sand sharks, never came too near her camp, probably because of the rocky terrain and shallow sand.

The reason why most of the creatures were nocturnal was obvious. The temperature soared every afternoon, driving most life to seek shelter from the blistering sun. River followed their example. She’d retreat to the comfort of her shelter during the hottest part of the day and pass the time reading on her tablet, watching entertainment vids, and doing maintenance on the gear she relied on to stay alive. The sand and grit got into everything, wearing on moving parts and clogging up the systems that provided her with cool air and safe water.

There was more than enough work to keep her busy every day. Too busy to let herself think about home, or Troyan Jens, or all the people she’d left behind. Nights were a different matter.

The nights were quiet, with only the song of the wind blowing through the rocks and the whisper of shifting sand. Sometimes she’d hear the skitter and patter of individual grains as it blew into the walls of her shelter.

Evenings always brought back thoughts of Haven. She thought about the lush forests and summer breeze that always carried a hint of wildflowers and warm grass. She missed the bustle of the markets and the scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery on the far side of the river from her house.

To combat the melancholy, River started drawing again. Her small habitat didn’t have the room for paints or anything elaborate, but she’d included a collection of sketch pencils and even a few pastels. The simple fabricator she’d purchased could make paper, though she had to be sure to recycle most of it so it didn’t take away from other items she’d need.

She sketched scenes from home, like the view of the river from her back porch, along with scenes of day to day that were a composite of memories. She drew her friends’ faces, conjuring their likeness as if that could keep the loneliness at bay. Sometimes it did.

Tonight, it wasn’t working. She sat at what she jokingly called her kitchen table. It was little more than a fold-down shelf between two narrow benches. When pulled down, it provided a flat surface just big enough for a couple of plates, or several sheets of paper and her art supplies.

She hadn’t really been paying attention to what she was doing. It was something to pass the time and let her process what she was feeling in a constructive way. Or that was what her counselor had called it. The sketch was almost finished before she was aware of who she’d drawn.

Edge. Not the way he looked most of the time, but the way she’d seen him some nights when he’d fallen asleep beside her, determined to protect her even while he slept. It hadn’t happened often. Edge rarely slept back then. She didn’t know if that had changed, but she doubted it.

The image was a side of him not many of the others would recognize. All his sharp edges were softened, his normally hard mouth relaxed, his lips full beneath his beard.

Veth , she missed them all. She hadn’t expected it to be this hard. She’d been alone before, and while she’d expected to feel sad, she hadn’t expected the sense of loss that matched her grief for her long-dead batch-siblings. More than anyone else, she missed him .

“Stupid,” she lashed herself with the single word as she crumpled up the sketch and tossed it against the wall of the shelter. It rebounded lightly and fell back onto the tiny table.

Without thinking, she picked it up and smoothed it flat again, letting her fingers caress the lines of his face as she did.

Why him? she wondered as she stared at the portrait. Of all the beings in her life, why was he the one she had the most trouble moving on from?

It might be because they’d never had a chance. One of them was always too busy, or too broken. Edge had his demons, and she had hers. She would never be whole again. Jens had seen to that. Despite all the work she’d done to reclaim her real self and to rebuild who she’d once been, it would never be the same. She was still broken. A dark, secret part of her would always crave the glorious surrender that came with submitting to someone else’s desires.

She could hardly even think about that part of herself. Talking to anyone else about it would never happen. It was too embarrassing, too humiliating to admit that whatever Jens had done to her, she hadn’t been able to undo it. She expected to take that secret to her grave, which was the reason she’d never shown interest in any male in the colony. Even if she found someone she thought might accept her damage, she wasn’t sure she’d ever trust anyone in the galaxy enough to give them her submission.

If that wasn’t broken, she didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Frustration pushed her to her feet. “And that’s enough of that. No more wallowing. If you can’t find something useful to do, River, get your ass to bed.”

Talking to herself was a new habit, but one she figured couldn’t hurt. It’s not like anyone was around to judge her for it. She tidied up a little and then double-checked that everything was locked down for the night. The last thing she did was strip out of her clothes and place them in a bag near the door. Laundry was on tomorrow’s chore list. She’d get it done first thing in the morning and lay it all out on the sun-warmed rocks to dry. It wouldn’t be the same as having freshly dried towels set out by the household bots of home, but at least she’d have clean clothes.

She ascended the short ladder to her loft but only made it to the second rung when an alarm sounded.

She reacted immediately by stepping off the ladder and letting herself drop back to the floor. She hit the ground and pivoted until she saw her tablet. Along with the books and other forms of entertainment, it was the control hub for the shelter and her security system.

Her fingers flew over the screen, tapping at icons as she brought up the camera feeds. It felt as if it took ages for the images to load. Part of her knew that was because her sense of time was skewed by adrenaline, but the rest of her mind screamed at the perceived delay. She needed to know what was out there. Sure, it was most likely a sand shark large enough to set off the motion detectors, but what if it wasn’t?

One by one, the gray-scale images appeared. When she saw what the fourth camera had captured, a fresh dump of adrenaline flooded her system. She zoomed in, ignoring the way her finger trembled slightly. It wasn’t much more than a shadow moving through the deep darkness, but it was enough to tell her that her visitor wasn’t a sand shark, or any other type of local fauna. Someone was out there, and they were headed straight for her camp.

Instinct drove her reactions. She hadn’t fully prepared for this possibility because she hadn’t expected anyone to find her this quickly. She’d been planet-side for less than a week! Her mind raced as she donned the bare necessities for what came next. The chest plate of her armor felt cool against her bare skin as she snapped the clasps that locked it into place. She jammed her bare feet into her boots without bothering to tighten the laces. Like her armor, her weapons were stored in a cabinet near the door. She yanked it open and pulled out a pulse rifle. She did the weapon check automatically, confirming it was in safe mode and had a full charge before slinging it over her shoulder.

Time to go.

She turned off the lights before opening the door. It would give her eyes a few extra seconds to adjust as well as stop light-leakage from announcing the location of her shelter.

Outside, the wind was almost cool compared to the vicious heat of the day, but the sand still radiated enough heat that she felt it through the soles of her boots. She switched her vision to the infrared spectrum, allowing her to see in the dark. She turned up all her other senses, too, even taste and smell. She became the hunter once again, falling back on training and programming she hadn’t used since the Resource Wars ended.

For now, she couldn’t sense the intruder, but she knew which direction they had to come from, which gave her the advantage. The simplest course of action would be to jump onto the roof of her shelter and wait for them to come to her. It was too obvious for her liking, not to mention she’d risk making too much noise when she landed on the roof. Instead, she made her way up to the lookout point she’d discovered on her first day. It would give her the high ground and ensure that whoever was out there couldn’t know her exact position.

She made each leap carefully, doing all she could to stay quiet. Despite her best efforts, the soft thud of each landing and the slip of her boots on the thin coating of sand over the rocks made her wince and freeze until she was sure she hadn’t been heard.

Once she made it to her chosen position, she scanned the entire area. Nothing. With the rocks still radiating warmth, there was no point in trying to look for heat signatures. She’d have to wait this out.

In a motion so ingrained she didn’t have to think about it, she tugged on the strap of her rifle, bringing it over her shoulder and into her waiting hands. Cloaked in darkness and as ready as she could be, she froze. Cyborgs could hold perfectly still for hours at a time. None of them knew exactly how it worked, but all of them could make a conscious choice to go completely still.

She waited.

The night wind sang, almost obscuring the sound of movement. The slip of boot moving against sand and then a click that seemed as loud as a rifle shot.

A flash of light erupted, accompanied by a brief cry of surprise and pain.

“Got you,” she whispered. Now she knew where the intruder was, even if she couldn’t see them. The voice was distinctly male, which ended any supposition that it might be Hezza coming back to try and talk her out of staying here.

The pressure plate she’d buried beneath the sand was wired to a small battery. It didn’t have enough juice to be lethal, but it would put any being smaller than a Torski on their ass and possibly knock them unconscious.

She crept closer to the intruder’s location, her rifle raised to low ready as she scanned the area. She could have looked through the scope, but while that would improve her visual acuity by a small measure, it would also restrict her field of view. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Below her, something moved. Damn. He was back on his feet already? Did her trap fail? Or was her shadowy visitor not human?

She raised her pulse rifle to the high-ready position. Now he’d given away his location, this would escalate fast.

At least, that’s what she thought…until her unknown intruder called out.

“Damn it, River! I knew you weren’t going to be happy to see me, but I wasn’t expecting to get fraxxing flash fried.”

She froze. Was that… no? It couldn’t be. He couldn’t have found her already. Only somehow… he had. It took all her concentration to keep her voice steady and even as she spoke his name. “Edge?”

“In the slightly singed flesh.” A shadow moved away from the cover of the rocky wall and came to a stop where she could see him. Slowly, letting her see what he was doing, he set a duffle bag at his feet.

River had already compared his voice to the ones in her files and confirmed his identity, but once she saw him move, there could be no doubt. Edge didn’t so much walk as prowl into view, his every movement as familiar to her as the back of her own hand.

“Hell of a place you picked to hide out. When Hezza told me she’d dropped you into a dust bowl, I thought she was exaggerating,” he called to her.

“Welcome to DB-1. Now, what the fraxx are you doing here and how soon can you leave?” She nodded to herself, pleased at the firm tone she’d managed despite her shock at his unexpected arrival and the hurt at knowing Hezza had given up her location so quickly.

“Can we have this conversation somewhere else? I think something just tried to eat my foot.”

“Sand shark. That must have been one of the small ones. The big ones could bite you in half.” At least, that’s what she assumed, but Edge didn’t need to know that last bit.

“Wonderful. I did not come all this way to get eaten. Not to mention zapped so hard I think you fried a few circuits.”

“We don’t have circuits,” she retorted. “And if you’d stayed away like I told you to, you wouldn’t have anything to complain about.”

Despite the distance between them, she distinctly heard him growl before he answered her. “Did you really think I would do that? That I’d sit back and let you face that son-of-a-starbeast alone?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I hoped you’d respect my wishes, anyway. I came here to keep Haven and everyone I care about safe.”

“And I came here to keep you safe.”

Edge yelped, pulled a foot off the sand, and then stomped the ground hard. “ Fraxxing thing took another bite out of my boot!”

“There’s no accounting for taste. Stay put. I’ll come to you and show you the safe path into camp.”

“And if something tries to eat me in the meantime?” he demanded.

“The sand is too shallow for the big ones to come this close. You’re more likely to get stung by something venomous. Or you could stumble into another of my traps.”

Grinning, River moved the pulse rifle to rest on her back and began the journey back to ground level. She didn’t hurry. It wouldn’t hurt for Edge to stew for a few extra seconds as he wondered if anything out in the dark was sizing him up as a snack. Not that anything would want more than a taste of the male. He’d be tough as leather and probably bitter, too. She laughed in amusement as she descended.

“So glad you’re enjoying yourself at my expense,” Edge grumbled. His banter was out of character, and she wondered why he hadn’t started cursing her for leaving the moment he’d come within earshot. That was more like the male she knew. This was a version of Edge she’d only seen once or twice and never for more than a brief moment.

She rather liked this side of him. Not that she’d admit it to him.

“You may have noticed that there isn’t much in the way of entertainment out here. I’ve got to get my laughs where I can.”

Once she was on the ground, it was a simple enough matter to orient herself to the correct landmarks and then count her steps so she knew when to avoid the traps she’d placed. Both of them could see well enough without an additional light source, but when she got close, Edge drew a small cube out of his pocket and shook it. The resulting amber light was barely bright enough to illuminate the area directly around him.

River walked to the edge of the light but didn’t enter it. “Follow me. Step where I step. You know the drill.” The moment she finished speaking, she turned and moved back the way she’d come.

“I do.” Edge paused. When she didn’t hear him following her, she turned back in his direction. He hadn’t moved his feet, but his head was cocked to one side and he wore a grin that softened his features in a way that made her pulse race.

“What?” she asked.

He waved at her with one hand, still grinning. “Interesting choice in combat gear.”

“Huh?” She glanced down, confused, and then realized what he meant. She’d only put on the top half of her body armor and her boots. Apart from a pair of panties, she was more or less naked from the waist down. She hadn’t had time for her to put the rest on.

It wasn’t that she was embarrassed by her quasi-nudity. Modesty was a luxury none of her kind had ever been permitted. She, Edge, and every other survivor of Reamus had seen each other naked countless times.

This, though. This felt different. Her bare legs made her feel vulnerable. Not to bullets, but to something—or more accurately—to someone .

He shouldn’t have come after her. And she should not be happy to see him again.