Page 2 of Human Reclaimed (Cyborg Planet Alpha #2)

TWO

RUNE

Sixty seconds after Tegan administered the sedative into Talia’s neck, our sleek ship descended into the parking lot like a predator settling onto its prey.

The dark hull absorbed what little light the facility’s dim lamps threw off, making us almost invisible against the night sky.

Snow had begun to fall, delicate flakes catching in Talia’s blonde hair as I stood with her slumped against me.

Her unconscious weight pressed against my chest, surprisingly solid for someone so small. This close, I caught the unmistakable scent of lavender and something else—like rain on warm stone—that made something primitive stir within me.

“Transport secured.” Sage’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “Perimeter clear. Let’s move before someone notices us.”

I gathered Talia into my arms, one arm supporting her back, the other beneath her knees.

Her head lolled against my shoulder, exposing the elegant line of her neck.

The tactical practicality of our mission momentarily receded as I registered how perfectly she fit against me, like a puzzle piece I hadn’t known was missing in my life.

“Need assistance with the package?” Tegan moved beside me, one eyebrow raised.

“Negative.” The word came out sharper than intended. I corrected my tone. “I’ve got her.”

I carried her up the ramp, feeling the warmth of her through my tactical gear.

Inside our ship’s sleeping quarters, I placed her gently onto the narrow bunk, taking care to position her so she wouldn’t roll during takeoff.

Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow like liquid gold, and I found myself lingering longer than mission parameters required.

“She’s…” I whispered and then stopped, uncertain how to articulate the strange pull I felt toward her.

“Even more dangerous in person than her file suggested,” I muttered to myself, straightening before adjusting my tactical vest with unnecessary precision.

I tucked a thermal blanket around her, telling myself it was to prevent shock from the sedative. My fingers brushed her shoulder, and I jerked back as if burned. What the hell was wrong with me? She was a mission objective, not a?—

I cut off the thought before it fully formed and returned to the cockpit where Sage was already running through preflight protocols, her nimble fingers dancing across the control panels.

“Stealth systems engaged. Weather front providing additional cover,” she reported and then paused, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Our guest settled in comfortably?”

“The target is secure,” I replied stiffly.

Tegan snorted from the copilot’s seat. “Is that what we’re calling the way you were cradling her like she might break?”

Heat crawled up my neck. “I was ensuring efficient transport.”

“Efficient transport,” Sage repeated, catching Tegan’s eye. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“Stick to the mission parameters,” I growled, dropping into the third seat and strapping in.

Sage’s laughter filled the cockpit. “Oh, come on, Rune. Even your biometric readings coming in from your wrist communicator spiked when you picked her up. I haven’t seen your heart rate that elevated since?—”

“Since nothing,” I cut her off. “Focus on getting us out of Earth’s atmosphere without detection.”

Tegan leaned closer. “You know, there’s nothing in the mission parameters prohibiting appreciation of?—”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you want to keep all your limbs functional today,” I warned, though there was no real heat behind it. The banter felt normal, almost human—and I needed that grounding right now.

The ship hummed to life around us, the deck plates vibrating subtly beneath my boots as Sage guided us upward. I activated the comm system, eager to redirect the conversation.

“Contacting Commander Helix. Alpha Team Sigma reporting in.”

The screen flickered before displaying Commander Helix’s striking features. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun, but I noted a softness around her eyes that hadn’t been there before her daughter’s birth six months ago.

“Report, Rune.”

“Package secured,” I stated, my professional mask firmly back in place. “Captain Reed is in our custody. Extraction executed on Earth without complications. We’re returning to Planet Alpha now.”

Helix’s gray eyes narrowed slightly. “Any unexpected variables?”

I hesitated, thinking of Talia’s fierce resistance despite being outnumbered, and the intelligence in her eyes even as the sedative took effect. “The target… exceeded expectations in terms of combat resilience.”

A knowing smile curved Helix’s lips. “I see. And your assessment of her potential usefulness to our situation?”

“If her strategic capabilities match her physical resistance, she’ll be invaluable against the pirate threat.” The words came out clipped and analytical—safer territory than acknowledging how her scent had momentarily scrambled my thought processes.

“Good. We’ll prepare for your arrival.”

As the screen went dark, Sage swiveled her chair toward me, her blonde ponytail swinging. “So, just to clarify—you’re absolutely not attracted to her at all. Right? Because that was the most robotic mission report I’ve heard from you in months.”

“She’s a mission asset,” I insisted, though the words tasted false.

“A mission asset that smells like lavender,” Tegan added innocently.

My head snapped up. “How did you?—”

“You might’ve mumbled it when you were tucking her in,” Sage supplied, not bothering to hide her grin.

I leaned back in my seat, staring at the panorama of stars opening up before us while trying to ignore Sage and Tegan’s teasing.

Earth shrank away, a diminishing blue marble nestled in infinite blackness.

For two days, I’d held a singular focus: successfully extracting Captain Reed from her life.

Now that she lay sedated in our hold, my thoughts kept circling back to her—the fierce defiance in her eyes before the sedative took effect and the surprising warmth of her body against mine.

To silence these distracting thoughts, I pulled up the holographic display in the cockpit. “Let’s review the latest pirate raid data,” I said, swiping through the report Commander Helix had sent before our mission.

Tegan shifted in his seat, leaning forward. “Three settlements targeted in the neighboring systems within the last month. They’re getting bolder.”

The casualty charts materialized in crisp blue light. I enlarged the section detailing their primary targets.

“Three pregnant women taken in the Beta settlement raid,” Sage noted, her voice tight. “Two hybrid infants from the outpost on Theros. They’re specifically hunting for our future.”

“Exactly why we need Captain Reed.” I traced my finger along the attack pattern map. “They’re using a warfare strategy that’s remarkably similar to what Earth employed against the Nescots during the later years of the war.”

“When Reed was heading tactical operations for the Eastern Joint Command,” Tegan finished. “Her fingerprints are all over these methods—not because she’s working with them but because they’re copying her playbooks.”

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of admiration and unease. “She understands these strategies better than anyone. If we want to protect our pregnant women and our children…” I trailed off, thinking of Helix cradling little Helena, one of the first cyborg-born children on Planet Alpha.

“Was there really no other way?” The question escaped before I could contain it. “Taking her like this—it mirrors what they did to us during the war. Treating others like resources to be harvested.”

Sage’s blue eyes softened. “We tried diplomatic channels. Three formal requests for strategic consultation, all denied.”

“We’re not CyberEvolution,” Tegan said firmly. “This isn’t about experimenting or control. We’re fighting for survival.”

I closed the display, the blue light vanishing. “She deserves to be treated with dignity. Not as a weapon we’ve acquired but as a person whose expertise we desperately need.” My voice dropped lower. “A remarkable person.”

Sage’s knowing smile made heat flood my face.

“Remarkable, hmm?” she teased. “I thought you said she was just a strategic asset.”

“She is,” I answered too quickly. “But also something more.”

“Care to elaborate on ‘something more’?” Tegan’s eyebrows arched.

I turned toward the viewport, watching as we accelerated into the jump sequence. Stars stretched into luminous streaks around us.

“When I was carrying her to the ship,” I said slowly, choosing each word with care, “something felt… different. Not about taking her against her will. That felt wrong. But about her. About her being with us.”

The admission hung in the air between us.

“So, our fearless training commander has a heart after all.” Sage grinned, but her tone was gentle.

“We all do,” I replied quietly. “That’s what separates us now from what they tried to make us back then.”

Suddenly, the comm system activated with a melodic chime. The display flickered to life, revealing Aeon’s imposing frame beside Olivia’s smaller one. They sat shoulder to shoulder in the medical bay, its pristine white surfaces gleaming behind them.

“Alpha Team Sigma, do we have confirmation on successful extraction?” Aeon’s deep voice filled our cockpit.

I leaned forward in my seat, acutely aware of Talia’s unconscious presence just a few compartments away.

“Confirmed. Target secured without complications. We have already informed Commander Helix. Also, Captain Reed is…” My voice faltered unexpectedly.

I cleared my throat. “She’s resting comfortably. ”

Olivia’s green eyes narrowed slightly, catching something in my tone. “Expected arrival time?”

“Six hours if we push hard through the atmosphere,” I replied, running calculations in my head. “We’ll need the medical bay prepped for her awakening.”

My fingers tightened on the armrest. The thought of Talia waking disoriented and afraid stirred something primitive in my chest—a fierce need to shield her from unnecessary distress.

Not just because she was our strategic asset against the pirates, but because…

because I couldn’t bear the thought of fear in those fierce blue eyes.

“I want her recovery room prepared with special considerations,” I continued, ignoring Sage’s knowing sidelong glance. “Nothing that suggests confinement.”

Aeon tilted his head. “Special considerations?”

“She shouldn’t feel like a prisoner,” I insisted. “She needs to be treated as an equal, a colleague with a shared purpose.”

Olivia’s expression softened with understanding. “I remember how terrifying it was waking up on a strange planet against my will.” She tucked her brown hair behind her ear. “The disorientation alone is traumatic.”

“Exactly.” My relief at her understanding was immediate. “She should have a space that offers dignity. Privacy. Comfort.”

“And a view of the beautiful colony,” Olivia added. “Seeing our settlement helped me realize this wasn’t some military base. It humanized everything.”

I nodded. “The east recovery suite has those floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the central plaza.”

“We’ll have it ready,” Aeon promised. “And, Rune?—”

“Yes?”

“This woman means a lot to our survival efforts.” His piercing gaze seemed to see right through me. “But I suspect she might come to mean more to some than others.”

Heat flooded my body. “She’s invaluable strategically,” I managed, avoiding Sage’s amused glance.

“Of course,” Olivia replied with the ghost of a smile. “Just strategically.”

After ending the transmission, I stared out at the stars streaking past, my thoughts orbiting around the sleeping woman in our hold. Whatever was happening inside me was unexpected, unprecedented, and completely inappropriate given our mission.

Yet I couldn’t stop picturing her face when those blue eyes would open in our colony. Would she see past the betrayal of her abduction to understand what we were fighting for? Could she forgive what we’d done to bring her here?

More importantly—why did her forgiveness suddenly matter so much to me?