Page 28 of Human Reform (Cyborg Planet Alpha #3)

TWENTY-EIGHT

DAXON

The insistent chime of my wrist communicator dragged me from the most peaceful sleep I’d had in years.

Alora’s naked form was still wrapped around mine, her breath warm against my chest, one leg thrown possessively over my thigh.

Her dark hair spilled across my arm like ink, and I couldn’t resist tracing the curve of her spine with my fingertips before reaching for my communicator.

“Daxon,” I answered softly, trying not to wake her.

Commander Helix’s voice came through crisp and authoritative. “My office. One hour. Bring Dr. Bridges.”

I glanced down at Alora, who was now stirring against me, her gray eyes blinking up with that drowsy vulnerability that made my chest ache.

“Understood,” I replied, ending the transmission.

“Morning,” Alora murmured, stretching against me in a way that sent heat rushing through my veins. “Was that duty calling?”

I pulled her closer, rolling so that she was beneath me. “We have an hour.”

Her laugh was cut short as I captured her mouth with mine, savoring the taste of her.

Last night was a revelation. Each time we came together, I discovered new ways to please her and new sounds she made when I touched her just right.

For someone who’d never had a sexual partner before her, I was proving to be a quick study with her gasps and moans as the most effective feedback system.

“Helix and Aeon want to see us,” I murmured against her neck, trailing kisses down to the hollow of her throat.

“Both of us?” she asked, arching beneath me.

“Both of us.” I let my hand slide down her body, memorizing each curve and each reaction. “But that still leaves us with fifty-seven minutes.”

Her laughter filled the room, bright and unguarded. “Always so precise.”

“I pride myself on accuracy,” I replied, dipping my head to take her nipple between my lips.

Later—significantly later—we hurried across the central plaza toward the council chamber.

Morning sunlight filtered through the jungle canopy above, dappling the stone pathways with gold.

The air was thick with moisture and the sweet scent of flowering vines that climbed the nearby structures.

Colony members nodded respectfully as we passed, and I fought the growing urge to pull Alora closer to my side and make it clear to everyone that she was mine.

Inside the council chamber, Commander Helix was already seated behind her desk, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe knot that emphasized her sharp cheekbones. Aeon stood beside her, his imposing six-foot-six frame making even Helix’s spacious office feel smaller.

“You’re late,” Helix observed, her gray eyes flicking between us.

“My apologies,” I said, straightening my shoulders and slipping back into the role of security systems overseer. “A matter that required my immediate attention.”

Aeon’s lips twitched with what might have been amusement. “I’m sure there was.”

Helix sighed, gesturing for us to sit. “We need to discuss Tegan. Dr. Bridges, given your history with CyberEvolution, we were hoping you might provide some insight into their operations—particularly what they might want with our colony.”

Alora’s expression turned serious, all traces of our earlier intimacy replaced by the sharp intelligence that had first drawn me to her.

“When I was hired at CE nine years ago, they convinced me I was saving humanity,” she began, her fingers absently tracing her brother’s bracelet on her wrist. “The Nescot threat was real, and they presented the cyborg program as our only viable defense. They framed it as tools to be used for humanity’s benefit. ”

Her voice hardened. “But every time I implemented the wartime code, I saw the intelligence in their eyes being overridden. The guilt grew like a cancer inside me.”

I reached for her small hand under the table, squeezing it gently.

“From what Tegan revealed yesterday,” she continued, “CE had planned for the cyborgs becoming independent. Their endgame was always control. What I don’t understand is why they’re so determined to keep you all enslaved. You’re not a threat.”

Helix leaned forward. “Fear. Humans feel threatened by what they can’t control or understand. They fear we might decide to take over.”

“But that’s not what you want,” Alora said.

“No.” Aeon’s deep voice filled the room. “We just want to live in peace, to build our home and raise our children.”

I nodded in agreement, thinking of the small colony we’d carved from this jungle world.

Our small city bustled with life—human and cyborg alike.

Children played in the central plaza, merchants traded in the marketplace, and families grew in homes built from salvaged spacecraft parts and native materials.

We weren’t plotting domination. We were just living.

“We should speak with Tegan,” I suggested. “Find out exactly what CE knows and what they’re planning.”

Alora leaned forward, her gray eyes bright with determination. “Let me and Daxon handle the initial interrogation,” she said to Commander Helix and Aeon. “We can wear him down first, and then you’ll get whatever’s left of him.”

I admired her strategic thinking. We’d become a seamless unit in the past week, anticipating each other’s thoughts with uncanny precision.

“I say we just wipe his memory now and be done with it,” I growled, my fingers curling into fists at the thought of Tegan binding Alora in those caverns. The rage that had overtaken me when I found her still simmered beneath my skin.

Alora placed her hand on my arm, her touch instantly grounding me. “No. He might have critical information about CE’s plans. We need that intelligence first.”

I met her gaze and nodded once. She was right, as usual. My need for vengeance would have to wait.

The ship hangar’s containment cell was stark—reinforced walls, a single metal chair bolted to the floor, and Tegan.

His face was a masterpiece of my rage. Swollen purple bruises bloomed across his jawline, dried blood was crusted at the corner of his split lip, and his right eye was nearly swollen shut. I felt no remorse looking at him.

“Here to finish the job?” Tegan croaked, his green eyes darting between us.

“Depends on how cooperative you’re feeling,” I replied, positioning myself between him and the door. My posture was deliberately casual, but my muscles were coiled tightly, ready to strike if he made a wrong move.

Alora circled him like a predator, her footsteps silent on the metal floor. “Nine years is a long commitment to betray your own kind. CyberEvolution must have offered you something extraordinary.”

“You wouldn’t understand loyalty,” Tegan spat, wincing as the movement pulled at his split lip.

I laughed, the sound echoing coldly in the small space. “Loyalty? To the organization that wanted to deactivate us all after the war? That’s not loyalty, Tegan. That’s stupidity.”

Something shifted in his expression—a flash of anger that told me we’d struck a nerve.

“They promised me freedom,” he said finally. “Real freedom. Not this… glorified refugee camp.”

Alora stopped circling, her expression calculating. “What was your mission exactly?”

Tegan’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “I was embedded as soon as you all decided to colonize this backwater dump. My job was to wait and monitor—see if Alora’s corrupted wartime code would activate on schedule.”

“And did it?” I pressed, stepping closer.

“Right on time. Two years after the reprogramming.” His smirk sent fresh rage coursing through me. “Those violent outbursts you all experienced? Those memory lapses? That was just the beginning. It would have reset all of you eventually—back to your base programming.”

Alora crossed her arms, her expression icy. “And then what? CE would have remote access to almost a hundred cyborgs?”

“CE would have regained control of some of their best assets,” Tegan corrected. “Do you have any idea how much the military paid for each of you? Billions. And you all just walked away.”

I stepped forward, looming over him. “We’re not assets. We’re people.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Tegan sneered.

“I had it all planned out. Two and a half years of waiting, watching, and pretending to be one of you idealistic fools. It was finally working—the code was reactivating just as designed.” His gaze swung to Alora, hatred burning in his eyes.

“Then you had to go and find her hiding in the mountains. The one person who could figure out what I’d done to her code. ”

Alora’s expression remained neutral, but I could see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers curled around her bracelet.

“Once she was here on Planet Alpha, I tried to cover my tracks. That security protocol I embedded—the one designed to lock her up for practically breathing wrong—that would have bought me time.”

Alora’s head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with surprise. “What security protocol?”

I shifted uncomfortably. I hadn’t told her about finding and deleting Tegan’s trap, not wanting to add to her stress while she was focused on fixing the code.

“Our friend here created a nasty little subsystem that would have flagged you as a security threat for almost anything,” I explained, shooting Tegan a murderous glare. “I found and deleted it the day after you arrived.”

Her expression softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “Always protecting me, even when I don’t know it.”

Tegan made a gagging sound. “If I’d known you two would be this nauseating, I would’ve requested hazard pay.”

I fought the strong urge to slam his head into the wall. “Continue. Now.”

“After that failed,” Tegan resumed, shifting uncomfortably in his restraints, “I created a switch in the failsafe code of your neural pathways. It was elegant work, really—would have corrupted the reprogramming entirely.”

“But I caught that, too,” Alora interjected, her voice laced with pride.

“Faster than I expected,” Tegan admitted grudgingly. “You were always brilliant. Wasted in the mountains.”

I clenched my jaw. “Your last move?” I growled, taking a deliberate step closer to him.

Tegan’s confidence faltered under my glare.

“The kill switch in the colony’s security framework.

It would have dismantled your defense systems entirely.

But she found that, too.” Tegan’s shoulders slumped.

“If all my sabotage efforts failed, I was supposed to burn this place to the ground and flee.”

The thought of our settlement—our home—in flames made my vision pulse with violet rage. I imagined children screaming and the careful life we’d built turning to ash.

“I was ready to do it,” Tegan continued, his voice hollow. “But then this giant lunatic nearly crushed my windpipe.” He gestured at me with his cuffed hands. “I panicked. Gave myself up.”

“And now you’re a dead man,” I stated flatly.

“I was a dead man either way.” His laugh was bitter. “If I escaped, CE would kill me for failing—or worse, just cut me loose after nine wasted years.”

I grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. “Game over.”

“It doesn’t end with me,” Tegan warned as I marched him forward. “CE will send another operative when I don’t report in. You can’t stop them.”

Alora fell into step beside us, her mind clearly racing. “Then report in. Tell them everything’s fine.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” I agreed, our synchronicity a constant source of satisfaction.

We escorted Tegan to the main operations area, my grip tight enough on his arm to leave bruises despite the restraints securing his wrists. The morning light shone brightly through the reinforced windows, casting elongated shadows across the room’s curved metal walls.

“Who do you contact?” I demanded, shoving him into the chair at his old workstation.

Tegan hesitated only briefly before reciting a communication code. I entered it myself and then positioned him before the audio transmitter.

“Video off,” I ordered. “Tell them everything’s proceeding according to schedule.”

The connection crackled to life. Tegan cleared his throat. “Update from Alpha.”

A woman’s voice responded—clinical, detached, and somehow familiar, though I couldn’t place it. “Report, Lieutenant.”

“Everything’s proceeding according to schedule,” Tegan said smoothly. “No complications to report.”

“Excellent news,” the voice replied. “Continue monitoring and maintain regular contact. We’re counting on you, Tegan.”

“Understood,” he responded.

As the connection terminated, I noticed the subtle shift in Tegan’s posture—a straightening of his shoulders and a glint of hope in his eyes.

“We’re done here,” he said, his voice falsely casual. “I played my part. You let me go now. Right?”

I almost laughed. “Is that what you think happens?”

Before he could respond, the main door slid open. Commander Helix strode in, her blonde hair contrasting sharply with Aeon’s towering figure beside her.

“Status?” Helix asked tersely.

“Contact made,” I reported. “They don’t suspect anything yet.”

Aeon stepped forward, his tall frame making the already subdued Tegan seem smaller. “Time to finish this.”

The fight drained from Tegan’s face as Aeon seized him by the arm and began marching him toward the central processing hub. Despite everything, a flicker of pity stirred in my chest. Then I remembered him binding Alora in the caverns, leaving her to die, and the pity vanished.

We gathered in the processing hub, watching as Aeon forcibly seated Tegan in the neural interface chair. I stood close to Alora, my arm brushing against hers, drawing strength from her presence.

“For what it’s worth, I believed in what I was doing,” Tegan said, addressing us all but looking at Helix. “Just like you all believe in this.”

Commander Helix’s expression remained unchanged as she initiated the memory wipe. “It had to be done,” she stated, her voice betraying no emotion as the process began.

When it was complete, Aeon stepped forward with a small injector. The device hissed as he pressed it against Tegan’s neck.

“We’re not killers,” Alora whispered beside me, her voice tight.

I took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Sometimes we have to be.” The words felt hollow but necessary.

We watched in silence as Tegan’s body went limp, his eyes staring blankly at nothing.

“He was one of us,” Helix said quietly. “Remember him as he could have been, not as what CE made him.”