Page 17 of Koha’vek (Cyborg Guardians Spinoff)

Koha’vek

The rain had lasted for only a couple of hours, and the sky was clear again.

Late sunlight poured over the ridgeline, bathing the cabin porch in warmth. I sat outside, sharpening a blade more out of habit than need, but the rhythm helped settle the thoughts that wouldn’t leave me alone.

The com link that Raven gave me sat on the table, blinking softly and steadily—an open channel connected to the colony.

Connected to him . I still remember feeling betrayed when he disappeared without a word. Then, that despicable Gar’hako took over command.

I stared at it longer than I’d like to admit. I might have left with him, had I known.

I hadn’t spoken to him in years, not since we both served on the Earth garrison in Northern Montana before things fell apart. Right after the abductions, human trafficking started happening right under our noses .

Back then, Veklan was a leader—proud, disciplined, always toeing the line. I was the one always looking to the past, to ancient Mesaarkan codes of honor and restraint. We clashed more than once over enforcement procedures. He believed in order, and I believed in integrity .

Then one day he disappeared.

Vanished from the base without a word.

I thought he’d died—or been caught. I understood, even if I hadn’t forgiven him for leaving without telling me.

But now I knew the truth.

He hadn’t abandoned our people.

He’d chosen a different kind of loyalty.

Just like I had.

I picked up the com link and turned it over in my palm. Raven thought we should talk, coordinate, and maybe even support each other.

I wasn’t sure if Veklan would even take the call.

But I was more tired of silence than I was afraid of rejection.

I tapped the transmission line.

“Koha’vek here.”

The connection remained silent, just long enough to make me second-guess myself.

Then: “Veklan.” His voice was still deep, calm, and almost weary.

“I wasn’t sure you’d answer,” I admitted.

“I wasn’t sure you’d call.”

That felt fair.

“Blackwood says the Council is deliberating,” he added after a moment.

“He told me the same.”

“You think they’ll grant it?” he asked.

I leaned back against the cabin post and looked out at the woods. “I think it’s easier for them to say no. But I think Raven’s trying to give them a reason to say yes.”

Veklan gave a quiet grunt. “He’s different. Not just for a cyborg. For a soldier.”

“Because he sees the bigger picture. The cyborgs’ mission changed after the signing of the peace treaty. They came back to rebuild and protect civil society. I’ve learned that some of their kind are a bigger threat to that than we are.”

“Yes. It was humans who kidnapped his mate. Your help in getting her back didn’t hurt our cause.”

“Because men from that same group tried to take my human mate.” I found myself nodding. “She hasn’t asked to go back to town. Not once. I think she knows what they’d see when they looked at me. ”

“Mine knew, too,” he said. “But she stayed.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“They change us,” I murmured.

“Or remind us who we were,” Veklan said.

We sat in silence for a few breaths—just two males who had walked out of the same war with different wounds, but the same ache for something better.

“If they deny the request…” he began.

“Then we move and survive,” I said quietly. “But not alone this time.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not alone.”

I could hear wind in the background of his transmission, children laughing, the creak of leather straps, and timber—life.

“We’ll be ready,” he said. “For whatever comes next.”

And I believed him.

“Stay sharp, Veklan.”

“You too, old ghost.”

The channel went quiet.

And I sat there a moment longer, holding the com link like it was more than a tool, like a thread between two lives that almost never connected again.

I looked up as Ava stepped onto the porch, her eyes warm, quiet, knowing.

She didn’t ask what we talked about.

She didn’t have to.

Ava

I stepped out onto the porch just as he ended the call.

He was still holding the com link in one hand, staring at it like it had said something personal—something that didn’t quite fit in the world outside his head.

He didn’t look up when I came out, but he didn’t have to. His shoulders relaxed, just a little, like he could feel me there.

“I didn’t mean to listen,” I said quietly.

He finally turned toward me. His expression wasn’t guarded—it was open in a way he didn’t often let himself be. “But you did.”

I nodded. “Only a little.”

He didn’t seem bothered.

I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around myself as I leaned against the post beside him. The late sun was still warm on our faces, but I could sense the weight of the conversation hanging in the air between us.

“He called you an old ghost,” I said. “Was he a friend?”

He didn’t answer right away. “We were soldiers,” he said eventually.

“But never friends. He called me a ghost because I could move through a battlefield like a ghost. We followed different codes. I believed in restraint. He believed in command. But he left before I did. I used to think he betrayed everything.”

“And now?”

Koha’vek glanced at me, his golden eyes softer than usual. “Now I think he saw the truth before I was ready to.”

I nodded slowly, letting that settle.

I didn’t know what it felt like to walk away from everything you were trained to believe. But I knew what it felt like to question the world that built you, and wonder if something better could ever take its place.

“Did it help?” I asked.

“The call?”

“Talking to someone else who made the same choice.”

He exhaled. “Yes. It helped.”

He didn’t need to say more.

I leaned my head gently against his shoulder. His skin was warm, the scent of pine resin still lingering faintly on him from earlier that day.

“I’m glad you have someone out there who understands,” I murmured. “ Even if he used to be a stranger.”

Koha’vek turned his head slightly, brushing his temple against mine in a gesture I’d come to understand as affection. “So are you,” he said. “Someone who understands.”

And even though the council hadn’t made its decision yet—even though everything was still uncertain—I felt it again, deep in my chest.

That we he spoke of.

That future we hadn’t asked for, but were slowly building anyway.

Together.