Page 25

Chapter 25

Cirdox

I stalk through the Eclipse flagship’s pristine corridors, leaving a trail of unconscious guards in my wake. Blood trickles from a wound in my side where a lucky shot got through, but I barely notice the pain. My markings pulse with increasing intensity as I draw closer to her location, their crimson glow reflecting off the sterile walls like war paint.

Through our bond, I feel Neon’s presence growing stronger—but it’s wrong, distorted by whatever they’re doing to her. Each pulse carries fragments of agony that tear at my soul, feeding the primal rage burning in my blood. The bond-sickness claws at the edges of my consciousness, a creeping darkness that whispers of time running out. But I refuse to acknowledge it. Refuse to consider failure when my mate needs me.

The research wing rises before me like a temple of steel and glass, its entrance guarded by pulsing force fields and automated defense turrets that spring to life at my approach. The security systems are impressive—state-of-the-art targeting arrays and overlapping energy barriers designed to be impenetrable. If I were thinking tactically, I’d fall back, find another approach.

But this isn’t about tactics anymore.

My wings snap wide as I launch myself forward, moving faster than their targeting systems can track. The first turret manages only a single shot before my claws tear through its housing, ripping vital components free in a shower of sparks. I use the momentum to spin into the second, my wing edge shearing through reinforced metal like paper. The third and fourth fall just as quickly, my centuries of combat experience expressed in a dance of lethal precision.

The force fields crackle and hum, their energy matrix designed to repel any conventional attack. But there’s nothing conventional about a Kyvernian warrior fighting to reach his mate. I drive my claws into the field generator’s housing, ignoring the searing pain as electricity arcs across my skin. My tribal markings flare brighter, drawing on reserves of strength I didn’t know I possessed. With a roar that shakes the corridor, I tear the generator free, the force fields collapsing in a cascade of failing power.

Through the reinforced observation windows ahead, I catch glimpses of medical equipment that makes my blood run cold—neural probes and monitoring stations, each one designed to extract data through pain. The air carries the sharp tang of ozone and antiseptic, undercut by something worse—the metallic scent of my mate’s blood.

I move with deadly purpose now, each step carrying the weight of a promise. The Eclipse thinks their technology makes them invincible? They’re about to learn what real power looks like.

Kira stands in the center of the lab like some cybernetic goddess of death, her mechanical enhancements humming with lethal intent. Elite Eclipse troops flank her, their weapons trained on my position with mechanical precision. But it’s what lies behind her that nearly shatters my control.

The medical lab doors explode inward as I tear through the final security barrier, my wings mantling with killing fury at the sight before me. Neon lies strapped to a medical chair, neural probes violating her implants while monitoring equipment records every moment of her agony. Her body arches against the restraints as they push deeper into her mind, but even now, even through this nightmare, I feel her fighting. My fierce little hacker, refusing to break even as they tear her apart.

“Welcome, Captain.” Kira’s synthetic voice carries that terrible artificial warmth as she emerges from the shadows. “I was wondering when you’d join us.” Her enhanced eyes pulse with cruel calculation as she assesses me, no doubt cataloging every injury from my fight through her guards. “Though I must admit, you’ve exceeded our projected arrival time by several minutes.”

Blood trickles down my side from where an Eclipse guard’s blade found purchase earlier, and my left wing aches from deflecting concentrated weapons fire. But pain is nothing compared to the hollow ache where Neon’s presence should be. My wings spread wide, casting crimson shadows across the sterile lab as a growl builds in my chest—a sound carrying centuries of predatory promise.

“The bond between you is fascinating,” Kira continues, circling me with unnaturally fluid movements. Her cybernetic enhancements gleam beneath the harsh lights, each gesture precisely calculated for maximum psychological impact. “The way her neural architecture has adapted, merged with your primitive biology... The research division will be particularly interested in studying the changes.” She flexes her enhanced limbs, combat protocols visibly engaging. “Once we’ve properly extracted them, of course.”

The threat to my mate shatters the last threads of my control. My roar of primal fury shakes the medical equipment as I launch myself at her, wings mantling with lethal intent. She’s blindingly fast—her Eclipse modifications giving her inhuman speed and precision. But she’s fighting for data, for control. I’m fighting for my heart, my soul, my very reason for breathing.

Kira’s enhanced reflexes let her dodge my initial strike, her cybernetic limbs a blur as she counters. The blow that catches my injured side sends fresh waves of agony through my battered body, the earlier wounds threatening to slow me down. Through our strained bond, I feel Neon’s consciousness flickering like a dying star. Time is running out.

My wings sweep forward, using their raw power to drive Kira back even as my claws rake across her reinforced armor. She hisses—a sound more static than organic—as my attack draws first blood. Her counter-strike comes instantly, enhanced muscles propelling her into a spinning kick that would have crushed a normal opponent’s skull.

I twist away at the last second, feeling the wind of her strike pass centimeters from my face. My wings snap out for balance as I pivot, using the momentum to drive my elbow toward her exposed flank. She blocks with impossible speed, her augmented arm absorbing an impact that should have shattered bone.

“Your combat protocols are remarkably adaptable,” she purrs, her synthetic voice betraying no strain despite the growing damage to her systems. “No wonder she chose to bond with you. Though I wonder...” Her next strike slips past my guard, enhanced fingers digging into my wounded side. “How long can even a Kyvernian warrior fight with three cracked ribs and a torn wing membrane?”

The pain is excruciating, but I use it—channel it into the primal rage burning through my veins. My wings slam forward with devastating force, catching her in mid-taunt and sending her crashing into a bank of monitoring equipment. Sparks shower around us as delicate machinery shatters.

She recovers impossibly fast, launching a devastating combination of strikes. Her cybernetic enhancements allow her to attack from multiple angles simultaneously, each blow precisely targeted to existing injuries. I block what I can, my wings providing crucial defense, but several hits slip through. Fresh blood runs down my chest as her razor-sharp attachments find purchase.

But she’s made a critical error—she’s fighting to disable, to capture, to study. I’m fighting to reach my mate. And nothing else matters.

Through our bond, I feel Neon’s presence growing weaker, her consciousness flickering as the neural probes dig deeper. The sight of her pain, combined with the hollow ache in my chest where her vibrant spirit should be, ignites something primal inside me. My tribal markings blaze with battle-fury bright enough to cast shadows.

I let Kira’s next attack land, ignoring the searing agony as her enhanced fist crashes into my already broken ribs. The impact drives the breath from my lungs, but it also puts her exactly where I need her. My wings snap forward with every ounce of strength I possess, the powerful muscles I usually use for flight becoming weapons of pure destruction.

The blow catches her squarely, sending her crashing into the reinforced wall hard enough to crack both her armor and the metal behind it. Before she can recover, I’m on her, my claws finding the subtle gaps in her cybernetic defenses. She screams—a sound that shifts between human and machine—as I tear through delicate circuitry.

“You’re too late,” she gasps, artificial voice crackling with damage as sparks fly from her failing enhancements. “The procedures have already begun. Her neural architecture will never be the same.”

Primal fury erupts through me at her words. My roar drowns out the blaring alarms as I slam her against the wall again, my claws buried deep in her reinforced chest plate. “The Eclipse’s greatest mistake,” I snarl, watching fear finally breach her mechanical composure, “was thinking they could control something as sacred as a mate-bond.”

As I face Kira, my tactical mind races to analyze her vulnerabilities. Her movements are unnaturally fluid, cybernetic enhancements giving her speed and strength no human should possess. But beneath the mechanical precision, I catch glimpses of organic weakness—the slight tremor in her left hand, the way she favors her right side, small tells that betray the human core still buried under all that tech.

The sister who once protected Neon isn’t completely gone—just buried beneath layers of Eclipse programming and cybernetic control. Through our bond, I feel Neon’s conflicted emotions about her sister, the hope that some part of her might still be saved warring with the knowledge of what she’s become.

When Kira lunges, I spot the power conduit running along her spine—the central hub connecting her enhanced systems. A killing blow would be easier, but I know what that would do to Neon. Instead, I time my strike precisely, my claws finding the exact point where synthetic meets organic.

The final moments of my battle with Kira unfold in a blur of desperate fury. Her cybernetic enhancements whir and spark as she launches herself at me, movements unnaturally fluid. But she’s made one fatal miscalculation—she’s fighting with cold machine precision, while I’m driven by something far more primal. The need to protect my mate burns through my veins like molten steel, making my tribal markings pulse with deadly intent.

“You’re too late,” she taunts, her synthetic voice carrying that horrible mechanical calm even as my claws tear through her reinforced armor. “The Eclipse has already begun extracting her neural architecture. Soon there will be nothing left of the sister she remembers.”

The words hit like physical blows, but they only feed the rage burning in my soul. With a roar that shakes the medical bay, I slam her against the nearest wall, my wings mantling with lethal purpose. “You were supposed to protect her,” I snarl, watching fear finally crack through her artificial composure. “She trusted you!”

“Trust is weakness,” she spits, but there’s something beneath the words—a flicker of the sister she used to be, struggling against the Eclipse’s programming. “The Eclipse showed me true power.”

“No,” I growl, my claws finding the primary power coupling that feeds her enhanced systems. “They showed you how to become a slave.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what I’m about to do, genuine emotion breaking through the mechanical mask. “Wait—”

I don’t hesitate. With a savage twist, I tear the power core free from her cybernetic spine. The crimson glow fades from her enhanced eyes as cascading system failures ripple through her body. She collapses in my arms, more human than machine for the first time since this nightmare began.

Looking down at her unconscious form, I see past the Eclipse modifications to the sister who once protected Neon, who taught her everything about neural interfaces and digital warfare. She’s alive—barely—but the monster they turned her into is finally silenced.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, though I know she can’t hear me. “But I won’t let you hurt her again.”

I stagger toward the medical chair, each step sending fresh waves of agony through my battered body. Blood drips steadily from multiple wounds, and breathing feels like swallowing fire. But none of it matters as I reach for the restraints holding my mate.

“Took you long enough, Captain,” she whispers against my chest, though I can feel how much the words cost her. Her usual snark carries an edge of pain that makes my heart clench.

“I’m here now,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple while reaching for my comm. “McCoy, we need immediate extraction and medical support. I have her.”

Her body goes limp in my arms as consciousness finally fades, but our bond pulses with renewed strength. She’s hurt, damaged in ways that will take time to heal. But she’s safe. She’s mine. And I will never let anyone take her from me again.

The alarms blare deafeningly as I cradle Neon’s unconscious form against my chest, her neural implants still sparking erratically. Her skin is too pale, too cold, and the bond between us feels dangerously thin. Each erratic pulse of her implants sends fresh waves of fear through me—what did those Eclipse bastards do to her?

“Hold on, little hacker,” I growl, my wings mantling protectively as another explosion rocks the corridor. The wound in my side burns with every step, blood soaking through my tactical gear where K’vex’s blade found its mark. But the pain is nothing compared to the terror of feeling Neon’s presence growing weaker through our stretched bond.

Eclipse forces converge from multiple directions, their weapons fire filling the air with deadly energy. I twist, using my wings as shields while returning fire one-handed. My tribal markings pulse with battle-fury as I clear a path through the chaos, each movement a careful balance between protection and survival. Nothing matters except getting her to safety.

My boots slip in my own blood as I round another corner, the corridor spinning dangerously. The extraction point seems impossibly far, and more hostiles pour in from adjacent sections. A blast catches my left wing, searing through membrane and muscle. The pain nearly drives me to my knees, but I force myself onward. I won’t fail her. Not again.

“Multiple hostiles converging on your position,” Zara’s voice crackles through my comm. “You need immediate extraction!”

I snarl in acknowledgment, unable to spare breath for words as I fight through another wave of attackers. My wings sweep wide, knocking back the closest soldiers while I empty my weapon into the rest. The recoil sends fresh agony through my injured side, but I barely notice. Every second counts now.

Finally, I reach the small boarding craft I arrived in which promises escape, if I can just get us there. I gather my remaining strength and launch us both forward, my damaged wings straining to carry us the final distance.

We crash into the cockpit as enemy fire fills the air around us. I slam the hatch closed with one hand while cradling Neon’s limp form against my chest with the other. The controls respond sluggishly to my blood-slicked fingers as I punch in the launch sequence.

“Hold on, little hacker,” I growl, executing a desperate spiral maneuver to avoid their targeting locks. Each violent turn sends fresh waves of agony through my wounds, but I can’t fail. Not now. Not with her life in my hands.

The journey back to the Void Reaver is a gauntlet of weapons fire and near misses. Neon remains terrifyingly still in my lap as I pilot one-handed, refusing to release her even as alarms scream warnings of multiple system failures. I feel her presence flickering like a candle in a storm, growing fainter with each passing moment.

When we finally dock with the Void Reaver, Zara and Grig rush forward, but I growl when they try to take her from me. My wings snap wide despite the searing pain, tribal markings pulsing with protective fury. Only when my legs buckle, nearly sending us both crashing to the deck, do I allow them to take her. The last thing I see before darkness claims me is her pale face, her neural implants still flickering with damaged light.

Don’t leave me, little hacker. Please. Just hold on.