

# Releasing Rage

# Cynthia Sax

Half Man. Half Machine. All Hers.

Rage, the Humanoid Alliance's most primitive cyborg, has two goals—kill all of the humans on his battle station and escape to the Homeland. The warrior has seen the darkness in others and in himself. He believes that's all he's been programmed to experience.

Until he meets Joan.

Joan, the battle station's first female engineer, has one goal—survive long enough to help the big sexy cyborg plotting to kill her. Rage might not trust her but he wants her. She sees the passion in his eyes, the caring in his battle-worn hands, the gruff emotion in his voice.

When Joan survives the unthinkable, Rage's priorities are tested. Is there enough room in this cyborg's heart for both love and revenge?

Releasing Rage

Published by Cynthia Sax at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 Cynthia Sax

Ebook design by Mark's Ebook Formatting

Email Mark@MarksEbookFormatting.com for more info

Discover more books by Cynthia Sax at her website

www.CynthiaSax.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First anthology edition: June 2015

First ebook edition: August 2015

For more information contact Cynthia Sax at

www.CynthiaSax.com

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

About The Author

### Chapter One

She'd been paired. Finally.

Joan Tull hurried through the Nebula battle station hallways, straightening her gray flight suit as she ran. She was the last of her solar cycle's transfers to have been matched with a cyborg.

That was because she was female and Commander Lewis was a female-hating rectal wipe. Humanoid Alliance regulations stated he had to accept her onto his station. There was nothing that said he had to pair her.

But now he had and she skipped with excitement. She'd fulfill her destiny, helping the cyborgs who once saved her life. Not the same cyborg, though wouldn't it be a wonderful coincidence if that happened? No, she'd more likely be responsible for the maintenance of one of his brethren. It would be—

"Joan." Fingers curled around her left wrist and she was pulled into the shadows. Her friend Denny Olsen gazed down at her, concern on his freckled face.

Joan wasn't alarmed. Her former academy mate worried about everything.

"I'm being assigned to a cyborg." She grinned at him.

"Tell the Commander that you withdraw your application before he formally offers you the position," he urged. "It isn't safe."

"Life isn't safe." Having spent most of her life alone and unprotected, she knew that better than anyone else. "This is what I've been training for, Denny, since I was eleven solar cycles." Since the agri lot her family unit worked was attacked and a cyborg stepped between her and certain death.

"You won't see another solar cycle if you don't withdraw." Denny squeezed her wrist and pain shot up her arm.

"Let me go." She wrenched her body away from him. Although he was male, she was stronger and smarter and had graduated near the top of her class.

"I can't protect you, Joan."

"I don't need protecting." She could protect herself. "I can do this."

"You can't do this alone." Denny raked his fingers through his short red hair. "Commander Lewis won't allow us to give you any support. He believes females don't belong on a battle station, especially not in cybernetic engineering."

She lifted her chin. "I'll prove Commander Lewis wrong."

"He won't allow that." Denny's lips flattened. "He'll ensure you fail. You're intelligent...for a female. You should realize that."

Joan knew Commander Lewis wouldn't make it easy but nothing ever had been for her. She was willing to work hard for everything she received.

"Careful, Denny. You're starting to sound like those female-haters you work with." And that shocked her. He was her friend. She thought he was different.

"There's a reason they act like that."

"There's no logical reason." She wouldn't back down, knowing in her heart she was meant to assist cyborgs. "I'm taking this position."

He glared at her. She held his gaze.

Denny shook his head. "You won't listen to me."

"I won't." This was her destiny.

"Then go. Take it." He dismissed her. "Get yourself killed." Pivoting on his booted heels, he stalked in the opposite direction down the hallway. "Don't say that I didn't warn you."

She watched his retreating back. Denny was genuinely concerned for her, but he had also spent the last solar cycle reporting to Commander Lewis, surrounded by that rectal wipe's female-hating protégés. He'd clearly been indoctrinated into that fool's school of thought.

Joan knew she was qualified. She could do this. Walking to the transfer chamber, the spring in her step was gone.

She placed her palm on the sensor. The door slid open.

Commander Lewis stood with his back facing her, his hands clenched behind him. Monitoring devices edged the walls. A concealing cloth covered a long horizontal support. There was no one else occupying the space.

Which was strange. She tilted her head, perplexed. At transfers, the former engineer was always present, passing his duties to his successor, relaying the insights he'd gathered over the solar cycles.

Unless there was no former engineer. Her hands quivered. Was she to be paired with a brand new cyborg? More experienced engineers had been waiting their entire lifespans for such an opportunity.

That must have been the reason Denny urged her to decline. He knew the others would be jealous, take out their disappointment on her.

"You've kept me waiting, Cadet Tull." Commander Lewis didn't turn around, didn't look at her.

"Commander Lewis, sir." Joan saluted him. "I was assigned to the waste processing chambers." Shit patrol, as transfers called it, was the worst placement an engineer could be given, and, until her arrival, it had been unheard of for a highly trained cybernetic engineer to monitor the processing vats. "Those chambers are at the far end of the station."

"This is my station. I'm aware of where the waste processing chambers are, Cadet." The Commander's voice cracked like a laser whip over her. "You've been reassigned to C899321."

Joan sucked in her breath. She'd heard there was a C model cyborg on board. That was why she'd requested this station. But she never dreamed she'd be his engineer. "Thank you, sir."

Commander Lewis turned, studied her for a moment, his pale countenance creased with wrinkles. "Are you being insubordinate, Cadet?"

"No, sir." She straightened. "I haven't seen a C model in ten solar cycles." Since she was saved by one during the attack on the agri lot.

"C899321 is one of the last of its kind, its primitive design ideal for fighting the Mantidae." Commander Lewis spoke of the cyborg as though it was a machine, ignoring its human side, and that irritated Joan. She'd seen how human they could be. "C899321 is more valuable than you are, Cadet."

"I understand, sir." Joan understood that she was now responsible for the maintenance and well being of that valuable cyborg.

"You have no family unit. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir." Her mother and father, plus two siblings, had been killed in the agri lot attack. She'd been a ward of the Humanoid Alliance since that fateful day.

"Good." The Commander nods. "Indicate acceptance here." He held out a personal viewscreen. "It states that if C899321 kills, hurts or violates you, my battle station will not be held responsible."

That was the standard release and, in Joan's opinion, unnecessary. Cyborgs followed orders, and rarely became aggressive toward their humanoid masters.

But this was war and no one's safety was guaranteed. She pressed her palm against the screen. "Will I have an opportunity to speak with my predecessor, sir?"

"You have that opportunity now." He waved one of his hands over the horizontal support.

There was no movement under the concealing cloth, no tug and pull of breath. Dread twisted Joan's stomach as she drew the white fabric back.

The scent of blood hit her before her eyes registered what she was seeing. Laid out on the surface were two severed feet, one arm minus its hand, an eyeball with a brown iris staring up at her, pieces of gray matter she suspected was brain.

She'd seen animals killed by predators on the agri lot. She'd lived through an attack, saw her parents slaughtered before her. She'd never seen this level of carnage.

"Who was responsible for this?" She was too shaken to add the expected _sir_.

"C899321." A slow smile spread across the Commander's face. That scared her more than the engineer's remains. "Your predecessor managed to ping for help but, by the time the guards arrived, it was too late."

It would be. Cyborgs were inhumanly fast.

"You claim you're capable of working with cyborgs, a task suited for males, Cadet." The Commander sounded smug. "You now have the opportunity to prove yourself right."

Joan gazed up at him and saw the truth in his eyes. He believed she'd fail, that she wouldn't survive her pairing with C899321.

He was sending her into the cyborg's chambers to die. This was what Denny was warning her about. The position was a suicide mission, not a career opportunity.

The alternative—turning down the pairing—would also end in her death. Commander Lewis would send her to the front lines. She'd be given no weapon, no armor, because they expected her to be slaughtered and sucked dry by the Mantidae before her feet touched the planet. The insect-like aliens were that fast.

She'd take her chances with C899321. "I will be successful, sir."

Commander Lewis gave her a curt nod. "C899321 is positioned in its chambers . You have been granted access. Clean and repair the unit, preparing it for deployment."

An engineer had been killed and they weren't skipping a deployment.

Why? Joan could think of only one reason. The war must not be progressing as well as the Humanoid Alliance propaganda indicated. "Yes, sir."

"You are dismissed, Cadet."

"Thank you, sir." Joan saluted, then marched into the hallway, turning toward the chambers, her mind spinning. Her predecessor's death made no sense. Cyborgs didn't kill their engineers. They followed orders.

Though C345925 hadn't followed orders when he saved her. His mission had been to battle the Mantidae, not protect scared eleven-solar cycle-old girls.

The massive male had delivered her to safety, holding her with one hand, clasping a gun in the other. He had shot the enemy as he moved, turning his body to take the brunt of the return fire, absorbing projectiles that would have shredded her small form.

He'd risked everything for her. She would risk everything for this cyborg. She'd fix C899321's malfunction so he wouldn't kill another human. The Humanoid Alliance would have no additional reason to take action against him.

She pressed her hands against the exterior wall panel of his chambers. The thick metal door slid open. She stepped into the firewall square. The door behind her closed and she authorized the interior door to open.

A buzz swept over her. No, not simply over her. Into her. She gasped, her inhalation of air drawing more of this unknown presence inside her.

It was too much, almost suffocating. Joan swayed, lightheaded. "Do not faint. Do not faint," she repeated to herself, closing her eyes.

The rolling under her feet gradually stopped. She opened her eyes and wished she hadn't. Crimson spray covered everywhere she looked. Gore was splattered into the farthest corners, hanging from the ceiling. Cleaner bots scrubbed the walls and floor.

This was why she felt dizzy, she reasoned. She smelled and sensed this butchery.

C899321, the being she had been told was responsible, stood in his uploading dock, a cable inserted into his nape, his towering form naked, covered with blood, his long black hair dripping with it.

He turned his head, locked his gaze with hers and she sucked in her breath. There were worlds of agony, of rage, in those bright blue eyes. This was no rational, logic-driven cyborg. This was a man, an animal, crazed by bloodlust and pain.

"They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?" he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn't realize slept. "I'd kill you before I allowed you to touch me."

This insult didn't hurt her the way he'd intended. Joan knew she wasn't the slim tiny female males desired. She was solidly built, good breeding stock, as her mother had once said.

She discarded his words and focused on the torment in his tones. He hurt. Horrifically. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, tremendous. Judging by the flex of his powerful biceps and thigh muscles, by the anger radiating from him, he wouldn't appreciate that response.

He also wouldn't listen to any command she issued. A reprimand, verbal or physical, would add to his hostility. Some being had already tried to restrain him and failed. The reportedly unbreakable wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the frame of the uploading dock had been shattered, rendered useless.

Joan discarded four solar cycles' worth of theory on how to handle malfunctioning cyborgs, realizing now that the academy experts knew nothing.

Her late father, however, had taught her how to deal with wild beasts.

"I would never touch you without your permission." She lowered her gaze, showing submission, recognizing C899321 as the dominant male he was. He'd seek to harm any aggressor, to protect himself and his territory. If she wasn't female, she suspected she'd already be dead.

"I also would never hurt you." Joan stuffed a couple of cleaning cloths into her pockets and dropped to her knees, into a puddle of red. The moisture soaked through her flight suit. "I'm here to serve you, to clean you."

She slowly crawled forward through the liquefied remains of the previous engineer. Having lived on an agri lot and spending the last solar cycle in the waste processing chambers, guck no longer fazed her.

"You don't want to be dirty." Joan kept her head bowed, her voice calm and soft. "That would interfere with your mechanics."

She filled the silence with a flow of reassuring words, telling him she meant him no harm, that she was there to help him. Joan kept her gaze lowered, concentrating on his feet. He stood with them braced apart, preparing for an attack, ready to defend himself. His feet appeared human except much, much larger, his metal frame concealed with skin. When not covered with blood, that skin would be gray.

The current J models could pass for human, designed not to frighten the general population. The C models were clearly cyborg, from their giant stature to their unnatural skin tone. Some engineers found them to be scary and primitive. Joan didn't. She associated C models with safety, with caring, with C345925's unexpected act of kindness.

Joan knelt in front of C899321. Her heart pounded so loudly, she suspected with his superior senses, he could hear her.

Moments passed. She remained motionless, allowing him to look at her, to smell her, to become accustomed to the sound of her voice.

He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, signaling his readiness and she spoke. "I have a cleaning cloth in my pocket." She held up her hands, showing him her empty palms. "Can I remove it?"

She waited and waited and waited. He said nothing.

"I told you I wouldn't take action without your consent." She wasn't foolish. Touching a wild thing without permission resulted in death.

"Yes." His voice was impossibly deep.

"Thank you." Joan slipped her fingers into her pocket, slowly as to not spook him, and extracted a blue cleaning cloth. "I value your trust." She opened the enhanced fabric, stretching it tight, allowing him to examine it. "May I clean your feet?"

There was another long pause.

"Yes."

"Thank you." No male should have a voice like that, like an endless night filled with decadence and sin. She resisted the urge to wiggle her ass, her pussy moistening, her nipples tightening, and focused on her task, cleaning his ankles, heels, every toe, talking as she did so. The cyborg lifted first one foot and then the other, allowing her to swipe the cloth over his soles.

The fabric sucked up the blood, rearranging the molecules into air. His skin was soft, warm, surprisingly scarred. Joan frowned. "Your nanocybotics must have been suppressed when you were damaged. There should be no marks."

She traced a long slash on his right foot. It was an old wound. "The enemy found a way to do this." That alarmed her. This flaw in his defenses put her cyborg at risk. "Why wasn't this development covered in any of the information bulletins I've viewed?" Engineers should be working on a countermeasure.

"Are you mentally deficient?" His tone was harsh. "You must be if you volunteered to breed with a C model cyborg."

Joan gritted her teeth at his assumption about her role. "I'm your engineer, not a breeding female."

"You lie." He snorted softly. "Your uniform is gray, not blood-red, and if you were truly my engineer, as you claim, you'd know my damage was inflicted by my previous handlers."

"I was positioned in the waste processing chambers. That's why I wear a gray uniform." Signaling to everyone her lowly status. "And why would a handler hurt you? Our job is to ensure you operate at optimal efficiency."

"Why would they hurt me? Because they're cruel humans and I'm a disposable cyborg. Because I operated outside specifications. Because they wished to duplicate my kill rates. Do you need more reasons?"

They'd experimented on him. She gazed at his toes, absorbing this knowledge. Blood had dripped down his legs, coating them with crimson once more. "May I clean your legs?"

He sighed, his muscles flexing and releasing. "You clearly need to be told everything. I must be cleaned from the top down."

She knew that. "You'd agree to me cleaning your face?"

"Do I have a choice?" His words were bitter.

"Yes." Joan looked upward, meeting his gaze. "You know how best to maximize your kill rates. Within these chambers, I serve you."

His eyes flashed with blue currents of energy. "Stop with your lies. I won't believe them."

"You're bigger, stronger, think you're more intelligent." She lifted her chin. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I'll test you, little engineer, and if you fail, you'll die."

"I expect nothing less." She'd been tested her entire lifespan. She and death were old friends.

His eyes narrowed. "Stand."

Joan scrambled to her feet, her legs aching. Up close, he appeared even taller, broader. For the first time in her life, she felt small.

She liked the feeling. A bit too much.

"Undress," was his next command. "If you serve me, you should be as naked as I am."

Joan wished she could argue with that logic but she couldn't. A subordinate would never wear more clothing than her superior.

She lowered her gaze and slowly undressed, aware of the deficiencies in her form. Her skin was pale. She hadn't basked in a sun's rays for solar cycles. Her breasts were too generous, her stomach rounded, her hips wide and her thighs thick.

"Your boots also."

She unfastened them, the floor cool against her feet, and she stood in front of the cyborg, completely naked.

"Look at me, female."

Joan met C899321's gaze, the heat in his eyes tightening her nipples. He wanted her, his cock hardening, his breathing growing ragged.

"Raise your arms and widen your stance."

She did as he ordered. The position lifted her breasts, as though she offered them to him. It also gave him easy access to her pussy.

Joan was acutely conscious of his size, his strength, his arousal. He could take her, easily overcoming any feeble resistance she made.

The cyborg didn't move. Instead, he examined her slowly, his gaze resting for endless moments on her breasts and mons.

"Turn around."

She obeyed him, allowing him to gaze at her ass. He didn't attempt to touch her and, for that, she was grateful. All he did was look, his perusal as sensual as a caress.

"You aren't designed like the previous breeding females."

Her face heated. "I'm not a breeding female. I'm your engineer."

"So you continue to tell me." He grunted. "Then clean me from the top of my head downward, little engineer." She approached him. "You're too small to reach," he advised her unnecessarily. "Use the elevation platform."

That placed her breasts at his eye level. Joan trembled as she massaged his scarred scalp with the cleaning cloth, purifying each strand of hair. It was an intimate act. His long straight locks were decadently soft. His hot breath wafted over her skin.

"Did they give my little engineer breeding drugs?" His tone was mocking. "I smell her arousal." He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.

"C models were designed to reproduce." Joan swiped the cloth over his broad forehead. That skin was also crisscrossed with old scars. How many times had he been experimented on? "Everything about you, from your deepened voice to your enhanced pheromones, was modified to maximize your appeal to females."

"It appeals to cyborg females." His lips twisted. "They have no effect on, other than to frighten, human females."

"And you're an expert on human females," she mumbled, dabbing the cloth carefully over the more delicate skin around his brilliant blue eyes. His model number was inked below his right eye. Joan traced the mark with her fingertips.

"I was forced to breed with twenty-two human females, one hundred and fifteen cyborg females, before the program was deemed a failure." He watched her.

"They forced you to breed with strangers?" Joan stared at him, horrified.

"If you truly served me, you'd show me respect and call me sir."

He was an obstinate cyborg. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "They forced you to breed with strangers, sir?"

"The breeding didn't result in offspring." There was no emotion in his reply. "A cyborg's nanocybotics views a fertilized egg as a damaged egg and repairs it."

"I'm sorry." She didn't know what to say, what to do to make that right.

He lifted one eyebrow.

"Sir," she amended.

C899321's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "I've survived worse, little engineer. Save your pity for the human females." He blew over her nipples, knowing damn well what he was doing to her. "They had to breed with a primitive cyborg, tolerate my touch. Even with the breeding drugs, they weren't as aroused as you are right now."

She had to get her attraction to him under control. Joan scrubbed harder, rubbing the cleaning cloth over his grooved cheeks, his flattened nose, his full sensual lips. "I'm caring for you because this is my duty, sir." This reminder was more for herself than for him. "This is what I've trained my entire life to do."

He opened his mouth. She chattered about nonsense, not allowing the cyborg to speak, to use that sexy voice of his against her.

As she told him about the agri lot she grew up on, the solar cycles spent as a ward, the courses she mastered at the Academy, Joan explored the squareness of his jaw, his compact neck, wide shoulders, sculpted biceps, pecs, abs. He had lived longer than many humans and had scars that made her cringe, yet was a prime male specimen, fit, strong, virile.

She progressed downward. "What happened here, sir?" She touched the dozens of lighter nicks of skin over his stomach, having seen similar marks on his face and chest. "These are fresh." They'd occurred more recently than his scars and had completely healed. "But they're not battle wounds."

He didn't answer.

She gazed upward. His face was hard, his anger returning.

Joan caressed his hips with the cloth. The nearer she moved to his cock, the more concentrated the marks became. She paused when she reached his base. She had cleaned plenty of mock cyborgs at the academy but this was different. This cock was attached to a real male.

"You're to clean all of me." C899321 pushed his hips forward, thrusting his shaft toward her. "Must I do your job for you, female?"

"No, sir." Joan jutted her jaw. "I can do this. It's like cleaning a female bovine's teat." She folded the cloth around him.

"I'm a cyborg, not an animal."

"We're all animals, sir." She stroked him once, twice. His cock was thick and long and had an interesting ridge. As the blood disappeared, she realized that the ridge was another scar. "They experimented on your cock?"

"They removed one of my balls." His voice deepened even more.

Shit. She cupped his sac, having avoided looking directly at this private part of him. He was right. One ball had been severed.

"What was the point of that?" Her outrage grew. "They could have taken a seminal fluid sample without removing a testicle."

"They wanted to see if the nanocybotics would repair it."

"A tiny portion would have shown them that." She no longer wondered why he was so angry. She wondered why more humans hadn't died.

Because his torture hadn't ended with the experiments. His shaft and sac were also striped with nicks. "Did my predecessor make these fresh wounds, sir?" Joan caressed him with the cloth. A bead of pre-cum formed on his tip and she cleaned that too, poking into his slit.

He grunted, not answering her question.

She gazed at his cock. He remained hard. When the bovines weren't milked regularly, their teats would swell and crack, and the animals would then bellow with agony, the sound twisting her heart.

She didn't want C899321 to endure more pain.

"I could...ummm...finish you, sir." She couldn't look at him while she said this.

"Finish me?"

She waved at his cock. "I could milk you with my hands, release the tension."

A long nerve-racking pause followed her embarrassing offer.

She peeked up at him. He stared down at her, his eyes sparking with emotion.

"Sir?"

He shook his head, his long hair, now dry, brushing against his broad face. "Finish cleaning me, female. You can milk me like one of your beloved bovines later," he promised as though that was a treat he was granting her.

"My offer benefited you, not me," Joan muttered.

She glided the cloth over his thighs, knees, shins, catching the drips on his feet. He then turned and she repeated the process, moving downward, learning the breadth of his shoulders, the small of his back, the indents in his ass cheeks.

He couldn't watch her and that made it easier to clean between them. The nicks deepened into gouges around his puckered hole.

"He violated you, sir?" That was outside her realm of understanding. Caring for a cyborg was a trusted duty, one half of a partnership. "If you hadn't already terminated him, I would have."

"He was one of your kind." The cyborg didn't believe her. "You would have joined in or done worse."

"You don't know me." She snapped the cloth, ensuring it had renewed fully, and cleaned his thighs and calves. "I should report him."

"He's dead. What purpose would that serve?"

It wouldn't serve any purpose, other than embarrass the engineer's family. "You should have justice, sir." She scrubbed his heels.

He turned, pushing her away from him. "I took my own justice." He backed into the docking station. His cock remained hard, jutting from his hairless base. "As I'll take my own justice when you harm me."

She shivered, his tone telling her he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. "I'd never harm you, sir." A cleaning bot rolled between her bare feet, sucking up the spilled blood. Would it be her blood it cleaned in the future?

"Kneel before me," the cyborg ordered.

She obeyed, gazing up at him. His eyes blazed, reflecting lust, triumph, a hint of cruelty. The cyborg enjoyed having her at his mercy.

And she liked following his commands...a little too much.

"Put those agri skills to work and milk me, female."

"My name is Joan, sir." If he planned to kill her, he should know that. She ran her hands over him from base to tip and back again. He was soft skin over hard metal, ridged with the scar, smooth at his bloomed cock head, his shaft slick, self-lubricating. "You're C899321."

"You'll call me sir." He grunted, swaying into her fingers.

"You're in pain, sir." This was a kindness, not a sexual favor, she told herself.

Joan skimmed her fingertips over his solitary ball. He quivered, unable to hold back his reaction to her touch.

She'd give him relief and he'd feel grateful to her. Gratitude would lead to trust.

Joan stroked his shaft, formulating a plan.

"That's it, female. Touch me with those delicate human hands." He moved faster against her, animalistic noises coming from his throat, raw and fierce. "Show me how you can serve me."

"I will, sir." She'd show him and he'd decide to keep her, allow her to live. This hand job could delay her death for a planet rotation or a solar cycle or permanently.

Joan tightened her grip, increasing the friction, and his cock bobbed with appreciation. "You'll never wish for another engineer."

"I don't need an engineer." The skin on his face pulled tight, his lips flattening. "That's why I killed the last one."

No, he killed the engineer because the human hurt him, tortured him. He wasn't a bad being. She worked him with everything she had, with all the experience she'd gathered over the solar cycles, all the passion in her lonely, neglected heart. Her breasts jiggled with her efforts. Her knees protested their contact with the hard floor.

It wasn't enough for him. He covered her hands with his, guiding her up and down, up and down his shaft, his ball slapping against her fingers. "Frag." His voice reached deep inside her. "Frag. Frag." He sounded desperate. "Make me come, female."

She slipped one of her hands away from his, folded her fingers over his sac and squeezed. He roared, driving his hips forward, pushing her backward. Cum arced from his tip, splattered on her breasts, and she screamed with ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing.

The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, his essence warming, tingling, pinching, a thousand bubbles bursting over her skin. It was too much, too good.

"Need. Relief." She reached to wipe his cum off her breasts.

"No." C899321 caught her wrists, preventing her from removing his savage branding. She twisted, writhed, whimpering, trying to free herself, light and sound blurring.

It was several moments before her rational thought returned.

"What was that, sir?" She slumped against his legs, worn out by pleasure.

"My nanocybotics." He released her wrists. "They're concentrated in my cum and, to a lesser extent, my saliva. Your skin will absorb them. Until I give you permission to move, stay where you are and don't touch them."

Joan gazed up at him, blinking, her mind numb. He wanted to mark her.

It was the primitive action of a primitive male.

And she had no objections.

### Chapter Two

Rage looked down at the tiny human female kneeling by his feet. Her eyes were closed, her lush curves pressed against his shins, her breathing level and deep.

Yet her mouth continued to move.

He shook his head. Even sleep didn't stop her talking, the flow of words bombarding his processors. She muttered about her beloved agri lot, her two female siblings, her mother and father and a collection of oddly named creatures he suspected were bovines.

He'd called her 'female.' Her, a human, a member of a species known for cruelty and torture. Logically, he understood why he'd used the cherished endearment.

He hadn't bred with a female for a human's lifespan and none of those partners had ever voluntarily touched him. The females had endured the forced experience, not giving him any more than was necessary. They hadn't gazed up at him, brown fire-lit curls framing a round beautiful face, brown eyes shining with an eagerness to please him. They certainly hadn't asked to finish him, their voice husky with passion.

Rage had been weak and she must have known that, used his breeding-starved state to her advantage. Her little engineer wasn't the sweet submissive she pretended to be. She was stronger than most humans, intelligent, judging from the logic dripping from her pink lips, and the most sensual creature he'd ever encountered.

She followed his orders because it served her cruel purposes. There was no doubt in his processors that she intended to hurt him. She worked for the Humanoid Alliance.

He'd broken too many of their rules.

Any disobedience of a human's commands was viewed as a malfunction, a sign that a cyborg was unstable. Unstable cyborgs couldn't be controlled. They were deemed dangerous and immediately decommissioned, killed slowly, painfully.

That should have been his fate when he'd lost his temper, broken his restraints, and slain his handler. He had been prepared to die fighting. Instead, he'd been assigned a soft-handed female.

The only reason the Humanoid Alliance would do that would be to inflict more pain on him.

"C345925," she mumbled, twitching with agitation, her eyes remaining closed.

He didn't like hearing another cyborg's model number on her lips, could kill her for that alone.

And he would kill her. The only unknown variable was when. He preferred to wait until repositioning, the planet rotation his fellow cyborgs had chosen to escape.

Until then, he would use her as his primitive design demanded. He'd been manufactured for two functions—to breed and to fight, and she was a fertile female, her big breasts and wide hips inciting his basest instincts. He'd called her female. His gaze rested on the dried cum coating her right nipple. He'd already marked her. In his mind, she was his.

"No other male will touch you." He nudged her with his foot. "Understand?"

She blinked her long eyelashes, her gaze soft and unfocused. "I understand, sir. You're my priority."

"I'm your everything." Rage unfastened the energy and nourishment tubes from his wrists. "Your life is mine to end when I wish."

She tilted her chin upward, stubbornness in the line of her jaw. "Yes, sir."

The female was brave. He had to give her credit for that. "It's time to dress for deployment."

She reached for her flight suit.

"No." He stepped on the stained fabric. "You dress me first." He enjoyed looking at her body and being unclothed embarrassed her. Humans were prudish about nudity, believed they humiliated the cyborgs by keeping them naked.

Rage didn't care who saw his bare ass.

He watched his female's curves jiggle as she hurried to the far wall. She pressed the panel. It opened to reveal his armor and weapons.

"The body armor first, little engineer." His instructions were unnecessary. She was already been reaching for it. But he liked telling her what to do.

She liked it also, her tantalizing musky scent strengthening. He aroused her. Everything else might be a lie but her physical reaction to him, to his voice, his touch, was real. He didn't know how to process it, had never had a female desire him.

"You can do this, Joan." The pep talk the female gave herself entertained Rage. "You've carried similar sets." She huffed and puffed yet managed to convey the heavy armor to him, her cheeks flushing with her efforts.

His female then vigorously rubbed the armor with her palms. He stepped forward, raised his arms and waited. She continued to chafe the black surface.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"The armor is cold, sir." She gazed at him. "I'm warming it for you."

She was warming it for him. Rage stared at her. No other handler had worried about the temperature of his armor.

"Give it to me." He yanked it from her hands and lifted it over his head. The suit clicked into place, expanded, covering his torso, back, groin, ass. "Arm coverings next."

She ran to the wall panel, selected them, and rushed back to him, her responsiveness to his orders gratifying. He held out his arms, allowing her to fasten them.

"Did you dress your C345925?" Where did _that_ question come from? He didn't care about her past.

"No, sir." She retrieved his leg coverings. "C345925 was in full battle gear when he saved me." She bent to attach them, sticking her plump ass in the air.

A cyborg saved his little engineer. That was her story, her attempt to win his sympathy. He grunted, watching her skeptically, his eyelids partially lowered.

His female suited him up quickly, efficiently, telling him about her imaginary rescue. She'd been eleven solar cycles when it happened, young for a human female. The cyborg's orders had been to fight the Mantidae.

That, alone, exposed her lie. A cyborg would never abandon a mission, not unless he wished to be decommissioned. Every action while on deployment was monitored and any deviation was viewed by the humans as a malfunction. Saving her would have meant C345925's death.

There was a way to hack the monitoring but that had taken Crash four solar cycles to accomplish. Rage doubted her cyborg had his friend's advanced knowledge.

"Sir, did you... ummm..." The female chewed on her bottom lip. "Ever meet C345925?"

"There were hundreds of thousands of C models," he said, unable to hold back his sarcastic tone. "We don't all know each other." And she would count on that possibility. He couldn't refute her story.

"Oh." She was a good little liar, his female, her disappointment appearing genuine. "Should I bring you your weapons now, sir?"

"Never touch a warrior's weapons." He strode to the wall panel and filled sheaths with daggers, strapped guns to his back, slung long guns over his shoulders. Any one of these could end his little engineer's life, yet she fussed over him, straightening straps and brushing off his armor.

She wasn't fearless. He smelled the terror radiating from her lush body. But she pushed past her fright and that earned his admiration.

He enjoyed her touch, too much for his comfort. Rage gazed down at her full breasts, his fingers twitching to cup them. They'd be soft, warm, heavy, in his hands.

He wrangled his desire under control. She was a disposable being, destined to die, and a deceitful human, planning to harm him. He couldn't forget that.

"Dress." His voice was gruff.

"Yes, sir." She scrambled for her cyborg-gray flight suit, pulling the dirty garment over her white skin, covering her pert nipples. As she fastened the suit, fabric pulled tightly over her breasts and hips, accentuating her curves. "Am I presentable, sir?" She ran her hands over her out-of-control brown curls, her hair defying the artificial gravity of the battle station.

"No," he answered truthfully. "You're a mess." Her suit was stained, her hair crazy. "In the future, you'll keep clothing in my chambers."

"Yes, sir." Her round face turned as pink as her nipples.

Rage sensed a human's presence outside the chambers. The battle station buzzed with an energy shield, limiting his monitoring of his surroundings and prohibiting any communication with his fellow cyborgs, but he could survey the hallway with his pulses.

"It's time, little engineer."

"Oh." She straightened, her scent communicating excitement mixed with trepidation. "I'll go first." She pressed her palm to the panel and the interior door slid open. The humans thought this measure stopped cyborgs from escaping. They didn't realize the palm didn't have to be attached to a living being.

Rage followed her into the buffer area between the two doors.

Boyd, the weak wanna-be warrior, already stood there, heavily armed, the male not as brave as Rage's female. He lifted his eyebrows when he saw them. "You survived, Cadet Tits." His gaze dropped to her bloodstained knees. "I see how. You spent the shift servicing a cyborg." He smirked.

The female's blush deepened to a fiery crimson. "My name is Cadet Tull."

Although it would save her pride, she didn't lie, didn't deny servicing him. She was claiming him. Pride warmed Rage's chest.

"Maybe, after this deployment, you and I could come to an agreement." Boyd leered at her.

She placed her palm on the sensor. The exterior door slid open and she stepped into the hallway. "My duty is to C899321, not to you." His little female strutted along the hallway with the dignity of a Commander, her head held high, her back straight.

Entertained by her antics, Rage trailed her, his tread silent, his stride slowed to match hers.

"If you're nice to me, I'll be nice to you." Boyd jabbed the muzzle of his long gun into Rage's back, the armor dulling the impact. "It might extend your life expectancy... by a few planet rotations." He snickered.

He expected her to die. Rage frowned. Boyd was too dumb to lie well.

"I'll take my chances." She accessed another control panel. Boyd did the same, two authorizations required for the hallway doors leading to the docking bay. Again, all that was needed were their palms. Foolish humans. "Thank you very much."

She had no respect for the human male. Rage sniffed the air. And no attraction. That pleased him. He didn't want another's scent on her skin.

They walked through secured door after secured door. Rage monitored the hallway in front of and behind him, surveying the space for threats with his energy pulses, while keeping his gaze on the swaying ass of his female.

The closer he moved to the docking bay, the more of the hallway he could sense. As they passed through the final door, Crash and Gap connected with him.

_They rewarded you with a female for killing your handler?_ Crash was the first to comment, using frequencies only cyborgs could access.

_Fraggin' hole. I should have killed mine._ Gap, the youngest, blathered.

_You wouldn't know what to do with a female_ , Crash countered. Neither of them had been in breeding programs. They bemoaned that lack. Rage considered them fortunate.

_She's my handler._ He attempted to shut down their breeding talk. _That she's female will make her easier to kill._

It was waste of energy. _I didn't know human females came in that size._ Gap was irritatingly open with his admiration.

_She's built for a cyborg._ Crash was as enamored with her.

But she'd be soft since she's a human.

Her flight suit is the color of our skin.

Rage ignored their comments, listening instead to the chatter amongst the human handlers. There was shock, surprise, speculation.

The female wasn't supposed to survive. Commander Lewis would be angry. She must be fucking the cyborg. A female who'd fuck a machine would fuck anyone. Better get a piece of that ass before the cyborg kills her.

Rage didn't understand this new development, having never seen human handlers turn on their own kind. Was this a trick to earn his sympathy? It involved too many beings for this to be probable. He closed some of the gap between him and his female.

A trickle of sweat dripped down her neck. She was aware of the looks, of the talk.

"You will limit your exposure to the human males," he ordered, lowering his voice for her hearing only.

"Yes, sir."

Her reply was repeated with wonder by the cyborgs. Respect from a handler was rare and never vocalized in public.

_What did you do to your human?_ Awe wrapped around Gap's transmission. _She listens to you_.

The two cyborgs waited next to their ship, their handlers and guards beside them. They were newer models, E and G, smaller in size, with human features. Crash's eyes were a matte black, the result of an earlier unsuccessful attempt to mimic human eyes. The designers had succeeded with Gap, his eyes pale gray.

Some human females might have found the youngest cyborg sexually appealing.

Not his female. Rage didn't sense any arousal from her.

_She more than listens to you._ Crash's nostrils flared. _Your scent is all over her, big guy._

_You lucky bag of bolts._ Gap perused the female a little too thoroughly, his eyes glowing.

A low growl escaped Rage's lips before he could suppress it.

His friends inhaled sharply, expecting retaliation from the humans. Any sign of emotion was cause for decommissioning.

His female turned. Rage placed his hands on his weapons, preparing to defend himself, to kill as many humans as he could before they killed him.

She ignored him, glaring up at Boyd instead. "Did you touch him?" She demanded, her eyes sparking with gold. "Because if you did, I'll report you. No one touches him except me.

"We all know how you touch it." The human male sniggered. "Did you enjoying sucking that dim-witted machine's—"

"Don't call him that." Rage's little engineer took a step forward. "He's more intelligent than you are."

She was defending a cyborg to a human. His brethren chattered, expressing their astonishment through their private transmission lines. Rage didn't know how to process her actions.

"It's a machine." Boyd took a step forward also. "A weapon to be used. One word to the Commander and he'll be spare parts, decom—"

The little engineer slammed the heel of her hand against the male's nose. Boyd howled. Blood spurted from his nostrils.

Rage stared at her with admiration. The female could fight.

Against a human. A cyborg could defeat her with one blow.

"Don't ever threaten to harm my cyborg again." The female bounced on the balls of her feet, her fingers folded into fists, ready to punch the male again. "He's risking his life every deployment to save humans. You will respect him."

_I think I'm in love._ Crash, the idiot, blathered.

_I came in my armor._ Gap added to the foolishness.

"You'll get what's coming to you, cyborg slut." Boyd held his bleeding nose.

"If I do, everyone will know who's responsible." She proved her cleverness yet again. "They heard what you said. I should—"

"It is time for deployment," Rage droned, all emotion erased from his voice. Any delay in deployment would bring his ship under more scrutiny, making their escape more difficult.

His female bowed her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I allowed him to distract me."

He held out his wrists, not saying anything. She pressed the release buttons, giving him permission to leave the battle station and board his ship. It was an unnecessary step as Crash had already modified the failsafe, but the humans weren't aware of that, not yet.

"Be careful, sir," she whispered, placing her palms on his chest.

_Be careful, sir._ Cyborgs mocked him.

Don't damage that ugly C model mug of yours.

Keep your cock in one piece.

Irritated by their comments, Rage turned on his booted heels, knocking his female away from him as he moved. She gasped yet didn't protest his brutish treatment.

This, for some reason, increased his anger.

And the taunting.

Be rough with me, sir.

You know I like it like that.

You're such an animal.

_Frag off._ He'd never hear the end of this. Rage grunted and stomped up the ramp. He should have killed his little engineer as the humans expected.

* * *

Midway into the deployment, Rage was in a better mood. Fighting always calmed him. He rolled on the ash-covered ground, shooting Mantidae left and right, his muscles aching, his arms humming with the recoil of his guns.

The insects were massive, requiring multiple shots to down them, and fast, requiring all of his cyborg speed. But they weren't overly intelligent, their brains muddled by the need to reach their breeding planets and reproduce.

Rage, for the first time in his lifespan, knew how they felt, his cock aching for a certain engineer's warm, wet pussy. He doubted she'd ever had a C model cyborg. There were few of his kind left. She'd fit tightly around him.

A projectile skimmed his arm, slicing through his armor. Fraggin' hole. He blasted the Mantidae in the eyeball, exploding its skull. He had to keep his head in the game.

He cleared the last intruder from his portion of planet and then helped Gap, the youngest, protect his territory. The kid grumbled about doing it himself. Rage ignored him, not commenting when the cyborg mimicked his attacks.

He had been a young cyborg once, learning from the A and B models. That was something the humans didn't understand. They tended to group the young cyborgs with their own models, not allowing the transfer of knowledge.

The last Mantidae fell and they strode back to their camp. Crash waited there. They'd cleared his territory first, allowing him more time to work on the human's systems.

"You're mellow today, Rage." He grinned. "I wonder why."

"Frag off." Truthfully, he _did_ feel more relaxed, almost happy. He rolled his shoulders, joints cracking.

"Sounds like you need another round of breeding." The E model cyborg waved a handheld over their napes, pausing the recording mechanism. "Providing your handler's still alive when we return."

"I don't care." Rage hid his concerns under nonchalance. He didn't like the thought of another being touching his female. "If they kill her, it'll save me the trouble. They all have to die." He lowered his ass to a rock.

"Yes, they do." Gap gingerly claimed a makeshift seat beside him. He'd been favoring his backside all day.

Rage knew what that meant and it angered him. He could take the human's torture but Gap was a young cyborg. He hadn't yet built up the emotional defenses. "We'll kill them quickly. Show them mercy they didn't show us." That would also speed their escape.

"Your female doesn't act like the others." Gap sorted through the supplies and weapons they'd retrieved from the dead Mantidae.

"She's _exactly_ like the others." Rage had to stop that thinking immediately. "Human females are more cunning and deceitful than males." He removed his armor. "They're also crueler."

"What's her plan?" Crash sliced open Rage's wrists.

Pain shot up his arms. "Don't know." He gritted his teeth as his friend poked into his mechanics. "Whatever it is, she won't be successful."

"The other handlers hate her." Crash extracted a tracking device with his grippers. "I've never witnessed anything like that. Dislike, yes, but the males wish to kill her."

"Many wish to breed with her first," Gap added.

"Or after." Crash located the tracking device in Rage's other wrist. "Whether she agrees to the breeding or not. They are sick beings, the humans." He examined the tiny pieces of engineering, his forehead furrowing in thought. "This is complicated. I could take it apart, risk activating it."'

"Sending the humans after us," Rage rumbled.

"Or we could simply remove them before escaping."

"And risk detection." Neither alternative was good. "We could tape the sensors to our skin and kill the handlers before they remove our armor."

"That could work." Crash nodded. "I'll tell the others."

"Do we have to wait for repositioning?" Gap wiggled.

Rage understood his impatience. He wished he could kill the young cyborg's handler now also. "We need a reason to load the Mantidae weapons and our other supplies on our ships. The lazy humans will assume the extra items are the remnants of our camps."

"Repositioning is also chaotic." Crash reinserted the tracking devices into Rage's wrists. "They'll be focused on external, not internal threats."

Every cyborg would be on board the station, giving them the strength of numbers, and their handlers would be distracted. Not having an immediate deployment to prepare for, they would use that excuse to relax, drink too much, carouse.

Would his female allow herself to be touched, fondled?

Rage would kill her before that happened.

The wounds over his wrists healed, leaving strips of paler skin. His clever female would notice that, as she'd noticed the wounds on his groin. He'd ask Crash to cut his wrists every deployment so she didn't suspect their intentions.

It would be painful, but that was life—pain and betrayal.

Soon, it would be freedom.

"Green wants to know if he can take Windy with us." Crash cleaned his grippers. "I told him his plant would take up space and require resources. He said he'd rather stay on the battle station than leave her behind."

"It's his ship. He can do what he likes." Rage didn't care.

"I'll relay that." Crash handled the communications with the other cyborgs.

"Do you think they'll have females like yours in the Homeland?" Gap tossed a severed Mantidae claw over his shoulder.

Reaching the cyborg Homeland, a planet seized by their brethren, was their goal. There would be no more pain, no more orders to obey, no more humans to torture them. They would have total control.

"There are no humans in the Homeland." And Rage had met no other female like his.

"Oh." Gap's shoulders slumped.

"There are cyborg females." Crash turned his attention toward their ship, rerouting the critical systems so they didn't flow through the tracking beacons. "But I hear not all of them are accommodating."

"Very few of them are accommodating," Rage grumbled. Their nanocybotics were hostile to those of any intruder, especially a dominant male's.

"Maybe they'll be accommodating to me." Hope lit Gap's unmarked face. "I don't scare others as you do, Rage."

He didn't scare his little human. Rage took apart damaged weapons and pieced them back together, creating functional units.

They worked, Crash and Gap chattering as much as his female, talking about their plans for the future. Rage listened, commented only when needed.

The Mantidae slowly approached until they couldn't be ignored any longer. "We'll perform one last sweep of our territory." He stood, heaving his biggest gun over his right shoulder. "This will be one of our bloodier deployments."

Crash set his tools aside, his reluctance obvious. The cyborg didn't enjoy fighting as Rage did. "Your human told you to be careful."

"When she sees me, we'll know if her concern is genuine." Rage doubted that it was. He stalked toward the enemy, determined to vent some of his frustration on their green skulls.

### Chapter Three

Joan wasn't dumb. She knew the other engineers wanted her dead. She heard the whispered rumblings of their discontent, their crude comments and dire predictions.

Attacking Boyd didn't help her situation but he had left her with no choice. The guard had disrespected her cyborg, threatened to harm him. She had to take action, had to show all of them that she'd protect C899321.

Knowing she'd be targeted, Joan took precautions. She left the docking bay in the company of others, gambling that they wouldn't want an audience to witness their assaults. When she stocked the chamber with supplies and extra flight suits—red to reflect her new position, she asked an extremely enthusiastic medic cadet to help her carry and arrange the items. Now, she waited at the intersection between the busy main hallway and the less-traveled route to the cyborg's chambers.

A group of cybernetic engineers turned down the cyborg hallway. One of those engineers was her friend, Denny.

She joined them, falling in step beside him. "Thank you for trying to warn me," she murmured.

Although he didn't say anything, staring straight ahead, he heard her, his body stiffening. Joan matched him stride for stride, feeling a little less alone, almost part of their group.

"I heard that cyborg fucked that fat ass of yours, Tits." Plank, the meanest cadet in their graduating class, called from behind her. "Did you moo like one of those bovines you love?"

His two henchmen, cadets she nicknamed Dumb and Dumber, sniggered.

Joan ignored him. He'd been spreading rumors about her for solar cycles, had been responsible for her unfortunate nickname.

"The cyborg had to take you from behind." Plank closed the gap between them. "Not even a machine could maintain a hard-on while looking at your face." He shoved her against the wall, knocking the air out of her lungs.

She staggered backward, hurt but not worried. There were bystanders, witnesses. One of them included her friend. They'd stop Plank and his buddies.

"Don't move, cyborg slut." Dumb and Dumber pinned her shoulders, grinding her into the panel. "We don't want to see your face either."

No one stepped forward. No one said anything.

There were three of them. Only one of her.

"Denny," she called for her friend. He'd help her.

"You know Tits, Olsen?" Plank asked.

"No." He continued walking, not looking back.

She stared at him, some of the fight oozing out of her. Her friend had deserted her.

"We'd kill you." Plank pushed her face against a seam in the panels. "But the machine will do that job for us." Metal scraped against her cheek, leaving a trail of pain. "Last shift, it had already vented its rage on your predecessor. This planet rotation, it will turn on you. You'll die slowly, painfully, Tits."

Rage was the right word for Plank to associate with her cyborg. Joan had watched the footage. Most of it. A malfunction had erased several particles of time. The other males called him Rage.

"I'd rather him kill me than you," she muttered against the wall. The cyborg killed quickly. Plank would torture her for an entire shift before completing the deed.

"You'll get that wish." The engineer knocked her head against the panel. Explosions of pain and brightness exploded in her brain.

"On your own time, cadets," a stern voice cut through the buzzing in her ears. "Your deployments are returning."

The three engineers released her. "Yes, sir." They snapped into a salute and walked away, leaving her slumped against the wall.

"Thank you, sir." Joan turned, managed a sloppy salute.

"I stopped it because no one interferes with the ship's timetable, Cadet." There was no kindness on Commander Lewis' face. "Not because I care about your welfare."

"I understand, sir." She understood she was on her own. She also understood that no one would attack her close to deployment start or completion time.

The Commander nodded and strode off, a smirk on his face.

No one expected her to survive the pairing with her cyborg, with Rage. They thought he was a killing machine.

And in the footage, while he was in battle, he had been, slaughtering the Mantidae swiftly, efficiently, his biceps bulging, his huge body almost graceful.

But when he spoke with the other cyborgs, Crash and Gap, he'd shown his human side. He'd been surly, yes, and often impatient, but he'd also been tolerant, allowing the others to tease and taunt him.

She hurried toward his chambers, wishing to be there when he entered them. If she earned his respect, as the cyborgs had, he might also become as tolerant of her, allowing her to serve him. Then all she had to do was avoid everyone else on the station and she'd live.

She accessed the chambers and waited between the two sets of doors for her cyborg to return.

* * *

Rage walked through the door, covered in dried blood, a piece of metal lodged underneath his right eye, his armor battered and torn, and Joan felt faint, the floor unsteady under her feet.

"I told you to be careful." Her voice rose to a screech. According to the footage, he'd returned to the battle station clean after the previous deployments. What had happened during this planet rotation?

Her cyborg gazed at her, his eyes blazing with fury. His fingers folded into massive fists.

Was he preparing to use them on her?

She gulped air. "Sir."

Boyd, that rectal wipe, sniggered, his nose bruised and swollen. "Your rough day is about to get rougher, Cadet Tits." The door closed in front of him.

"Did he do this?" Rage touched the scratch on her cheek and she winced. "No one harms what is mine."

Although she knew it was the primitive C Model in him speaking, his possessive tone still curled her toes. "It wasn't Boyd, sir, and I'm more concerned about you." She led him through the inner door, toward her hoard of medic supplies. "I'll spray your wounds first, then I'll remove the shrapnel so they can heal."

"Before tending to me, you'll treat own wounds." He remained angry on her behalf and that warmed her insides.

"They don't hurt much, sir." She wouldn't lie to him, wouldn't tell him they didn't hurt her. Joan searched through her stash, located a pain inhibitor. "And I don't have metal sticking out of my face."

He grumbled.

"Close your eyes, sir," she instructed.

He gazed at her warily.

_He doesn't trust me._ Joan sighed. "Here." She sprayed her wrist, numbing it. "It won't hurt you. See? And you have other senses. Use them."

He closed his eyes.

She misted his face wound with the pain inhibitor, the moisture leaving trails on his blood-smeared cheeks. "You can open them again." She doused every wound she could find, wishing to ease his torment.

"What did you do to me, female?" he roared, touching his cheek. "I can't feel my face."

"That's how pain inhibitors work, sir." Why was he being so irrational? Unless... She paused, gazed upward at him. "Didn't your previous engineers use them before they treated your wounds?"

"And reduce the pain of a machine?" He glared at her. "What do you think?"

They plucked shrapnel from his body without giving him anything to dull the agony. The anger in Joan escalated. "They must have used them when they removed your ball."

"They didn't." Rage's lips twisted. "They used a prolonger. Do you know what that does, little engineer?"

She did. Joan felt faint.

"It kept me conscious but didn't dull my pain. I felt everything."

Shit. "It was designed to keep you alive on the battlefield, allowing you to return to base camp where medic supplies were available."

The Humanoid Alliance had used it to torture him. Joan couldn't think about that right now. She had to focus on her injured cyborg.

"I don't understand some humans." She picked up a pair of grippers and stepped on the elevation platform, rising to his level.

"I don't understand any humans." Rage watched her. "Especially not you."

"Be still, sir." Her hands trembled, the prospect of hurting him causing her stomach to twist. "I'll try to be gentle." She captured the piece of metal between the jaws of the grippers and pulled. It was stuck securely. She pulled harder.

The metal dislodged. Joan fell backward.

Rage strapped his arms around her, his reflexes inhumanly fast, his quick response preventing her from toppling off the elevation platform. "Careful, female."

"Thank you, sir." She avoided his gaze, acutely aware of the heat of his palms through the fabric of her flight suit. "Got it." She held the piece of metal up, triumphant.

"You should be naked." He didn't release her, rubbing his fingers over her back, cleaning them on her flight suit. "That's our agreement."

"You said I should be naked when you are, sir." She turned her attention to the wound on his shoulder. That piece of what looked like green shell was removed easier.

"You'll be naked when we are alone." He leaned forward, his nostrils flaring.

_Is he smelling me?_ Joan removed an unknown material from his side.

"Female," he barked and she jumped. "We're alone."

"Yes, sir, Rage, sir." She liked saying his name. Joan balanced the grippers on one of the armor-covered shoulders, using him as a horizontal support, and she unfastened her flight suit. Undressing didn't feel as awkward as it did yesterday.

That wasn't a good thing. Her cheeks heated as she lowered the fabric, revealing her full breasts, taut nipples, wide hips. He'd smell her arousal. Again. She slipped her feet out of her boots.

"They damaged your breasts also." The cyborg cupped her curves, lifting them, as though testing their weight. Joan bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan of approval, his hands big and rough yet agonizingly gentle. "Did the males touch them?" He fondled her breasts, swiping his thumbs back and forth across her nipples.

"No, sir." Her voice was husky. "They smacked me against a wall panel."

"Because they believed we were breeding."

She should say yes. Rage would view that as a personal affront, might extend some protection to her.

But it would be a lie and she wouldn't lie to her cyborg. "Because they wanted me dead, sir."

"Why do they want you dead, little engineer?" He licked the red mark on her skin with the flat of his hot, wet tongue and she quivered, her pussy dripping with need. "You're one of them."

"I'm female, sir." She panted as he sucked on her, his nanocybotics scattering her control, making her forget his wounds, her duty.

It was as though she was drugged. She couldn't resist him, didn't wish to stop him. Ever. She never wanted anything more than his mouth on her nipples. It wasn't natural. Yet it was. It felt right, real.

"They don't see me as an equal." She forced herself to think, to continue their conversation.

"You're stronger and cleverer than many of them." Rage flicked her right nipple and she gasped, the bliss fantastical. "How could they not perceive that?" He drew the peak into his mouth, torturing her with pleasure.

"You're stronger and cleverer than them, also, sir." She clung to his shoulders, her passion rising too quickly to manage. "Do they see you as equal?"

He growled against her, the vibration of his lips pushing her closer to the edge. "Do you dare to compare your situation to mine?" He wedged one of his hands between her legs, laying claim to her pussy.

"No, sir." She moved against him, brazenly rubbing her wetness over his fingers. "I serve you. You're my cyborg."

"I'm your master." His eyes glowed with pride and passion. "You belong to me, are mine to do with as I will."

"Yes, sir." She couldn't form a longer reply. Her breasts were alive with his touch, his nanocybotics working her like a thousand tiny tongues, concentrated where his mouth engulfed her skin. Her pussy warmed with the friction of his palm.

"Right now, I wish to repair your damage." He laved her breasts with his tongue, covering her with his unique form of care, spreading his seduction across her entire chest, and she writhed against him, fighting her release, wishing to delay this delicious torture.

"I want my female in prime condition when I breed with her." Rage pushed two of his large fingers inside her.

She whimpered, the fit tight, stretching her.

"You'll take me, little engineer." He spread his fingers, increasing the pressure. "Not today. You haven't yet earned that reward." He pumped her, his rhythm fast, hard, squeezing the breath from her chest. "But soon. I'll fill your snug human pussy with my cyborg cum."

"Yes, sir." Joan wiggled, impaled on his fingers.

"I'll breed with you whenever, wherever, however, I desire." His lips moved against her as he thrust his fingers between her pussy lips, filling her again and again. "And you'll deny me nothing because you serve me."

"I serve you, sir." _Let me come_ , she wanted to beg yet didn't dare. He was in control, would give her relief when, if he wished.

"When I tire of you, when you no longer satisfy my needs—"

She shook with want and need and an endless yearning. "You'll kill me, sir." Saying the words gave her some power and she wasn't scared of death, only of not finding release.

"Yes." He drove into her pussy with his fingers and nipped her breast with his lip-covered teeth.

She screamed, bearing down on his hand, taking him deeper inside her. Her inner walls constricted around him, as though trying to make their bond permanent.

His mouth tugged and pulled at her nipple, extending her orgasm until she had nothing left, sagging against him.

Rage drew her upward with one arm, this demonstration of his strength impressing her. "My female." He licked the scratch on her face. His nanocybotics warmed her skin as they repaired her damage. His fingers remained inside her.

"I've never reacted this way to a male, sir," she whispered, her loss of control scaring her. "Never. Is it the nanocybotics?"

"They didn't arouse the other females." He pulled his head back, viewed her once again with suspicion. "And you were wet before I touched you." Rage removed his fingers from her pussy. She felt their loss immediately. "Are you certain you're not on breeding drugs?" He sniffed his hand, then licked the glistening juices off his skin.

_He's tasting me._ Joan pushed away her embarrassment, focusing on her issue. "Do you detect anything, sir?"

"Fertile female."

"I'm not fertile, sir." She shook her head. "I took a fertility inhibitor ten planet rotations ago. It's viable for one solar cycle."

"It doesn't matter." His tone told her he didn't believe her. "You won't create offspring with me." He placed his weapons on a horizontal support.

"But—"

"Remove my armor and clean me." He abruptly ended the conversation.

She bent over, unfastened his leg coverings, set them aside to be cleaned and repaired, did the same with his arm coverings.

All the time, she talked about the previous deployment's battle, the footage she'd watched while he was fighting. There were areas where she could improve his speed, the motions of his mechanics. He grunted, saying little, frustratingly not adding to her knowledge base.

The body armor was a challenge. Joan struggled to lift it over his head.

After many humiliating moments, Rage finally relented and assisted her, covering her fingers with his. The warmth from his touch lingered long after he released her.

She inspected him for wounds, extracted more shrapnel, and then removed the blood and grime, swiping the cleaning cloth over his face, neck, shoulders, back, cock and lower. There wasn't one patch of skin she didn't touch.

She noticed the wounds on his wrists. She wasn't an idiot. She realized that was where the designers had hidden two of the three tracking devices. But she said nothing, knowing he didn't trust her enough to talk about his plans.

"Do you wish me to relieve your pain, sir?" She gestured at his hard cock. He'd been erect since she removed his armor.

"You can suck me off later in your shift." His low voice revived passions that should be sated. "When your cheek is fully healed."

That was very considerate of her rough, tough, I-plan-to-kill-you-soon cyborg. Joan smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"You won't thank me then." He glowered at her. "I plan to use you hard."

Her smile widened. She wanted to be used hard.

"Repair my armor," he commanded.

Joan not only repaired his armor, she improved it, using a new coating that had recently become available. While she worked, polishing every groove, Rage inspected and performed maintenance on his weapons. She shared information from bulletins she'd received on weapon upgrades. He listened, his big body leaning slightly toward hers.

Happiness wrapped around her heart. She was no longer alone.

"Spread your legs for me." His deep voice cut through her rambling on projectile management. "Show your cyborg how wet you are for him."

She suspected he wanted to humiliate her, to punish her for the pain others had given him. Instead, his gruff command aroused her, creating the wetness he desired.

She opened her thighs and tilted her hips upward, showing him everything. "Do you wish to breed with me, sir?"

She wished to fuck him, to take him deep inside her, to fill her womb with his unique seed. What would the nanocybotics feel like against her sensitive inner walls? She quivered, anticipating that bliss.

"I wish only to look at my female now." Rage's gaze lowered, his eyes sparking with blue bolts of energy. His cock remained hard.

He must be in pain. She darted her tongue over her bottom lip.

"You will taste me later." He placed his repaired weapons in the wall panel, securing them. "Have you ever killed a being?"

Joan blinked, this abrupt change of topic cooling her ardor. "I have, sir."

He lifted his eyebrows in silent inquiry.

Shit. He wished for more information. "There was a bovine, Wanderer." She gazed at him, seeing only the animal's face. "She was sweet, loving, would wait for me at the gate when I returned home from the primary academy. She got her name because she would wander from the herd. One day, she wandered too far." Joan swallowed, hard. "A predator found her. He ripped her stomach open and severed the tendons in her hind legs, laming her. He didn't kill her."

"You did that." Rage's voice was cold.

"I had to, sir." She clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. "She was in pain, bellowing for my help." She could still hear the cries now, pulling at her heart. "I couldn't fix her. It was too much. And she stared up at me with her big brown eyes as though she counted on me to stop her agony. My father told me he would have done the same, but could I have somehow saved her? I don't know." She thought about that even to this planet rotation.

"You're crying because you killed a bovine."

Was she? Joan swiped her fingers across her cheeks. Her skin was dry. "I never cry, sir."

"You were crying without tears." He wouldn't allow her the illusion of strength.

"I'm sorry, sir." She turned her head, hiding her face from him, ashamed that he saw what so many other beings didn't. "She was the first being I killed. There were other bovines, some predators, and then there was the attack on the agri lot."

"You killed your cyborg?"

"C345925 saved me. I would never harm him." She remembered how magnificent he was, how strong and fierce and brave. "I doubt anything could."

"He was a C model like me." Rage's tone was dry. "He could be killed."

"You remain alive." Joan gazed at her cyborg's broad shoulders, massive biceps, delineated abs. "C345925 could be alive also."

"Who did you kill during the attack, female? Some of your own kind?"

"No, I didn't kill a human then." Though she should have. Death by gunfire might have been less painful than being torn to pieces. "I shot some Mantidae. I don't know if I killed them."

"You didn't. They're difficult to kill."

"Oh." Her relief was mixed with sadness. The Mantidae killed her parents, her younger sisters. But the aliens' deaths had also weighed on her.

"When did you kill your own kind?" Rage was relentless with his questioning.

"I was in the service tunnels, making a repair to a valve, and a male grabbed me from behind." She chose her most recent kill. "I fought. He toppled into a deep shaft. I didn't stay to confirm his death but no one could have survived that fall." She never found out who he was. She didn't want to know.

"Did you enjoy killing him?"

She stared at him. What kind of question was that? "No being enjoys killing, sir."

"I do." Rage's eyes blazed. "You have proven you can kill to defend yourself." He removed a small dagger from his stash of weapons, placed it on a horizontal support. "You will carry this whenever you leave these chambers. If you're attacked again, you'll use it."

Joan stared at him. "Why are you giving me a weapon?"

"So you can more easily defend yourself." He looked at her as though that should have been obvious.

That wasn't what she was asking. "Do you care what happens to me, sir?"

His eyebrows lowered. "You belong to me, Joan. No one else will kill you."

He said her name. He saw her as an individual, not some generic female. A lightness filled her. "Thank you, sir."

Rage grunted and strode to the uploading dock. "We'll upload the images from the previous deployment now. Kneel by my feet and remain still."

He wanted her by his side. She hurried to obey his orders, to please him.

### Chapter Four

She was in pain.

His little female knelt in front of him, her eyes closed. She'd fallen asleep within moments. Rage suspected, from the state of their chambers, she'd spent the deployment working, not resting as she should have.

Then the dreams started. Her lush body twitched. Cable-twisting whimpers came from her throat. He'd pushed her to remember her past and now, she evidently envisioned the attack on her beloved agri lot.

The names she called were those of her friends and her siblings. Rage recognized them from the constant stream of words she'd inflicted upon him. She talked of death and terror, of waiting to die, wishing she'd been first.

Frag that nonsense. She was a survivor as he was. She took the worst the worlds could throw at her and soldiered on.

Not happily, not without scars as emotionally deep as the physical ones on his body. Shudders shook her form as she relived that planet rotation, sharing every moment with him, every fear, every hurt.

Everything his female thought escaped her mouth. Last planet rotation, he'd considered the flow of information refreshing. Much of his lifespan had been spent in silence. Now, he considered it a new form of torture.

He wished he could dismiss it as an act, as a ploy for sympathy, but Joan wouldn't lie in her sleep. She might be seeking to harm him, to hurt all cyborgs. That could remain a possibility. But her past agony was real.

And he couldn't allow it to continue. She'd defended him against the humans. He'd defend her against her memories.

Rage bent over and brushed the soft curls away from his little engineer's beautiful face. The tendrils coiled around his fingers, embracing him, strands of red interwoven with the brown. Even her hair knew she belonged to him.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. She sighed, calming, leaning into his touch. He licked her skin, tasting her salt and unique female flavor, allowing his nanocybotics to do what they do best—fix broken beings.

Joan's lips curled into a sweet smile, her skin glowing. "Rage," she breathed his name.

His big cyborg heart stopped for one beat and then resumed, the malfunction alarming him. Unaware of his response, she murmured gibberish about pleasing him and not being alone.

That caused a warmth to spread across his chest. Rage straightened, shaken.

This was her fault. She was dangerous and cunning and she didn't react to him as she should. None of the other females behaved this way. His nanocybotics healed their wounds but didn't arouse them.

All of those previous breedings had been arranged by the Humanoid Alliance. The females didn't voluntarily open their thighs to him. They had to be artificially lust-struck by drugs before they allowed him to touch them.

It defied logic that his little engineer, loyal to the same Humanoid Alliance, would be different. His processors told him that couldn't be true. His heart, however, said she was his, his to protect, his to breed with.

She crept closer to him and straddled his left leg, pressing her wet pussy against his skin, branding him with her musky scent. She, a human female, was claiming him, a cyborg. Not a newer model cyborg, either, with their human appearance and speech patterns. He was a C model, primitive, more machine than human.

He didn't know how to incorporate that input.

Other inputs didn't compute.

Why would she use a pain inhibitor on him? He hadn't known there was such a treatment. She could have forgone it and he wouldn't have noticed.

She hadn't repaired the wrist and ankle restraints. All equipment was to be kept in top working order. That was standard Humanoid Alliance protocol. Instead, his little engineer had removed the cuffs completely from the uploading dock. Why?

Why wouldn't she share the details of her attack? Rage remembered the marks on her face and breasts and a righteous anger filled him.

She could have gained his sympathy with that story. No one touched what was his. Yet she irritatingly didn't share the details, didn't identify her attacker, and he'd been unable to. There had been no skin-on-skin contact. The smell was too muted to link to a specific human.

He had given her a weapon, possibly to use against him. That could have been an error in logic. But he couldn't defend her while he was on deployment and he wouldn't allow any other being to hurt her.

He gazed down at her. She rubbed her breasts against his leg, back and forth, back and forth, whispering about how good it felt, how strong he was.

Confused and frustrated, with more questions than answers, Rage tolerated her touching, hyperaware of every brush of her skin against his. His little female required additional rest and then he'd put her constantly moving mouth to better use.

* * *

Rage waited until his processors threatened to overload and his ball was on the edge of exploding. Then he nudged her with his foot.

"What? Where?" She jolted upright. "Is it time for deployment, sir?" He liked that his female gazed up at him for direction, that she gave control over her timetable to him.

"It's time for you to suck your cyborg off." Rage pushed his hips forward, presenting his cock to her, half expecting her to reject him, to hurt him in that way.

"I'll please you, sir." His female beamed, her enthusiasm gratifying. "You won't regret this." She sprinkled kisses along his legs, laved his scars with her pink tongue, sending surges of pleasure upward.

Rage watched her with an almost obsessive fascination, the contrast of her pretty face against his marred gray skin exciting him. She was small and round. He was large and unrelenting. She swirled her tongue over a circular entry wound on his right thigh and his cock bobbed, anticipating that tender touch on his tip.

"You want me." He smelled her arousal, the scent filling his nostrils.

"I shouldn't, sir." She nibbled on his raised skin and at his control. "You're my cyborg, my superior." She avoided his gaze.

"But you do." He pushed for the answer he needed. "You want to mount me, to take my cyborg cock into your human pussy."

Her cheeks heated against him. "I do, sir." She traced the indent under his metal-reinforced hipbone with her lips, teasing him. "It isn't logical."

"It isn't," he agreed. Neither was his need for her mouth on his shaft. There was zero possibility of creating offspring. The only purpose was his pleasure.

She nuzzled against his sac, nipping and pulling at his skin, and his fingers twitched. He wanted to touch her, to hold her against him, yet he hesitated, knowing if he did, he'd lose himself in this, in her.

Was that what she wanted, what she waited for?

"Female."

"Yes, sir?" Joan gazed up at him, her eyes bleary with desire. No. She was as far gone as he was. His little engineer had no plans except pleasing him.

"Lick me," he ordered, seeking to take back control of the encounter.

She stuck out her dainty little tongue and swept it over him, from base to tip. He shuddered, defenseless under her erotic assault. She licked him again and again, wetting him, rendering his logic powerless, leaving him in the grip of his turbulent emotions.

She nipped at his rim and he folded his fingers into fists. "Stop playing with me." He couldn't disguise the need in his voice. "Suck me into your hot mouth."

Joan pushed her pink lips over his tip, the pressure exquisite, and she slowly sank down, down, down on him. She was wet, warm, undeniably female, and it took everything Rage had not to come instantly, not to shoot his seed down her throat.

He'd mark her. Soon.

But not now. He'd prolong his bliss, make this encounter last, because he didn't know if it would be their final one, if she'd ever touch him again.

Joan stopped short of his base and huffed, air skimming over his shaft. Was she disappointed that she couldn't take him completely? That was an impossible goal. He was a C model cyborg, designed to be large all over.

Her slender fingers curled around his base, covering his remaining shaft and Rage looked downward with passion and pride. She was a clever being, his female, improvising. And she was talented with her tongue. She tapped him, a gentle rhythm causing a constant barrage of sensations, heightening the experience.

She withdrew as leisurely as she took him, in no rush to finish him. The other females tolerated his cock in their pussies. Joan savored him, embracing him with her mouth, her eyelids partially lowered, her expression euphoric. Rage didn't know what to do with her response, how to deal with the pleasure she gave him.

She bobbed over him, taking him deep and pulling back, taking him deep and pulling back, breeding with him using her lips, mouth, hands. He couldn't remain still. Commanded by her touch, his body moved, swaying toward her.

Then he realized what he was doing.

Fraggin' hole. His female had enthralled him. Seeking to reestablish his dominance, he thrust harder, deeper into her mouth. She drew away from him.

"Behave, female." He threaded his fingers through her soft curls and held her still, forcing her to take his cock. "Serve your cyborg."

She struggled for a couple of moments, squirming and spluttering. Rage maintained his punishing pace until she quieted, until she docilely accepted his invasion, and then he slowed, his need to regain control appeased.

"I'm your master." He drove into her mouth. She realized that now, he thought smugly. There would be no more acts of sexual aggression toward him. He would give and she would receive.

She excelled at receiving, his little human sucking on him, her full cheeks indenting around his shaft. He'd never seen anything as beautiful as her lips wrapped around his shaft.

Rage ravished her mouth. She gripped his hips, holding onto him, her blunt short fingernails digging into his skin. With every drive forward, his lone ball smacked against her chin, the pain escalating his joy. With every withdrawal, she inhaled harder, as though she wanted to keep him inside her.

He wouldn't leave her mouth, not until he came. She felt too good. Rage twisted his fingers into her hair. She was made for him, for this, taking a cyborg's cock.

Not any cock. His. He moved quicker, grunting like the animal he was, pressure forming at the base of his spine, between his balls, phantom and real. He would be the last male she pleasured. He'd guard her well, make certain of that.

She swallowed, her mouth convulsing around him, massaging his shaft, and he jerked, the intensity too much. "Joan," he warned. If she did that again, he'd—

She swallowed once more.

"Joan," he bellowed, thrusting hard. Cum spurted from his cock in violent pulses. His little human took all of him, greedily milking him as though he was one of those bovines she always talked about.

His nanocybotics must have hit her stomach. Her lips suddenly vibrated around him in a silent scream, her eyes widening. She shook, the rhythm of her movements matching the energy fluctuations battering his processors.

Throughout her wild release, Joan didn't let go of his cock, sucking madly on his tip. She drained him of everything, all of his rage, all of his thoughts.

That should have left him weak. Instead, he felt strong, invincible, his entire form throbbing with power.

Rage gripped the top of Joan's head and closed his eyes, focusing on the ecstasy she'd given him, the rare bliss in a lifespan of pain. He'd kill to keep this feeling, to have this every planet rotation, the thought of losing it, losing her unfathomable.

Which made no sense. As the energy bursts diminished, his logic came back online. Rage opened his eyes, seeing the situation more clearly. Joan Tull was a simple human female.

She affected him this way because he was a primitive C model and he hadn't had a breeding session for many, many solar cycles. After he'd taken her mouth a few more times, his fascination with her would dissipate. He could dispose of her as he had originally planned.

"That was...that was...wow, sir." She gazed up at him, her cheeks pink, her lips glistening with his cum. "I still feel you inside me." She trembled. "Spreading all over my body." She swept her hands across her succulent breasts. "You're everywhere."

Pleasing him made her happy. He didn't know how to deal with that truth. "Clean me." He pushed his hips forward, needing more of her touch.

"Yes, sir." She reached for the cleaning cloth.

"With your tongue."

"Sorry, sir." She licked his tip with light dainty flicks, poked and prodded his slit, laved his shaft with the flat of her tongue. His ball wasn't neglected. She sucked it into her mouth, rolled it gently.

Rage supervised her efforts silently, enjoying her care, not expecting it to last. She remained human, the enemy. She'd hurt him eventually.

But not this planet rotation. She kissed the specks of cum on his thighs, not wasting a drop. When she was done, she looked to him for approval.

He shouldn't encourage her but he didn't have the heart to say nothing. "Good job, female."

"Thank you, sir." She beamed, her beauty hitting him like a punch to his gut. "You continue to be with me." She rubbed her rounded stomach. "When will your presence fade?"

He frowned. "It should have faded by now." The other females said nothing about his nanocybotics lasting.

She must be on a new line of breeding drugs.

But why would she feign ignorance? And why would she ask him these questions?

"When did you last see a medic?" Could they have put her on drugs without her knowledge? That was something the evil humans would do.

"I saw one ten planet rotations ago, when I took the fertility inhibitor." She maintained a consistent story.

But she would. She was a clever female.

Something wasn't processing. He gazed at her with suspicion.

"I'll see a medic while you're on deployment, sir. Have him run some tests."

"You will _not_ see a medic." No one was touching his female, especially not a medic. They had been responsible for his permanent scars.

She looked at him as though he was being irrational.

And he was. She was destined to die by his hand. He shouldn't care if another being completed that task for him.

But he did care, very much.

"You were attacked once and you barely survived," he reasoned with her. "You were conscious then. If the medic puts you under—"

"I wouldn't live through an attack." Her face paled.

That she feared the entire ship meant someone high up in the command chain was responsible. She'd mentioned Commander Lewis being... what did she call him? A female-hating rectal wipe.

"You'll carry the dagger with you at all times." He'd deal with Commander Lewis during his escape. "And you won't leave our chambers unless it is necessary."

"Our chambers," she repeated.

"Whenever I'm here, you're here. They're our chambers." That was a fact, not a declaration of feelings.

Not that he had feelings for her.

"You'll stay in them," he emphasized that point. No one except her could access the inner door. Not even Boyd could enter their chambers.

"I have to fulfill my duties, sir." Joan lifted her chin. "One of those is to accompany you to the docking bay."

Rage didn't like it but she was right. She was required to walk with him to his ship, to go through that releasing protocol nonsense. "You'll accompany me, then return here and wait."

"I have other duties, sir." Her jaw jutted.

"Joan," he growled.

"If I don't complete them, the Commander will reprimand me, and you'll be assigned another engineer."

Rage stared at her. She stared back. She might submit in other areas but not this one.

Because her life was at stake, he acknowledged. The Commander would reprimand his little female by sending her to fight the Mantidae. She'd be dead before her feet touched the planet.

"I won't take unnecessary risks."

This attempt to reassure him was unsuccessful. She thought a necessary risk was punching a heavily armed human guard.

But Rage had to accept it. He couldn't control her while he was on deployment, although he desperately wanted to. "Retrieve my body armor, stubborn female."

### Chapter Five

Thirteen planet rotations later, Joan remained alive, having dodged several hallway attacks, been bumped into walls, punched, kicked, bruised, but not seriously hurt.

She'd also gained Rage's trust. Some of it. He wouldn't allow her to examine his central processors. The small gaps in footage persisted deployment after deployment. But she'd earned the right to upgrade his mechanics.

She surveyed her work, wanting the improvement to be perfect. Any errors could cause his death and she'd used a nanocybotics suppressor to make them permanent. His body couldn't repair her mistakes. "How does it feel, sir?"

Rage curled his fingers into fists. The action sent energy surging through his arm circuits in a dazzling display of colored light. "I can use my hand again."

"You were only offline temporarily." She examined his arm one last time. "Your motion should be smoother, faster." She closed the access panel. The seam disappeared, blending into his skin. "Can you test it for me, sir?"

Her cyborg completed a couple of arm curls, his biceps bulging. She watched him, fascinated with the play of skin over muscle. His strength made her hot.

Everything he did aroused her.

"It appears to be functioning." He hooked his arm around her waist and lifted her easily off the elevation platform.

"You're powerful," she murmured, her pussy moistening.

"You're tiny."

Only he thought so. Joan was a former agri lot worker with a sturdy, stocky build. She grasped his shoulders. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips aligned with his abs. Her thighs cradled his erection. She'd grown accustomed to her nudity.

Joan would never become used to his touch, the warmth of his hands scorching her, sparking her inner fire. She'd sucked Rage off when he returned from deployment, coming as his essence filled her stomach. His presence remained inside her, never fading, perhaps because they never went a planet rotation without a cum transfer.

She wiggled against his hardness. "Do you wish for me to ease your pain, sir?" That was the excuse she clung to, the reason for touching her cyborg inappropriately.

"I wish to test my fine motor skills, female." He plunked her bare ass on a horizontal support. "Spread your legs."

Joan complied, trembling with anticipation.

"You're wet for your cyborg." He gazed at her pussy, his eyes gleaming with approval.

"Yes, sir." She was always wet for him.

Rage cupped her mons, dipping his fingertips into her juices, and she jerked, the connection between them shocking yet right. He rubbed her slowly, watching her face. She bit back a moan. His scarred coarse hands on her body felt so good.

His gentleness with her contrasted vividly with the images she'd viewed from his deployments. Her cyborg was a finely honed killing machine, dispatching the alien enemy quickly, efficiently.

That didn't bother her. Killing was in his design. She didn't blame a bovine for being a bovine or a predator for being a predator. She wouldn't bemoan his joy of fighting. It was who he was.

He might have been designed to fight and to breed. He hadn't been manufactured to seduce, to woo a female into giving him all of her. Yet that was what he was doing with her, brushing his thumbs over her clit, nuzzling his face against her neck.

She murmured, sharing all the naughty things she wanted them to try and tilted her head to the side, giving him more access to her. Rage took that offered terrain, mouthing along her skin. He smelled good, like machine and male, her male. She slid her palms over his pecs, claiming his body, covering him with her scent, her touch.

He rumbled, pushed two of his large fingers inside her pussy. Yes. She arched her back. That was what she wanted—his erotic invasion. He pumped her, pressing his fingertips along her inner walls, sending waves of bliss over her form.

She licked his chest, his neck, his square chin, telling him with her fingers, lips, words how much she wanted him, how only he could arouse her like that. He tasted of elements-tested metal, of battle-worn warrior, of endurance and survival, and she wanted more of him, all of him. "Rage, sir."

He spread his fingers, stretching her. "Are you ready for me, female?"

"Yes, sir." She'd been ready for planet rotations, wanting, needing this.

Rage searched her face as though doubting her claim. She lifted her chin, met his gaze directly, allowing all of her certainty show.

He nodded, removed his fingers from her pussy, the wet suction loud in the quiet chambers. Without breaking their eyelock, he sucked his skin clean, his enjoyment as open as her desire.

"Turn over," he ordered.

He wished to take her like an animal, like, she suspected, he had taken the females in the breeding program. She didn't want to be an anonymous fuck. "I wish to look at your face, sir, when you breed with me." She wanted that connection with him.

Rage blinked once, twice, as though he was having difficulty processing her request. "Why?"

Had none of the other females wished to look at him? Joan's heart twisted. "Because I serve only you, sir. I wish to have no other cyborg's cock inside me."

"There will be no other cyborgs," he roared, his eyes blazing with emotion. "You're mine."

"I'm yours, sir." She faced his fury without fear, his passion thrilling her.

He huffed.

She waited.

"Open wider for me," her possessive cyborg amended his command.

She obeyed, a small smile curling her lips. He wedged his hips between her thighs. His hard cock nudged her pussy lips, bumped against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her womb.

"Feed me into you."

Joan curled her fingers around his base and guided him into her entrance.

Fuck. He was large, much wider than his fingers. She pulled tightly around him, pain edging her satisfaction. "Sir." She struggled to breathe as he sank deeper and deeper into her.

"You can take me, Joan." Rage gripped her hips and adjusted his angle of entry.

"I can, sir." The use of her name comforted her. She wasn't simply a replaceable female. He knew who she was.

He worked his way into her, forging forward, retreating, forging forward, retreating. The bloom of his cock head applied pressure against her pussy walls. The scar on his shaft added unexpected stimulation, offering a reminder of the warrior she had inside her.

Not that she would forget. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, this fullness unlike anything she'd ever experienced. He changed her body with each foray deeper, forcing her to accommodate him, and she knew she'd never be the same.

Finally her feminine folds pressed against his hairless base and he stopped. "A cyborg's cock is inside you, human." His eyes glittered with triumph, as though he'd scored a victory for his entire species.

He hadn't. "Rage's cock is inside my pussy, sir," she dared to counter. "I wouldn't allow any other cyborg to fuck me." She'd seen the other cyborgs during deployment. None of them interested her sexually. Only he had this effect on her.

"You won't allow _any_ male, cyborg or human or other, to breed with you." He pulled out to his tip and slammed back into her, punishing her for a possibility she'd already rejected.

"No, sir," she gasped, clung tighter to his shoulders. He was possessive, her cyborg, demanding all of her attention.

And she was happy to give it to him. He pistoned in and out of her pussy, his fucking breath-stealingly savage. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rode his ferocity, panting with the effort.

As she learned his tempo, she rose up to meet it, their bodies colliding, heat radiating from the points of contract. He didn't use all of his might, she knew. That would have destroyed her. But he gave her a taste, rutting into her with vigor.

She'd feel him for planet rotations, perhaps forever, her thighs already tender and her pussy lips throbbing. Her nipples slapped against his unrelenting chest, adding a sting of pain.

Under his human-like skin, his frame was metal, not bone. That difference was illustrated with every thrust. There was no give, no illusion of softness. He was all hard male.

Joan loved it, crying "More, more, more" against his neck. He didn't vary his rhythm, refusing to give her what she asked for.

Fuck that. She pressed her heels into his clenched ass cheeks, urging him to move faster.

He grunted, obeying, pulling her onto his shaft as he drove forward.

"Shit. Yes," she cried, bliss radiating from her core. Her pussy juices splattered his hips, oozed over his ball. The scent of her musk hung heavy in the air. Sweat covered her body, slicking his slide.

She thought fucking and breeding were the same thing, the words interchangeable, one used by humans and one by cyborgs but this was unlike any fucking she'd participated in the past. This was an entirely different kind of sex, carnal, primal, brutal.

It was the unapologetic taking of a female by her dominant male, the assertion of his ownership. Rage branded her form with his cock, pounding into her with a focus bordering on obsession. She was as crazed as he was, pushed him to take her even harder, deeper, nipping his pecs, raking her nails over his back.

Her desire spiraled out of control, spinning upward, upward, upward, until fractures formed within her soul. She couldn't hold on. She couldn't—

He snapped his hips forward, swiveled, and she shattered, a million jagged pieces of shrapnel flying from her center. She screamed, bucking against him, clenching her pussy around his shaft.

Rage roared her name, holding her to him, and came hard, his cum propelling out of his tip with a shocking intensity, hitting her pussy walls again and again. Each bombardment brought ecstasy, splitting her brain into smaller fragments, pounding her thoughts into dust.

He thrust once, twice more, and shuddered, his cock pulsing inside her. "Mine." He stroked her back as she shook. "My female."

Joan pressed her cheek against his heaving chest, her parts gradually becoming whole once more. He was responsible for that, she knew. His nanocybotics bubbled and popped, not only within her womb, but everywhere, in her fingertips, her breasts, her brain.

"What just happened, sir?" She turned to him for answers, her lack of control scaring her.

"Breeding." Rage's deep voice settled over her, soothing her battered senses.

"Is it always like this?" That would explain her reaction and ease that worry, but she didn't like the thought of him having experienced that unrestrained passion with other females. Not at all.

"It has never been like this." He sighed, sounding as troubled as she was. "But I've never had a female more than once."

That could be an explanation.

Except she'd been attracted to him the moment she saw, no, smelled him. "I've had males more than once and never felt like this." With her human lovers, the attraction hadn't built. It had faded.

"No talk of other males," Rage growled, his grip on her tightening. "You're mine now. You think and talk only about me."

He was a domineering brute, her cyborg. "Yes, sir." She rubbed her cheek against his chest, wishing to appease him. "Your arm seems to be working well." She focused on the change she understood.

"You did a good job, female." He kissed her forehead.

The rare praise made her glow. "Humans kiss on the lips, sir." He'd never covered her lips with his, not once. "It's a sign of affection."

"I'm not human." He pushed away from her, his cock slipping from her pussy.

Joan shivered, feeling the absence of his warm body and the coldness of his words. "You're a cyborg." She hugged her waist, seeking to comfort herself. "And you plan to breed with me until it's time to kill me."

"I'm a C Model. Breeding and fighting is what we do." He grabbed a cleaning cloth and stared down at his cock. His skin glistened with their combined juices, with the remnants of their breeding.

He didn't clean himself. Instead, he tossed the cleaning cloth to the floor.

He wanted to smell like her. Joan's hurt instantly dissipated. With her cyborg, his actions revealed more than his words. "You're Rage, the fiercest cyborg I've ever met, not a model type. You can do whatever you wish, sir."

He glowered at her.

She smiled demurely back at him. "You control your own future. If you don't wish to fight, then don't fight."

"I enjoy fighting. I'm good at it. And that ability of mine is the only reason the Humanoid Alliance allows me to breathe." He paused. Lines appeared around his grimly set lips. "Is that why you're here?" His anger flowed to open suspicion and Joan stifled a sigh. He didn't fully trust her. Not yet. "Are you trying to incite me to rebel so your fellow humans have a reason to dispose of me?"

She glanced down at the new slivers of scarred skin on his wrists. "No, sir." She suspected he was already planning to escape. "But if you were to rebel, you should know that the Humanoid Alliance has equipped all cyborgs with three tracking devices, not two."

The flicker in his eyes confirmed her guess.

He planned to escape and when he did, she'd be assigned the blame for losing the Humanoid Alliance's top cyborg warrior. She'd be reprimanded, sent to the front lines to die.

That didn't bother Joan. She'd die eventually. She couldn't avoid the hallway attacks forever. And he'd be free. One of them would live.

"There are five tracking devices in every cyborg's ship." She gave him more information. "There are two more deployments and then the battle station is repositioning. Loss of cyborg ships is expected during repositioning. They're slow, weighted down with supplies, easy for the enemy to attack. The Humanoid Alliance might not investigate if your ship didn't return."

"Is this a trick?" His thick eyebrows lowered.

"If it was a trick, would I answer that question truthfully, sir?" She held his gaze.

They stared at each other for several moments. She didn't attempt to disguise anything, not the truth, not the caring she felt for him.

"You're a cunning, scheming female," Rage said with a mixture of pride and exasperation.

"I'm your cunning, scheming female, sir." She jumped off the horizontal support. Her bare feet smacked against the cool tiles. Her curves jiggled, temporarily diverting her cyborg's attention. "I'm here to serve you."

"For what purpose?" He touched his arm, the same one she'd modified.

"Because I want to serve you." She strode to the wall panel. Rage had filled her with more cum than a human male would ejaculate yet none of it dripped down her thighs. All of it stayed inside her. "Because I feel safe when I'm with you. Because I desire you more than I have ever desired any being or anything and serving you gives both of us pleasure." She opened the compartment and gazed at the contents. "Perhaps it is in _my_ design to attend to your needs as it is in your design to give me orders."

"I'm a C Model cyborg. I have a logical design." He moved closer, standing behind her. "You're human. You don't."

That would always be the problem, the barrier between them. Her shoulders slumped. She was human and he'd been hurt by her species too many times. Joan didn't know if they'd ever move past that. "Yes, sir."

"End your chatter." He waved his hands. "Bring me my body armor."

### Chapter Six

_Serving you gives both of us pleasure._ Half a deployment later, Rage couldn't get his little female's words out of his mind. He slid on his back, shooting the Mantidae as he moved, their insect frames exploding into a mess of green shell and red blood.

She felt safe around him. He turned, blasting a big male behind him. He felt her relief when he returned, the tension easing from her curves, the worry fading from her big brown eyes. Although she seldom spoke of it, he was aware that the human males continued to stalk her.

They dared to hunt his female. Rage swerved. A projectile skimmed his reinforced armor. He returned fire, taking out his anger and frustration on the Mantidae.

The species continued to push forward, trying desperately to complete their migration, to reach their breeding grounds. He understood how they felt. He yearned to return to his female, to lose himself in her tight pussy and wet mouth, to reassure himself that she was safe. Every moment he was away put her at risk.

_You plan to breed with me until it's time to kill me._ Was that still true? He moved faster, the enhancements his little engineer had made allowing him to defend his territory quicker. Could he take her life, dim the spark in her eyes?

The last Mantidae warrior fell, permanently parted from his own female, whoever she was, and Rage lumbered toward camp. Crash and Gap were already there. He'd cleared their smaller plots of planet first.

"That was fast." Crash waved a handheld over his nape, pausing the recording mechanism. "Are the Mantidae growing weaker?"

"I'm stronger." He flexed his arms.

"We'll need that strength." The E model cyborg returned to his rebuild of the guidance system. "According to Zip, there's only one more deployment until the battle station repositions. He intercepted a bulletin."

"My female relayed the same timing." Rage sat on a boulder and picked up a gun. Could the rest of her information be correct? He couldn't take the chance that it might be. "She also said there are three tracking devices on each cyborg and five on each ship."

"She's a human," Gap scoffed. "I searched the ship and there were only four."

"Search again," Rage ordered.

"But—"

He leveled a hard glance on the young cyborg.

Gap blew out his breath. "I'll search again." He stomped up the entry ramp.

"You told your female about our plans?" Crash didn't gaze up from the circuits. "You trust her that much?"

"I don't trust her at all." That didn't feel like the truth. "I told her nothing."

"Then how did she know them?" His friend looked toward the ship.

"She doesn't." Though she suspected. Rage had seen the speculation in his clever female's eyes. "It's what she would do." She was a survivor, as he was.

"Should I look for a third tracking device?"

"We'll wait until Gap completes his search." He didn't relish being poked and prodded, not by Crash. While his female had a light hand, spraying injured areas with pain inhibitors, his friend didn't. He doubted the cyborg knew pain inhibitors existed.

If Gap didn't find a fifth tracking device on their ship, there might not be a third device within them. There'd be no reason to search.

They worked in silence. Crash modified the guidance system, ensuring their plotted course wouldn't be reported back to the Humanoid Alliance. Rage pieced together more weapons, the firepower needed during their escape.

"You're calmer since you've been paired with her."

Rage grunted. He was fighting and breeding as he was designed. What was there to be angry about?

"There's no need to kill your female immediately." Crash's voice was soft. "A human hostage might be useful."

If she was his hostage, she could continue to serve him. The thought appealed to him. Too much.

Rage slid his gaze to his friend's downturned face. "She can't come with us. Humans aren't welcome in the Homeland."

"We'll have to dispose of her before we arrive there." Crash dipped his head. "But until then, we could hold her prisoner."

Rage said nothing.

"Having her on board would benefit all of us. I didn't relish being stuck in that small space." He tilted his head toward the ship. "With you for multiple planet rotations. When you're not fighting the enemy, you're nasty."

"Frag you." Rage scowled, recognizing the truth in his friend's words. If he had to go planet rotations without fighting or breeding, he'd hurt some being.

"That's what I'm trying to prevent." Crash flashed a grin. "You need an outlet for your anger, my friend, and I prefer that not be me. If you don't take your female, that leaves the kid and you know how easily he breaks."

He _did_ need an outlet for his anger but to take Joan hostage? That was... He processed it some more. Not the most idiotic idea his friend had ever had. Did it matter if she died in two planet rotations or ten?

It mattered to him. He wasn't ready to kill her. Not yet.

She had to die. He couldn't take her to the Homeland and she already knew too much about cyborgs. She'd put future escapes in jeopardy, stop his brethren from seizing their freedom. He wouldn't allow that.

But she didn't have to die until they reached the planet.

"Gap does break easily," Rage conceded.

"I've found nothing yet." The cyborg in question trudged down the ramp. "I'll search the outside, though that's unlikely." He closed the ramp. "Take off would... fraggin' hole." He stared at the underside of the metal surface. "Yes, make that five tracking devices."

His female hadn't lied about that. Rage was both pleased and irritated, because that meant there might be a third tracking sensor on his body. "You'll have to search me, Crash, but not now." He picked up his favorite gun. "Turn the recording back on. I'll clear the territories first."

He'd vent some of his building anger on the Mantidae, allowing him to better handle the pain.

* * *

He didn't kill enough of them. When Crash sliced him open for the sixteenth time, finding nothing, Rage's circuits threatened to overload.

"I could have sworn I felt something in there." His soon-to-be-dead friend stuck what felt like a burning hot dagger in Rage's right ass cheek and pushed his inner mechanics around.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Ass." He gritted his teeth, the agony excruciating.

"I will. I will." Crash removed the grippers.

His skin pulled together, healing. Not fast enough for Rage's liking. "Don't we have any pain inhibitors?" he grumbled.

"Pain inhibitors." Gap laughed. "That's a good one."

Rage narrowed his eyes at him.

The kid stopped laughing. "Oh, you were serious." Furrows formed on his forehead. "They make those?"

"Let me guess." Crash prodded his lower back. "Your female has been spraying pain inhibitors on your boo boos. You're getting soft, my friend."

"I'm not getting soft." He glowered. "I cleared all three of our territories this deployment." That was a first. Normally even he needed help. "I'd like to see either of you do that."

"How _did_ you do it?" Gap leaned forward. He was obsessed with upping his kill rate. "Do pain inhibitors make you stronger?"

"My female upgraded my mechanics." That didn't explain all of his improvements. It was as though the more nanocybotics he gave Joan, the more he produced.

"I wish I had a female." The young cyborg sighed. "My handler isn't a good human." He shifted on his rock.

"There are no good humans," Rage said that because they expected him to. He didn't know if he still believed it.

"Judging by how content you've been, your little human is _very_ good," Crash murmured. "You lucky bag of bolts."

Rage ignored his friend's comment.

"Do I have to kill my handler quickly?" Gap asked.

He understood the younger cyborg's desire to inflict pain on the human who was torturing him. "The faster we kill everyone, the sooner we escape, the more likely we are to reach the Homeland without being recaptured."

"Oh." Gap slouched.

"We won't get far if we don't find that third tracking device." Crash sliced Rage's left shoulder blade open.

"Fraggin' hole." He grimaced, the pain nearly blinding him. "Do you know how to detect the tracking devices?"

"No." Crash stuck the grippers into his shoulder, pressing it to the left and to the right, ratcheting the torment skyward. "I'm guessing." He sighed. "And I guessed wrong again. Did your female say where the tracking devices were located?"

"Would I tolerate your search if she did?"

Crash removed the grippers, allowing his wound to heal. "I could continue to look or you could ask her." He felt Rage's nape. "She knew there were three. She'd know where they were."

Joan was a clever female. She _would_ know where the tracking devices were. "By asking her, I'm confirming we plan to escape."

"You're confirming _you_ plan to escape."

That was true. He'd only be placing himself at risk. The humans would decommission him...or try to. He wouldn't die quietly and the others would be safe.

"If we don't find it and we move forward with our plans, we could be placing all of us in jeopardy," Crash pushed. "Hundreds of cyborgs could die, cyborgs that are looking toward us to successfully lead this mission. You're our top warrior. They believe in you, in our freedom. Would you let them down?"

Crash knew he wouldn't. Rage's lips twisted. To save the others, he'd have to trust her and ask for her help. Both prospects made Rage uneasy. Because trusting his little female gave her the power to hurt him.

"She's a human." He had to remember that.

"She smells more and more like you," Gap contributed. "Will she become a cyborg if you transfer enough of your nanocybotics to her?"

Rage gazed at him. Was the kid serious? A constant influx of nanocybotics would stop the aging process and extend her life, but they would never change her. "She'll always be human."

"Your little human might be our only hope." Crash stood. "I'll transmit the information about the fifth device on the ships to the others." They communicated on a secure frequency, accessible only by fellow cyborgs. "Warn them there might be a third device on their frames. They might have heard something about where it might be."

The cyborg strode behind the ship, looking for an optimal transmitting location. That would decrease the number of relays needed and lessen the chance of discovery.

Rage donned his armor, wishing his little female were there to assist him. She'd touch him with her gentle hands, gaze up at him with those big brown eyes, treating him as though he was her suns, moons, planets rolled into one.

"Rage?"

"Yes." He braced himself for another idiotic question from the kid.

"I've never seen a female cyborg. Are they soft and round like your female?"

Rage had never seen a female like Joan. Thinking about her breasts and hips made him hard. He adjusted his body armor. "The female cyborgs I've met." Bred with. "Were strong and firm, tougher than many males."

They were fierce, fighting him for dominance, taking his cum and giving as little as possible in return, caring nothing for his pleasure. They wouldn't kneel at his feet, wouldn't call him sir, wouldn't obey his commands.

"Oh." Gap's lips turned downward. "Are there many females?"

"No." The failure of the breeding program eliminated the need for females.

The kid stared straight ahead. Judging by the grim set of his unblemished face, whatever he saw on that war-ravaged horizon wasn't pleasant. "I'll never have a female of my own, will I?"

Rage gazed over his shoulder. Where was Crash? His friend was better with the reassuring words. Rage had no patience for it.

The kid sighed, the sound pitiful.

Fraggin' hole. "Stand tall, warrior," he said gruffly. "You're young and handsome." Rage slapped the cyborg's shoulder, shaking his slighter frame. "Many females prefer that in a male." Not his female. He lifted his gun. She desired him, a big, scarred, battle-worn male. "Didn't you once say you'd never be free of the Humanoid Alliance?"

"Yes." Gap's head lifted.

"And yet, this repositioning, we'll make our escape." Rage tossed the handheld to Gap. The kid caught it. "Never say never."

He waited.

The kid didn't move.

"Restart the recording," he barked, his patience frayed.

Gap jumped to do his bidding.

Rage scowled. Would he find another female, a cyborg female, like Joan? Or would he also spend the rest of his lifespan alone, never to breed again?

Because he'd rather not breed than go without the sweet submission and tenderness she'd shown him.

Blasted Gap, putting those ideas in his processor. Rage rushed toward the encroaching Mantidae forces, seeking to lose himself in the fight.

### Chapter Seven

Joan crept into the meeting chamber. Heads turned. Voices buzzed, phrases such as 'cyborg slut' and 'stupid female' repeated.

She slipped her hand in the pocket of her flight suit and touched cool metal. Rage's dagger was there. She wasn't without protection.

Joan claimed a seat on the perimeter, giving herself a path to escape should that become necessary. She'd received the bulletin moments ago. Commander Lewis wished to speak to all of the off-duty cybernetic engineers.

It could be about the repositioning, but the gurgling in her stomach told her otherwise. Had the Mantidae taken the planet? Was Rage dead?

"You're fidgeting, Tits." Plank sat behind her, his buddies filling the seats around him. "Did your cyborg give your ass a workout last night?"

Denny, her friend, looked away, his expression grim. The other engineers sniggered. One of them yanked on her hair, the pain bitterly sharp.

The comments continued, the males becoming more and more vulgar. Joan ignored them. If she didn't respond, they'd eventually become bored and leave her alone.

That was what had happened at the academy. The first two solar cycles were torture. By the end of the fourth solar cycle, she'd earned some respect, gained some support.

Not from every being. Plank had been a rectal wipe on planet rotation one and continued to be one now.

Commander Lewis strode into the chambers, his boots ringing on the floor. They jumped to their feet. "Sir." They saluted him.

"At ease, Engineers." His smug expression troubled Joan. That was his I'm-about-to-hurt-some-being look.

She didn't have to wait for pain. Plank punched her between the shoulder blades as they sat. Shit. She winced. That hurt.

"This information will be broadcast in a bulletin after repositioning, but let me be the first to congratulate you." Commander Lewis' smile held no goodwill. "In twenty planet rotations, you will be responsible for a fleet of K model cyborgs, the best and the newest the Humanoid Alliance has to offer."

A wave of excitement swept over the audience. The K models were top-of-the-line. Any engineer would be thrilled to be paired with one.

Any engineer other than her. Joan only wanted to be paired with Rage. She raised her hand to ask the first question, dreading the answer.

"Cadet Tull?" The Commander's eyes gleamed.

"What will happen to our current cyborgs, sir?" She was proud of how steady her voice was.

"They will be decommissioned." He confirmed Joan's suspicions and the room swayed under her feet. Rage, his friends, all of the cyborgs would be killed. "We'll take them apart, using every circuit we can." The Commander leaned forward. "This is war. We can't afford to waste any mechanics." His gaze lifted. "Cadet Plank?"

"Sir, will they be terminated before they're taken apart?"

"They'll be given a prolonger so we can verify that the mechanics are operational. It makes no sense to keep parts that don't work." Commander Lewis' gaze returned to Joan. "To answer what I'm sure will be the next question, we won't waste valuable pain inhibitors on the decommissioned cyborgs. They're machines."

"They're half human, sir." Joan couldn't remain silent. "They're living beings who fought for the Humanoid Alliance, risking their lives to save ours."

She looked around the chambers, seeking support. She found none. The other engineers glared at her.

"Surely they deserve to be treated with more dignity," she pleaded.

"They don't _deserve_ anything, Cadet Tull." Commander Lewis' face hardened. "They were manufactured to fight. They served their purpose. Now, they will be decommissioned."

Now, they'll be tortured before they're killed. She felt faint. As a reward for their service, the cyborgs will be scrapped for parts, artificially kept alive while they're dissected. They'll see their bodies carved into pieces, feel every cut, every wound, their dying extended.

"Better use his cock while you can, Tits." Plunk slapped her shoulder hard.

Joan suppressed the urge to slap him back. She had to respond intelligently, not emotionally. She might not be able to save all of the cyborgs from this fate but perhaps she could save Rage. She raised her hand.

"What is it now, Cadet Tull?" The Commander didn't hide his irritation.

"She's going to cry about her precious machines," Plank sneered. "This sensitivity shit is why females don't belong on a battle station." That line sounded like something the Commander would say.

The other engineers laughed.

They were all clones of their leader, cruel and uncaring. It made Joan sick to her stomach and a bit desperate. She had to protect her cyborg.

"I haven't cried since I was eleven solar cycles." Though she felt like crying now. "C899321 holds the number one position for enemy kills. Surely the Humanoid Alliance wouldn't decommission such a valuable asset?"

"You're correct. C899321 won't be treated like the other cyborgs," Commander Lewis conceded.

Thank the stars. Joan's shoulders lowered.

"The Central Archives has requested his shoulders and head for display in their war equipment collection."

They requested his head and shoulders only. Tour guides would parade children in front of her cyborg, talk about him as though he was merely a weapon to be used. Bile rose in her throat.

"The Academy, the same one you attended, has asked for the rest of his frame, for study."

They told her the cyborgs they studied had been slain in battle. Joan gripped the edge of her chair, remembering the frames she'd examined. Had they all been decommissioned, tortured and killed by the humans they fought for?

And she'd poked and prodded at them, disrespecting them even more.

Rage was right. She _was_ like the others.

Engineers asked questions, inquiring about whether or not they'd receive promotions, an increase in daily credits, if they could be present to view the decommissioning, the slaughter of the cyborgs they were paired with.

Joan pushed away her horror, and focused on the situation. This was war, as the Commander bluntly stated. She didn't have the time or resources to dwell on her mistakes. She had to move forward, devise a plan to ensure Rage survived, that he didn't end up dead in some macabre exhibit. He was _her_ responsibility. Her first loyalty was to him. If she saved other cyborgs while saving her male, then that was a bonus.

The engineers filed out of the chambers, in high spirits. Joan exited between two large groups, hoping the sheer number of beings would discourage an attack. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, wrapped her fingers around the handle of the dagger, ready to defend herself.

"Joan, wait up." Denny jogged behind her.

She gazed at the group in front of her. A widening gap would put her in danger. But the last time Denny spoke to her, he passed along a warning. She was alone, except for Rage. She needed any help she could get.

She slowed her pace, allowing him to catch up to her. They walked in silence. What did he want?

"They're going to kill your cyborg." She was the first to speak. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"They're machines and they're no longer needed." He sighed. "You've always had a romantic view of them. That's not reality." Beings passed them. "Tell me it isn't true what they saying about you. You didn't have sex with your cyborg."

"I care for him." She wouldn't lie to her friend.

"It's not alive." Denny didn't hide his disgust. "It won't ever care for you."

Rage cared. She was certain of that. " _He_ 's a living being, half human." Why did no one remember that? "Haven't you watched the footage, seen how the cyborgs interact when they're not following our orders?"

"No one watches the footage, just as no one reads our field reports." Denny grasped her wrist, pulled her closer to the wall. "Do you know what you've done, Joan, by taking this pairing?" More beings walked by them. "You're the first female in the department and they want you to be the last."

He maneuvered her into a shadowed alcove. Fingers of fear crept up her spine. She pushed the emotion away. This was Denny, her friend. He wouldn't hurt her.

"They'll make an example of you so no other female joins." His freckled face was flushed, his green eyes slightly unfocused.

"As they tried to make an example of me at the Academy?" Joan lifted her chin. She'd been terrorized there too and she'd survived.

"This isn't the Academy." Denny's forehead furrowed with concern. "There's no governing body, formed of males and females. No one will launch an investigation if you go missing."

No one would have launched an investigation at the Academy either. Joan had always been alone, a number easily erased from the Humanoid Alliance's databases. "They don't plan to abscond with me. They plan to kill me, Denny, and I'm not frightened of dying." She knew her time was running out.

"You always were fearless." His words were weighted with sadness. "In the past, I admired that about you. You came to my defense more than once."

"Only when the odds were against you." Joan smiled. "When it was one-on-one, I let you fight your own battles 'cause I knew you could win."

"You believed in me."

"Yes." She saw glimpses of the boy she once knew in his countenance. "And I believe in you now. You'll do the right thing."

They gazed at each other. Joan didn't speak, allowing him the quiet he needed to come to the morally correct decision, to agree to help her save the cyborgs.

"There are worst things than dying." He clasped both of her wrists.

"There are." She nodded. "Like getting dissected while you remain conscious. That will be our cyborgs' fates if we don't stop it."

Denny blew out his breath. "They have no consciousness, Joan. They're not alive."

"You say that but you know it isn't true. They feel pain. They care for each other. They—"

"They got you killed." Her friend's grip on her wrists intensified. "You're dead, Joan. You simply don't know it yet." He pushed her, smacking her back against the metal wall panel.

She realized then that the hallway was empty. "Denny—"

"You told me to do the right thing." He stepped closer to her. "They plan to torture you in all of the ways males can torture a female and they'll force me to join in." He slid his hands up her arms, around her shoulders. "You won't be allowed to die until there's nothing left of you."

They'd violate her, hurt her as they hurt Rage. "You won't stand back and let that happen. I'm your friend."

"You are my friend." Denny circled her neck with his fingers. "Which is why I'm doing this."

That sounded ominous but there was no reason to worry, Joan told herself. This wasn't Plank. This was her former academy mate, a man who would never harm her. Fear licked at her, threatening to overcome these rational thoughts.

"This is a kindness, Joan." Denny tightened his grip and she opened her mouth, unable to breathe. "You'll die quickly, painlessly."

_That_ was his solution—to kill her? Fuck that. Dying now wasn't an option. Others depended on her. She had to break his grip, help Rage.

Joan clawed at Denny's hands. He was crushing her, strangling her. She writhed, trapped against the wall, unable to gain the leverage she needed.

Her former friend turned his head away, the rectal wipe unable to watch his actions.

Think, Joan. Think.

_The dagger._ She fought her natural instinct to protect herself, forced herself to let go of his hands, reached into her pocket, and extracted the weapon. A black funnel circled her field of vision, narrowing, narrowing.

"Yes, accept this." Denny leaned into her. "Go quietly."

If he believed she'd go quietly, he didn't know her. Joan raised the dagger. Using all of the strength in her sturdy build, she drove the blade into his right thigh.

"Fuck." He shrieked louder than any female, bent over and grabbed his leg.

Released, Joan gulped mouthfuls of precious air. The black funnel receded.

She pelted down the hallway, not looking back. Only one thought filled her mind—to escape. She pumped her arms, her lungs and muscles straining.

Was she being followed? She didn't know. Her head spun from lack of oxygen.

Joan headed straight to Rage's chambers, smacked the control panel with her sweaty palms, sprinted inside the first door, smacked the second control panel, ran to the far side of her cyborg's sanctuary, searching for more weapons.

Only when the inner door closed did she relax. Fuck. She folded in two, every breath of air a gift. She'd almost died, killed by a male she'd thought was her friend. Joan rubbed her neck. Rage's nanocybotics bubbled against her skin, soothing the burn.

She yearned to curl up on a horizontal support and rest. If she slept, she wouldn't think about the betrayal, the lingering pain.

She didn't have that luxury.

Time was running out for her and for her cyborg. Denny warned of an upcoming attack on her, a violent assault led by a mysterious _they_ , a number of beings wishing her dead. She wouldn't survive that.

When she died, Rage would be paired with another engineer, someone less sympathetic to his situation. He wouldn't get the help he needed, wouldn't be relayed the information that might make the difference in his run for freedom. That could cost him his life.

Rage had to escape during the upcoming repositioning. The Humanoid Alliance planned to decommission him in twenty planet rotations. He might not have another opportunity.

She could assist him... _if_ he listened to her.

Would he?

Her cyborg had doubted the intelligence she'd given him about the tracking devices. When she tried to share more insights, he wouldn't listen, telling her to end her chatter.

Rage might not give her the opportunity to speak, might discard any knowledge she gave him. Joan chewed on her bottom lip. There had to be a solution. He couldn't sever the Humanoid Alliance's control on his own.

He wasn't on his own though, was he? His friends, Crash and Gap, were escaping with him. She retrieved an old recording device loaded with a memory chip. Crash wasn't the primitive C Model she'd been paired with. He was a more modern, rational E Model and appeared to be more open to suggestions. He might investigate her insights before discarding them.

Or he might not. But any effort was better than none.

She started the recording, her voice hoarse. "Crash, sir, I'm Cadet Joan Tull, Rage's cybernetic engineer. You don't know me and I don't expect you to blindly accept what I'm about to tell you but I hope you will, at the very least, listen to what I have to say."

She took a deep breath. "Because I care for your friend. Very much." That sounded inadequate for the depth of her feelings but she couldn't, wouldn't admit to more. "I want Rage to be safe, free, happy. If that's possible for him." She smiled. "He can be very grim at times."

She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I'll relay to you everything I know to be true, the knowledge I've gained at the academy and during my time on board the battle station. In return, I ask you for two things. One, you can use the information to help other cyborgs but not if this places Rage at risk. His security is my first concern. If he dies." Her voice cracked. "My sacrifices will be for nothing, my life meaningless."

She breathed in, breathed out, trying to calm down. Her throat no longer pained her. That was Rage's gift to her. This information would be her present for him.

"Two, I have a message I'll leave Rage at the end of this recording. Give that to him once he's out of danger, not before then." She didn't want him to feel guilty, to try to return to her. "I'm trusting you, trusting in your honor as a cyborg and a warrior, to uphold your end of the bargain."

Joan collected her personal viewscreen and transferred images onto the recording. "There are some modifications you'll have to perform to your ship to ensure it survives a long trip. Forgive me if I tell you things you already know. I haven't been briefed on your preparations." Rage had told her nothing.

She'd tell him everything.

### Chapter Eight

Rage was glad to be back on the battle station.

If a cyborg had told him a solar cycle ago that he'd feel that way, he would have told him to frag off. He had hated returning to his chambers then, dreaded seeing his human handler, knowing he'd have to contain his anger, meekly tolerate whatever torture the male had devised for him.

With Joan, there was no torture and no need to hide his emotions. She accepted him, sweetly served him. Simply the thought of seeing her again, of feeling her soft hands on his chest, made energy rush through his circuits.

He couldn't show his eagerness. Aware of Boyd's gun pushed into his back and the other human males watching him, Rage forced himself to slow his steps. If they knew how he felt about his female, they'd kill her, simply to torment him.

Humans. No, he amended his thought. Human _males_ were sick beings.

"Tell Tits that she's about to get what's coming to her." Boyd placed his palm on the chamber's sensor, the exterior door slid open, and Rage stepped inside. "She's going to wish she'd been a lot nicer to me." The door closed.

His female waited for him, clad in her flight suit, her hands clenched before her. She tilted her head back. Their gazes met and held, her brown eyes wide with relief, with a caring he was growing to believe in.

"Rage." She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you're safe, sir." Joan pressed her cheek against his body armor.

He hesitated for a moment, surprised by her enthusiastic reception. Then he returned her embrace, holding her to him. She was his. Rage breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, a combination of her musk and his nanocybotics.

Fraggin' hole. He sniffed the air a second time. He detected the ugly aroma of a human male.

"You were attacked again." Rage sank his fingers into her brown curls, releasing more of the scent. It belonged to Olsen, Intrepid's handler. He added that male to his long list of beings to kill.

She said nothing, his normally talkative female's silence unnerving him.

The attack must have been vicious this time. Rage brushed her hair to the side. Bruises colored the delicate skin around her neck. His vision system turned red, fury rising within him. "He tried to strangle you."

The males attacked while he was on deployment, when he couldn't protect her. They were cowards, weak, undeserving of life.

"Don't concern yourself with me, sir." Joan turned, authorized the inner door to open. "Worry about yourself." She pulled him into the chambers. "You have to escape during the next deployment. You—"

"I have to do this." Rage scooped her into his arms and covered her ever-moving lips with his. She gasped, surprised by his attack, and he pushed his tongue between her tiny blunt teeth, invading her mouth, claiming the terrain as his own. His female tasted intoxicatingly sweet, her flavor making his head spin and his breath shorten.

She murmured a half-hearted protest, continuing to worry about him, a C Model cyborg, her fingers splaying over his chest plate. Rage ignored her concerns and explored the wet, hot caverns of her mouth, learning his little engineer, imprinting her on his processors.

Before going on deployment, she'd asked him to kiss her. Not wishing to show more weakness, confused by the feelings swirling within him, he'd refused.

He'd almost lost her. He would have never known this pleasure.

Rage pressed his lips firmer against hers. Joan moaned and sucked on his tongue, tugging at his flesh, drawing him deeper. Her gentle fingers framed his face, capturing him as though she was afraid he'd escape. He'd escape the battle station and the Humanoid Alliance but not her, never her.

Rage knew in that instance that he would never let her go. She'd be his hostage, his shipboard slave, his payment for solar cycles of killing. Above all, she was his. She belonged to him. He set her overdressed ass on a horizontal support, ripped her flight suit open, tearing fabric.

Her breath hitched, the sound swallowed by his throat, and her nipples tightened against his palms, small points of hardness in a overflowing bounty of smooth, supple curves. As he pulsed his tongue into her mouth, he kneaded her breasts, cupping, lifting, squeezing.

His little female wasn't silent. She never was. She mewled and murmured against his lips, caressing the planes of his face, the bluntness of his chin. His lips curled upward. He would never again have a quiet planet rotation in his lifespan.

In his lifespan. Rage caught her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled.

How could he keep her for that long? Humans weren't allowed in the cyborg Homeland. He wouldn't let her go, the thought of being without her unbearable. Killing her was no longer an option.

Rage had no answers. Pushing aside the dilemma, he concentrated on her, on now. He bent his head and licked the bruises around Joan's neck, applying more healing nanocybotics to her wound.

"You kissed me." She touched her lips. "Does this mean you care for me?"

"It's the only way I can stop your chatter." He tugged at her flight suit, not wishing his too observant female to see the truth in his eyes, to realize the control she now had over him. "Remove this." He yanked on the fabric. "I wish to breed with you."

"Yes, sir." She unfastened her boots, stripped away the remains of her garment.

He discarded his leg and arm coverings, tossing them on the floor. "You will clean up this mess later." That would keep her busy hands occupied.

"I could clean—" Her mouth dropped open as he removed his body armor. "Sir." She hopped off the horizontal support, her bare feet smacking against the tile, her large breasts jiggling, distracting him. "What did you do to yourself?" She touched the sliver of new skin over his right pec.

"Get back on the horizontal support, female." He stroked his hard cock, wanting to bury himself inside her, not chatter.

"Were you looking for the third tracking device?" She skimmed her fingertips over another one of Crash's failed searches. "I'm sorry, sir." Her head lowered. "I should have told you where it was. I—"

"Turn around." Rage spun her until she faced away from him. "And stick that ass in the air." He pushed on her upper back, forcing her to bend over.

She gripped the edge of the horizontal support. "Sir—"

"Spread your legs for your cyborg." He placed his feet between hers, widening her stance. She tilted her ass upward, giving him a clear view of her pink pussy lips. Her juices glistened on her flesh. His curvaceous female wanted him, a cyborg. That never failed to excite him.

He pumped his cock as he gazed at her. Joan was pale skin, brown hair, not a sharp angle on her lush form. She waved her plump ass, her girth enough to satisfy even a C Model like himself.

"Rage, sir." She gazed over her shoulder, the need in her eyes almost bringing him to his knees.

Rage drifted his fingers over her ass cheeks, around the dimples in her skin, relishing the feel, sight, smell of her. "I haven't seen anything so beautiful in all of my solar cycles of existing." He slid his hands in the valley between her curves. "What are you doing to me, Joan?"

"I'm serving you, sir." Her voice grew husky.

He toyed with her puckered hole. "I've heard that some human females like a male's cock in their asses." He didn't understand it. When the humans abused him there, the pain was excruciating. "Have you ever taken a cock here?"

"No, sir." She trembled. "But if it would give you pleasure, I-I will try." He heard the fear in her offer.

His brave little engineer trusted him, put her safety in his rough hands, and he wouldn't abuse that trust. "It wouldn't give me pleasure to hurt you, female." He continued downward, dipping his fingertips into her wetness. "I'm a cyborg, not one of your cruel humans."

Rage caressed her pussy, feathering her intimate folds, the delicateness of her humbling him. She was a being of contrasts, her spirit strong, her form yielding, and she fascinated him. He rubbed his chin against her shoulders as he played, branding her with more of his scent.

"Hmmm..." She arched her back, squirming under him. "I'll miss this, sir. I'll miss you."

"No, you won't." She talked as though she was leaving him and he didn't like that. "You're mine. I'm keeping you."

"But—"

"No buts." Rage rammed two of his fingers into her pussy and she squeaked. He smiled smugly. That should shut her up.

He ravished her again and again, not allowing her an opportunity to draw a deep breath, to speak. Her juices ran down his hand, staining his skin with her musk, with her heat. Intent on driving her as mad as she drove him, he brushed her clit with his thumb, spread his fingers inside her.

"Yes. Good. Oh. Yes," she babbled nonsense, pushing back on him. "Rage, more." He added a finger. "Oh. Oh. Yes. So good."

It did feel good. Rage gave her four more hard pumps and then removed his fingers.

"No. No. Please."

He ignored her protests, sucking her juices off his skin. "You're fertile, female." That made no sense. How could she, a human female, be at the height of fertility for fifteen consecutive planet rotations?

It didn't matter. Rage pushed his concerns away. They wouldn't create offspring. He'd never have more than this female bent over before him, her ass presented to him like a gift from the designer.

She was more than enough for him, more than he'd ever dreamed he'd have. He prodded her pussy with his cock head, finding her tight entrance. Heat radiated from her. Rage slowly entered his female, delighting in the squeeze of her inner walls around his tip.

Joan muttered words of encouragement, her voice flowing over him, an endless wave of sound he could lose himself in. He gripped her hips and slid deeper and deeper, his female encompassing him, an emotional layer of protection from the hurtful worlds as effective as any body armor.

His base touched her pussy lips, the pinch against his ball exquisite. Rage closed his eyes, remained still, and simply was, committing every nuance to his memories, both organic and mechanic, this dual capture ensuring he'd never forget.

His female massaged him with her pussy, gently closing around his shaft and then releasing, closing and then releasing. Frag. She was gifted. Sweat beaded on his forehead, each intimate caress stripping more of his control.

Which was dangerous. He was a primitive C Model cyborg. Restraint wasn't hardwired into his design.

Seeking to reestablish his dominance over her, he rocked, pushing in and out of her pussy, even this leisurely breeding swaying her body. Joan moved with him, whispering her approval, her encouragement escalating his enjoyment. She wanted this, wanted him.

Rage layered his body over hers, sliding his skin along hers. He was much larger than his little female, covering her completely. Her head rested in the center of his chest, her curly out of control hair pillowing his abs.

Her pussy constricted around his cock and he gritted his teeth, struggling to contain his response, his body wishing to come, to spill its seed.

It took several moments before he could speak. "You like being captured by your cyborg."

"Yes, sir." Her voice was muffled. "I feel safe, protected."

"You are." He kissed the top of her head, increasing his pace. "No one will hurt you, little engineer." Not while he was with her.

Rage bred with her harder, faster, smacking his hips against her ass, giving her an erotic demonstration of his strength. The horizontal support rocked, threatened to fall over. He clasped the far edge, securing it.

Joan panted, her sentences becoming shorter, her words making less sense. With his female, he always knew what she thought, what she was feeling, her emotions reflected in her verbal barrage.

Rage liked that. There was no guessing. When she was happy, he knew it. When she wasn't, he knew that too. He could take action, please her.

"Harder." She moved backward, into his thrusts.

He obeyed her command, snapping his hips forward, grunting. His power was subconsciously tempered. Although Rage was lost in a passion-filled haze, his machine held his actions in check, both sides of him devoted to Joan, to her safety, her bliss.

"Yes, yes." She quivered, repeating this over and over.

That wasn't the word he wanted to hear on her lips. "Rage." He drove into her, his ball smacking against her skin. "Call my name, female. Tell the worlds who is breeding with you."

"Rage." She sweetly complied, his name a breathy plea. "Rage. Rage."

"Louder." He matched his rhythm to her cries. She was his focus, his everything. Her fingers curled on the sleeping support. Her inner walls closed around him.

The tightness, the heat of her pussy was too much, too good. "Joan." He thrust deep and ground against her. She screamed his name, clenched around his shaft and he bellowed, pouring all of himself into her, filling her with his seed.

She reared back, slapping her spine against his chest, and dropped. He hooked one of his arms around her, not allowing her to fall. His little female fought him, writhing like a wild thing. He held her easily, drove into her one, two more times, and then became still.

Fraggin' hell. She destroyed him. Every time he bred with her.

"Rage." Her voice was hoarse.

"Easy, female." He lifted her onto the horizontal support, climbed onto the surface with her and folded her form into his. She felt right there, as though she was made for him.

"You have to leave." Joan returned to her previous worries. "They plan to decommission you. Do you know what that means?"

He grunted, knowing exactly what that meant. His previous handlers would gleefully tell him about the cyborgs previously decommissioned, friends, comrades, sliced into pieces while remaining conscious.

"They'll kill you." She shuddered. "In the most painful way possible. I can survive anything, but not your death." She wrapped his arms tighter around her, using him as a covering. "Promise me you'll escape during this repositioning."

That promise would result in his death if she betrayed him. Rage burrowed his face into her hair, inhaling her tantalizing fragrance. He needed her help to find the third tracking device. Taking her with him would be easier if she knew about his plans.

But more than that, he wanted to trust her. He wanted to believe she wasn't like the other humans he knew. He wanted her to truly be his, in all ways.

Rage linked his fingers with Joan's. "I _will_ escape during this repositioning."

"Thank the stars."

He relaxed. The tension easing from her body couldn't be feigned. She was genuinely relieved, sincerely wanted him to escape, be free.

"I'll do what I can to help you, tell you everything I know." She wiggled against him, brushing her ass against his cock, reawakening his need for her. "I created a recording for Crash. He can be trusted, right?" She glanced over her shoulder.

She was as paranoid as he was. He gazed at her with a mixture of approval and arousal. "I trust Crash and Gap with my life."

"Good because you'll need them." She nodded. "You can't do this alone."

He was no longer alone. He had her.

Rage listened to her disjointed plotting, not saying anything about his own. He wouldn't put her in more danger than she was already in, wouldn't share all of his plans with her until after he returned from the next deployment. Joan was a terrible liar, her concerns written over her gorgeous face, and he wouldn't give the human males another reason to attack her, to torture her to find out what he would do.

He pulled her closer to him. He'd keep her safe.

### Chapter Nine

Rage trusted her.

He admitted he planned to escape. Warmth blossomed in Joan's chest. They were now working together, as a couple, to ensure he was successful.

He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, standing with his back to her, impatiently waiting for her to remove the third tracking device. She sprayed his gray skin liberally with the pain inhibitor, ensuring he felt nothing.

"Did Crash, at least, use pain inhibitors on you before he searched?"

Rage grunted, which she interpreted as a no. The pain he suffered, the stripes of new skin over his body were her fault. She didn't tell him where the device was, wanting him to ask her for help, not knowing he'd try to find it himself. She'd put her needs before his and he'd paid the price.

That wouldn't happen again. She pinched the skin between his shoulder blades. "Can you feel that, sir?"

He gave another grunt.

Rage wasn't the most vocal being but that was okay. She understood him. Joan counted down the vertebrate from his skull. "It's positioned over the twelfth vertebrate, sir. I mentioned that on my message to Crash."

"You shouldn't be leaving messages for Crash." His deep voice rolled over her. "You're my female."

He was a possessive bastard. "I left the message for your benefit." She raised the laser scalpel, her hands shaking. This had to be done. She had to hurt him to free him. "Remain still, sir."

She made the smallest incision possible. His rich red blood seeped from the wound, making her light-headed. She wiped the area with a cleaning cloth, swapped the laser scalpel for the grippers, and carefully entered his body, navigating between two metal plates.

"Don't yank the device out." She located the release. "There's a button on one end. Press it and the device will separate from your bone with no damage." She extracted it. "See?" She showed it to him.

His brilliant blue eyes gleamed. "Very good, female." The cut pulled together, sealed with a layer of new skin.

She pressed her lips against the healing wound.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I'm kissing it better." She beamed. "As I did with your wrists."

"I saw no significant improvement."

"Noted, sir." Joan laughed. For all of his grumbling, he enjoyed being fussed over. "I'm taping your tracking device in place."

She cleaned the tiny machine, gingerly set it over the rapidly healing wound, and sealed it with medical tape. Although there was a lump, the tape blended with his skin. From a distance, no one would detect the modification.

No one, except for herself, should see his naked body before he left on deployment. The medical tape was a precaution. She wasn't taking any chances with her cyborg's safety.

Joan moved the elevation platform around Rage's big body. He had to leave her. There was no other choice. She skimmed her fingertips over his defined chest, unable to resist touching him, knowing their time together was limited.

"This is the memory chip for Crash." She pressed the electronics against his left pec, over his cyborg heart. "It contains everything I could recall, any intelligence I thought might be useful to you." She covered it with medical tape also.

Her fingers flattened over the spot. The triple beat of his heart thumped against her palm. "I won't ask you where you're going, sir." She didn't want that information, worrying that if she was interrogated, she might divulge his secrets. "I know there will be fighting." Her lips curled upward. "You're happiest in battle."

Rage opened his mouth as though to protest, then closed it once more.

She'd watched the recordings. He thrived in the combat zone. "But they will be battles you believe in, causes that you're passionate about." She petted his pecs, his abs, and his muscles rippled under her palms. "You'll find a female who serves you as well as I do." She blinked back her shameful tears, sadness welling within her. "How could she not serve you? You're magnificent." And she was fortunate to know him.

"You're my female." His voice was gruff. "I only have one cock. I don't need any being other than you."

"I—"

"Kneel."

Joan sank to the floor, obeying him, and looked up at his blunt, scarred countenance. He gazed down at her, pride gleaming in his eyes.

When he didn't return, she'd die. Either the other engineers would launch that unified attack Denny warned her about or Commander Lewis would reprimand her for losing her cyborg, send her to the front lines to be slaughtered by the Mantidae.

All she had was this moment.

They stared at each other, a lifespan of meaning flowing between them. He cared for her and she cared for him, more than she'd ever cared for another being. They didn't have to say the words. Their emotions filled the air, heavy, poignant, real.

Rage reached out, traced the curve of her cheek, outlining her lips with his fingertips, his touch gentle, almost loving. Her eyelashes fluttered. He learned her face, smoothing her eyebrows, brushing back her curls.

It was a sweet unexpected gesture from her rough warrior cyborg, one she'd hold in her heart forever.

"You'll stay in our chambers while I'm gone."

She didn't answer. That was one order she couldn't obey. He was never returning and she couldn't do everything she could to ensure his escape was a success from their chambers.

"Joan," he growled.

Would it give him peace to believe her safe in their chambers? "I'll leave our chambers only when it is necessary, sir." She wouldn't lie to him.

He narrowed his eyes, his black eyebrows lowering, accentuating the primitiveness of his countenance. "You won't take foolish risks."

"I won't, sir." That, she could assure him. The longer she stayed alive, the more help she could give him.

"You're a survivor."

"You are too, sir." She smiled up at him. In this way, they were the same. "Should I bring you your armor?"

"Not now." Rage didn't look away from her, continuing to touch her face.

They neared the time for deployment. Her cyborg didn't like delays. Yet, this planet rotation, he wasn't concerned.

Because this would be the last time they spent together and he didn't want it to end. Her heart warmed.

Joan remained still, kneeling before him. Cyborg and human, warrior and engineer, male and female, different yet one. Their breaths were in sync, their gazes locked.

"You're silent, female."

"I can't express what I'm feeling, sir." Her voice was hoarse.

"That's a first." His lips curled into a rare smile and her breath hitched. "Bring me my armor. Quickly."

She jumped to her feet, legs aching, and rushed to the wall panel. He followed, lessening the distance she'd have to heave the heavy body armor.

As she dressed him, she babbled, spewing the nonsense he often accused her of sharing, seeking to calm her nerves, control her sadness, fill the quiet. Rage answered her questions with grunts and short sentences.

He filled his sheaths with weapons, slung long guns over his shoulders.

"Shouldn't you take all of them, sir?" She gazed at the daggers and guns remaining in the wall panel.

"That would arouse suspicion." He adjusted one of the straps. "I carry what I normally carry and that's all."

That was smart. She nodded. "Then may I use one or two of your daggers?" He wouldn't need them.

"Did you lose yours?" He selected two, handed them to her.

She clasped them, the metal cool against her palms. "I used my dagger this planet rotation and was unable to retrieve it."

"Because he lived." Rage shook his head. "Strike to kill, female. A wounded enemy always seeks revenge."

She'd been lucky to escape with her life. Joan dipped her head.

"Dress," he commanded.

She obeyed, quickly donning her flight suit, placing the daggers in the pockets. He plucked at her lapels, straightening them. He'd never helped her dress in the past. It was as though he couldn't stop himself from touching her.

That lightened Joan's spirits. She slipped her feet into her boots, fastened them.

Rage turned his head. "That human male is here." He had less respect for Boyd than she did.

Their time together was over. "Sir." She stepped toward him, pressing her curves into his armor-covered muscle. "Could you kiss me one last time?" She was too short to reach his mouth and the elevation platform was too far away to use.

"One more time," he corrected, his eyes flashing with heated emotion, his face hardening. "Your kisses are mine and mine alone, Joan." He swooped down to capture her lips. The force of his embrace drove her head back. He cradled her skull, holding her in place.

Joan plunged her tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste him. He countered, pushing her backward, taking control, whipping her with his tongue, punishing her. She submitted to his aggression, allowing herself to be disciplined, her lips humming, her arousal building.

She wanted him again, always, and she didn't know how she'd live without him. _If_ she would live. She doubted she'd survive for long after his escape.

Joan clung to Rage's shoulders. He straightened, lifting her off the floor. Her feet dangled. Her breasts were flattened against his chest. Her mouth was filled with his nanocybotics, with his unique flavor.

"Fraggin' hole." He pulled his head back. "You'll get us both decommissioned, female." He slid her down, over his hard form, until her boots touched the floor. "You will act as normally as possible." He ran his palms over her hair. "We can't arouse suspicion."

She touched her lips, still feeling him inside her. "Yes, sir."

The look Rage gave her said he didn't believe her. "Go." He turned her, slapped her ass. A sexy heat radiated from the point of impact. "He waits."

Joan marched toward the inner door, placed her hand on the access panel. The metal slid apart, revealing Boyd's smirking face. She swallowed her disgust, stepped forward. "Boyd."

"Tits." He leered at her chest. "Are you looking forward to this repositioning? I certainly am." He grabbed his groin.

Rage pressed his chest against her back, growling softly.

Joan reached behind her and patted his thigh in a stealthy attempt to calm her overprotective cyborg. "I'm focused on this deployment." She authorized the access panel. The exterior door opened and she strode out of their chambers, not looking back. Rage followed her. Boyd trailed him, muttering about payback and how she'd get what was coming to her.

The guard didn't care if others heard his threats.

Because the others were on his side. He had their support, the whole damn ship's backing. Commander Lewis approved her harassment as he had approved the torture of the cyborgs under his care.

Joan lifted her chin, not allowing her shipmates to see her fear. They might think her a slut, unintelligent and antisocial, but no being could say that the battle station's first and last female cybernetic engineer lacked bravery.

They accessed door after door. Engineers, cyborgs, and their guards filed in front of her. This close, the cyborgs should be able to communicate with each other, using silent secured transmissions designed to coordinate attacks.

In the field, they could communicate across the length of a small planet, but on the station, that ability had been intentionally hampered. The Humanoid Alliance didn't want the cyborgs to talk while they weren't fighting.

Joan led Rage and Boyd across the docking bay. She ignored the snide comments of the other engineers and guards, the blank looks of the cyborgs, and concentrated on formulating a plan.

If she neutralized the blocking mechanisms, it might help all of the cyborgs to escape, to follow Rage into freedom.

The location of the mechanisms was a closely guarded secret. The average cybernetic engineer wasn't informed of where they were situated. The average waste processing engineer thought the mechanisms placed in the support system tunnels cleaned the air.

She'd realized what they truly did and had diverted herself during shit patrol by finding all of them.

She had her gray flight suits, the uniform of a waste processing engineer. She doubted that her access to the tunnels had been removed. No one would ever think that a being with her higher status would reenter that smelly world.

Crash and Gap, Rage's friends, waited with their guards and engineers by their ship. She met Crash's gaze and nodded. His unnaturally black eyes remained void of emotion, his blank expression not changing.

She turned to her cyborg, took his wrists, pressed the release buttons, allowing him to depart the battle station for the last time, to board his ship, to leave her forever. "Be careful, sir."

She gazed up at him, showing him all of her emotions, not caring who else saw. They knew she was fucking her cyborg. What did it matter if they knew she had feelings for him also?

Rage gave her the expected blank look, didn't say anything more. She watched him as he stomped up the ramp, wishing she could say goodbye, that she could kiss him one more time, feel his arms around her.

That wasn't possible. It had to appear like a normal deployment, one of hundreds, nothing unusual. Joan hid her breaking heart under a fake smile, joined a group of engineers, and returned to the chambers she once shared with her cyborg.

He wouldn't be returning. She drifted around the space, touching pieces of broken armor she'd replaced, the horizontal support where he'd held her, his body warm against hers, the guns with triggers calibrated to his fingers only. His scent hung in the air. His nanocybotics bubbled inside her, repairing aging cells and other damage that came from simply living.

A tear trickled down her cheek. It was a foolish reaction. She wiped the wetness away. She hadn't cried since her family was killed in the agri lot attack. That had been a horrific moment, the grief overwhelming.

This moment should be a happy one. The cyborg she cared for, might even love, was safe, free. He'd exist for many more human lifespans, find his version of peace, fighting battles, breeding with lucky females. She hugged her stomach, her pain intensifying.

_Pull it together, Joan_ , she chastised herself. _You don't have time to wallow in wishes or what-might-have-beens. Rage and his friends are counting on you._

She'd deactivate the blocking mechanisms. That should be easy to do. A dagger through their circuits should render them inoperable.

Then what?

She chewed on her bottom lip. A distraction would divert focus from the cyborgs.

She rummaged through the wall panels, searching for materials. There were odds and ends of mechanics, enough to create dozens of small bombs. After the attack on the agri lot, she'd learned the basics of quickly and efficiently defending a plot of terrain. A perimeter of bombs slowed even the most aggressive attackers.

Where should she place them? She was already entering the service tunnels to deactivate the blocking mechanisms. They ran though every area of the battle station. She knew which tunnels led to where, could target exactly where she wanted to the bombs to be. She could time them to explode during the repositioning.

That would make a stinky diversion. Joan grinned, her fingers flying over the mechanics. Commander Lewis would rue the planet rotation he assigned her to shit patrol. His perfect battle station was about to become a lot messier.

### Chapter Ten

_You're happiest in battle._

Rage slid along the war-scorched ground, shooting, a gun in each of his hands. That wasn't true. He was happiest when he was with her.

But battle was a close second. He rolled, blasting a Mantidae with a barrage of projectiles. The insect enemy's head exploded, a satisfying mess of blood and shell.

He didn't know when he would next fight a foe face-to-face. Dogfights in space required skill but didn't give him the same satisfaction. They didn't siphon off his excess energy. He dodged a projectile and retaliated with three of his own.

He should slow the battle, savor the experience.

He couldn't. The sadness in his female's eyes when she told him to be careful flashed through his processors. She didn't think he was returning. He should have told her the plan, should have reassured her.

Rage downed the last Mantidae encroaching on his combined territories and trekked back to the ship, kicking up ash as he walked. He was angry. That wasn't a new development. He was often angry, except this time, the target of his rage was himself.

"You clear the areas faster with every deployment." Crash didn't look up from the energy converter he was modifying.

Gap stripped a gun down to parts. "Did your female make more improvements?"

"No." Rage discarded his armor. "She sent this for you." He ripped the memory chip off his chest and tossed it to Crash. "The third tracking device is positioned over the twelfth vertebrate. She recorded instructions on how to remove it."

"Do you trust her?" The cyborg turned the chip over in his fingers. "Or should I perform a scan on this first? That might destroy some of the data."

"I trust her." Rage sat on a boulder. "Broadcast the information to me."

"And me too." Gap never wanted to be excluded.

If Rage thought the chip was infected, he'd protest, try to protect the kid, but he meant what he said. He trusted Joan, more than any being in their cursed universe. He picked up a weapon, planning to repair it.

Crash slid the card into one of his neck slots. "I'm broadcasting."

A flood of images, narrated by his female's voice, surged through Rage's processors and his gun was forgotten, her words tearing at his heart.

I care for your friend. Very much.

His security is my first concern. If he dies, my sacrifices will be for nothing, my life meaningless.

"Lucky bag of bolts," Crash muttered.

He _was_ fortunate. Rage didn't realize how much until this message. His female relayed a stream of information, positions of fleets, lists of Humanoid Alliance-controlled planets and sectors, possible modifications they could make to their mechanics, how to slow their energy consumption if that was needed. Some of the insights they knew. Some they didn't.

A smile spread wider and wider across Crash's face, his upgrade-loving friend growing giddy on the data. Gap appeared as enraptured, cuddling against a gun barrel.

Rage's concerns, however, multiplied. He heard the sadness in his female's voice, the desperation, the fear. Her words spilled out of her mouth faster and faster.

Then they stopped. The images of ships and systems disappeared. Her beautiful face dominated the viewing area.

"I'll record my message for Rage now. Remember your vow, Crash. Only give this to him when he's safe. I'm counting on—"

The recording paused.

"What the frag?" Rage turned his head and glared at his friend. "Did you do that or is the chip corrupted?"

"Your female is trusting in me, is trusting in my honor as a cyborg and a warrior, to uphold my end of the bargain." Crash's jaw jutted.

"I'm safe." He wanted, no, he _had_ to hear all of it.

"That's not what she meant."

Rage knew that. "That's what she said." His friend opened his mouth. "We're warriors. She's aware of that. Warriors don't interpret orders or try to decipher their meaning. We follow them. She said to give me the message when I'm safe. Am I in danger?" He looked around them. The landscape was barren, devoid of other life. "No. I'm safe."

"I—"

"Give. Me. The. Message." Rage stood, prepared to beat the chip out of him.

"Okay. Okay." Crash waved his hands. "I'll give you the message, big guy."

"You." The recording played. Joan looked away from the screen for a moment, her mouth moving, no words coming from her lips. She then took a deep breath and gazed straight at him. "Rage, sir, when you receive this, you'll be home, wherever your new home is, and I'll be dead."

Dead. His Joan. He couldn't process that thought, would do anything to prevent it.

"Don't be concerned about me, sir. I realized when I agreed to our pairing that I wouldn't survive it." She touched the screen and he reached out, wanting to feel her soft hands against his. Instead, he grasped ash-heavy air. "I don't regret that decision. These past planet rotations have been the happiest of my lifespan. I care for you more than I've ever cared for any other being. It was an honor to serve you."

She swallowed hard, her eyes misting with tears.

That disturbed Rage more than her words. His female never cried.

"I didn't tell you the whole truth, sir, and I hope you will forgive me with time. I knew if you were told, you'd try to save the others first, and I couldn't allow that. You're my first priority."

"Joan," he rumbled.

"You're not the only cyborg they plan to decommission. The Humanoid Alliance is replacing every unit on the battle station." Her beautiful face hardened. "Every warrior who fought for us, who risked his life for ours, will be terminated. I can't allow that, sir. A cyborg didn't save me solar cycles ago so I could sit back and watch his brethren die. You, above all other beings, will understand why I must take action."

"Female, what are you planning to do?" Rage glared at her image, frustrated that she wasn't here to answer him.

"I'll save as many of your friends as I can, sir." Her normally sunny smile held a heartbreaking sadness. "I am and will always be your cunning, scheming female. Remember me that way and try to be happy. Oh." Her brown eyes glittered. "And forgive Crash for giving this message to you now. I made him swear on his honor that he'd wait."

The image went black.

"I have no honor." Crash's shoulders slumped. "Your female trusted me and I failed her."

"What did she mean—she'll be dead?" Gap looked at Rage for an answer.

"She'll risk her life to save the other cyborgs." How? He didn't know. His female was too intelligent for his sanity.

The kid frowned. "But we're returning to help her."

"She doesn't know that." Rage paced back and forth, back and forth, wanting to punch, kick, kill something. "She thinks we're escaping during this deployment."

Crash lifted his head. "You didn't trust her with the entire plan?"

"No." It was a mistake that might have cost him his female's life. "We have to return to the battle station." She was in danger.

"If we return now, we'll be violating direct orders." His friend was the voice of reason. "They'll fire on us and our shields won't hold at close range. We can't save your female if we're dead."

"If we do nothing, she's dead also."

"Use those huge primitive processors of yours." Crash rolled his eyes. "Your female is intelligent. Yes?"

Rage grunted his agreement.

"Her first priority, as she stated numerous times, is to ensure your safety." His friend spoke slowly. "Freeing the other cyborgs would bring attention to all of us. She wouldn't do that, not while we're on deployment. She'd wait until the last moment, until after we're scheduled to arrive. Your female relayed to us how long it would take for command to send out reconnaissance probes. That's when she'd take action."

Crash's logic was sound. Some of the tension eased from Rage's shoulders. "Ours will be the first ship to return."

"Are we taking the female hostage?" Rage didn't like the way Gap's humanlike eyes lit up.

" _I'm_ taking _my_ female hostage." He wanted there to be no misunderstandings as to whom she belonged to. No other cyborg, not even his friends, would touch her. "We'll remove our tracking devices now, holding them in place with medical tape." That part of his female's plan was solid. "When we return to the station, we'll wait until we reach our chambers to take action. Kill your handlers there, quietly. Wait for a tenth of a shift. The guards will have discarded their weapons by then, making them easier to kill. That's when we'll leave our chambers."

"And then?" Gap leaned forward.

"Everyone, except for my female, dies." The battle station would be blown up, the blame cast on the Mantidae. They couldn't risk any being following them. Their ships were designed for short trips, not journeys across vast galaxies.

"I'll relay those instructions to the other cyborgs." Crash tapped the memory chip in his neck. "They'd benefit from the information your female shared also."

Rage hesitated for a moment, part of him wishing to keep everything associated with Joan to himself. But Crash was correct and his little engineer would wish every cyborg to have the knowledge she gave them. "Share the contents of the chip with them."

Crash's eyebrows lifted. "Not _all_ of it."

"All of it." They should know what their fate might have been, that they were slotted for decommissioning and that one small human female sought to stop that, to save them.

"But—"

"They're risking everything to follow us, Crash. They deserve to know why."

His friend gazed at him for one, two, three triple heartbeats. "True." He lurched to his feet. "I'll transmit the information." He strode purposefully around the ship, looking for the ideal spot.

Leaving Rage with the kid and, judging by the young cyborg's expression, too many questions. He braced himself, resigned to answering them.

"Do you think your female will like me?" Gap kicked a gun handle.

"You won't touch her."

"I don't want to touch her." He wrinkled his nose. "She smells like you. But if she liked me, she might help me find my own human female, a being who would care for me as she cares for you."

"That level of caring is rare," Rage admitted. "Take off your armor. I'll remove your tracking devices."

Gap unfastened his arm coverings. "That caring might be easier to find with her assistance. She understands other human females, beings such as herself."

Rage opened his thigh compartment, removed the pain inhibitor, medical tape and laser scalpel Joan had stored there. "Human females aren't allowed in the Homeland." He sprayed the pain inhibitor over the cyborg's wrists.

"My female could be stored with yours."

Rage hadn't yet decided where to store his little human. He'd research planets near the Homeland during their voyage, find a safe, secure location for her. "Do you feel this?" He pinched Gap's skin, mimicking Joan's process.

"No." The kid stared down at his wrist. "It's possible to take away the pain like that?"

He grunted and made an incision. It took him several moments to find the tracking device. The wound healed. Rage didn't have a cleaning cloth so he stuck the bloody mini machine to Gap's wrist and layered medical tape over top of it. He smeared more blood over the surface to disguise the cut.

Joan would shriek with horror if he returned from deployment looking like that. Rage doubted that the kid's handler would notice.

He turned his attention to Gap's other wrist, following the same procedure.

"It's a long voyage to the Homeland." The kid chattered more than his little engineer. "Your female might run out of upgrades to perform on your mechanics and require another cyborg to make faster, stronger." He flexed his lean muscles. "I could be that cyborg. I want to be at the top of my ability range when I meet my female. She'll know then that I can protect her as well as you protect your Joan."

He was doing a poor job of protecting his Joan at the moment. Rage's lips flattened into a grim white line. She was on a battle station, surrounded by males who wished to harm her.

He removed the second tracking device, taped it to the cyborg's skin.

Crash returned. He avoided their gaze.

That wasn't like him.

"What is it?" Rage demanded. "You have some new intelligence. Share it with us."

"You'll be angry and we can do nothing about it now. Getting us all killed won't help her."

_Won't help her._ His female was in danger. "They plan to attack her during this deployment." He set the laser scalpel aside, unable to use it. He couldn't be gentle right now, not even with the kid.

Crash nodded. "They won't kill her. They believe you'll complete that task for them."

The humans thought he was a brutal machine. He curled his thick fingers into fists. "I'd never hurt her."

"I know that and you know that. They don't." His friend's voice softened. "She'll survive, Rage, _if_ you react logically. Keep your processors functioning, ignore their taunts, and stick to the plan."

"I'm to do nothing?" His knuckles cracked. "I'm to stay here and allow them to abuse my female, to hurt her, violate her?"

That would dim the light in her eyes, damage her spirit, destroy their relationship. Knowing he failed her, she would never look at him the same way, with trust, confidence, caring. Fraggin' hell, _he_ wouldn't look at himself the same way. He'd be less of a cyborg.

"You have no choice. You have to complete this deployment."

That was easy for his friend to say. "Would you complete the deployment if she was your female?" He picked up a damaged gun and threw it against a boulder, shattering it.

"If she was my female, I'd want her to live." Crash looked as angry as Rage felt. "I'd put my fury, my fear, my pride aside and do whatever I had to do to ensure that happened."

Rage glowered at him.

"Return early and they'll kill you." His friend hammered him with logic. "Attack your guard before he and the others have been disarmed and they'll kill you. Disobey their commands and they'll kill you."

"Death doesn't frighten me." Joan being harmed did.

"It should frighten you because your death translates into hers." Crash looked at him, sympathy reflecting in his dead black eyes. "As long as you remain alive, she does also."

What his friend said was rational. Rage could try to fix any damage the humans caused. He couldn't bring Joan back to life.

He knew that, deep in his processors, and, if he were a more evolved E model cyborg like Crash, he might remain on this fraggin' hole of a planet, might allow his female to be hurt, abused.

But he was a C model, primitive and protective, and he'd safeguard her or die trying.

"I'll use another cyborg's ship." He put on his armor, his movements sharp and jerky. "If they blow that up, they won't know who died. You'll have the opportunity to save Joan."

"Rage—"

"I'm doing this." He traded his guns for weapons once belonging to the Mantidae. The humans could remotely lock the guns they supplied, preventing them from being fired within the battle station. "I won't allow her to be harmed."

"I won't allow you to get yourself killed." Crash raised his gun, switched the setting to stun, and aimed it at him.

Rage wasn't concerned. His fight-avoiding friend wouldn't shoot him. "Whatever happens, I have no regrets." He strode in the direction of Intrepid's ship. That cyborg would help him. "She's worth the risk."

"You are too."

A burst of energy smacked Rage in the back of the skull. It would have pushed him forward, except his feet were stuck to the ground. He couldn't move his legs, arms, mouth. He was frozen in place.

His blasted friend had shot him.

### Chapter Eleven

Joan darted across the brightly lit hallways, moving from alcove to alcove. The cyborgs remaining on the battle station should now be able to communicate. She had destroyed the blocking mechanisms, sacrificing five of Rage's daggers. He wouldn't need them. Her heart was heavy. He wouldn't be returning.

She'd also planted mini bombs in the service tunnels at the far side of the station, setting the timers to a planet rotation from now. Those would create a diversion to ease the cyborgs' escape.

Her next project was to hack into the access panel to their chambers, allowing them to leave. That required her personal viewscreen, which she'd left in Rage's chambers. Retrieving it was risky. The males planning to attack her could be waiting in the vicinity.

But she had to attempt it.

Hearing voices, she waited in the shadows. A group of three engineers passed, laughing and weaving a little. They must have started the repositioning celebrations early. Their cyborgs must have already been cleaned and repaired, needing no more servicing for the next couple of planet rotations.

She'd never clean Rage again. Joan pushed back her sorrow and sprinted to the next alcove. Back and forth, back and forth, she went, until she reached the door to their chambers.

The hallway was empty. The door didn't appear to have been tampered with. She looked to the right and to the left, ran across the public space and smacked the access panel with her right palm.

The door slid open. She stepped inside and froze in place.

Some being had been there. Her heart pounded. The thick inner door had been pried open and was now held in place by twisted pieces of metal. Lights flashed off and on. The corners of the chambers were shrouded in darkness. Panels hung off the walls. Pieces of mechanics were scattered over the floor.

Joan peered into the chambers. She didn't spot any beings, didn't hear anything other than the sizzle and pop of the broken lights. The vandals could have trashed the space and then left or they could be hidden inside, waiting for her.

She took one step closer to the inner door. Her viewscreen was on the floor. She leaned into the space. It looked to be undamaged. The intruders wouldn't have been able to access the information on it. Only her palm print would unlock that data.

She could dash into the chambers, grab the device and leave. Joan nibbled on her bottom lip. Her body wasn't built for speed but she might be successful.

She bent her knees, coiling her muscles more and more. She could do this. She could. She sprang forward, ran as fast as she could across the chamber, reached for the viewscreen, turned and—

"Going somewhere, Tits?" Plank stepped out of the darkness, his form filling the doorway, blocking her escape.

One male she could handle. Joan looked around her for a weapon. She grasped the barrel of a long gun Rage had been fixing. But Plank never went anywhere without backup. "Let me pass."

"Is that what you said to the experts at the Academy?" Dumb and Dumber revealed themselves. "We wondered how you graduated."

It would be three against one. None of them appeared armed, their hands free. They thought they could overpower her.

And they might be able to. Joan waved the long metal barrel, keeping them at a distance. If they synchronized their attacks, she wouldn't survive.

"I've been waiting for this, Tits." Boyd surfaced from his hiding place and Joan's odds worsened substantially. Plank, Dumb and Dumber were engineers, more academic than muscular. Boyd was a guard, trained for combat. "It's payback time." He touched his nose, the nose she broke.

"Not yet." Plank glanced to his left. "Olsen, do you have a gift for Tits?"

"I do." Her former friend limped into the light, his face hard and his eyes cold. He held an injector gun loaded with a tube of prolonger in his right hand.

Fear skittered down Joan's spine. The rectal wipes planned to torture her, to keep her conscious while they violated her, while they took her apart piece by piece. She'd feel everything, every humiliation, every wound, unable to escape it.

She couldn't avoid death. Five to one were odds even she couldn't overcome. Suicide wasn't an option. She'd discovered during the agri lot attack that her sense of self-preservation wouldn't allow her to take that step.

She _could_ evade the injector gun, could slip into blackness once the pain became too much to handle. Joan turned, keeping track of all five men while concentrating on her former friend. "You don't want to do this, Denny. Taking this step will change you, forever. Planet rotations from now, you'll continue to regret it."

Indecision flickered in his eyes. "You caused this, Tits." The nickname sounded harsher on Denny's lips. "You're a stupid female trying to fill a position that rightfully belongs to a male."

"And you're no male." Plank's gaze dropped to her breasts and she stepped backward, away from him. "We'll drive that point home soon."

"We'll drive more than the point home." Dumb pushed his hips forward. His flight suit was tented around his hard cock.

"You know you'll like it." Dumber, his sidekick, sniggered. "Cyborg slut."

Denny sidled closer to her, his expression grim. Joan tightened her grip on the long gun barrel. Sweat trickled down her spine.

He lunged forward. She swung. He dodged the blow, bouncing backward.

"Scared, Olsen?" Plank mocked him. "Do you need help handling a female?"

The males laughed, their lack of respect for Denny palpable. If he weren't trying to hurt her, Joan would have felt sympathy for her former friend. He always wanted to belong and he never would, not in this group. He wasn't as brutal and callous as the others were.

"Want me to hold her?" Boyd cracked his knuckles.

"Fuck you." Denny jutted his jaw. "I've got this."

His insistence on defeating her without help gave Joan a chance. She faced him, twirling the gun barrel, watching his hands. He hadn't lived through alien attacks, hadn't fought for his life, wasn't as strong or as cunning as she was. But he _was_ as desperate and that made him dangerous. She wouldn't underestimate his abilities.

Joan crouched. Denny rushed forward. She aimed at the injector gun. He twisted his body and she missed his hand, whacking his shoulder instead.

Denny grabbed the barrel and yanked her toward him. She wrenched her makeshift weapon away from him and jumped backward, maintaining the gap. The males hooted and hollered, insulting both of them. Joan ignored the noise, concentrating on her opponent, on her former friend.

Sweat covered his skin, wet his red hair. His hands shook. They circled each other, looking for weaknesses. He limped, the wound she gave him the previous planet rotation obviously still paining him. She could—

He attacked again, charging toward her, his body angled to protect the injector gun. That left his thigh open. Grasping the long gun barrel with both palms, using all of her strength, Joan struck him hard.

Metal smacked against cloth-covered skin. Denny shrieked, instinctively bending over, reaching for his leg. Joan batted the injector gun out of his hands. The tube shattered against a wall panel. Yellow prolonger fluid splattered over the gray surface.

She didn't wait for Denny to recover, striking him again, the long gun barrel connecting with his thick skull. There was a crack and he fell to the floor, twitching.

"You idiot." Plank displayed no sympathy for the engineer, his so-called friend. "You had one job to do and you fucked it up." He kicked Denny. Dumb and Dumber joined in.

Joan ran toward the exit.

"Not so fast, Tits." Boyd stepped in front of the door. She couldn't, wouldn't stop, frantic to leave. He drew one of his fists back and punched her in the face.

Pain shot over her nose, across her cheekbones. She staggered backward, barely keeping upright. Blood gushed from her nostrils.

"That's payback for the cheap shot you took in the docking bay." He advanced. "You should have been nicer to me."

"I should have hit you harder." Joan retreated, clinging to the long gun barrel, her only weapon. Rage's nanocybotics bubbled over her nose, hastily repairing the damage, easing some of the hurt. "C899321 deserves your respect. He's twice the male you'll ever be."

"I'm not a dimwitted machine. I'm all man." Boyd's eyes glittered. "You'll discover that when I fuck that fat ass of yours."

"The Commander requested first rights to her ass." Plank smirked as he imparted that sickening news. "And he wants her to be conscious while he fucks her. Find another tube of prolonger before you hit her again."

Dumb and Dumber rummaged through the wall panels. They wouldn't find any tubes stored there. Joan had discarded all of them, seeing no use for a prolonger on a battle station, not wanting her successor to use them on Rage.

She had to escape before Plank, the group's leader, realized there were no replacements. Joan glanced at Boyd. He was the only barrier between her and freedom. He'd been instructed not to hit her and he arrogantly wasn't wearing his body armor.

She might be able to defeat him.

"No one is fucking my ass." She leveled fast, hard blows down on him, not allowing him an opportunity to grasp the long gun barrel.

"If I can't retaliate." Boyd raised his arms, protecting his face, as she beat him. "At least get the cursed female off me."

"Do that yourself." Plank made no attempt to help him. "What kind of guard can't defend himself?"

"I can defend myself." Boyd tried to grab the long gun barrel.

Joan moved out of his reach. If he removed her weapon, she was dead. She couldn't defeat him in hand-to-hand combat. He was stronger. His arms were longer.

"Come here, you bitch." Boyd lurched forward. She smacked his hand. Bones crunched and he howled.

Hope lifted Joan's spirits and revived her tired muscles. All she had to do was break his other hand and she'd be free. She'd live for another planet rotation, perhaps longer. More cyborgs could escape, join Rage.

Shit. She'd missed him.

She swiped the blood away from her lips and surveyed Boyd. He held his broken hand. The pain might make him lightheaded, stupid.

Joan swung the long gun barrel. Her aim was off. The metal connected with his biceps, bounced off his muscle.

Boyd's eyes grew wild. "Fuck not hitting her." He lurched toward her and slammed his fists against her shoulders, knocking her right arm out of its socket and her onto her ass.

She gasped, the agony excruciating. The long gun barrel clattered to the floor. She couldn't grip it, her arm unusable, her fingers not functioning. Joan rolled. Before she could grasp the long gun barrel with her left hand, Boyd kicked her in the stomach.

Joan wheezed, spitting blood, its metallic taste filling her mouth. She tried again, reaching for the piece of metal. Boyd stomped on her hand, crushing her bones under the heel of his boot.

She screamed, unable to silently take the torture. The sound reverberated in the chambers and drew the attention of the others.

"Boyd, you idiot." Plank shoved at the much larger guard's chest. Boyd didn't move, his crazed gaze locked on Joan. "The Commander said—"

"She's conscious." Boyd spat. Hot wet saliva splashed against her cheek. "The prolonger will still work." He kicked her again, the bones in her left shin cracking under the assault. "What does it matter if we rough her up before or after she's injected?"

"Do what you want, but you're taking full responsibility if she loses consciousness." Plank backed away from them. "You'll be reprimanded, not me."

The words echoed as if spoken at a distance. Blackness narrowed Joan's field of vision. Boyd was right. As long as she remained at all conscious, the prolonger would do its job, prevent her from slipping into the soothing darkness.

All hopes of escape vanished the moment he broke her leg. She'd die. That was a certainty. The only choice left to her was how her death would occur.

Rage was safe. She'd given the other cyborgs a better chance at escaping. There was nothing left for her. She had no family, no career, no big, strong, angry cyborg to care for, to love.

And she did love him. She realized that now. Her lips curled into a small smile. For several planet rotations, she'd known true happiness. That had been worth all of the struggle, the grief, the pain right now sweeping in heavy waves over her form.

She was glad he wouldn't see her like this, broken and defeated, that her possessive cyborg wouldn't return to find her body violated. Any caring he might have had for her would have vanished, because no male could love a being who had been used that way.

No female should have to live through that experience. She was ready to die.

"Are you reporting to Plank now?" Her taunt was slurred. "Are you too dumb to think for yourself?"

"Fuck you." Boyd slammed his boot into her stomach again and again. "I'm not the one lying on the floor, about to take it up the ass."

"Heard you have." She'd reached her pain threshold, couldn't feel more of it, her entire body throbbing with agony. "Heard you bend over for the engineers all the time."

Blood trickled down her chin. The ringing in her ears intensified. The tunnel of darkness narrowed.

"You'll be bending over for every engineer on the station." Boyd continued to hammer at her body with his reinforced-toed boots, a scary grin on his ugly face. "They all want a shot at you. The guards too. But I'll be second, after the Commander has fucked you, shooting his wad inside your fat ass. I earned that right."

"By bending over for them." Emotional agony added to Joan's physical distress. They'd discussed who'd have her first, every engineer lining up to violate her, to hurt and humiliate her...as they hurt and humiliated the cyborgs.

The entire battle station was corrupt. If she had known that, she would have planted larger bombs in the service tunnels, compromising the entire structure, allowing only enough time for the cyborgs to escape before causing an implosion.

But it was too late for that now. It was too late for anything.

"Get the prolonger from your chambers." Plank's voice pierced the buzz. "Quickly before he loses it."

Shit. She was running out of time.

Joan braced herself upward with her one functioning wrist. "Is that all you have, Boyd?" She coughed blood. "You kick like a female."

His eyes blazed. "I'll show you how hard I can kick, Tits." He drove his booted foot forward, grunting with the effort.

Her muscles and every survival instinct she had screamed in protest as she shifted her body to the left, placing her forehead in the path of Boyd's boot. Light exploded in her brain, pain zinged over her skull, and everything went black.

### Chapter Twelve

The ship shuddered. They'd finally returned to the battle station. About fraggin' time. Rage was ready to lose his shit, the thought of Joan alone, in danger, making him want to kill some being.

No, not some being. Crash and Gap.

"Release me," he bellowed. His two former friends had chained him to his seat.

"We will." Crash gazed down at him. "First, vow on your honor as a cyborg not to attack any being while the guards remain armed."

Rage narrowed his eyes.

Gap stood beside Crash, his unmarked face furrowed with concern. "You said we had to stick to the plan."

He'd said that before he knew Joan was in danger.

"Every moment you delay is a moment your female remains unprotected." Crash raised one of his eyebrows.

"I vow." He didn't have a choice. She had remained unprotected for far too long already. "If she's dead, I'll kill both of you with my bare hands."

"I know you will." Crash dipped his head, accepting his fate. "I did what I thought was right for you and for her." He released Rage. "Your processors weren't functioning properly."

"So you decided to shoot me." Rage stood, flexing his muscles. "Was that a logical response?"

Crash tilted his head.

"Frag you." He didn't have time for a discussion. Rage stomped through the ship, his boot heels ringing against the metal floor.

_Remember the humans will taunt you, trying to get a reaction, which would give them an excuse to kill you._ The E model cyborg followed him, transmitting through their secured lines. _Don't give them what they want. Your female's life depends upon it._

He'd do whatever he damn well pleased. As Rage thumped down the ramp, exiting the ship, the noise over the line amplified.

_We can communicate with the cyborgs on the alternate shift._ Gap expressed what he was thinking. _How is that possible? They're in their chambers._

_My cursed female. That's how it's possible._ She'd taken action into her own small, breakable human hands, not waiting for him to return.

Because she didn't believe he was coming back for her. She didn't know she was his, his to protect, his to keep.

Boyd, that warrior wannabe, stood by their ship, a smirk on his bruised face, a long gun in his hands. One of his hands was wrapped in medical binding.

Rage knew his feisty female was responsible for that also. He inhaled and any satisfaction that he felt disappeared. He smelled her scent on the guard.

"We've been waiting for you, machine, eager for the next stage of fun to start." Boyd lifted his long gun, reminding him who held the power.

For now.

_He touched her._ Rage's vision turned red. _While I was stunned into stillness on that cursed planet, he was violating my female._

_You can kill both him and me after he disarms._ Crash sounded as tormented as Rage felt.

He wanted to blame his friend for Boyd's actions but the bitter truth was, Crash was right. He hadn't been thinking rationally, would have gotten himself killed and not been able to help Joan now.

His error wasn't failing to return early. Rage marched toward his chambers. It was leaving her unprotected in the first place.

_Your first priority is to ensure your female is safe._ Crash continued to spew soothing reason. _You can't protect her if you're dead._

_He's injured. I can take him._ He could pivot on his heels, slash the guard's neck with one of his daggers. Rage's fingers twitched. Boyd's skull would be bouncing on the floor before he had time to react.

The other guards will come to his rescue. You can't risk it.

Why does my guard smell like—

_Shut up, Gap._ Crash didn't respond fast enough. Rage heard the kid.

All of the guards had violated her. His fingers curled into massive fists. She was small and there were so many of them, the males bigger, stronger. There wouldn't be anything left of her, of his brave, beautiful female.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt fear but he felt it now. If he lost her—

No, he wouldn't lose her. He couldn't.

And the humans would pay for their treachery.

_Every non-cyborg, except for my female, dies._ He opened the transmission to all of the cyborgs on the station. _Slowly, painfully. Take them apart piece by piece. Use prolongers if they're available._

The cyborgs cheered. They didn't know the reason for the order. They didn't realize that his female had been tortured, could have been killed.

He'd allowed that to happen, failed in his duty to safeguard her. Rage's knuckles whitened. He should have figured out a way to take her with him, should have told her his plans, should have done something, anything.

He walked as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. Humans watched him as he passed them. He smelled her on more of the males, heard the whispers.

"Tits got what she deserved."

"No other female would dare to take one of our positions after this."

"It'll kill her like it did the last engineer. There will be nothing left of her."

She was alive. Some of the tension in Rage's shoulders eased. He didn't know what state she was in but she had survived. Because that was what she was, what both of them were—survivors.

_Rage, talk to me._ He heard the concern in Crash's transmission. _Are you holding it together?_

He _was_ holding it together, barely. Not having the emotional bandwidth to reply, Rage put his vision and auditory on broadcast, allowing his friend and every other cyborg to see and hear everything he did.

_You're close to your chambers._ Crash talked as much as Joan. _You can do this._

He _would_ do this, for his female. The hallway seemed endlessly long, each step excruciatingly slow.

"We have a surprise for you this planet rotation." Boyd jabbed the long gun into Rage's back. "Because you've been such a good killing machine." His chuckle held no humor.

Rage gritted his teeth, not responding. Joan was the only human to see him as something other than a machine, as more than a weapon to be used. She cared for him, was willing to die for him.

And, because of his lack of action, she'd been harmed. He dreaded finding out how badly.

"We had our fun." Boyd slapped his palm against the access panel. The door slid open. "Now, it's your turn."

Rage stepped forward. Metal was wedged under the inner door, preventing it from closing, and his chambers were a mess.

He breathed in the scent of cum and blood. The combination should have excited him—breeding and fighting was what he was designed to do.

Instead, it turned his stomach. The violence was against his female. The breeding wasn't consensual. It was torture and it repulsed him. A low growl rolled up his chest.

"Kill her slowly." Boyd laughed.

Kill her? He'd rip the guard's head off. Rage turned. The door had already closed. He could pry it open.

He wouldn't. Joan needed him. For the first time in his lifespan, he put killing second. He rushed through the chambers, following her scent, stopped when he spotted the lump on the floor.

_That_ was his female? "Joan." His legs collapsed under him. His knees smacked against the hard tile, jarring his physique. Rage didn't register the impact, his gaze on her naked form.

She was covered with blood, cum and other body fluids, her skin sliced open, her face so badly beaten, he couldn't see her eyes. He placed one of his palms on her chest. The rise and fall was shallow and strained. Her breath whistled.

She lived, but the pain. Fraggin' hole. The pain she must have felt, must still feel.

He couldn't deal with it. Couldn't bear the sight of Joan suffering.

Rage threw back his head and roared, rattling the metal fragments scattered around him, filling the chambers with the sounds of his horror, his regret, his sorrow. They did this to her, the humans, and they would all die.

The overlapping flows of chatter on the secured line abruptly ceased. The space was silent, except for Joan's breathing. The humans had stopped her constant talking, and that frightened him, so damn much.

_You're broadcasting this to every cyborg on the station._ Crash breached the quiet.

_Don't care._ Rage bent over Joan and gently brushed the guck from her face, flicking it onto the floor. C model cyborgs were possessive. They'd never touch a female covered with another male's scent.

But Joan wasn't simply _a_ female. She was _his_ female. He pressed his lips to hers and licked the swollen, broken flesh, healing her with his nanocybotics.

_What can we do?_ Crash asked.

Make them pay.

The buzz on the secured line resumed, cyborgs fervently vowing to avenge his female. That should have been Rage's job. He was their top warrior. She was his to protect.

Killing wasn't his priority. All of his attention was on Joan, on healing her. He laved her flattened nose. His saliva wouldn't be enough. Her entire form was fractured, the extent of her damage squeezing his heart.

To restore her to full health, he'd have to breed with her, becoming another in a long list of males to violate her. Rage discarded his body armor, stripping naked. Would she forgive him for this, for everything he did and didn't do?

Did he deserve forgiveness? He carefully parted her legs and lowered himself over her. His mind recoiled at the thought of doing this, of hurting her more.

"I'll serve you as you served me, little female." It didn't matter the cost to him. Rage drew on a memory of their first meeting, how she had kneeled naked before him, her eyes bright, her mouth moving.

He hardened, pushed into her, pumped three times and forced his release. His nanocybotics attacked the remnants of the other males first, dissolving their essence, their disgusting scents.

Rage smelled more of her and less of them. He waited for five, six heartbeats, kissing her face clean, murmuring that she had to come back to him, that she was strong, clever, cunning, and he needed her. He couldn't bear the silence, the stillness.

Then he repeated the process, pouring everything he had into the female he couldn't live without, knowing the act of saving her might cause her to hate him forever.

* * *

Time passed. Rage didn't know how much time. His vision was bleary and his body weak, drained. The door slid open and Gap sauntered into the chambers, his face no longer as boyish, as unlined as it once was.

"I killed your guard." He tossed a severed hand on a chair. "Sorry. I meant only to remove his hand but then he started talking about cyborgs and your female and I had to hurt him. One slice of my dagger became fifty and eventually the human's flimsy heart stopped beating. They can't take much, even with prolongers."

"Don't care." Rage groaned as he found release yet again. There was pleasure in the act now, his nanocybotics having repaired Joan's pussy, tightening her around him, and that increased his guilt. His female was damaged. He shouldn't be feeling any bliss.

"Crash says he's saving the Commander for you."

Rage grunted. He'd smelled the male on Joan. He'd enjoy punishing him for hurting her, relaying some of his self-hatred to the Commander.

"He also sent me here to help you." The young cyborg stood over him, gazing down at Joan.

Her bones had realigned and were starting to mend. Her wounds had closed, the bleeding stopped. Her eyes were almost visible, the tips of her brown eyelashes peeking between her swollen skin. Rage had licked the top of her body clean, hadn't yet risked moving her to clean her back.

"Do you want me to take a turn?" Gap waved his hand over her.

"You will _never_ touch my female." Rage glared at him. "She's mine, mine to care for, mine to heal, mine to breed with."

"I don't want to touch her." The cyborg pulled the energy and nourishment tubes closer. "She smells like you but you're low on fluids." He bent down, inserted the ends into Rage's wrists. "You'll damage her if you collapse."

Rage's eyelids fluttered as the much-needed inputs coursed through his form. "Thank you." He did need the energy boost.

The kid dragged a chair over to him and sat. "She has as many scars as you do now."

"Her scars will heal." He hoped. Rage would care for her with or without them. They'd be a badge of honor, proof that his female was strong. But he didn't want her to remember her assault every time she looked in a reflective surface.

He brushed back some of her curly brown hair and kissed the lump on her forehead. That she'd had to live through it was bad enough.

"Could we have prevented this if we'd returned early?" Concern reflected in Gap's human-looking eyes.

"No." Rage sighed. "Crash was right. The humans would have killed me and then they would have killed her. You saved her life by stopping me."

"Good." His friend exhaled.

Rage eased in and out of his unconscious female once, twice, three times and found release. Her pussy overflowed with his cum. His arms and legs were stiff from bracing himself upward.

"Is breeding more enjoyable when the female is online?" Gap leaned forward, unabashedly observing him.

"Much," Rage grunted. "This is healing, not breeding." He pressed his lips between Joan's eyebrows. Would she forgive him for touching her like this? "Breeding with the right female is an unmatched experience." One he might not have again.

The cyborg raised his eyebrows. "It's better than fighting?"

"Yes." He would give up a lifespan of battle for one more opportunity to feel Joan's fingers gripping his shoulders, her legs around his waist, her hips hitching upward to meet his.

"Then why would you store your female elsewhere?" Gap tilted his head. "Why would you want to go one planet rotation without her?"

Rage had begun to wonder the same thing.

"When I find my female, I'll keep her with me," the young cyborg babbled. "If the Homeland won't accept her, I'll find a new planet or we'll stay on a battle station. By then, your female will have improved my mechanics and you will have shown me all of your fighting tactics. I'll be a powerful cyborg, able to do whatever I want, go wherever I please."

Gap had reason for optimism. He hadn't almost gotten his female killed, hadn't left her unprotected, allowed other males to violate her, hurt her.

Rage licked the dark purple bruises on Joan's shoulder. He might be able to heal her body but her trust would be more difficult.

He lifted his head and gazed down at her. It couldn't be. He closed his eyes, counted to three, opened them again. It was.

Her lips were moving.

"Joan?" Rage cocked his right ear closer. Even with his superior hearing, he couldn't make out the words. "I'm here, little engineer. You're safe. I'll protect you." Forever, he vowed. "There's nothing to fear." He skimmed her lips with his. "No one will harm you ever again."

### Chapter Thirteen

Joan lay in a field of gold, warmth bubbling over her naked skin, her arms and legs limp, her body relaxed. She was protected, safe, loved, yet conscious of the danger surrounding her.

Darkness hovered at the edges of this world, sinister and cold. She'd experienced it once. The hurt had seemed endless, striking every part of her body. It had been so intense, she'd thought she wouldn't survive it.

Then the sun had found her and plucked her from the misery, from the pain, engulfing her with its tantalizing heat. Its rays weighed heavily upon her form and filled her pussy, stretching her open.

She loved it, wanted to stay in the light forever.

"Come back to me," a stern voice ordered.

Instinctively, her senses sharpened and her spine straightened. That movement set off a landslide of pain within her. She knew the owner of the voice, wanted, needed to obey him, but she didn't know how.

Where was he? She gazed around her, seeing only the darkness on the horizon. How could she come back to him when she didn't know his location?

"Be still, little female. You'll hurt yourself."

This command she could obey. She gazed upward into the blinding brightness and searched her brain for the male's identity. Numbers streamed across her mind. They didn't feel right, didn't feel like a name she'd use for him.

She couldn't picture his face, couldn't remember how she'd met him. All she knew was she trusted him, cared for him. He was hers.

"Mine." Her voice was strange, hoarse, and her throat ached.

"Yes, yours." Heat encased her hand, pressed against her palm. "You own me. Always."

Another voice murmured. She shivered, shrinking away from the new male. He didn't belong in her world.

"Go help Crash. You're scaring her." There was a long pause, more murmurs. "Use your processors, Gap. My female hasn't spoken with you, doesn't recognize your voice. She was attacked and thinks you're one of them." Her male was angry.

Angry. "Rage." That was his name.

"I'm here, Joan." Warmth branded her forehead, her cheeks. "Open your eyes for me. Can you do that?"

Weren't her eyes already open? He sounded certain that they weren't. She lifted her eyelids. That took effort and when her eyelashes parted, the brightness doubled, causing sharp shards of pain to zing through her brain.

Her vision was foggy, a blur of gray. Two orbs of brilliant blue cut through the haze. "Sir." That form of address felt more natural. She attempted to raise her hand.

"That's it, female." He helped her, curving her palm over his firm skin. The raised flesh of a scar interrupted the smoothness. A trickle of moisture coated her fingertips. It couldn't be tears. Her male would never cry.

Joan touched his face. He remained still, allowing her to caress him, to gather her scattered thoughts. As she relearned his angles, his bluntness, his marks, her memories returned and with it, her concerns.

"You came back, sir." He was supposed to escape, to be free, far from harm.

"I would never leave you."

"But—"

"The cyborgs have taken control of the battle station." Rage turned his head, pressed a kiss into her palm. "No one will hurt you."

He thought her fear was for herself. It wasn't. She worried about him.

"I failed to protect you. The pain you must have experienced..." A shudder rocked his form, his skin vibrating against hers.

He blamed himself. She gazed at her arm, the arm she believed had been broken. There were strips of pink over her skin but no other signs of damage.

"I passed out when Boyd kicked me in the head, sir." She touched her forehead. There wasn't even a bump. Had she imagined the pain or had Rage's nanocybotics repaired her? "Was it bad?"

"Yes." Her cyborg's gaze slid from hers. He stared to the left, swallowed hard, his throat convulsing. "It was very bad." His voice was gruff. "You didn't feel it?"

"Not much." She wouldn't lie to him and say she felt nothing. "There was blood."

"I cleaned you."

"I'm supposed to serve you, sir, not the other way around." Joan summoned a smile. "That must have taken quite a few cleaning cloths."

"I cleaned you with my tongue." His eyes blazed. "And it was an honor to serve you."

Those were the words she'd left on her message to him. Her face heated. She never expected to see him again, never expected to hold him, to have him inside her. She bent her knees, cradling him between her thighs. Her legs ached.

"I should—" He pulled away, his cock head skimming along her inner walls.

"No." She grabbed him, ignoring the pain. "Stay inside me. I need you."

"You need my nanocybotics." Rage sank into her, the fullness exquisite, right.

"It's more than that." Joan looked up at his harsh face. "I need you, my male." She cupped his square chin, brushing her thumb over the scar there. "You make me feel safe."

His lips twisted. "I allowed you to be harmed."

"You couldn't have protected me." She didn't expect him to. He'd been a slave to the Humanoid Alliance, unable to move around freely.

"You said you'd never touch me without my permission." Rage's face grew hard. "I touched you without your permission."

"To heal me." She grazed his lips with her fingertips. "And if I had been conscious, I would have given you permission."

"But you didn't." He was determined to punish himself. "And I took you. I violated you like the—"

"Like the?" Joan inhaled sharply. "Like the others. They violated me, didn't they?"

He nodded.

"They were inside me." A tiny part of her had hoped it hadn't happened, that the soreness in her pussy and ass were due to other factors. But it had occurred. The males had used her unconscious body for their sexual release.

"Oh, shit." She stared at Rage. He was a possessive male, had told her multiple times that no other male would touch her. "You didn't want to breed with me." She released him, lowering her arms and legs. "You only did that to save my life."

"You were damaged and offline. Only a sick human would want to breed with you in that state. But it was necessary to heal you."

Joan's heart squeezed at his cold words. "I was damaged...because other males violated me. I must have smelled like them, been filled with..." She couldn't say it. "How can you stand to touch me, to look at me, knowing what they did?" She blinked back tears. "Another female—"

"There will be no other females for me and no other males for you." Rage's black eyebrows lowered. "You were damaged because the human males broke almost every bone in your body. Breeding with you healed you but it also caused you pain."

"They violated me, sir." She didn't remember any of it, waking cleaned and healed. She could pretend it didn't occur. He couldn't. He'd seen the aftermath. "Doesn't that disgust you?"

"I had been violated when we first met." Rage frowned. "Did that disgust you?"

"No, of course not, sir." She'd felt outrage for her cyborg, anger that any being would abuse him. "I admired you for what you had been through and I wanted you—"

"Because I'm your male." His expression softened. "You're my female." He flitted his lips over hers. "I was proud that you'd survived. If you had been weak, you wouldn't have."

"But—"

"I cleaned you with my tongue." Rage licked her chin. "Wiping away not only the blood but all of the other fluids also. I'm not mentally deficient, little engineer. I knew where you stocked the cleaning cloths, and, if touching you had revolted me, I would have used them first."

He still wanted her, cared for her.

"I love you, sir," she blurted.

Bolts of energy surged in his eyes. "You can't love me. I left you unprotected, allowing males to hurt you, violate you."

"You didn't know what they would do, sir."

"I knew exactly what they planned to do." His voice was harsh. "Midway through deployment, another cyborg warned us of the impending attack, and I didn't return to the battle station to stop it."

"Oh." Her trust in Rage wavered for one heartbeat until she remembered the warrior they were discussing. He was a C model cyborg, operating more on instinct than logic. There was zero possibility that he did nothing.

She revisited his words. He said he didn't return to the battle station to stop it, not that he didn't try to return to stop it. "What action did you take when you heard about the attack?"

"Nothing effective." He avoided her gaze.

She was right. Joan lifted her chin. He had done something.

"I bred with you without your permission." Rage continued his campaign to dissuade her from loving him.

"To heal me, sir." She smiled gently at him. "I require more healing." She rocked against him, stroking his shaft with her inner walls. "What else?"

His forehead furrowed. "I plan to kill Commander Lewis slowly, brutally."

"Good. I want to watch." The Commander had planned to kill Rage, had approved the attack on her. "And the others?"

"They're already dead." Her cyborg moved in and out of her, his passion controlled, careful. "You don't want to watch. He'll be tortured before he dies."

"I've seen your deployment footage, sir. I know what you can do." It would be bloody and grotesque, but she needed to watch.

His lips flattened.

"I'll have my justice." She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders, reveling in the ripple of muscle under his gray skin. "I can't take it myself. I'm too weak from the attack."

Rage growled. "I wouldn't allow you near him." He thrust harder, deeper. "He'll never hurt you again."

Commander Lewis must have been one of the males who had violated her. Joan winced, the idea of him inside her sickening. "Then I expect you to take him apart piece by piece, sir." She gave him permission to do what she knew he desired. "No mercy."

"You mourned the death of a bovine." Her cyborg eyed her with suspicion.

"Wanderer was an innocent. Commander Lewis isn't. He asked the males to use a prolonger on me." Joan held onto her cyborg warrior. "He wanted me to feel every cut, every broken bone."

"You didn't allow that." Rage's eyes glittered.

"There were five of them. I couldn't save myself but I could prevent that fate." She arched into him, brushing her nipples across his chest. "Torture him. Show me what you'd do to any male who hurt me. I need that reassurance."

"You won't look at me the same way."

"I love you for who you are, Rage." It was a violent universe and she felt safer with a male equipped to deal with that violence. "Never deny your true nature."

His reply was a grunt.

What did that mean? Did he love her? Did he even understand what love was?

Before they met, she doubted that her cyborg had known any variation of affection. From his recounts, the breeding sessions had been brief and cold. He was born in a laboratory, hadn't grown up with a mother or a father.

Yet he was being very careful with her now, tempering his thrusts, bracing most of his weight. He'd returned to her, accepted her despite the attack.

That gave Joan hope that some planet rotation, far into the future, his affection for her might strengthen into love.

She undulated under him, caressing his form with her curves, while Rage leisurely fucked her. She appreciated his tenderness. Her recovering body and spirit were unable to take the vigorous poundings of the past.

Desire wrapped around them. She whispered endearments, encouragement, praise as Rage's rugged countenance grew more and more craggy. His long black hair framed his skin, accentuating the blue of his eyes. Sweat glistened, caught in the seams of his scars.

He wasn't handsome, but he was striking, and hers, and she'd serve him until the end of her lifespan.

"Rage." She lifted into his thrusts, straining her aching limbs, seeking to please him and satisfy herself, to push them closer to the edge of pleasure. "Rage."

His cock swelled inside her. "Yes, female. Tell the others who has you, who will always have you." He varied his angle, rubbing against her clit with each drive forward.

She gasped, bliss radiating from her core, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders, called his name louder. Could the other cyborgs hear them through the door, through the walls? Her pussy constricted around his shaft. The heat between them escalated.

She panted, unable to maintain this frenzy for much longer, unwilling to come without his permission. "Rage?"

"Joan." He buried himself ball deep and swiveled his hips, grinding against her.

She broke, screaming, frantically grasping him, her rock in the storm of ecstasy. Her brain splintered. Her pussy clenched down on him.

He roared her name, pushing deeper. Warmth filled her, followed by more currents of pure, undiluted rapture. It was too much, too—

Rage covered her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth, this additional influx of nanocybotics keeping her conscious while increasing her joy. Flesh slid along flesh. She drank in the taste of him, male edged with metal. His chest heaved against hers.

They kissed until her form became still and her arms dropped to her sides. "That was worth living for." She smiled sleepily up at him. "Thank you for coming back for me, sir."

"Thank you for surviving." He brushed his nose against hers, this playful gesture from her serious cyborg enchanting her. "I'll take better care of you going forward, Joan."

"Hmmm...I like the sound of that." She blinked, fighting exhaustion, not wishing to waste a single moment with him.

"Sleep." He nuzzled against her cheek.

"Will you be here when I wake?" Was this a fantastic dream? She flattened her palms against his pecs, the triple beat of his cyborg heart pulsing under her fingertips.

"I'll be here, female, and I expect you to serve me then." The warmth in his eyes belied his brusque words. "We have tasks to complete before we leave."

_Before we leave._ Joan's smile stretched across her face. He was including her in his plans. "Yes, sir."

He wouldn't leave her, would be there when she woke. Joan closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.

### Chapter Fourteen

Rage gazed down at the beautiful female kneeling in front of him. He'd bred with her while she slept and his nanocybotics had faded the pink lines crisscrossing her face, neck, shoulders, everywhere. Soon, there'd be no reminders on her body of the ordeal she'd survived.

She hadn't remembered the worst of it, had retained some of her softness and all of her trust in him. He threaded his fingers through her brown curls, gratitude warming his chest. She still looked at him with the emotion she claimed was love.

He had no experience with love or affection between males and females. He did know what he found with her was rare and he'd safeguard it, protect her from the humans, from any hostile cyborgs, from the Homeland council if that was needed.

"Dress," he ordered.

Joan stood slowly, swaying slightly. "Should I help you with your body armor first, sir?" Her brown eyes sparkled with gold flecks, her eagerness to please him coiling around his heart, hugging his insides.

"Did I ask you to help me with my body armor first?" He covered his concern with sternness. She remained weak, hadn't fully recovered from the attack.

Her full cheeks pinkened. "No, sir." She hurried to a wall panel.

He donned his armor, watching her, bemused, as her fingers flitted from flight suit to flight suit. "You're to wear the gray one." She'd look more like one of them. "And remove the patch." Her allegiance no longer belonged to the Humanoid Alliance.

"Yes, sir." She tore the insignia from the garment, her fingers shaking.

His humor faded. She should stay in their chambers and rest, but his stubborn female wanted to see justice delivered. That earned his begrudging admiration but also increased his concern.

_Ensure there's a safe viewing area._ Rage transmitted to Crash. _He'll try to harm her._

His female fastened her flight suit, covering her lush curves, then slipped her feet into her sturdy black boots.

He won't harm her. We've built a wall out of transparent projectile proof material. Other cyborgs want to watch. Gap and I will stand by her side while you dispatch him.

Rage preferred to be the cyborg protecting her. He couldn't, not in this case. She counted on him to punish Commander Lewis, had told him not to deny his true nature.

He'd show her the worst of him.

"Come here." His voice was gruff.

She rushed to his side, her chest rising and falling, her generous breasts straining the confines of the flight suit. Rage brushed her hair back and smoothed her lapels. She was a mess as usual, requiring his care.

She teetered on the flats of her feet, reached out, held onto him for support. "I'm ready, sir."

She wasn't ready for anything. He scowled. "You're an obstinate female." He swung her into his arms, enjoying how her curvaceous body felt against his. "Touch the access panel." He turned.

She obeyed him. The door slid open. He stepped with her into the hallway and she inhaled sharply. There was a puddle of blood on the floor. Crimson was smeared over the walls. The scent of violence hung heavily in the air.

It was mixed with the pungent aroma of human waste. There'd been explosions at the far side of the station, concentrated around the service tunnels. Rage shifted his gaze to his female. He knew who had been responsible for those.

His female gazed around them, her face white, her bottom lip quivering.

It was a mistake to allow her to watch. "If this shocks you—"

"It doesn't, sir," she assured him, placing her palms on his armor-covered chest. "It worries me. It's so close to our chambers and I thought we were safe there."

"We were and are." Assured that it wasn't the blood that bothered Joan, Rage walked along the hallway, carrying her. "When you're with me, you're safe." When she wasn't with him, he'd ensure she was protected. "The blood didn't come from a cyborg." It was Boyd's. Gap had made a mess when he tortured and killed the guard.

Rage planned to make an even bigger mess when he tortured the Commander. The human arranged the attack on Joan, sought to draw out her suffering. He tightened his grip on her soft form. The Commander would pay for his actions.

Cyborgs were stationed at doors along the hallways, equipped with the severed hands of their former masters. As Rage approached, they sent energy pulses along the flesh, temporarily reanimating them, authorizing the access panels.

Need help with that beautiful cargo, Rage?

You missed most of the fun. Glad you could finally join us.

If you don't have room on your ship, I'd happily transport your female.

He was surrounded by idiots. Rage ignored their quips.

His female, unaware of the internal conversations, greeted the cyborgs, asking for their names, issuing compliments on some feature of their design. The males stood straighter, their chests puffed out with pride, their expressions verging on besotted.

Rage begrudgingly endured the flirting.

For many males, Joan was the first female they'd seen. She'd already won them over with her attempt to free them, her survival of the attack, and her devotion to him, their number one warrior. Meeting her increased their admiration for her.

And Joan's words were a coping mechanism, a way of dealing with her lingering fear. Rage smelled the apprehension on her skin every time they approached a male. The scent burned his nostrils and he had to curb the urge to attack, to eliminate the possible threat. But once she talked with the cyborg, her terror eased, allowing him to think clearer. She needed the flirting. He'd tolerate it.

Rage strode toward the Commander's chambers. Crash and Gap waited by the door, the younger cyborg standing behind his larger, older counterpart.

He frowned. "Why is Gap hiding? Are you planning to shoot me again?"

"Again?" Joan wiggled in his arms. "Your friend shot you, sir?"

"I shot him once." Crash didn't meet his gaze. "And the setting was on stun. He was about to get himself and you killed."

His female looked at him, her eyes wide. "You tried to return to the battle station to rescue me."

She was too cunning for Rage's comfort. "I could have succeeded."

"You wouldn't have. They would have blown up your ship before you reached the docking bay." Joan smiled at Crash. "Thank you for stopping him."

Crash's lips curled upward.

Rage grunted. She was thanking his friend for shooting him.

"Is there a threat?" He turned toward the younger cyborg. He wouldn't place his female in danger again. "Why are you standing behind Crash?"

"I'm scaring your female, like I did earlier," Gap mumbled. "I smell her fear."

"No, I'm scaring her." Crash lowered his gaze. "It's my eyes." He touched one of his eyebrows. "They frighten humans."

Joan wiggled. "Your eyes are dark and soulful. When you find the right female, she'll want to fall into their depths and never find her way out again."

What kind of nonsense was his female spewing now?

Whatever it was, it was effective. Crash gazed at her with an irritating look of wonder on his more human face.

Rage splayed his fingers over her curves, making his ownership of her clear.

"But, of course I'm frightened of you." She swallowed hard. "Both of you are fierce warriors, much bigger and stronger than I am. I'd have to be mentally deficient not to fear you. When I first met Rage, I was scared of him also."

Rage grunted, dipping his head. She _had_ been scared, not that it had stopped her from talking to him, touching him, caring for him. He sniffed the air, smelling no attraction between his female and his friends. She wouldn't care for them, not the way she cared for him.

"Your fear didn't stop you from becoming Rage's female." Gap peeked around Crash's shoulder.

"No, it didn't." Her smile lit the entire hallway. "And it won't stop your females from caring for you."

Gap opened his mouth. Rage didn't have the patience for more chattering. "Is the Commander inside?"

"He's chained. She'll be safe." Crash slapped two severed hands against the access panel and the door opened.

A clear wall two beings high separated them from the rest of the chambers. Cyborgs, different heights, different models, lined the perimeter. Commander Lewis stood naked in the center, facing away from them. One of his legs was chained to the floor. One of his hands was missing.

Joan quivered, her fear aggravating Rage.

"He won't touch you." He pressed his lips to her forehead, trying to calm her.

"He'll talk, sir, tell them what he, what the others did to me." The pain in her eyes pierced his heart. "Your friends will know and they won't look at me the same way."

"Every being here knows what he did to you." Rage wouldn't allow her to feel shame for another being's actions. "They want to watch because he did the same to them."

She blinked once, twice. "Did he do the same to you, sir?"

"Yes." He set her down, Gap positioned to her left, Crash to her right. "But I wasn't able to avoid the prolonger. None of us were." He summoned a smile he hoped was reassuring. "We're not as cunning as you are, female."

The lines etched between her eyebrows flattened. "They don't think less of me?"

"They don't." He held her gaze. "They admire your strength, as I do."

"I love you, sir."

Joan's declaration echoed through the cyborgs' private transmission lines.

"Kneel." That position would make her a smaller target. "While I seek justice for you."

"For every being, sir."

Rage didn't care about every being. He walked around the wall, into the middle of the chambers.

Make him pay.

Kill him slowly.

Show him how primitive a cyborg can be.

Rage tuned out the flow of unnecessary advice. "You can have a weapon to defend yourself." He'd give the Commander that dignity, to die fighting.

"C899321. I should have known they'd send you, our most primitive machine, to kill me." The Commander turned. Yellow rimmed his eyes. He'd been given a prolonger. "Who's controlling you? Is it the Mantidae? You're using their weapons."

The human still thought them mindless machines. Rage wouldn't correct that misconception. "Your dagger." He tossed the weapon to him.

The human caught it with his one remaining hand. "Go back to their nest. When we track you down, we'll destroy it _and_ you."

Rage grunted and circled him, daggers in both hands. Where to hurt him first? He recalled Joan's battered face. The Commander raised his dagger. Rage rushed forward, nicked the delicate skin under the human's eyes and retreated before his opponent reacted.

The Commander yipped like a new cyborg, swiped his fingers over the blood streaming down his face. "You missed my eyes."

"I wasn't aiming for your eyes."

The other cyborgs yelled suggestions for next nicks through the private lines. Rage had his own agenda, breaking the human's nose with his dagger handles.

The Commander howled. "You weren't designed for this. You kill quickly."

"I torture slowly." Rage bounced on the balls of his feet. "Humans taught me that." He sliced the male's forehead, easily avoiding the clumsy counterattack.

The Commander struggled to deal with the new wounds. Rage looked over his shoulder. His female nodded at him, a ghost of a smile on her face. He returned his attention to his opponent, not wishing for the male to see Joan, to taunt her, cause her more pain.

Rage took shallow gouges out of the Commander's cheeks, his neck, shoulders, chest, pausing after each strike, allowing the human's pain to crest and level.

"Tell the Mantidae we'll negotiate." The Commander's pitch rose. He was breaking, already. Rage's disgust of him increased. "We'll concede the planet."

The humans _would_ concede the planet. They didn't have cyborgs to defend it.

He decorated the Commander's protruding belly with nicks and slices, added a few to his back and shoulders, returned to his front, lowering to his hips.

One cut landed close to the male's cock.

The Commander whimpered. "I'm influential with the Humanoid Alliance. Whatever the Mantidae want, I'll arrange that they get it. We could clear their migration paths, give them more planets, anything."

Rage was taking what he wanted—justice for Joan, for himself, for the cyborgs cheering around him. He slid his daggers up the male's thighs, danced around him, did the same to his flabby ass.

He was tempted to shove a dagger into the human's puckered hole. The other cyborgs urged him to do exactly that. But, even surrounded by a haze of heart-pounding violence, he was aware of his female watching him, of his need to protect her. He didn't want Joan to be reminded of what the fiend did to her.

"I'll tell them anything they want to know," that fiend now pleaded. "Make it stop." He dropped to his knees. "Please."

It wouldn't stop, not until the human was dead. Rage stabbed him three times in controlled bursts of violence, avoiding all vital organs and arteries. The Commander wheezed, blood bubbling between his lips.

He wouldn't last much longer, even with the prolonger. Rage looked at Joan. What did she want to do?

She rose to her booted feet. His crazy female wished to confront her attacker.

Rage eyed the dagger still clenched in the Commander's fingers. That had to go. He sliced through skin and bone, removing the male's hand. The weapon clattered against the floor tile.

"Finish me," the Commander begged. "I can't take any more."

"Yet you were willing to subject my cyborg to much more pain than you're currently experiencing." Joan stood beside Rage, her shoulders back, her boots braced apart. She looked more adorable than fierce and he wanted to lick her all over, starting with the creases between her dainty eyebrows.

"You." The male coughed. "Almost...dead."

"Almost isn't dead." She tucked her hand in Rage's. "You should realize that now."

Her skin was cold. Rage sheathed one of his daggers and linked their fingers, attempting to transfer some of his heat to her.

The Commander's gaze dropped to their joined hands. "M-machine."

"He's more human than you are." She lifted her rounded chin. "You and the yes-males you selected to staff the battle station aren't fit to represent our species. If I had the energy, I'd kill you myself." She gazed at Rage.

She looked to him to be her hands, to do what she hadn't the strength to accomplish. Satisfaction filled Rage. "Now?"

"Now, sir." She looked around the chambers at the other cyborgs. "We've wasted enough of our energy on him. We're free, able to do anything we wish. It's time to start our new lives."

The cyborgs cheered.

Rage shook his head. So much for their vows to hate all humans.

A vow he once shared.

"Stand back, female." He wouldn't have her polluted by the male's blood. Joan obeyed him. Rage raised his dagger. "If you hadn't touched her, you and your kind would have had a quick death."

The Commander's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. "M-machine."

"I'm a cyborg and this is for my female." Rage slit his foe's throat. The human fell face first, twitching on the floor.

Joan moved closer to Rage as he sheathed his dagger. "Thank you." She leaned against him, pressing her curves against his armor. "I needed that closure."

Was closure another word for killing? Rage didn't know. "There will be more of that in our future." He swung his drooping female into his arms. "It's in my design."

"So is breeding, sir." She smiled shyly.

It was. Fraggin' hole. He was a lucky bag of bolts.

### Chapter Fifteen

"I can walk, sir." Joan patted Rage's chest.

He grunted, didn't put her down, striding through the hallways, and she was glad. She hadn't yet fully recovered from her wounds and felt lightheaded.

Watching her cyborg punish the male responsible for her pain had been a surreal experience, one she hadn't fully absorbed. She'd been alone since she was eleven solar cycles. Could it be true that she now had a being protecting her, seeking justice on her behalf?

She stroked the scar on his chin, his gray skin not even damp from his exertion. He was a finely honed weapon and he had killed for her this planet rotation. She wiggled in his arms, aroused by that thought.

"Control yourself, female." His voice deepened. "The explosives have been set and other humans might have been notified. This isn't the time for breeding."

They also weren't alone. Cyborgs watched them as they passed. She distracted herself by studying the warriors. The experts at the Academy led her to believe the beings within the same model run would be identical. That wasn't true. Every male was different, as unique as humans were.

Their mechanics would be the same. The engineer in her was giddy with the possibilities. "I have upgrades for all of them. The latest bulletins held some exciting breakthroughs."

Rage grunted.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. "I guess I won't be receiving any more of those."

"I downloaded the information from the databases." Crash fell into line behind them, a gun in his hands. Gap followed him, gazing over his friend's shoulder.

"That'll hold us for a while." She'd find a way to hack into the systems from wherever her cyborg was taking her. "Did you make the upgrades I suggested to the ship?"

"Yes." Crash grimaced. "The work is sloppy."

"That you got any of it done impresses me." She gave him the flattery he seemed to need. "We can make repairs during the voyage." She'd help, show Rage how useful she could be. "I have more ideas."

Her cyborg snorted and stomped up the ramp to the ship. They took their seats. Rage's chair was well back from the controls. He set her sideways on his lap while Gap and Crash went through the pre-flight routine, closing doors, checking fuel levels, starting the engine.

"You don't fly the ship, do you?" she whispered.

Rage's thick eyebrows lowered. "I can fly it."

"He just can't land it." Crash grinned.

Gap laughed. "Or successfully lift off."

"He's more of an open space sort of pilot." The two were like a comedy duo, their chatter, as Rage would call it, filling in the quiet. "He's really good at blowing things up."

"Including our own ship." Gap gazed forward, guiding the ship out of the docking bay. "No one fights like Rage. Females like skilled fighters."

Not all did but she supposed any female attracted to a cyborg would. "How many females have you met?" Had he been in a breeding program too?

Neither cyborg said anything, their silence suspicious.

"Rage?" She looked to her male for the truth.

"You're their first." His expression was smug.

She was the first female they'd ever seen. Joan realized then how imprisoned they'd been, how cut off they'd been from everything other than fighting, subjected to engineers, guards, a Commander who abused them, not knowing tenderness or affection.

"I'm honored." And terrified. She was representing all of her sex. "Your females will be two lucky beings."

"You talk like we will have females." Gap's tone was glum. "There are many males and not many females."

"On the battle station." The ship exited the structure and entered the blackness of space. "I grew up on an agri lot and there were two females for every male there."

"Two females for every male," he repeated, awe in his voice.

Joan swallowed her amusement. "One of my friends took a birthing class at the Academy. There were one hundred females and _no_ males."

"Fraggin' hole." Those odds impressed Crash. "Were they all soft like you?"

Soft? She gazed down at her curves, accustomed to being overlooked because of her excess weight. Did the cyborgs value plumpness? "Many were. They care for other beings' offspring."

The two cyborgs exchanged a glance. "They'll need warriors to protect them and might not wish offspring of their own." Excitement buoyed Gap's words. "Where do we find these females?"

Joan blinked. Were they planning to hunt the entire birthing class down?

"We lead the others to the Homeland first." Rage saved her from answering. "Set that as our course."

The males grumbled yet obeyed. She gazed up at him with admiration. Her cyborg might not fly the ship, but he was in charge, a dominant male amongst dominant males.

"You could have your choice of females, sir." Was he with her because he cared for her or because she'd been the only female available to him?

"You _are_ my choice." Rage frowned. "Am I yours? I cannot give you offspring of your own."

"I knew that when we met, sir." She touched his chin. "Offspring aren't necessary." Though she did adore them. "You are more than enough for any female."

The lines around his mouth eased. "Sleep. I plan to use you hard once we're away from danger."

Her face heated. "The others will hear you, sir."

"It's a small ship." His eyes sparkled. "They'll soon hear _you_. You'll lose yourself in our breeding as you always do, screaming my name again and again, telling the worlds who's inside you."

"Sir," she squeaked, pressing her hot cheek against his body armor. "I have to install some sort of sound suppression in our chambers. That's our first priority."

"I'll add that to our task list." Crash laughed, unabashedly eavesdropping on their private conversion.

Cursed cyborg hearing. She frowned.

"Cease your chatter, female." Rage petted her hair, his touch gentle, soothing her. "Save your strength." He might be the fiercest of all warriors yet he treated her with a heart-melting tenderness.

"What is the Homeland, sir?" Joan had heard the other cyborgs whisper about it when they passed, eagerness and excitement lifting their voices.

"It's not for us." He rested his chin on the top of her head.

Why wasn't it for them and why did he sound so sad? "But—"

"It's time." Crash tapped the controls. An image of the battle station filled the viewscreen. She shifted so she could better see it.

"Are all cyborg ships a safe distance away?" Rage asked.

"They're out of range."

Joan slipped her palm into her cyborg's. They waited and waited and waited. She opened her mouth to ask for a countdown.

A series of explosions rocked the battle station, moving from one end to the other, tearing through its frame. The flames were a dazzling array of reds, yellows, and oranges. Metal and other debris splintered from the structure, eating away at its integrity more and more.

Joan jumped as the viewscreen blazed with a white light. When it faded, there was nothing left. The image was the blackness of space.

The battle station was gone.

"It's over." Part of her couldn't believe it.

"It's over." Rage cuddled her closer to him, to his tantalizing heat. "You're safe. They can't hurt you anymore."

They couldn't hurt him either. "You're free."

"We're free." He stroked her arm. "Now, sleep."

They'd discuss the Homeland later, when she was rested. Joan closed her eyes. Her thoughts dissipated as she drifted into sunlit dreamland.

* * *

She bathed in the sunlight for seemingly endless moments, the rays warming her bare skin. Her mind was fuzzy. A smile curled her lips.

Then the light, the heat faded and the darkness gripped her. With the night came loneliness and fear. Bad things were about to happen. She knew this in her heart, in her soul.

A pop echoed through the space and shards of agony branched out from her shoulder. The crunch that followed was equally loud. Unbearable pain shot up her arm. She screamed and writhed and fought, trying to escape it.

"Shhh...I'm back." Firm hands clasped her arms. "I'm here." She was pressed against warm skin, hard muscle. "I have you."

"Rage." Joan breathed in his distinctive scent, her heart pounding. "Don't leave me, sir." She climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, clinging to him.

"I won't. Never again." He rubbed her back, up, down, up, down. "You dozed off in my arms. Logic told me that you'd be more comfortable on one of those sleeping supports the other humans use. I didn't want to crowd you."

"Crowd me. I don't want to be alone. When you touch me, the darkness doesn't get me." She realized she was talking nonsense but she couldn't remain silent.

"I'm touching you now." Rage splayed his fingers, covering more of her bare skin. They were both naked, nothing separating them, the full body contact easing her fears.

She should be the one caring for him. "You must think I'm foolish."

"With one brush of your palm, my anger fades." He circled her wrists, raised her hands to his face, and kissed each fingertip. "I feel a peacefulness I've never known." His blue eyes gleamed. "Is that foolish?"

"No, sir." She gazed at him, caught by the emotion reflecting in his rugged face. Rage looked back at her, want and need building, building, building.

"Joan." He surged forward and captured her lips, his sensual attack hard and fierce. She gasped. He pushed deep, forcing her to open wider to him.

They dueled for dominance. She knew she wouldn't win yet she tried anyway, sucking on his tongue, sinking her fingers into his long hair. Her lips hummed. Her jaw ached. Her worlds narrowed to him, to this big, brutish cyborg before her.

Rage curved his hands under her ass and stood, lifting her easily. With two strides, he had her back pressed against a cool metal wall, her shoulders pinned by his weight. Stars. He was powerful. She moaned her appreciation into his mouth.

He grunted a reply and rocked against her, rubbing his shaft over her pussy lips, wetting his flesh. His rim skimmed along her clit. The scar on his cock added decadent texture. All of her senses snapped and sizzled.

"You want me." Rage drew his hips back, found her entrance.

"Yes, sir." She'd never wanted any being as much as she wanted him.

He pushed into her and met her gaze, pausing with only his cock head engulfed in her heat. "Which male do you want?"

He was a possessive, primitive cyborg and he wanted every being on the ship to know he owned her. "Rage, sir." She wouldn't fight him on this. It was the truth. "I want Rage inside me."

He huffed and slid deeper but not far enough. She wiggled, trying to tempt him.

"Be still, female." He swatted her ass, she clenched around him, and they both groaned. "The others may talk with you. You may upgrade their mechanics. But you breed with me and with me alone."

She blinked. He was giving her permission to upgrade the mechanics of other cyborgs? She never thought he'd agree so easily to that. "You're the only male I'll breed with, sir."

Rage sank farther into her, again stopping frustratingly short. "Ever."

Fuck. He was torturing her. "Rage is the only male I will ever breed with," Joan shouted so the entire ship could hear her. "I will never love another being as much as I love C899321. He owns my body, my heart, my soul." Her gaze locked with his. "Enough chatter. You vowed to use me hard. Keep your vow."

Rage grinned. "You're ferocious, female." He drove into her, smacking her ass against the wall, the sting sharp and exciting. "A good match for a C model cyborg."

"I'm...a...perfect...match." She panted as he rode her vigorously, not giving her a chance to catch her breath. Skin slapped against skin, his muscles providing little cushion between her and the metal plates protecting his body.

A rush of energy lit his eyes, casting a shadow on his harsh countenance, accentuating his scars, his blunt features. Joan dug her heels into his clenched ass cheeks, encouraging him to ravish her with more of his strength.

She hadn't been lying when she said he'd be the only being she'd ever breed with. Even if he discarded her, traded her for a female of his own kind, she'd remain faithful to him, knowing that no male would ever compete. He'd reshaped her body to fit his cock, bound her happiness to his.

Rage was her destiny. She arched into him, flattening her breasts against his chest. He was the reason C345925 had saved her. It didn't guarantee them a future together. His sadness surrounding the Homeland bothered her. But right here, right now was enough, more than she'd ever had.

He thrust again and again. Her sweat covered both of them, making his gray skin shine like polished metal. Their scents entwined, complementing each other. She clasped his shoulders, reveling in the undulation of his fit physique. He could defend their private sanctuary, this tiny chamber on board the ship, against any being.

And she would stand by his side. Joan licked the vein pulsing on his right pec, tasting salt and metal, and a rumble rolled up his chest, his pace increasing.

They fucked like two wild creatures, unencumbered by any masters, any rules. They were free. Joan no longer reported to a sadistic Commander, didn't have to look over her shoulder, watching for threats in the darkness. Rage didn't have to fight wars he didn't believe in, didn't have to breed with females he'd never met before.

He chose to breed with her. That could be out of necessity. She was the only female on the ship. But no one else dictated his actions and that warmed Joan's chest. He didn't need her help to escape, didn't require her to complete maintenance on him.

He was with her because he wanted to be with her.

"Rage." She reached upward. He rounded his back, lowering his scarred face and she sucked on his square chin. His lips curled upward and his cock swelled inside her.

The first shudder was slight, the gentlest of quivers progressing outward from her pussy, zipping up her chest, along her arms and legs. Rage thrust into her, his rhythm steady and sure and, with each drive forward, her tremors grew in intensity, rising, a crescendo of yearning within her.

Joan's ears buzzed with sound. Her pussy pulsed with wanting. She leaned her head back and called his name to the same tempo, her voice stretched with desire.

Rage joined her erotic symphony, grunting "Joan, Joan, Joan", his choice of word propelling her to the brink of release. Lost in passion, he didn't see her as a replaceable female. He wanted her and only her.

"Rage?" She shook, fighting the urge to come.

"Let go." Her cyborg filled her pussy with his hard cock. "I have you." He rotated his hips, the sensual grind severing her hold on reality.

She screamed his name, hitched her hips, taking him deeper, and squeezed his shaft with her inner walls. He roared, jerking forward, bathing her with hot spurts of cum. The relentless caress of his nanocybotics drew another round of mind-destroying ecstasy.

Joan fought to escape him. Rage didn't allow this, restraining her body with his, holding her still.

"Yes. Oh. Please. Sir. I," she babbled gibberish against his chest.

"Did I break you, little female?" He carried her to the sleeping support and climbed onto the surface, not releasing her.

"Did I break _you_ , sir?" She snuggled on top of him. "You told me I could upgrade the other cyborgs' mechanics."

He scowled. "Crash and Gap wouldn't give me peace until I agreed. You touch them. They will _not_ touch you."

She smiled. His tolerance only extended so far. "I don't want them to touch me, sir." She remained wary of other beings. "Will they be leaving us when we reach the Homeland?"

There was a long pause. Her cyborg might be an early model but he wasn't stupid. He must know she was searching for information.

"They say they won't," he finally answered.

"But you don't believe them." She lifted her head to gaze at Rage. Lines were etched between his eyebrows. He didn't want to part ways with his friends.

The solution was for all of them to stay in the Homeland but, for some reason, he said this mythical place wasn't for him and for her. Which didn't make sense because it sounded like all of the other cyborgs were welcome there.

All of the other _cyborgs_.

Shit.

"If you hadn't met me, would you stay in your Homeland?"

"I met you." Rage tightened his grip on her.

His avoidance of an answer told her everything she needed to know. Humans weren't welcome in their precious Homeland. Joan's heart twisted. She couldn't ask Rage to give up everything—his friends, his sense of belonging, his home—to be with her.

When they reached his Homeland, she'd have to let him go.

### Chapter Sixteen

Twenty-one planet rotations with no fighting and he was still sane. She was the cause. Rage watched Joan as she fiddled with Gap's thigh mechanics, the two of them chattering away, smiles on their faces. She was so beautiful, so his.

_Intrepid sent these for her._ Crash plunked a handful of nourishment bars on his console. He was dressed in a flight suit, as were Joan and Gap.

Rage was naked. He stretched out his legs. The largest garment Crash found on the battle station didn't fit him. Humans were tiny beings. His gaze returned to his little female. _Intrepid is besotted with her._

_Every cyborg in our fleet is besotted with her. Even Chuckles, that grim human-hating bag of bolts, inquired after her, asked if she could look at that knee he's always complaining about._ Crash flopped into the seat beside him. _And the bars might be needed. Human female nourishment consumption is erratic. The first planet rotation, she ate one bar when she woke, barely finishing it. When she woke this planet rotation, she ate six._

_Six?_ Rage stared at Joan. That equaled his consumption and she was half his size. Fear skittered through him. "Female, are you ill?"

"No, sir." She cast a dark glance at Crash. "Is this about the nourishment bars? I didn't mean to eat so many but I was ravenous, and once I ate one, I couldn't stop." She closed Gap's thigh compartment and straightened.

Her flight suit was stretched tight around her breasts and stomach. Her extra curves appealed to Rage but he wouldn't risk her health to gain them.

"Is that level of hunger normal?" He knew very little about human females.

"Is breeding three times a planet rotation normal?" Her cheeks turned an enchanting shade of pink.

She was breeding with a C Model cyborg. His fears eased. It was logical that she'd eat like one. "Come here." He patted his bare thighs.

She hurried to his side and he pulled her onto his lap.

"Satisfy your hunger." Rage handed her a protein bar. "Chuckles wishes for you to repair his knee. Other human handlers have tried."

"They obviously didn't try hard enough." She munched on the bar and chattered about the upgrades she'd like to perform on the war-battered cyborg.

Rage listened to her flow of words, breathing in her womanly scent. It had changed over the past couple of planet rotations, become even more tantalizing. He inhaled deeply and warmth spread across his chest. She smelled like home, like happiness.

He stroked her messy brown curls, watched the emotions flit across her face. Every third or fourth sentence, she touched his chest, his cheek, his shoulder, as though to reinforce their connection, to assure herself that he was there. He doubted she was aware of what she was doing.

He was, very much so, the flit of her fingertips heating him down to his circuits, making his huge cyborg heart stop and start.

"Are we close to the Homeland, sir?" Shadows darkened her big brown eyes. Joan asked that question every planet rotation.

She worried. He did also. He had proposed privately to the other cyborgs that they land on a nearby trading planet, that Gap and Crash lead the fleet to the Homeland, and he stay with his little human. His friends refused to leave them, Gap babbling about finding females of their own, ignorant of the risks to Joan.

Rage was certain they would change their minds once they saw the Homeland, once the cyborgs living there embraced them. He couldn't deny them that future.

"We can see the Homeland." He pointed to the left of the main viewscreen. A blanket of stars was laid across a backdrop of black. "That's its sun."

"It has only one, sir?" She wiggled, driving her ass deeper into his already tormented groin. "Depending on the distance from that sun, the planet could be cooler, ideal for a variety of crops."

Rage's lips twitched. Once an agri lot female, always an agri lot female. "I'm not interested in crops."

"I can't picture you tending the fields." She grinned and a fierce joy seized him, her happiness feeding his. "There could be large predators to hunt."

"Unarmed animals hold little challenge." He needed the thrill of battling an intelligent foe.

"Hmmm..." Her lips twisted. "There will be other cyborgs with the same desires, sir. I'm certain they—"

"An A Class warship is approaching us." Crash brought the image on the viewscreen. The vessel was unmarked, well-armed, and twenty times the size of theirs.

"Are they cyborgs?" If they weren't, the only option was retreat.

"Don't yet know." His friend shrugged. "I'm performing a life-form scan."

"They're hailing us." Gap plugged into the console.

"Open hailing frequencies." Rage wrapped his arms around Joan.

A face filled the main viewscreen.

_He's a cyborg_ , Crash informed him unnecessarily.

_I see that._ Rage was surrounded by fools.

"Greetings." The cyborg was another C model, his face as primitive as his but lacking his scars. "Welcome to cyborg-controlled space. I'm Vector, the captain of the Freedom."

"I'm Rage. This is Crash." He waved his hand at his friend. "Gap." The young cyborg grinned. "And my female, Joan." He made their relationship clear. "We're leading a fleet of six hundred and twelve cyborgs."

Vector nodded. "We will guide you into the Homeland but first, we must clear the contents of your ships. We detect no tracking devices. There is one unauthorized vegetation."

"Windy," Joan whispered.

"Hail Green," Rage instructed, dreading this conversation. The cyborg had formed an emotional bond with the scraggly plant he'd found on the Mantidae's migratory planet, caring for it with a tenderness Rage mocked...before he met Joan.

"I will jettison Windy." Green's mouth drooped. He had, thankfully, been listening. There was no reason to wrangle with words.

"No." his little female gasped, gripping Rage's hands.

"As I was telling you two planet rotations ago, Joan, she isn't faring well on this voyage," Green shared. "It doesn't matter what I do. She loses leaves, is turning brown."

"It's the light source. I'm certain about it." His fighter of a female wasn't making this tough decision easier for the cyborg.

"It could be," Green admitted. "But it might be too late to save her. Barrel claims she's already gone." He looked away from viewscreen, his throat moving. "Give me a moment with her."

"We'll wait for as long as you need," Joan spoke for all of them.

Rage should admonish her. He was in charge of the operation. But she was right. They'd wait for as long as Green needed.

"He's devastated, sir." Her voice sounded watery.

"Are you crying again?" Last planet rotation, she'd cried because he calibrated his guns to shoot with her fingerprints. He cupped her chin, turning her face toward him. She _was_ weeping. He brushed the tears off her cheeks. Her distress made him want to put his fist through the viewscreen.

"He loves that plant." She hiccupped.

Loves. Rage felt as strongly for her as Green felt for Windy. Did he love his little female? He folded her into his body, unwilling to put words to emotions he wasn't certain about.

"Green will need comforting, sir." She stroked his skin. "Vow to me that you'll reach out to him, try to ease his pain."

Rage grunted. She could comfort the cyborg. He'd kill some being in Windy's honor.

He held Joan. Six heartbeats passed and then her tears stopped as suddenly as they started, a soft smile curling her lips.

Human females were complex beings. He petted her curly hair. He didn't understand them.

"It's done," Barrel, Green's shipmate, announced. "This blasted Homeland had better be worth it."

Rage didn't know if it was. He'd never been there. "The unauthorized vegetation has been disposed of," he informed Vector, his voice curt.

"The human female also has to be disposed of."

"That will _not_ happen." Rage straightened, viewing the instruction as a threat to his female. "Joan and I won't be landing on the planet. We escorted the fleet to cyborg-controlled space. Gap and Crash will be transferred to another ship. And then we'll immediately exit the space."

"We're staying with you." Crash's eyes flashed.

"Rage, sir, it's okay." Joan took his hands. "This is your Homeland, your home. Deposit me on the nearest inhabited planet. I'll be fine."

"I won't be fine," he yelled, unable to lower his volume. "If you're not welcome in the Homeland, I want no part of it."

"Neither do I," Intrepid joined the transmission. "I want a human female of my own."

The others chimed in.

"We're retrieving Windy." Barrel's eyes flashed. "If she's not welcome in the Homeland, we want no part of it either."

"Stop," Joan shouted, surprising Rage with her big voice. "You are _all_ entering the Homeland. Vector, tell them how great it will be, how there will be breeding and fighting and everything else they enjoy."

Vector blinked, clearly unaccustomed to a little female telling him what to do. "There are training exercises."

"Frag training exercises." Rage spat. That the cyborg thought they were the same thing illustrated how long it had been since he'd been in a real fight.

The captain's lips twisted. "Only cyborgs are allowed on the planet. We don't fight each other."

"You will if I inhabit your planet." His interest in the Homeland decreased even more. "I'm a C Model cyborg as you are. We're designed for breeding and fighting."

The others grumbled.

Vector tilted his head, his expression calculating. "There are few C Models left and you've proven yourself by escaping the humans and leading this fleet. The female cyborgs would be interested in breeding with you."

Rage met the cyborg's gaze through the viewscreen. "Will they kneel naked at my feet, promise to serve me forever, tell me how much they love me multiple times a planet rotation?"

Vector looked doubtful.

"They will, in time." Joan's voice was choked. "How could they not? You're big and strong yet can be gentle and sweet." One of the cyborgs sniggered. "You're everything a female could want in a male."

"Listen to the human." Vector nodded. "And you could train other cyborgs in combat."

Again with the training. Rage stared at him. It wasn't the same and, even if it was, he was no teacher. He'd lose his patience within two planet rotations and kill the youngsters.

"I know." Joan held up her index finger. "You could help other cyborgs escape. That would require fighting."

His little female was cunning. Rage gazed at her with open appreciation. "Rescuing them requires leaving the Homeland." He could keep his female _and_ indulge his need for action.

"Oh." Her excitement faded. "But—"

"Intrepid, prepare to be boarded." He devised a plan. "Crash and Gap, you'll transfer to his ship." Crash opened his mouth, protests reflecting in his flat black eyes. "You'll gather the needed intelligence and resources from the cyborg council. We'll wait for you on the next planet and—"

"The human female must be disposed of," Vector repeated his earlier order. "Either she's to be killed or imprisoned. We won't allow her to exit controlled space. She knows too much about us."

No being would touch his female. Rage glowered at the cyborg, one wrong word away from losing his temper.

Crash cast him a warning glance. "And if we don't comply?"

"We'll be forced to take action."

_They've raised their shields._ Crash transmitted through their private line. _They plan to fire on us._

_Raise our shields also._ It wouldn't hold against the larger ship's firepower but it would send the message that they were just as serious. He wasn't allowing them to kill his female.

And he didn't have any doubts that they'd kill her. They didn't know her, thought she was like the humans who had tormented them.

Once she was out of his sight, he'd never see her again. She'd disappear.

"We're with you, Rage." Intrepid's face appeared on a corner of the viewscreen.

_The other ships have raised their shields_ , Crash informed him.

"It's an A Class warship." Rage didn't have to say more. Intrepid was an intelligent cyborg. He knew they wouldn't survive. It was doubtful any of their projectiles would pierce the larger ship's shields.

"She risked her life to save us." Intrepid lifted his chin. "I can think of no better reason to die."

"No one is dying." Joan squirmed, pushing at his arms. "Rage, stop this."

He wouldn't let her go.

"Tell your fleet to stand down," Vector barked.

"They're free cyborgs." Rage shrugged. "The only orders they follow are their own."

"You'd die for a human?"

"She'd die for us." He accessed the ship's weapons. "Cyborgs have as much honor as humans."

"More," Crash added.

"Are all of your processors malfunctioning?" Joan slipped out of his arms, turned and glared at him. "That's an A Class warship. We're traveling in shuttle craft."

"Modified shuttle craft," Crash corrected.

"Did you install bigger guns? An enhanced shield?" She waved her hands. "No? I didn't either. We can't outrun the warship, outmaneuver it, outgun it. One hit and we're dead. How does getting ourselves blown up help any of us?"

Frag. She was fierce. Rage gaped at her with admiration.

Her gaze shifted back to him. "I expected this lack of logic from you, my primitive C Model cyborg, but Crash? Gap? I'm disappointed in you."

The two cyborgs hung their heads.

"We—"

"I'll get to you later." Joan shut down whatever Vector planned to say. "We only have one option at the moment."

Rage knew what that option was and he didn't like it. "I'm not allowing them to touch you."

"Of course not." She rolled her eyes. "I'll make that a stipulation of my surrender."

"Stipulation?" Vector scowled. "There will be no stipulations."

"There will be." Joan matched his expression, the result more adorable than threatening. "And you'll agree to them because the alternative is killing six hundred and fifteen of your newly freed cyborg brethren. When the others hear about that, and they will because we can transmit as easily as you can, there will be fighting in your precious Homeland."

"I'm in love." Gap's humanlike eyes glowed.

"I'd follow your female anywhere, Rage," Intrepid mused.

Rage wasn't as entertained. His little engineer was, once again, risking her life to save theirs. He'd left her side once and she'd almost died. Stipulations or not, he didn't trust any other being with her safety.

"We'll negotiate your stipulations on board the Freedom." Lines were etched around Vector's mouth. "Prepare to disembark. We're pulling you in."

The cyborg wasn't waiting for permission. The ship shuddered as it was caught in the guiding beam.

Rage debated their options.

Being brought into the larger ship could work to their advantage. They'd be parked in the docking bay. If Vector betrayed them, breaking the temporary peace, the battle would then shift from warship versus shuttle craft to cyborg versus cyborg.

Face-to-face combat was where he excelled. He rolled back his shoulders, his joints cracking. "Fetch me my body armor, female."

"Yes, sir." She rushed out of the bridge.

"How can we help?" Intrepid asked.

"Maneuver as close to the warship as possible." Their private transmission lines should project to the nearest ship. "I'll keep my lines open." What he saw and heard, they would also.

"I'll keep _my_ lines open," Crash corrected. "They'll be focused on you and on Joan. I'll have more freedom."

"Agreed." His friend's logic was sound. "Intrepid can relay the information to the ships in farther locations."

"I will." The cyborg dipped his head. "Good luck, males. Keep her safe."

Rage would or he'd die trying.

### Chapter Seventeen

"The way they offered to die for me, it was foolish of them." Joan knelt at Rage's booted feet, struggling to control her emotions. "But it meant so much to me."

Her hormones were crazy, which led her to overeat, which, in turn, didn't help her hormone issue. She suspected the cause was Rage's nanocybotics. She bubbled over with them. But she didn't want to suggest that. Her overprotective male would never touch her again.

The overeating had to stop, however, whatever the cause. She could no longer fasten her flight suit over her protruding belly. Her stretched-tight skin showed through the gap in the fabric.

That was how she'd be negotiating—with her stomach showing. Her bottom lip quivered as the ship shook. It was too late to find an alternate garment. They had landed.

Rage ran his hands over his guns, daggers, sword. His weapons check alarmed her. The other ship was much larger, would hold hundreds, perhaps thousands of cyborgs. Any battle would end in his death.

"Negotiating requires talking, not violence, sir." Joan gazed up at her warrior. "I know you haven't killed any being in a while, but—"

"If they try to separate us or touch you or disrespect you in any way, my non-killing streak will end." His blue eyes glowed.

She sighed. He was looking for a fight. "You can't protect me if you're dead."

"Stand." He grabbed her wrists and lifted her to her feet. "What happens to you happens to me." Her cyborg made no comment on her exposed skin. "Remember that when you're negotiating."

Joan frowned. What did _that_ mean? "You no longer have to link yourself to me, sir." She didn't want him to throw away his future because he felt honor bound to her. "You're free, could find another female, a being other cyborgs would accept and—"

"I will never be free of you." Rage lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. She opened to him, seeking to draw him into her mouth. He resisted her silent plea, pulling away too soon. "All the cyborgs in our fleet accept you. The others." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "It doesn't matter what they process. I don't know them."

That was the problem. Joan's heart twisted. He didn't know them or what he might be missing. He hadn't set foot on his Homeland, hadn't met a female cyborg who wanted him of her free will. When he did, he'd walk away from her.

The door opened and the ramp lowered. "I'll exit first." Rage lifted his biggest gun. "You'll follow behind me. Crash and Gap will protect our rear."

He spoke as through they were entering a battlefield, not surrendering. "Vow to me that you won't shoot first, sir."

"I won't shoot first," Rage agreed too quickly for Joan's comfort. He stomped down the ramp. She trailed him, carrying her own gun, and blinked as they entered the brightness of the docking bay.

Heavily armed cyborgs lined a narrow pathway. Vector was as cautious as Rage.

They approached the other C Model cyborg. He didn't affect her, didn't invoke the instant arousal Rage did. That proved to Joan that what she felt for her male would never be duplicated.

"The council sent me to greet you because we're the same model." Vector broke the silence. "Logic said I should understand you." He studied Rage. "I don't. Even now, you risk certain death to protect a human female." He moved his perusal to Joan. "I've met several of them. What's special about this one?"

"She's mine," Rage stated as though that explained everything.

They looked at each other, two dominant males sizing each other up. Joan placed her left palm on Rage's back, seeking to calm him.

"Does the fourth cyborg need medical attention?" Vector glanced toward the ship. "Doc?"

A G model cyborg, similar to Gap, clad in a white jacket, stepped forward. "I'll attend to him."

"We'll sweep the space first." Vector gestured to three of the males and they strode toward the ship.

Rage frowned. "There's no fourth cyborg. There are only three of us."

Vector's lips twisted. "There's no point in deception. We performed a life-form scan. You had four cyborgs and one human on board."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Rage stepped forward.

Oh shit. Joan grasped one of his massive arms. "We performed quite a few modifications on the ship. Some of them might have created echoes, interfering with the accuracy of your equipment."

Vector opened his big mouth.

"I know you'd never question the honor of a cyborg." She tried to maintain the fragile peace.

"Fraggin' right," Crash muttered.

"One of the heartbeats was very faint." Doc supported her wild theory.

The three cyborgs returned. "There are no beings inside, sir."

"I'll verify." The medical cyborg hurried forward, withdrawing a handheld device from a coat pocket.

"You called for me, sir." A female cyborg sauntered toward them, her barely there hips swaying. She was tall with high firm breasts and a waist Joan would kill for. Her skin was the lightest shade of gray, her hair long and black, her eyes brilliant blue.

She was absolutely gorgeous, fit into her flight suit, and would be welcome in their Homeland. Joan's heart twisted. The cyborg was perfect for Rage. He had to have noticed that.

"A female," Gap breathed.

"Where's the rest of her?" Crash's question lightened Joan's darkening mood.

"Sky, this is Rage." Vector's expression was smug. "Rage led a fleet of six hundred and fourteen cyborgs to freedom."

Hmmm..." The female's eyelashes fluttered. "Brave and a C model too." She skimmed one of her fingernails along his armor-covered chest. "I like that."

Joan folded her fingers into fists, fighting the urge to slap her, to reinforce her claim on her big male. This was for the best. He'd fall in love with one of his own kind, build a life in his Homeland, forget about his little human female.

"You allow your female to touch other males?" Rage didn't sound impressed.

"Oh, warrior." Sky exchanged an amused glance with Vector. "He's not my male." She stepped closer. "But you could be." She gave him the full frontal press, flattening her breasts against his chest.

Rage stepped backward. "Touch me again and I'll kill you."

Joan's heart twisted. He'd threatened to kill her when they first met, also.

"You don't mean that." Sky's laughter was husky.

"I mean every word." Rage lowered his gun, aiming it at her chest.

Sky blinked. "You want me. I can—" Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. "Fraggin' hole. I don't smell any arousal." All of the softness in her beautiful face disappeared. "How dare you not be attracted to me." She glared at him.

"I dare." Rage drew himself up to his full height. "I belong to Joan Tull."

"Oh." Joan sucked back a sob, his declaration touching her heart.

"You want her?" Sky circled him, and Joan, feeling a tremor of fear, clutched her gun tighter. "She's a human. I'm a cyborg. I was designed to stimulate you."

"You don't." Rage pulled Joan behind him. "You won't disrespect my female."

That was one of the actions he vowed to kill over. "You can't blame her for desiring you, sir." Joan tried to ease her cyborg's anger. "You're a powerful C model cyborg, the greatest warrior I've ever known. Many females will envy me."

"She's scaring you." His voice was gruff.

"She's scaring me," Gap admitted. "Females should be soft."

Crash muttered something Joan couldn't hear.

"Say that to my face, E model." The female cyborg turned to confront him. "If you have the mechanics to—"

"Sky, leave us," Vector barked.

She opened her mouth.

"Now." His tone didn't allow for discussion.

Sky cast a threatening look at Crash and complied, flouncing away from them. Joan watched her exit the docking bay. "You called for her, thinking she'd seduce Rage."

Her big cyborg growled.

"It was worth an attempt." Vector appeared sheepish. "Sky has swayed the most determined cyborg."

She didn't sway hers. Joan leaned into Rage. He angled his body backward, as though seeking more of her touch.

"They're right." Doc wandered out of the ship, his gaze on his handheld's small screen. "There are no more beings inside. That's strange."

"No stranger than a cyborg forming an attachment to a human female." Vector pivoted on his booted heels. "Follow me. We'll discuss the stipulations of your surrender in my working chambers." He walked quickly through the docking bay.

They trailed him. "You aren't asking us to disarm?" Suspicion edged Rage's voice.

"Would you disarm if I asked you to?"

"No."

"Then what would be the point?" Doors opened and shut around them. "I'm not the enemy, Rage. We have the rules for a reason. Many cyborgs would attack a human on sight. Is that the fate you wish for your female?"

She'd never be welcome in their Homeland. Joan's shoulders slumped.

"Then let us go." Rage, again, offered to walk away from his new home for her. "Joan wouldn't betray us. I give you my vow."

"I don't have the authority to let you go." Vector sounded genuinely regretful. "But I can vow that no being will harm her while she's imprisoned. You can petition the council to make an exception for her, to give her permission to leave."

She doubted they would ever allow that. She knew too much. Joan blew out her breath. She'd be imprisoned for her entire lifespan.

"I don't need your vow. I know no being will harm her because I'll be standing by her side at all times, making certain of that." Rage glanced over his shoulder at her. "Where you go, I go, little female."

"You can't give up your freedom for me." She wouldn't allow that.

Rage grunted. He was an obstinate cyborg.

They entered a being mover. He slid behind her, wrapping his arms around her smaller form, curving his palms over her stomach. His heat soothed her. Gap, Crash, Doc, and three of the cyborg guards crowded around her.

Joan stared at backs and chests, all of the cyborgs taller than her, all of them male. She folded farther into Rage's body, trusting him to protect her.

The door closed. "Life-threatening condition detected," a robotic voice chimed, a red light on the wall flashing. "Medical staff has been notified."

"What is the state of your injury?" A face appeared on a viewscreen on the wall.

No one answered. Joan looked around her. She was too short to see any being other than the cyborgs positioned immediately in front of her.

"Is some being injured?" Doc asked.

Silence stretched.

"What's the nature of the emergency reported?" he asked the projected male.

"A weaker than optimal heartbeat has been detected, sir."

"That's the same anomaly." Doc's forehead wrinkled. "Run a detailed analysis." He met Vector's gaze. "And redirect the being mover to the isolation level."

Vector's lips flattened. "Contagion is a possibility?"

Rage's grip on her tightened.

"The humans have been known to use viral weapons." Doc glanced at Joan and her face heated. They thought she was responsible for this. "We'll isolate the source."

Isolate was code for kill. Sweat trickled down her spine. "Can't you use your handheld device to detect it?"

"It's not that exact." Doc shook his head. "The device detects all of the life-forms within a specific radius. It doesn't narrow the life-form's location."

"Oh." That wouldn't help them. Joan turned the problem over in her mind. Could the Humanoid Alliance have added a kill switch in cyborgs, should they try to escape? Had she missed something? "Crash, did you run across anything about kill switches or viral weapons in the database?"

"Nothing." Rage's friend pushed closer to her. "Could the virus have been implanted when we were manufactured?"

"It could have been, but why would it be implanted in only one of you?" She covered Rage's hands with hers. "And why would it result in a secondary heartbeat?"

"Two hearts would require double the energy and double the nourishment," Doc pointed out. "If that wasn't supplied, the cyborg would operate sub-optimally. Have any of you experienced unusual exhaustion or hunger recently?"

" _We_ haven't." Crash looked at Joan.

Her stomach chose that time to growl. "I'm not a cyborg." She shook her head. "Does any being here have a nourishment bar?"

Rage handed her one.

"I love you." She unwrapped the bar and bit into it. "Have I told you that lately?"

"Twice this planet rotation." His eyes glimmered.

"How do you know you're not a cyborg?" Gap leaned forward, sniffing the air. "You smell like one."

"She smells like me," Rage rumbled. "Because I breed with her three times a planet rotation. And, no, as I've told you multiple times, breeding with a human female can't change her into a cyborg."

The cyborg guards sniggered.

Joan popped the last piece of bar into her mouth, swallowing sweetness and her embarrassment. Complete strangers now knew how often they were breeding. "Let's focus on this virus problem."

"The results of the detailed analysis aren't logical, sir." The projected male returned.

"Relay them," Doc instructed.

"The heart is currently twenty percent the size of a normal organ yet beats twice as quickly. It belongs to an undetermined cyborg male."

Doc's eyebrows lifted. "It doesn't match any existing models?"

"No, sir, but that isn't the most illogical part. It's situated in the middle of the space. There's a human heart beating a quarter of a G model torso above it."

Every cyborg looked at her.

"I knew it," Gap crowed. "She's a cyborg."

"I'm not a cyborg." She realized then what that meant. Oh fuck. "I'm the being infected." She tried to step away from Rage, not wanting to spread her illness to him. He wouldn't release her. "I don't want to hurt you, sir."

"The damage is already done." Rage turned her within the circle of his arms. "We'll survive this, female." He pressed her face against his body armor. "Because that's who we are."

"Survivors," she mumbled against the hard material. "I'm sorry, sir."

He grunted, rubbing her back.

"Every being in this being mover and in the docking bay will be isolated until we determine if it is viral and how it is transferred." Doc tapped his fingers against his handheld. "Did you have any contact with the other ships?"

Joan groaned. "I had contact with all of them. I put every cyborg in danger." How could this have happened? "Could the humans have implanted me during the attack, Rage?"

"They didn't expect you to live." He dismissed that theory. "They planned on me killing you."

"We'll uncover how later." Vector bent his head over his handheld device. "Until the threat is over, I won't grant clearance for the ships to land. We're officially on lockdown."

Because of her. Joan cringed. She might have killed them all.

### Chapter Eighteen

Rage wanted to go back in time and kill the humans on the battle station a second time, inflicting more pain upon them. His female was ill, infected by the rectal wipes.

He paced their shared chambers, moving back and forth, back and forth, needing to take action, any action.

Joan sat on a horizontal support, munching on a nourishment bar as she watched him. Between bites, she chattered about carriers and incubation periods and other things he didn't fully understand.

They were together, and, for that, he was grateful. Doc had suggested separating them. One look at Rage's face had rerouted his processors. The cyborg had placed them in these chambers and retreated to prepare, whatever that meant.

_Crash._ Rage transmitted over their private line. _Do you require assistance?_

Every word echoed. He frowned. That had never happened before now.

_Not yet but judging by Vector's face, we might soon._ The resonance continued. _They placed all of us in the same chambers and you know how C models enjoy crowded spaces._ Even Crash's chuckle repeated.

_Do you hear that?_ It wasn't normal. Rage glanced at Joan, his suspicions knotting his stomach.

The echo? Yes. What's causing that?

Rage could think of only one cause. _I'm infected. I'm closing down my transmissions. It's too late for me but it might not be for you. Goodbye, my friend. Fight well._

Rage—

He closed the line. Fraggin' hole. The virus had entered his processors. He didn't have much time left and he knew how he wanted to spend it. Rage stalked toward Joan, stripping off his body armor with each step. "Female."

She'd unfastened her flight suit as it had been restricting her breathing. The glimpse of pale skin through the gaps in the fabric hardened his cock.

"Sir?" Joan gazed up at him, love reflecting in her eyes.

He captured her face between his hands and covered her lips with his, kissing her, knowing it might be the last time. She opened to him as she always did, following his unspoken commands, and their tongues twined, tangled. She tasted of sweetness and female and even when his processors fractured, he knew he'd never forget her.

She was a part of him. He pushed her flight suit over her shoulders, baring more of her skin. Joan murmured against his lips, lifted her hips, allowing him to remove the garment completely.

No other female would have surrendered like that to him, without a single protest, with no hesitation. He mouthed over Joan's rounded chin, down her neck, feeling the pulse of her veins against his tongue.

No other female smelled as good. He inhaled her unique scent. He'd been angered when the cyborg female dared to touch him. He belonged to Joan. Only she had that right.

He cupped her breasts, relishing their weight, their softness, and she moaned, arching into his palms, her responsiveness exciting him. Rage laved his tongue over the swell of her curves, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. She filled the silence with words of encouragement, sank her fingers into his hair, holding him to her.

He sucked first one nipple and then the other into his mouth, tugging on the taut pinkness, drawing louder cries from his female. Her musky scent intensified. He could taste her need on the tip of his tongue.

He lit that fire within her. He gazed down at her with pride. Vector, that other C Model cyborg, had less scarring, was more skilled with words, yet he'd invoked no desire in Joan.

Rage worried her nipple with lip-covered teeth. He was the sole cyborg to arouse her, had aroused her the moment they met, and her need hadn't faded.

"Rage." She bucked, her attempts to dislodge him ineffective and adorable.

"Be still, female." He pressed her backward, onto the horizontal support, and continued his explorations, worshipping her stomach. She was more voluptuous than she'd been this morning and that appealed to his primitive nature.

She was fertile. He didn't have to taste her to know that. Logically, he knew they couldn't create offspring. Instinctively, he was driven to try, to claim her.

He threaded his fingers through the curls covering her mons, enjoying the contrast of brown hair against white skin, and opened her to him.

Frag. He breathed in. Her scent was intoxicating.

Rage pulled her ass to the edge of the horizontal support. She murmured about precarious positioning and falling. He ignored her concerns, bent his head, and licked her from ass to clit.

Joan cried his name, squirming under him. Her flavor exploded on his tongue, straining his already fractured control. His ball ached. His cock was as hard as his favorite dagger.

_Be._ His transmission lines opened. _Be. Be. How. Know. You._ A stream of babble flooded his processors. _You. You. Be._ The tone was happy, the words quick.

He was losing the fight against the mysterious virus. Rage closed the line once more. The transmissions ceased, the only sounds coming from his lust-dazed female.

Thank the designer. He nuzzled against her clit, teasing her with his mouth and tongue, seeking to lose himself in her.

"Yes." She spread her thighs wider, giving him access to more of her.

Rage licked each delicate pink fold, savoring her taste, paying homage to her female form. She was everything a cyborg could want, warm, wet, willing, loving. He poked his tongue into her entrance and she shrieked, clenching her pussy walls around him.

Rage speared into her again and again, searching for more of her moisture, more of her. He wanted to become one with Joan, wanted to climb inside her, to barricade himself within her. Maybe then they could defeat the enemy stalking them, slay the virus chipping away at their lifespans.

Joan rocked against him, holding onto his shoulders, panting, too lost for words. Her inner walls constricted more and more. She needed to come and he yearned to give her that release.

Rage returned his attention to her clit, brushed against the sensitive nub once, twice. Her breath hitched with each slow swipe.

"Joan." He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes widened. His clever female knew what was coming.

Rage fluttered his tongue over her.

She screamed his name and drove her hips upward. A rush of liquid streamed from her pussy. He fastened his lips over her entrance and slurped lustily, tasting her fulfillment, quenching his thirst for her.

She was magnificent, worth the grim future they now faced. He drew her into his arms and rubbed her back, soothing her as she calmed.

_Beeeeee._ The virus screeched across Rage's transmission lines. _Beeeeee. Beeeeee. Beeeeee._ The word drilled at his processors, the volume loud, the tone fraught with an irritating mixture of fear and sadness.

Rage closed the lines, securing them. If the virus continued at this rate, he soon wouldn't remember the code to reopen them. That means of communication would be cut off from him.

He'd be less cyborg, more like his human female.

"I have to breed with you." He couldn't process that fate right now. Rage pushed his hard cock into Joan's pliant pussy, engulfing himself with her softness, her heat.

She tilted her hips, easing the slide, embracing him with a knee-weakening passion. He watched her beautiful face. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed as he took her, sinking into her up to his base.

She felt too good. He gritted his teeth. Her inner walls rippled over his shaft, the aftermath of her first orgasm stripping his restraint.

"Fast." It wouldn't be one of their more leisurely breedings. Rage pulled out to his tip and slammed back into her, jiggling her curves.

"Yes, fast." Joan gripped his shoulders and pulled herself upright. "And hard." She wrapped her legs around his waist.

That was all the permission Rage needed. He rode his female with a relentless determination, retreating, advancing, retreating, advancing, intent on driving the concerns from their minds.

She called for more, more, more, bouncing her heels against his ass, clawing at his shoulders and he gave it to her, unleashing the primal creature inside him.

Was this savage need to own each other due to the virus? It could be. His machine was partially incapacitated, offline, his organic half in control. Joan would sense that, respond to the change in his nanocybotics.

Whatever the reason, the result was magnificent. Her pale skin glistened with sweat. Her curls stuck to her cheeks. The wildness in her eyes called to him.

He increased his pace, swaying the horizontal support with his thrusts. Still she begged for faster, harder. He didn't give it to her. His unwavering need to protect her, to keep his female safe, stopped Rage from using all of his strength.

He couldn't stop the impending release. Rage drove into her, ground down, and as she screamed her release, he came, pumping his seed into her heated pussy. Pleasure ripped its way up his spine, coursed through his veins.

He pushed deeper. Joan fought him, her strength pleasing his inner warrior, and he subdued her with his hips, chest, hands.

"Rage." She became still, her head falling forward, her skin slapping against his chest.

"I love you, Joan." He wanted to say the words before the virus erased them from his processors.

"Do you?" His little female gazed at him with wonder.

"I do." Rage kissed the tip of her nose and she blinked. "I—"

The door opened. He turned, instinctively shielding Joan from the potential threat.

"You're finally finished." Doc helped another cyborg push a machine over the threshold. The newcomer was covered from head to toe with fabric, a mask partially concealing his features. "Surge wanted to interrupt you while you were breeding but I like my skull where it is. Plus, we've never observed a cyborg-human breeding. Are human females always so vocal?"

"No." Rage scowled. Joan was unique. "Keep your distance. I'm infected."

Behind him, his female inhaled sharply, the scent of her fear burning his nostrils.

"How can you be certain?" Doc studied him. Surge, his assistant, touched the protective mask he was wearing, as though to ensure it remained in place. "What are your symptoms?"

"The virus has attacked my processors." Rage felt Joan's soft hands on his bare back. "At first, I heard echoes over my secured transmission lines and then single words, varying in volume and tone."

"Are the words transmitted quickly without ceasing?"

"Yes." The virus talked more than his female.

Doc exchanged a look with his assistant. "We're infected also."

Joan whimpered.

"Instruct your female to lie on the horizontal support and cover her body with this." Doc handed a blue cyborg-sized scanning blanket to Rage. "Hurry. I can't predict how long our processors will continue to function."

"I killed them, Rage." Tears streamed down his female's cheeks. "And I killed you."

"We're survivors," he reminded her. Would they survive this? He didn't know. Rage wrapped her in the blanket and set her on the horizontal support. "Be strong for me, Joan." He brushed her curls away from her face.

"I will." She gazed at him, her eyes shining with trust.

She expected him to fix this. He turned to the other cyborgs, opening the lines of transmission. The virus howled incessantly.

_You'll talk to me through the lines._ As Rage transmitted, the virus' processor shorting wails settled into a low cooing. _You won't upset my female._

_Keep her still._ Doc shifted the machine. The viewscreen faced away from Rage.

He couldn't see it and that frustrated him. Rage stood by Joan's side, stroking her hair, half listening to her murmured regrets while half listening to the cyborgs' transmissions.

_See that?_ Surge tapped the viewscreen. _That looks like—_

_I know what it looks like but it isn't possible._ Doc leaned forward. _Magnify it and display a reference image, one taken from a manufacturing vat._

Surge touched the screen and stepped back. They both stared at the image.

Doc? Is my visual system malfunctioning or are the images almost the same?

_If your visual system is malfunctioning, mine is also, because the differences are minor._ Doc rubbed his hands over his face. _All the research claims this can't happen, yet the proof is before us and it explains the symptoms._ He spread his fingers over the viewscreen.

The faint heartbeat.

The fourth life form reading.

The virus began to howl.

His possessiveness.

Possessiveness is a C Model trait. But it does explain her hunger.

They knew something, weren't sharing it with him, and the noise was battering Rage's processors. _What explains the symptoms?_ _What's wrong with my female?_

_My. My. My. Be. How._ The virus babbled.

_See how he responds to Rage's transmissions?_ Doc sounded excited. _He recognizes him, has been hearing his transmissions from his beginning._

He's highly intelligent.

He? Rage frowned. Did viruses have a sex? _Answer my questions. Will my female survive?_

The virus squealed, its tone joyful, and the cyborgs laughed. They fraggin' laughed while his female was ill!

"Stay still, little engineer." Rage brushed his lips over Joan's forehead and stomped toward Doc and Surge. They didn't look away from the viewscreen, watching it as though they'd never seen anything so intriguing.

Rage pushed Surge out of his way. "Let me see it." He gazed at the image. It looked like a misshapen humanoid with a giant skull and a shrunken little body. _That_ was inside the female he loved, feeding off her, infecting every other being around them?

"What type of parasite is that?" He touched his stomach. Did he now have one of those creatures inside him too?

"Parasite?" Joan's face turned pale. "Get it out of me."

"Parasite." Surge smiled.

"Technically, he _is_ one." Doc appeared as irrationally happy. "And judging by how quickly he's growing, he'll be out of you in mere planet rotations, Rage's female."

"We might have to remove him." Surge tapped his fingers against his chin. "She's human. She might not be able to carry him to term."

"True."

Rage's frustration levels spiraled higher and higher. "Will." He picked Doc up by his neck. "She." He shook the cyborg. "Live?"

"Yes," Doc croaked. "Not virus. Offspring."

"What?" Rage dropped him. " _That's_ your diagnosis?" Were they idiots? "Cyborgs can't produce offspring. I know. I was in the breeding programs, was paired with twenty-two human females and one hundred and fifteen cyborg females. None of those pairings were successful." He narrowed his eyes, questioning Doc's credentials. "Where did you learn about repairing cyborgs?"

Doc rubbed his neck. "I'm qualified."

Rage didn't believe him. _Crash._ He opened his transmission lines to his friend. _Relay these images and all subsequent information to Intrepid. Ask_ _him to search on possible causes._ "Are there additional medical staff on board?"

"You don't need advice from additional medical staff." Doc glared at him. "This is an image of an offspring manufactured in one of the human's laboratories." He tapped the screen and an image appeared. "This is the image of the offspring in your female's womb." He reduced the size and displayed them side by side.

They were identical.

Identical.

That meant...

Rage swayed, his view of the worlds, the future, fate shifting.

Because something he thought impossible had occurred. He had created offspring with Joan. She wasn't sick, wasn't dying. She would live, spend her lifespan with him.

And she was carrying his son.

"My son," he roared, falling to his knees, his fingers curling into fists. "I have a female _and_ a son."

Cyborgs cheered over the transmission lines, their joy almost rivaling his.

Almost.

He'd never felt this happy. Ever. It was as though every pleasure he'd ever experienced, every dream, every unspoken wish, had converged into one.

"Rage?" Joan gazed at him with wide eyes, her hands placed protectively over her rounded stomach. She'd given him this happiness.

"We created offspring, female." Saying the words made it even more real.

She blinked once, twice, her surprise mirroring his. "How's that possible, sir?"

"We'll have to perform tests to determine how it happened," Doc answered for Rage. "But first, I must inform the captain that we're now out of quarantine. If your condition is contagious, every cyborg on board will want to be infected."

### Chapter Nineteen

_We created offspring, female._

Joan struggled to absorb Rage's words.

She'd reviewed the research gathered from the breeding programs. There had been zero offspring conceived. No pairings had been successful.

The scientists had expected the breeding programs to work. The genetic blueprint for cyborg mechanics had been inserted into the DNA sequence. The nanocybotics had been modified, allowing for the expansion of their parts as cyborg offspring matured, ensuring both man and machine grew in concert.

But the very nature of the nanocybotics prevented conception. As Rage had explained the planet rotation they'd met, a cyborg's nanocybotics viewed any fertilized egg as a damaged egg. They 'repaired' it, returning the egg to its former unfertilized state.

In a laboratory, a scientist could administer a suppressor immediately before fertilization. That was too complex to be coded into DNA.

Faced with those facts, Joan had realized she'd never have offspring with Rage. She'd accepted that future, thought herself content with one big C Model cyborg to love and care for.

Now they'd have a son.

"You're certain?" she asked. It was too incredible to be believed.

"We're certain." There was no doubt in Doc's voice.

Surge nodded.

"Our offspring is inside you, female." Rage rushed to her side, a silly smile lighting his normally grim face. "You've made me the happiest cyborg in the universe."

He scooped her into his arms, scanning blanket and all, and he spun. The chambers' lights whizzed around them. She clung to his neck, kicked her feet, and laughed, his exuberance feeding hers.

She hadn't inadvertently killed the male she loved. She was giving him a son. They'd live and love for a cyborg lifespan, hundreds, perhaps thousands of solar cycles.

The door slid open and Rage abruptly stopped, the cessation of motion jarring Joan. He folded his big body around her, safeguarding her from the intruder.

"First," Gap crowed, lifting his hands in victory.

"First to arrive in the chambers." Crash pushed him to the side. "Not first to see the images of our offspring."

"I was on the same transmission." Gap approached them, grinning boyishly.

"You were secondary on the transmission." Crash followed him.

The young cyborg gazed at her stomach. "The difference in timing was minuscule, undetectable to offspring-bearing human females."

"There's still a difference." Crash's gaze dropped also.

"Touch my female and I'll pound you into the floor." Rage's rumble sent a tremor of arousal through Joan.

Their faces fell, their disappointment adorable.

"On the agri lot, some beings believed that touching a female while she was bearing offspring brought good luck." The luck was for the being doing the touching. Those same beings believed in dancing naked every sundown. Joan didn't tell them that.

Rage skimmed his fingertips over her blanket-covered stomach. "We wish for a healthy mother and a healthy offspring." His gaze slid to the cyborgs. "Only touch my female's stomach and be gentle."

"I'll guide them, sir." Joan took both cyborgs' right hands and set them on her belly.

Gap's eyes widened. "Our offspring is in there?"

Joan nodded. Crash had referred to him as 'our offspring' also. As the first to be conceived, would their son belong to all of the cyborgs? She liked the idea that he'd be protected by hundreds of warriors.

"He's cooing through the transmission lines." Crash's face softened. "He knows we're here."

Joan glanced at Rage.

"He chatters as much as those two do." He indicated Gap and Crash. "That's why I thought my processors were infected."

"What he isn't telling you is he now chatters back." Crash grinned.

Rage frowned at his friend. "I have to. My son howls if I ignore him."

"Because you're his father." Her heart squeezed. Their son recognized him.

"You're his mother. We'll create a device so you can hear him also." Crash lowered his face to stomach level. "He already hears you."

"Oh." Joan blinked back tears. Her son heard her.

The door slid open. Vector crossed the threshold, stopped short when he saw Gap and Crash, their hands on her stomach. Fierce yearning flashed across his face, quickly concealed under a mask of indifference.

"Have you arrived to imprison my female, cyborg?" Rage glowered at him.

Red flushed Vector's cheekbones. "I've arrived to congratulate you and to offer my sincere apologies. I learned much about your female during the isolation." He glanced at Crash. "She's a female deserving our gratitude and our protection. You're a fortunate cyborg to have found her. And that you created offspring—" His voice cracked.

Vector paused, collecting his emotions. No one else spoke. Joan sniffled, tears dripping down her cheeks, collecting in the seams of her lips.

"That you created offspring," the captain continued. "Gives hope to all of us. I offer you the shelter of my ship and the devotion of my crew while you await his arrival."

Rage narrowed his eyes. "My female, the mother of the first naturally born cyborg, isn't welcome in the Homeland?"

"The council hasn't yet ruled on your female's status." Vector straightened and met his gaze directly. "But as your offspring has been conceived and carried to this stage of his development in space, I assumed you wouldn't risk his health by changing his surroundings."

"He's right, sir." Joan agreed with that thinking. "The change in gravity can be jarring."

"It's logical not to risk it," Doc added his opinion.

"And if the council rules that my female is to be killed?" Rage braced his feet apart, her cyborg uncaring that he was naked and unarmed. "Will we be fighting your entire crew to keep her safe?"

"The council won't ask for her death." Vector lifted his chin. "She's our future."

"If they do?" Rage pushed.

"If they do, I'll add my guns to yours. I will defend your female and your offspring with my life. I pledge that on my honor as a cyborg." Vector's gaze slid to Joan. "I hope to find my own female some planet rotation in the future."

"There were one hundred females in a birthing class at Joan's Academy. They have no males to protect them." Gap grinned.

Joan inwardly groaned. The young cyborg remained fixated on those females.

"Female, what are your thoughts?" Rage looked at her. "Chambers on a warship would be secure."

Their offspring was a cyborg. They were designed to develop rapidly, to provide the Humanoid Alliance with warriors quickly. Their son would be born within planet rotations, full grown within a solar cycle.

And a warship would be safe. Vector had sworn his loyalty. He didn't appear the type of cyborg to take his honor lightly.

"As long as Gap, Crash and the other cyborgs in our fleet can board this warship, I have no objections, sir." She smiled first at Rage and then at Vector.

"I can't stop them from boarding." The Captain's lips twitched. "Your cyborgs are eager to celebrate the offspring they've claimed as theirs. Prepare for an invasion."

"Fraggin' hole. They'll all want to touch my female's stomach," Rage grumbled.

"Is that a possibility?" Vector glanced at Joan's midsection and she swallowed a groan. She'd be rubbed by every cyborg on board the warship by the end of the planet rotation.

"We accept your offer." Rage ignored the question and held out his palm. The two males exchanged a bone-jarring handshake. "We'll require chambers." Joan's stomach growled. "And nourishment bars."

The cyborgs laughed.

"You'll also require training," Vector dared to add. "You have to be ready, at any time, to defend your female and offspring."

The laughter stopped. Joan sucked in her breath. Her cyborg prided himself on being the best warrior. He wouldn't appreciate the implication that his skills were substandard.

"Draw a sword and you'll see how much training I need." Rage glowered at Vector.

"I plan to." The Captain's eyes gleamed. "Choose twenty of your best males and I'll choose twenty of mine. We'll meet in the training room for a mock battle."

"Battle," Rage scoffed. "If there's no possibility of death, it's no battle."

A slow smile spread across the other C Model cyborg's face and Joan grew alarmed. She didn't want the challenge to escalate to killing.

"You said cyborgs don't fight each other," she reminded the captain.

"This is training, not fighting." Vector's gaze remained locked with Rage's. "There's zero probability of death but, I assure your male, there _will_ be pain."

Rage straightened. "I won't be the being feeling it."

"We'll see."

Joan rolled her eyes. Pain, she could deal with.

* * *

One planet rotation later, Joan watched from the protected viewing area as Gap limped from the battle square, his simulated body armor tattered, very real blood oozing from his shallow wounds.

"He should be given a pain inhibitor." She worried her bottom lip.

"He won't agree to it." Crash appeared unconcerned. "All of the other cyborgs refused it and he wants to impress them."

As predicted, Gap waved Doc away from him. The young cyborg slumped on a long bench, beside his defeated comrades. They slapped his shoulders.

"He'll heal quickly," Crash assured her. The cyborgs around them cheered as one of Vector's males conceded. "The weapons can't inflict deep wounds."

"I heard they feel like deep wounds." Barrel nudged Crash's back. "And a kill imitates death. I've signed up for the next battle."

He sounded as excited as Rage appeared. Her big cyborg was at the far end of the square, wielding swords with both of his hands, gleefully dispatching his opponents, his face splattered with blood. Vector did the same at the opposite edge of the battlefield.

"They must be clearing the space before they face each other." Joan splayed her fingers over her belly.

Crash dipped his head. "That and Vector is giving Rage time to grow accustomed to his weapons. The weight and feel is slightly different."

They'd decided upon primitive weapons—swords, daggers, axes, because guns, they agreed, were not feasible with so many opponents in such a small area and the feigned deaths were too quick for their satisfaction.

She didn't expect any different decision from her fight-happy cyborg. Joan watched him eliminate two cyborgs at the same time. She suspected their son would be as prone to violence. He would have C Model cyborg traits.

"Is this what females like—fighting?" Crash hadn't the typical cyborg tendency for violence, deeming to sit out the battle.

"This is what _I_ like," she admitted. Rage's skill for killing made her feel safe. "But I'm not every female. At the Academy, there was a male enrolled in the technology program. He couldn't fight but he could develop defense systems no unauthorized being could access. Females followed him around campus, waited for him outside his chambers."

"He was human?" Crash's top lip curled.

"Humanoid." Joan wasn't certain which species he was. Rumors had said he was mixed.

"I could access his systems."

Her lips twitched. Rage's friend might not be able to fight but he _did_ have the typical cyborg confidence in his inherent abilities. "If the females had met you, they would have followed you around also."

"I need one female, not multiple, and she will only follow me." Crash lifted his chin.

A howl redirected Joan's attention. Intrepid lay on his back, the tip of Vector's sword pressed against his neck. Vector's lips moved.

"What's he saying?" She didn't have cyborg hearing.

"Increase the auditory levels for our human female," Barrel yelled.

Metal clanged. She recognized her cyborg's grunts as he waged mock war.

"Answer me." Vector leaned forward and blood dripped down Intrepid's neck. "Do you concede?"

"Never." The cyborg's eyes blazed.

"You are as obstinate as your leader." This was said with a mixture of appreciation and disgust. "You wished for pain. This is pain." Vector twisted his sword.

Intrepid's body convulsed. Crimson coated his body armor. Joan covered her mouth with her hands, his death appearing too real for her senses.

The big cyborg lay still for one, two, three heartbeats and then gasped. "Frag." He coughed blood as he sat upright. "That stung."

Vector laughed. "You fought well." He reached out, gripped Intrepid's hand and pulled him to his feet. "After I dispatch your leader, we'll share a beverage."

"You won't dispatch Rage." Intrepid staggered out of the battle square. "He's the best."

Vector turned his head. Joan followed his line of vision. Rage stood above his opponent, in the same position Vector had been moments ago.

"This is a battle." His eyes blazed with blue energy. "There's no conceding in battle." He twisted his sword, mock-killing the other cyborg quickly.

The cyborgs around Joan stomped their feet and yelled their approval.

"That cyborg won't make that mistake again." Crash nodded. "Rage made him a better warrior, might have saved his life."

That was the brutal world they lived in. One error could result in death. The peace the cyborgs had found in their Homeland could evaporate with a single invasion.

Joan knew that better than any being. Her parents never expected the attack on the agri lot and they paid for their lack of preparation with their lives.

The two remaining males in the square—Rage and Vector—swaggered toward each other. This would be a battle to the mock death also. She read that truth in her cyborg's scarred face. He would never concede, would never ask his opponent to surrender.

Which made last planet rotation's actions more meaningful. Rage had surrendered for her, had agreed to possible imprisonment to protect her.

He loved her. She'd realized that before he'd said the words.

"You trained your cyborgs well." Vector circled.

Rage did the same, juggling his swords, his long black hair hanging around his scarred face. "Your cyborgs are as skilled." His biceps bulged. Joan gazed at him with pride. He was big and fierce and hers. "I'm enjoying your mock battle."

"I thought you would." Vector grinned, his white teeth flashing in his gray face. "Are we chattering or are we fighting?"

Joan laughed, knowing right then and there that the two cyborgs would be friends. Both of them were more prone to action than conversation.

Rage struck first, swinging his two swords, the weapons blurring. Vector blocked, sparks flying from points of contact. Strike. Block. Strike. Block. The sound of metal hitting metal rang through the space. Their arms blurred, the action too quick for her human eyes to follow.

Then the males bounced backward. Sweat trickled down their cheeks, the moisture accentuating Rage's scars.

"They're equally matched." There was awe in Barrel's voice.

"Rage hasn't fought in twenty-two planet rotations." Crash came to his friend's defense. "He's also exerted himself in other ways." He glanced at Joan.

Her face heated. Breeding with Rage before he went into mock battle might not have the most intelligent decision.

But they'd been celebrating their good fortune. She hugged her stomach.

Her breath caught as Vector surged forward. Rage was now on the defensive, catching swords with his own. He grunted under the strain.

On the third blow, he lowered his body. Oh, fuck. Joan's heart pounded. Rage shot upward, flung Vector's swords away from him, and swung his own blades, grazing Vector's armor-clad stomach.

"Frag." Vector jumped backward, out of reach. "You're strong."

"My female upgraded my mechanics." Rage gave Joan all of the credit. Cyborgs in the viewing area looked toward her and she glowed.

"Impressive." Vector inclined his head. "Would she upgrade mine also?"

"Yes, but it won't help you with this battle." Her dominant cyborg attacked. His opponent ducked and dodged the blow, skimming his blade over Rage's right shoulder.

Armor shredded. Blood spurted, her cyborg's blood. Joan felt faint. Rage, that fool, laughed, and did the same to Vector's left thigh.

The battle became more brutal, less civilized. The two males hacked at each other, fighting to win. Sparks lit their faces, their expressions dark. They kicked and twisted their torsos, using their entire bodies to attack and defend.

Rage struck Vector once, twice, three times, stripping his armor and drawing blood. Vector countered, landing a bone-jarring blow on Rage.

Joan winced. "This is a mock battle. He can't die. This is a mock battle. He can't die," she whispered over and over to herself.

"He's endured worse." Crash tried to comfort her.

"Once, when we were fighting the Mantidae, they severed his right arm to the core," Barrel reminisced. "He fought with his left arm and survived."

He was a survivor. He'd told her that, multiple times. And this was training, not a real life or death situation. "Fight for me, Rage," she yelled.

He roared his reply and powered forward, driving Vector to the far side of the square. Fuck. Joan stared at him. Her cyborg was a force to be reckoned with. He—

Her stomach muscles twitched. She placed her hand over the spot. The sensation happened again, pushing against her palm. "Our offspring is kicking."

Rage's swords stopped in mid air. "Wait. What?" He turned his head toward her.

Had he been listening to her all this time? "I think our offspring kicked me, sir, but that's nothing to worry about. Continue fighting."

"Frag fighting." He strode toward her, sheathing his weapons. "I concede."

"There's no conceding in battle," Vector quoted him. His swords dangled from his fingertips, his confusion palpable.

"We'll fight at a later time." Rage exited the battle square. "My female is my first priority." He said that with no hesitation. Joan beamed. She ranked above fighting, above her C Model cyborg's pride. "Our offspring is kicking." Rage bounded up the spectator seating. Cyborgs moved out of his path.

"Can I feel it?" Crash asked.

"Not now." Rage scooped Joan into his arms and sat in her spot, setting her on his lap, the blood on his armor soaking through the flight suit Crash had found for her. "Did our offspring hurt you, little engineer?" He peered at her with a heart-touching concern. "I can tell him to stop."

She doubted their offspring would listen. "He didn't hurt me, sir." She placed his big palm over the spot. As though sensing his father, their son kicked.

Rage's mouth fell open, wonder reflecting in his eyes. "He's strong."

"Our offspring is strong," Barrel yelled. The cyborgs hooted and hollered and jostled for position beside her, fighting over whom would be next to feel the offspring kick.

Joan brushed the blood-dampened hair away from Rage's brilliant blue eyes and smiled. "He's a survivor, sir, like his father."

"Like his mother." Rage leaned forward and skimmed his lips over hers, his kiss light and tender. "I love you, female."

### Epilogue

Half a solar cycle later, Joan was watching yet another battle. This time, their son, Choice, was the aggressor. He wanted to temporarily leave the warship with his Uncles Barrel, Green and Zip and was determined to wrangle permission for that adventure from his overprotective father.

The three cyborgs stood at the threshold to their chambers, grinning, as Choice followed the much-beleaguered Rage around the space.

"But I finished all my lessons, even that boring one on human history, and Uncle Crash said my mechanics upgrades are almost as concise as mom's and I've been doing real good on using two swords at once." Their son huffed and puffed, having to work twice as hard to keep up with his father's longer stride. Despite that effort, he didn't leave any gaps between his words.

"You've been doing really well," Joan corrected, setting aside the chip she'd been working on.

"See?" Choice flung one of his hands in her direction. "Mom thinks I've been doing really well also. I won't be able to see Windy, Dad, if I don't go with them. Uncle Vector won't allow her on the warship. And it's only three planet rotations. That's all."

Rage glanced at her. Her big cyborg had been hyper-vigilant with their son's safety, deeming even a family trip to the Homeland to be too large of a risk.

And she knew what he was thinking. They would be granting him three planet rotations of freedom now, but in another half a solar cycle, Choice would be a full-grown cyborg, wanting to walk his own path.

Denying him this treat wouldn't stop that fate. "He can make up the time when he returns, sir."

Rage's black eyebrows lowered. "You want this, female?"

No, she didn't. She wanted to clutch their son's unmarked baby face against her bosom and never let him go, protecting him from the harsh world and all of the dangers within it. If Choice had been born more human than cyborg, she would have had eighteen or more solar cycles to spend with him.

But he was all cyborg, his countenance and build an adorable miniature of his father's. Cyborgs had been designed to develop quickly, the Humanoid Alliance not wishing to wait to send them into battle or spend resources on raising them.

She had to accept him for who he was, as others accepted her, a human female in a cyborg stronghold. "He'll have three capable cyborgs safeguarding him, sir."

The cyborgs' grins widened.

Choice scowled. "I don't need safeguarding. I can take care of myself."

Rage frowned at him. "Are you questioning your mother?"

Choice's defiance instantly deflated. "No, sir."

"Good." Rage's eyes flashed. "Because she's the only reason you're being allowed to leave the warship."

"Woot!" Their son punched the air. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too." Joan smiled.

"Uncles Barrel, Green and Zip will return you unharmed or their heads will no longer be attached to their frames." Rage leveled a warning glance on the cyborgs in question. They swallowed hard, nodding their agreement. "Now, go, before my logic returns."

"Give us our hugs first." Joan held out her arms.

Choice glanced at his cyborg uncles. "But they're watching and—"

"Choice," Rage rumbled.

"Okay. Okay." He gave her a quick hug. "Thank you, Mom. You won't regret this."

She already did. Before she could respond, he danced away from her.

"Dad." His hug for his father was even quicker.

Rage, however, had a cyborg's reflexes. He managed to muss their son's hair and murmur words she couldn't hear into his ear.

Then Choice was gone, taking the three cyborgs with them, leaving Rage and her alone. The chambers seemed empty without his constant chatter.

"He will always be our son," she said more for herself than for Rage.

Her big cyborg grunted his agreement and glowered at the door, as though he was willing Choice to return.

"What do you wish to do now, sir?" She gave Rage the control he needed.

He glanced at her, his expression ominous. "I want to kill some being."

"Or you could do that other thing C Model cyborgs excel at." Joan stripped off her flight suit, the cool air striking her heated flesh, and she sank to her knees. "Let me serve you, sir."

His eyes gleamed. "For what purpose?"

He'd asked her that once before. "Because I love you more than life itself, sir, and serving you gives both of us pleasure," she modified her previous answer. "It's in my design to attend to your needs as it's in your design to give me orders."

Rage grasped the lapels of his flight suit and yanked, ripping the fabric. "I'll use you hard, female." He shredded the garment, leaving a trail of cloth as he approached her.

He was a brute. Joan's pussy moistened. "I'm yours to use, sir."

Rage stood before her, his booted feet braced apart, the rest of his body gloriously naked. "Wet me." He gripped his cock, presenting himself to her. A dab of pre-cum glistened over his slit.

She leaned forward and licked him from base to tip, tasting metal and male, navigating shaft, scars, rim, cock head. He shuddered, her cyborg powerless against the force of her wiles.

He was hers. Joan smiled as she flicked her tongue over him, laving this intimate part of him. The nanocybotics within her had never faded, were now bubbling over his skin, caressing him with effervesce.

She might not be cyborg, but she was no longer one hundred percent human. He'd changed her as she'd changed him.

She sucked his ball into her mouth, rolling it with her tongue, and Rage rumbled, energy snapping in his eyes. He sank his fingers into her hair, his grip exciting her.

He inhaled deeply, his chest rising. "I smell your musk, female."

Joan released him. "Am I fertile, sir?"

"Not fertile, not yet." His theory—that she wouldn't be fertile again until Choice was fully grown—might be valid. Animals on the agri lot experienced the same delay. "But you're very desirable, female."

His passion for her hadn't dimmed. "Thank you, sir." She nibbled along his shaft, teasing him with her lips and tongue.

"Vector objects to me calling you that—female." Rage swirled his fingertips, massaging her scalp. "He says it's demeaning."

"It doesn't bother me, sir." She heard the love behind the word.

Rage's lips flattened. "I would never treat you with disrespect."

"I know, sir."

He gazed down at her, his jaw moving as though he debated something with himself. "When I was in the breeding program, we were paired with a different female for each session. We didn't have time for chatter, would both be reprimanded harshly if there were any delay in breeding. As we didn't know their names, the males would call every partner female."

He'd called other females by her endearment. That hurt her. Joan pushed her lips over his cock, trying to lose herself in the act.

"Another male was brought into the program," Rage continued his story. "This male, Heart, had served in breeding programs at other locations. He told me that his view of the Homeland was a place where he called the same being female planet rotation after planet rotation. This female would be his and his alone."

Rage's gaze slid from hers. Joan sucked him gently, soothing his distress with her mouth, lips, tongue, as he glared at the far wall.

"After that planet rotation, I never called my partners female. It had become a special reference to me and I refused to cheapen it."

She allowed him to slip from her lips. "You called me female, sir."

"I did." He cupped her chin. "Because, deep in my circuits, I knew you were and would always be mine."

He'd loved her from the planet rotation they'd met. Joan blinked back tears. "Did Heart make it to his Homeland, sir?"

"Heart was the first to be paired with a human female." Rage's voice grew brusque. "They didn't use the breeding drugs on her and he was a B Model, more primitive-looking than I was. She was terrified, screamed for mercy. Heart refused to breed with her and was decommissioned."

His friend had been killed because he wouldn't harm another being. She rested her cheek against Rage's thigh. "I'm sorry, sir." They'd both lost so many loved ones, seen too much violence.

Yet they had found each other amongst the turmoil.

"If you feel demeaned—"

"I don't, sir." She pressed a kiss to his tip. "I feel honored to be your female."

Rage's shoulders lowered. "Enough chatter." He drew her to her feet, sliding her curves along his muscles, and she trembled with anticipation. "I vowed to use you hard." He tossed her onto the sleeping support. She bounced, laughing softly. "On your hands and knees, female. I'll take you like the savage model cyborg I am."

"Yes, sir." Joan eagerly obeyed, wiggling her ass in the air.

He pulled her to the edge of the sleeping support, positioning himself behind her. "Spread wider for me." He nudged her thighs apart. "I want to see your pussy."

She tilted her hips upward, allowing him to peruse all of her.

Rage gazed at her for three thrilling heartbeats. She looked over her shoulder and watched him watch her. His face was dark with lust, his eyes lit with desire.

He wanted her and that made her crave him even more.

"Your body was designed for mine." Her big cyborg swept his hands over her head, shoulders, back, ass, thighs, rubbing her up and down, up and down, warming her skin, escalating her excitement. "You're soft and ample, able to take me."

"I can take all of you, sir," Joan moaned, moving with him.

Rage brushed his fingertips against her inner thighs, stroking higher, higher. He touched her pussy lips and a tremor of pleasure rolled through her. He stroked her, teasing her with his fingers, preparing her for his cock.

When she thought she couldn't take more, had opened her mouth to ask for release, he withdrew his hands. There was a moment of agonizing disconnection. Then his broad cock head prodded her entrance.

He aligned himself properly, gripping her hips, and thrust, burying himself ball deep. She cried out, arching. He shifted inside her, filling her as only her cyborg could.

Rage gave her one, two heartbeats of stillness, allowing both of them to regain their control and then pumped, his rhythm slow, steady, able to be matched.

She met this unspoken challenge, swaying backward into each slide forward, meeting him halfway. They were equals, perhaps not in physical strength, but in spirit, two survivors having found each other.

As he rutted into her, taking her faster and harder, Rage mouthed over her shoulders and spine, sprinkling kisses across her skin, nuzzling into her long curly hair.

The others saw a rough, tough, often angry, warrior. When they were alone, in their chambers, he revealed all of the tenderness, the love, the devotion, in his big cyborg heart. Only she was trusted with this side of him, with his vulnerability.

She'd protect him, would never allow another being to harm him. Joan told Rage this with her words and with her actions, pushing into him, smacking her ass against his hips, warmth and arousal rippling from the contact.

He grunted, Joan hearing his own vow in the sound. He'd do the same for her, would slay the darkness, would die if it meant she'd live.

Rage lowered over her, covering her back with his chest, caging her between his massive arms. This prison of muscle and male wasn't created to keep her inside, to inhibit her movements. It existed to keep others out. This was their private Homeland, a place filled with desire and happiness.

He shook her body with his thrusts, his passion meshing with hers. Joan panted, her constant stream of words becoming jerky, incoherent.

"My name, female." Rage sucked on the delicate skin below her ear. "Say my name."

"Rage," she complied, focusing on his name and his name alone, repeating it again and again. Her arms and legs trembled, threatening to give way under the weight of their desire. His cock swelled inside her.

Neither of them was ready for their encounter to end. Joan struggled to prolong it, her form stretched tight under his, sweat dripping down her forehead, wetting her hair. If she could, she'd stay like this forever, safe in his arms, buffered by his love.

That wasn't possible. She whimpered. She couldn't stave off her release for much longer. "Rage?"

"Let go, Joan." He drove deep. "I have you." He swiveled his hips, severing her grip on reality.

She fell down, down, down into the depths of ecstasy, calling his name as she descended. Rage wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him.

She clenched around his shaft, and he roared, pumped his hot seed into her pussy, pushing her off yet another ledge, increasing her bliss.

Joan thrashed under him, not wanting to break free yet unable to remain still. He restrained her easily, his face burrowed in her hair, his breath warming her neck.

Gradually she quieted, murmuring his name, the only word left in her bliss-blasted brain. Rage climbed onto the sleeping support and drew her to his heaving chest. "I love you, female." He pressed a kiss to her moist forehead.

"I love you, sir." She gazed up at his rugged face, seeing the love shining in his brilliant blue eyes. "Welcome home."

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Other Books by Cynthia Sax

Cyborg Sizzle Series

Releasing Rage

Breathing Vapor

Being Green

Crash and Burn

Defying Death

Here is an excerpt from Breathing Vapor, the next story in the Cyborg Sizzle series.

Breathing Vapor

(Cyborg Sizzle #2)

Excerpt

Mira turned a corner and stopped.

A familiar silhouette, shrouded in shadows, blocked her path.

"You smell like him." Vapor's deep voice flowed down her spine, along her arms and legs.

"Are you recording this?" It was a struggle to maintain her cool persona. She burned for his touch, her need wild and barely controlled.

He paused for one heart pounding moment. "No."

She relaxed. Cyborgs were unable to lie. "Which him are you referring to? There have been so many different males."

There had been. Once. Solar cycles ago, she had tried to lose herself in sex. It hadn't worked so she had given up on relationships, focusing on her mom's favorite causes—freeing the suppressed, feeding the hungry, righting the wrongs the Humanoid Alliance had created.

"You lie to me, female." Vapor stepped into the light. The cyborg was hard—hard eyes, hard face, hard body. His tall, broad form was encased in black battle armor. His fingers rested on the hilts of his daggers. He could kill her before she made a sound and she couldn't stop him.

That aroused her.

She was truly fucked-up.

"There haven't been many males." His dark eyes glittered. "I smell only one on you."

Could he smell what K017282 had done, what she'd allowed the baby cyborg to do? "Why are you out of your cage?" Mira covered up her embarrassment with aggression.

"I had the urge to kill." Vapor caressed his daggers, drifting his fingertips over the metal, his hands moving up and down, up and down. "The Designer frowns on us killing other cyborgs." He leaned over her and lowered his voice. "Would any being miss you, I wonder?"

No being would. She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. "Kill me and you'll be decommissioned."

Vapor extracted the daggers from their sheaths. "It might be worth it." He brushed the flat of the blades over her cheeks. The metal was cool. His touch was slow and surprisingly gentle. "I hear every doomed cyborg gets a visit from Mira the Merciless."

Those visits were another risk she took. Decommissioned cyborgs remained conscious while dissected, given a prolonger, so they felt everything. Her father's explanation was that it ensured the parts harvested worked.

Mira couldn't change that process. She'd tried and failed.

But she could save as many cyborgs as she could from that fate. When that wasn't possible, she could ease their trauma. She visited the doomed cyborgs, under the pretense of taunting them, and injected the males with pain suppressors.

Their deaths remained horrific. She remembered the last decommissioning, the look on the cyborg's face and flinched.

"Careful, female." Vapor slid his daggers down her neck. "You don't want to damage your soft white skin. Humans don't repair quickly."

"You don't care if I'm damaged." Her breathing turned ragged.

"Not caring is in my programming. I was designed to hurt, to kill." He traced the M design on the bodice of her fabric wrap. His nose twitched. "You were designed to deceive, to tell lies with that pretty mouth of yours."

Those lies benefited his kind. Mira studied his grim face, yearning to tell him the truth. She was tired of being alone, of no one knowing her true self and she needed his participation for her plans next planet rotation.

But Vapor could betray her. If asked a direct question, he would have to either tell the truth, revealing her secrets, or stay silent, risking reprimand, possibly death.

He wouldn't die for her. No being would.

"Why do you smell like that cyborg you sold?" Vapor leaned closer to her.

"I don't smell like a machine," she lied

His nose wrinkled. "You do."

Vapor surveyed her body with his blades. He was careful, not making a single incision, his weapons being an extension of his hands.

"You told me a lie. Now, tell me one thing that's true." He skimmed the metal over her breasts, encircling her taut nipples. "That is, if you're capable of truth."

About Cynthia Sax

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.

She lives in a world filled with magic and romance. Although her heroes may not always say, "I love you," they will do anything for the women they adore. They live passionately. They play hard. They love the same women forever.

Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Website: CynthiaSax.com

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