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Drift crafted a series of five communications between the two males, using their previous communications as templates.
Thank the fuck we got off that fuckin’ planet. It was boring as fuck.
I hear they’re fighting in the Alkaphrah quadrant. That’s what I signed up for.
Fuck yeah. We’ll finally have some fuckin’ excitement.
You don’t think they’ll reprimand us for leaving Cancri B, do ya?
Fuck no. They don’t track that shit.
Drift accessed the Humanoid Alliance databases through their devices and located a freighter en route to the Alkaphrah quadrant. He changed the send location on the messages to the current coordinates of that ship and then he sent the communications.
The Humanoid Alliance, if they cared sufficiently to look into the situation, would assume the males had left the planet.
In reality, they would soon become part of the planet.
Drift chuckled at his own joke and rolled first one male and then the other into the fissure. Their bodies dissolved immediately. The molten ore bubbled. The stench intensified.
He tossed the devices into that heat and watched them disintegrate.
Then he ran at his top speed in the direction of the mounted transport, toward his female. There was no time to waste. Because he projected his female would fly away as soon as she reached her machine.
She came into view, and a laugh burst from his lips.
His prediction was 100.0000 percent correct.
She straddled the mounted transport. Upon hearing his chuckle, she turned her head and scowled. “Fates. How did you get here that fast?”
“I was the fastest warrior on booted feet of all the cyborgs manufactured in my vat.” He said that with a pride he felt to his frame. “And my speed was warranted.” He skidded to a stop beside her. “If I got here slower, I’d be running back to the beverage outlet.”
She glowered at him, but she didn’t deny she was planning to leave him in her dust. “What did you do with the bodies? The Invaders will be looking for them.”
He assumed the Invaders were the Humanoid Alliance. “They won’t find them.”
“Or so you believe.” His female huffed.
He struggled to contain his amusement.
She questioned his competence. He would have to work for her respect.
Drift liked that.
“I process that with 100.0000 percent certainty.” He met her gaze. “The bodies have been dissolved in molten ore.”
Her eyes widened. “The energy from that molten ore kills beings slowly and painfully.”
“It doesn’t kill cyborgs.” His kind was manufactured to survive in far-more-hostile conditions.
But her concern for him warmed his chest.
“You don’t have to emotionally damage yourself over my well-being, my female.” He grinned at her.
“I don’t care about your well-being.” The slightly higher pitch of her voice relayed she was lying. She did care.
His grin widened.
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “You want to go back to the beverage outlet. Why?”
