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“I’ll contact Power.” Captain’s head dipped. “The two of you will attempt to obtain visual confirmation of the weapon’s existence, but use caution. The Humanoid Alliance will kill to protect their fabrication.”
The Humanoid Alliance would kill purely for fun. Argot’s tone over the transmission lines was dry.
You’re fortunate bags of bolts. Grid’s envy was palpable.
Drift didn’t ask him how the Dauntless was flying. His speed records hadn’t been broken. His lips lifted slightly. It wasn’t being flown fast.
But, judging by the visuals, the battle station remained functional. And he had a mission to complete and a female to protect. She was his priority now.
“We’ll obtain visual confirmation of the weapon’s existence, Captain.” Drift would assume responsibility for that task.
“Contact us when you do that.” Captain relayed that order. “Ending communications.”
The main viewscreen reverted to the image of the rock formation directly in front of the modified freighter. The tip of it was lit by the rising sun’s rays.
“You won’t endure the most painful of deaths, my female.” He scooped her out of her chair and set her on his lap. “Our bond will ensure that never happens to you.”
His female attempted to slide off his body armor-clad thighs.
He strapped his arms around her, securing her in place.
“Let me go.” She squirmed.
He quashed a laugh. His female was a fighter. And he liked that. “I’ll never let you go. You’re mine.” He smacked his lips against hers. “Mine to repair.”
“Repairing me only deals with half of it.” She glared at him. “Because the most painful of deaths isn’t merely being slowly eaten by illness from the inside out. It’s knowing that everyone you know, everyone you care about is suffering in that same way.”
Frag. Drift splayed his fingers over her flight suit-covered form, seeking to emotionally repair her with his touch. “My female?—”
“That child we encountered in the settlement? He’ll die from the tumors.” The agony in her voice threatened to break him. “Everyone at Bubs’s Place? They’re dying from the tumors.” She lowered her voice. “Some will die too fuckin’ soon for my liking.”
Drift felt so fraggin’ helpless, listening to his female. He couldn’t process how to ease her pain.
“The Invaders forced our males to extract huge quantities of unshielded monster-maker ore from the depths of the planet.” His female funneled her hurt into anger. “Their weapon radiates that energy when they use it. Including when they test it. And the Invaders sit in their comfy shielded chambers and watch us die. Fates. Everyone on the planet is dying, and they don’t care.”
“They don’t care.” Drift agreed with her. “But we care. We’ll stop them. And Cure will work with his contact to fabricate a repair for your friends. He’s one of the best medics in the universe.” His lips twisted. “As he will tell you when you meet him.”
She blew out her breath and all the fight seemed to flow out of her also. “That repair, that cure will be too late for some beings.”
“It will be too late for some beings.” Drift relayed that truth. He projected the beings who were past the help of the current repair would die.
“Fates. I’m tired of the dying.” His female slumped against him.
He rubbed her back and held her and searched his databases for the words that would soothe her. But he found nothing.
Because he processed as thoroughly as she did that the dying hadn’t stopped. The Humanoid Alliance wouldn’t give up their superweapon without a fight.
Drift would ensure his female wasn’t damaged. And he would do his fraggin’ best to ensure he survived.
But he couldn’t protect everyone.
Moments passed.
“What will happen once you’ve provided visual confirmation the weapon exists?” His female finally broke the silence. “Will your kind send a team?”
“If Cure and I can’t destroy the weapon ourselves, yes, a team will be sent.” The Humanoid Alliance’s activities were a threat to the safety of the cyborg sector. And to the entire universe. They had to be dealt with.
“Hmmm…” His female studied him. “Is that team situated close to Cancri B?”
