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He repaired her as much as he could. With words and with touch.
Then they would breed a few more times, losing themselves in that bliss.
After that, they would train. Hard. They now moved as one. He could anticipate her reactions. She could anticipate his. They were a cohesive team.
The routine for the current planet rotation had a slight variance. They returned, not to her cave, but to the modified freighter.
Drift deactivated the perimeter alarms, and they walked around the vessel, hand-in-hand, his stride matching hers.
The modified freighter had sunk into the sand slightly. There was a thin layer of orange granules on top of the ship. Otherwise, it looked as he had left it.
“It’s functional.” He patted a side panel. It was a good ship.
“The Invaders rarely fly over this part of the planet.” His female glanced up at the sky.
It was clear and blue and perfect for flying. A being could break speed records under similar conditions.
But that wasn’t their task for the planet rotation.
“We won’t move it until we have to do that.” He relayed that decision.
A ship parked amidst mountain ranges, covered by a layer of sand, was much less visible than one airborne. The modified freighter was safer where it was.
“It’s the best way to relocate our more volatile of cargos.” She said that for his auditory system only.
He processed her code. They’d utilize the modified freighter to transport the cylinders of Erinomean Green Fire to Bubs’s Place for distribution to their team.
It was the safest way to do that. The modified freighter’s flight would be smooth.
Before they undertook that task, he had to relay the details about their mission to Cure, Captain, and the officers situated on the Dauntless.
That was most effectively done onboard the modified freighter. Being a cyborg, Drift transmitted constantly with his brethren, but there was some intel he preferred to convey with a visual. And that means of communication allowed his female to see and hear everything.
Power, the leader of the cyborg council, would also have to be informed of their plans. There was a 99.2563 percent probability Captain would assume that task, however.
Drift would focus on their assignment and on protecting his brave little human.
He grasped her hand, savoring that skin-on-skin contact, and he walked with her up the ramp and into the modified freighter.
“No one will intercept our chatter in here.” They didn’t have to use code inside the ship. “Do you want to take part in the information relay with my captain?”
“I’d prefer not to play an active role in that conversation.” His female remained skittish.
He appreciated her caution. It had kept her alive after the Humanoid Alliance invaded her planet. “What parts of the Plan do you not want me to convey to them?”
“Convey everything to them.” Her trust in him and in his brethren humbled him.
The lifespans of her entire team, beings she cared for and sought to protect, hinged on keeping the Plan a secret from their shared enemy.
He’d ensure her faith in him wasn’t misplaced. “Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
Hidden under the simulated hair, finger-width long dark-brown locks now covered his female’s scalp. Her natural hair was growing back. As were her fingernails and toenails.
Her other damage had fully repaired. And her pain was gone.
“Your kind might see something we haven’t.” She gave him a too-quick hug before claiming the seat beside his. “They could figure out how to save the others.”
That was…improbable. He sat in the captain’s chair.
