UNIT 78: RESCUED (CyBRG Files Book 2) by Evangeline Anderson
“I don’t fucking think so,” Rich growled and suddenly the entire amphitheater was plunged into pitch blackness.
There was immediate confusion with shouting and the sounds of scuffling coming from the seats beyond the stage. But Rich didn’t seem a bit worried. He only held her tighter against his chest and began to run with a smooth, mechanical stride that kept her from being jostled too much. He jumped and there was a sudden feeling of falling but he didn’t stumble once—only kept going.
“Oh!” Kyrin gasped and realized the big cyborg must have jumped off the stage. Then there was a thumping sound and a feeling of something whooshing by her head. She realized he must have kicked the door open and they were now out of the Breeding Chamber and moving through the compound.
The feeling of moving swiftly through the pitch blackness was terrifying but there was nothing she could do about it—nothing but trust that Rich knew what he was doing and that this time he would get them out of there.
He must be able to see in the dark, she thought. Enhanced vision must be part of his modifications.
From every corridor came sounds of confusion and the scuffling of feet—cries and calls and once or twice, the sound of sobbing. Kyrin didn’t allow herself to pay attention to any of it. She just clung to the big cyborg with all her might and tried to control the hope that rose in her and the fear that tried to strangle it.
“Guards up ahead,” Rich murmured in her ear. Amazingly, he wasn’t even breathing hard. Was it his cybernetics that made him so fast and gave him such stamina?
“What…how…” She was trying to ask what he was going to do and how they would get past the guards in the dark, but before she could get the words out, there was a metallic clink from his metal arm.
“Halt! Who are you? What’s going on?” a voice shouted from the corridor ahead of them.
Suddenly the pitch-black air was filled with blindingly brilliant laser blasts and the deadly hissing sound of a pulse pistol firing. Screams and cries rose all around them but as before, Rich just kept running.
For a moment something that felt like a flailing hand caught in her hair and Kyrin cried in pain as it yanked several strands from her head. Then they were past it and pushing through what she knew must be the scuffed, dirty white double doors that led to the outside world and freedom.
They burst out into blinding daylight and she cried out, hiding her face in his chest.
“Hey, now, it’s all right, sweetheart,” Rich murmured, but Kyrin noticed he didn’t stop running.
“Where…where are we going?” she panted as his mechanical legs ate up the dry desert ground, taking her further and further from the Breeding Compound.
“My ship.” He sounded grim. “Left it in their docking area. Fuckers better not have tampered with it.”
“I hope not!” Kyrin gasped fervently. If the cultists had disabled his ship in some way…if they were unable to get out of here…
Then we might as well be dead, she thought and shivered. They’ll kill us both for trying to escape. I might last longer than Rich but as soon as they determine I’m not pregnant…
How do you know you’re not? whispered an insidious little voice in her head. He shot about a pint of his seed inside you. What if you are pregnant? What if the cultists recapture you and find out you’re carrying a “holy child”? What then, Kyrin?
She had no answers. All she could do was hang on to the big cyborg and pray he could get her safely off this hell hole of a planet.
Behind them, she heard a voice shouting but it seemed far away and unreal.
“Halt! Stop in the name of Tr’Low. You cannot take the bride—she belongs to—”
The shiny hatch opened in the shoulder of his arm this time and a pulse pistol aimed at the guards behind them. After some rapid shots, there were no more shouts or orders—only coughing and gurgles. Kyrin wasn’t sure how he was aiming, but clearly the big cyborg was a lethal shot.
She closed her eyes again as his feet hit the cracked perma-crete of the docking area.
Almost there, she thought. We must be almost there. If we can just get on his ship—if we can just get free of this horrible place—
And then there was the high, hydraulic whine of a ship’s gangplank lowering. Then metal boots hitting said gangplank. Were they really to Rich’s ship? Were they really getting out of here?
After so many false hopes and dreams, Kyrin had a hard time believing it. But finally she couldn’t stand the suspense and opened her eyes.
They were in a small, but comfortable space craft and Rich was still holding her tightly in his arms.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he murmured as the gangplank drew in and the hatch closed behind them. “Make yourself comfortable while I get us the hell off this fucking rock.”
Chapter Nine
What the fuck had he done?
Shame filled Rich, his cybernetic half allowing him to seamlessly pilot them up into the upper atmosphere like a shot while his human half berated him endlessly, all at the same time. His hands moved smoothly on the controls of the shuttle as the air around them filled with the surface-to-air laser fire from the compound’s cannons. Considering the Tr’Low claimed to be a peaceful cult intent on spreading their religion through their children, they sure weren’t bothered about killing off anyone who disagreed with them.
Hooked into both the shuttle’s systems and those of the compound, he avoided the laser bolts with the first, and wreaked havoc with the other. His focus was as sharp as the lasers attempting to rip them apart. His digital half invaded the labs and the breeding chamber, racing through their systems to find all the ventilation systems he could. Then, with a savage grin, he dumped a jury-rigged antidote made from what he could find in the labs right into them.
He grinned. Give that a couple of minutes and then the fanatical nuns and their leadership would have far more to think about than a small shuttle desperately trying to make orbit. Assholes. He hoped the reawakened breeding males, once freed from the drugs that had been pumped into them, ripped the fuckers apart.
“We’re nearly there, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder to where Kyrin was cuddled up on the crew seats in the back of the shuttle. “Almost out of the atmosphere and then we’re home free.”
“Hey, bud, you need a hand there?” The comms crackled and Rich grinned at the sound of Unit 80, Jake Wilkins’, voice as it filled the cockpit. Almost at the same moment, two orbit-to-surface fighters sped past him, heading for the compound.
“Sure do. Thanks, man,” he replied, smiling as both fighters waggled their wings and sped off. “Careful down there,” he added in warning. “They’ve got artillery defenses and there’s innocents in there. Just take out their ability to fight back and their power. We’ll need to send in IPKA to clean up this fuckup.”
“On it,” a second voice grumbled, that of Josh Harper—Unit 85. Rich wasn’t surprised he was Jake’s wingman. The big cyborg could fly anything ever invented. Hell… the amount of hardware he was carrying they could probably just strap wings on him and he’d be a fighter all on his own. “Boss man’s waiting just outside the system.”
Relief hit Rich hard and fast. If their leader, Unit 77, formerly Captain Fisher of the Space Corps, was here, that meant so was his little female, Doc Chambers.
“Thanks, man. Happy hunting.” He cut the comm and set the little shuttle on in intercept course with the transport that pinged him from just outside the system. As soon as he did, he slid out from the pilot’s seat and turned to Kyrin in the back of the cabin.
“Nearly home, sweetheart,” he said quietly, approaching her warily. She was curled up, still naked, where the seating turned ninety degrees. His breath caught in his throat as he saw his seed trickling down her thigh. Gods, how much had he come in her?
“Kyrin, sweetheart?” he reached up to one of the overhead lockers and recovered a blanket. Perhaps she would feel better, not so exposed, when she wasn’t naked?
Per
He tucked the blanket gently around her, trying not to touch her too much. He hadn’t been supposed to touch her at all. What the fuck had he thought he was doing? There had to have been another way out of all that without resorting to… fucking her? The little voice said again. But you wanted to, didn’t you? You wanted to fuck her, to breed her and tie her to you. Because if she is pregnant, then she has to stay with you. Has to want you and then, even though you’re a monster, you can still have a family.
He shuddered as he shoved the thought away. Yes, he had wanted a family someday. He’d always wanted that, but he had assumed it was off the table since his resurrection as a cyborg. In his heart of hearts, he still did want that, he admitted, but not like this. Not forced in this way.
“Kyrin?” he sat a few seats away, giving her space. “We’re going to be docking with another ship soon. It’s… well, the people on board are my friends. They’re like me. Cyborgs. But they won’t hurt you,” he added hastily, reading the sudden tension in her shoulders. “Our leader, Unit 77, his… errr, his friend… my friend, Doctor Chambers is aboard as well. She’ll look after you and make sure those drugs haven’t done anything nasty. Okay?”
She nodded, a small movement of her head that filled him with relief. At least she was listening to him, even if he couldn’t see her face. The sound of the proximity alert and then a slight lurch told him the main ship had a lock on them, bringing them into the shuttle bay.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured in warning as he moved closer. “I’m going to wrap this blanket around you and pick you up, okay? It’s just me. No one else will touch you. Apart from Doc Chambers and she’s lovely. I promise. Had her hands on me so many times I can’t remember,” he continued talking as he tenderly tucked the blanket around Kyrin’s tiny form and then lifted her up into his arms. “She totally rebuilt my shoulder and arm, gave me these snazzy metal legs as well. It’s awesome, I never could get boots to fit properly and now I don’t need to worry.”
He kept up the light chatter, a conversation that didn’t need any reply as he stood in front of the airlock waiting for it to cycle. The shuttle gave a tiny bump and he knew without looking through the cockpit view screen that they were in the shuttle bay.
“Guys,” he announced over their internal comms. “Clear the decks and corridors, would ya? I have the admiral’s daughter and she’s been through a lot. Could do without seeing your ugly mugs before the doc’s had a chance to look at her.”
There was no reply, not in words anyway, but he got a series of confirmation chirps back along the line, telling him that his brothers had vacated the immediate vicinity. And indeed, as soon as he stepped from the shuttle it was like the ship was a ghost town. Not a metal hide or hair in evidence.
Still talking about random shit—this time about the time Harper had fallen asleep while they were waiting to deploy and they’d put a toy atorian rabbit in his lap. Given that, for some reason, he was pathologically terrified of rabbits, his screaming fit and subsequent “Fuck off, you fuckwits” had kept them all laughing for weeks. He walked through the corridors toward the med bay where, hopefully, Doc Chambers would be waiting.
Whether they’d expected him to be slower or not, he had no idea because as soon as the double doors to the med bay opened, it was obvious that neither Unit 77 nor the doc were ready. Not for Kyrin and him showing up anyway, but they were obviously ready for something else. The cyborg leader had his tiny lady doctor pinned up against the bulkhead with his bigger body, his tongue halfway down her throat as they kissed like they needed each other to breathe.
“Oh, for gods’ sake, you two,” he groused as he walked past them. “Get a fucking room… Not this one… the amount you two are at it, anyone would think you needed to repopulate a damn planet all by yourselves.”
He hadn’t understood it before, the need 77 displayed to touch, kiss, or screw his lady love practically every moment of the day.
Ah, yes, but you do now, don’t you? You’d keep Kyrin in your bed all day if you could, locking the door against everyone so you can make love to her day and night, the little voice chimed in again. Seriously, he was going to get the doc to check his processor after all this was over and make sure he hadn’t got a corrupt subroutine or something.
Drew’s answer was to lift a metal arm and flick Rich the bird with his new, skin-covered hand. Rich grumbled in the back of his throat as he strode through to the next bay and gently deposited his precious burden on the bed. Kyrin still wouldn’t look him directly in the eye, but she muttered a soft, “thank you” as he set her down.
“Well, what do we have here?” Doc Chambers smiled as she walked into the bay, straightening her lab coat and trying to smooth her hair down. Rich grinned. The doc’s hair was a lost cause, and even if it wasn’t, it would be as soon as 77 managed to get her alone again.
“This is Kyrin Pierce,” Rich supplied, noting that Kyrin hadn’t shied away from the tiny doctor as she approached. That was a good sign. “They gave her drugs—lots of them. I managed to analyze some, but there were others they injected her with… I’m not sure what they were… Sending you the data I have now,” he nodded toward the datapad in the doc’s hands, easily finding its digital signature and sending a data burst from his processor.
“Breeding drugs,” Kyrin whispered softly, her cheeks burning. “They gave me something to… stuff came out my…” Her cheeks flamed and she looked down. “Stuff came out my breasts. Sticky stuff. It was—” She shuddered.
“No worries,” Doc Chambers reached out and touched the back of her hand reassuringly. “We’ll sort you out. Rich’s data is… good,” she said, flicking a glance up at him as she read it, and he knew she knew what he’d had to do. How he’d gotten some of that data. “If you could lie down for me, Kyrin, I’ll get a scan going and then we’ll see what we can do to purge your system of whatever remains of those awful drugs, okay?”
“Thank you,” Kyrin whispered, her hands clutching the edges of the blanket tightly to keep it around her as she lay down. She closed her eyes and as soon as she did, the diminutive doctor gave him a hard look. With a jerk of her head, she ordered Rich and Drew both out of the cubicle.
“It’s been over a solar month since the Tr’Lows took you,” Doc Chambers murmured, as soon as the two cyborgs had left and they were alone. “I won’t ask everything they put you through, Kyrin, but I want you to know I’ll listen if you need to talk. Nobody should have to go through what you’ve been through alone.”
“I…I don’t know if I want to talk about it or not. It was…awful.” Kyrin put a hand over her eyes, unable to even look at the other woman. “I still can’t quite believe I’m free—that I got away. Or, well, that Rich got us away. If it wasn’t for him, I’d still be down there. Still be…”
But she couldn’t go on. Couldn’t tell the doctor, no matter how kind and understanding she seemed, what her fate would have been if the big cyborg hadn’t come to her rescue.
I’d still be down there in the Breeding Chamber…still strapped to that awful metal and leather contraption but instead of Rich it would be Father Tr’Ayer taking me…breeding me…
Just the thought filled her with disgust. Her stomach rolled and she started to heave, unable to help herself.
“Uh-oh, here—quick! Let me get you an emesis basin.” The doctor grabbed a blue, kidney-shaped shallow pan and held it under her mouth. “Go ahead,” she told Kyrin. “Puke if you need to, hon.”
Kyrin wished she didn’t, but now that she’d started throwing up, it seemed like her body didn’t know how to stop. She was sick over and over, her stomach heaving helplessly as tears squeezed from between her clenched eyelids. Goddess, it was miserable.
Finally there was nothing left to come up but still her body went on dry heaving unti
“I hate to put any more drugs in your system” she remarked sympathetically as she administered the medicine. “But I think you need this.”
As soon as the new medication hit, Kyrin began to feel calmer and her stomach, which had been clenched like a fist, at last relaxed.
“Oh, thank the Goddess,” she moaned weakly. “I’m really sorry. I…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I do,” the doctor said grimly. “It’s called withdrawal. From the chemical analysis Rich shared with me, it looks like those damn cultists had you on so many drugs your system became dependent.” She rubbed Kyrin’s back in a slow, soothing motion and gave her a sip of cool water, which Kyrin was somehow able to keep down. “I’m sorry to say it, but I’m afraid you might have some trouble with this for a while until your body gets used to being off that nasty cocktail they put you on.”
“I hate throwing up,” Kyrin whispered, her throat raw. “It’s the worst. Well, aside from being kidnapped by cultists, drugged to the gills, and thinking you’re going to spend the rest of your life as a freaking baby-farm.”
She tried to laugh but it came out more of a sob. Apparently it was too soon to start joking about what she’d been through, even to herself. Another sob followed and soon she was crying every bit as hard as she’d been puking a moment before.
“Oh, honey…” Dr. Chambers put her arms around Kyrin and rubbed her back and shoulders some more. “It’s all right,” she murmured. “Let it out. Just let it out.”
Kyrin didn’t want to let anything out but the emotions inside her felt toxic—like if they didn’t come out they might poison her. She bawled until her heart felt as empty as her stomach and then, finally, began to regain some control.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, sniffing and wiping her face with the clean white tissue the doctor offered her. “I just feel so…so awful. Dirty and disgusting and sticky…” She looked down at herself. Her breasts were still leaking some and they had made wet patches on the blanket Rich had wrapped around her. Kyrin thought she had never felt so completely revolting in her life.