BioCybe (5 page)

The notion that she could never be like anyone else
continued to be the hallmark of her existence thus far. Everyone who’d ever
heard of BioCybes knew only the basic story. That BioCybes were unnatural
creatures, cybernetically enhanced and devoid of normal human emotions and
responses. Essential in warfare, but unwanted reminders of a bloody history
they’d rather forget.

“I’m more than the sum of my cybernetic parts.” Telling that
to the mirror didn’t make her feel better. No, rather it reminded her that she
was alone, just as she had been since the day she’d attended the testing.

Not for the first time, she wondered about her family. Where
were they? Did they ever think of her? Had they mourned her? Where would her
brother and sister be now? Did they even remember her?

She blinked away the tears that sheened.
Crying doesn’t fix
anything
, she told herself fiercely. She wondered though, why now and why
here? What had changed enough that she let loose the scorching emotions she’d
contained for so long?

She tugged at the last feeds that connected with her brain,
refusing to allow any more of these self-defeatist emotions to be backed up
into her memory systems.

It didn’t dull the pain that remained, the pain she’d
struggled with for years. Nothing could do that, but it made it easier to bear
when she blanked it out.

With a sigh, she turned on the ablution system.

Sleep never came easily after the nightmares, and she’d
rather use the time usefully. There was always plenty to keep her occupied.

The run to Omega V was routine. They’d made the trip a
million times, and with a satisfied sigh, Sandon checked the status of their
route. Ahead of time and ahead of budget.

Since the new pilot—Levia—had joined them, they’d been ahead
of the game more often than not. She was accomplished and capable, sure of what
she was doing at all times. He found it intriguing that this time she seemed to
be laboring under some kind of heavy emotion—one that made her short and even
more antisocial than before.

He’d tried, more than once, to engage her, to find out what
was wrong, but so far, she hadn’t even agreed that she was stressed. Instead,
she’d brushed off his every request with a slight shake of her head, but he’d
noticed that, while she’d never been chatty before, now she was utterly
withdrawn, focused on the task at hand to the exclusion of those around her. Or
in spite of them, he sometimes thought.

He reviewed the data he’d accumulated about her. It wasn’t a
thick file by any stretch of the imagination.

She was in her late twenties, well credentialed with a
military history—the majority of which was classified as
Unbreachable
.
That knowledge had given him pause. An unbreachable file had increasing levels
of security encryption and not even the best hacker had ever managed to
squirrel their way through the layers. Not that he’d heard of anyway. “Damn it
all.”

She was adaptable, well trained, and more than happy to
accept any task, no matter how distasteful. She’d never asked for shore leave.

He frowned at that. “I wonder why.” Maybe, like himself, she
was an orphan. But even as the thought occurred to him, he shrugged it off. He
certainly enjoyed visiting the many planets along the way. If anything, she
actively shied from the occasions he’d requested her presence, and if she did
have to accompany him dirt-side, she always claimed it was better that she
remain with the shuttle.

He stood, arching his back to relieve the pressure that had
built in his spine. A grunt of satisfaction later and he headed for the door to
his office. This time, he’d order her to take downtime.

Once on the bridge, it took only seconds to scan the
companionably silent area. She crouched in front of an open conduit cupboard, tiny
light playing over the tangle of cords housed behind the brushed metal door.

“Try that now.” Her voice was muffled, but as always, he was
intrigued by her extensive knowledge of the electronics and mechanics of the
craft.

A muffled “yeah, okay” was the response, quickly followed by
a loud yell of “you got it!”

She pulled back from the small cupboard and gave a hiss, obviously
scraping herself against a sharp edge.

“Are you okay?” He couldn’t help himself, extending his hand
to her. When she turned with a startled yelp, he saw a ragged tear of her
bodysuit.

“Oh, Captain. Yes, I’m fine.” She turned away, as if hiding
the evidence of the accident, and he frowned. She didn’t brush the dust from
her face or even the fine cob-webbing in her hair, and he thought it unusual.
If it were him, that would be the first thing he’d attend to, because he hated the
feel of it against his skin.

His fingers itched to reach out and deal with it, but it was
clear she would shy away from any such action, so instead he gave a tiny shrug.

“You might like to go…”

“Uh, of course, Captain. But first I need to ensure that the
cover is securely in place.” He watched as she dealt with the opening, replacing
the panel so it was once more in position before she rose up. “Now, if I may be
excused…”

He reached out a hand as she started to move away. “Just a
moment, I need to talk to you about…”

She glanced in his direction, her gaze unwavering. “About
what, Captain? You’re happy with my performance, I take it?”

“It’s nothing to do with your performance. If anything,
you’re too good at what you do. You need downtime, so I’m ordering you to take
it when we reach Omega V.”

If he hadn’t been watching intently, he would have missed
the way her eyes widened and her pupils dilated. “You want me…”

“Yes.” He knew his tone was harsh, but the tiny quiver of
her lips warned him that this was unsteady ground.

“I don’t need it, Captain. Not at the moment. I’ll tell you
when—”

“No, Levia. You see, I won’t overwork you, and to my mind
that’s what’s been happening since you’ve come aboard. You need time off, and
I’m ordering you—”

“I don’t cope well with being handled, Captain. When I need
the time—”

“It’s an order, Pilot Endrado. Take the time however you
please.”

Her lips thinned at his harsh order. “Very well. I’ll take
it in my shuttle.”

That wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear. “After you
transport me to the surface, you will take three days. Shore leave or other, I
don’t care. But take it, you will.”

She gave a nod of understanding. “Three days then.” She spun
on her heel and stalked away from him.

“Uh, Sandon? I don’t think she’s very happy with you right
now.”

Damn, he’d forgotten Vestang was present on the bridge.
“Maybe not, but it had to happen.”

He felt the familiar frustration and confusion clouding his
mind once more. Why did she have to fight him? Surely she could see that all he
wanted was the best for her? But then reality intruded. Vestang had heard every
word.

“Not one more word, Vestang. Hear me?”

Vestang was the biggest gossip on the ship, and within an
hour or two all the crew would know the specifics of their conversation unless
Sandon went out of his way to impress the importance on the man. He hated that
he’d not been more cautious.

Vestang blushed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The walk back to his office didn’t take long, but he used
it, his mind rolling over her words and reactions. There’d been fear in her
eyes, he realized. But what was the cause of it? The threat of downtime? Their
location? His incautious attitude? None of them made any sense. But hell, since
when did much to do with her make any sense to him?

* * * *

“It’s an order, Pilot Endrado.”
The words pounded
through her consciousness, and the bitter taste of gall had her clapping her
hands to her mouth. Even here, inside the safety of her own shuttle, she
couldn’t escape the demons that rode her hard.

Omega V. The very thought of that benighted planet had her
guts churning wildly.

“I don’t want to do it. How can anyone make me go back
there?” She locked her knees together and closed her eyes as the urge to flee
rose inside her.

Omega V was the scene of not just her defeat, but so much
more. A sob nearly escaped, but she clamped down, hard, on her emotions, lips
held tightly together as she wrestled with the memories.

It was the one planet in the entire galaxy she’d promised
herself never to return to. Now, once again, she was there without a choice.

The phantom pain pierced her insides, and she rubbed at the
location of the remembered injury. Her skin was welted and raised, and she
could
feel
it through the heavy synthetic material of her body suit.

For a moment, a thought occurred to her. Sandon didn’t know.
She’d never told him and it wasn’t on her official record. Clinging to that
fact at least allowed her some kind of defense from the fear that gnawed at
her.

Knock, knock.

She jerked as she turned, ready to answer the summons, her
hand on the release button. “Who is it?”

“Sandon.”

She grimaced at his growl, but opened the door and stepped
aside, allowing him access.

His gaze darted around the inside of the shuttle and she
realized she hadn’t put her ‘net’ away. His gaze fell to it, then with a
shattered gasp his eyes darted to her.

She tensed, felt the bloom of heat on her face. He’d know
exactly what that was. Levia waited as tense seconds passed. He didn’t speak
and neither did she, they just sized each other up. The air grew close and the
knot in her belly tightened. Her knees wobbled.

Why doesn’t he say something?

Then he took a backward step, breaking the fragile union
between them. “You…”

She watched, alarmed, as he scrubbed his hands across his
face. So many questions rose.
How is he going to react now that he knows?
Will he demand I leave?

“I… Sandon, I’ve been wanting to tell you.” She reached out,
her hand shaking slightly, and he recoiled as her fingers made connection with
his skin. She jerked away, as if scorched by him.

“God! You should have told me.” The fierce anger in his
voice burned her as her skin cooled to the temperature of ice.

“You wouldn’t have taken me on. I needed…” She gulped down
the words that would give him an insight into the pain that circled her
innards.
Don’t give the enemy any advantage.
It was the first and most
common mantra that was drilled into them during their training for combat. The
one that had kept her alive during… She shied away from the memory.

“What did you need?” His voice sounded strained to her.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t really matter. So, am I
going to be leaving the
Golden Echo
or will you be keeping me on?” She
kept herself stiff and aloof. Ready for the blow when he told her to leave.

“What?” His eyes widened with shock. “Why on… Now why would
I do that? You’re the best pilot the
Echo
has ever had.”

Releasing the pent-up breath was an effort, but she did so,
very, very slowly. She felt as if one comment or touch would shatter the shell
she’d carefully gathered around herself like a barrier. “I may be the best
pilot, but unless you can see beyond this…” She spread her arms wide so it
encompassed everything he’d seen. “Unless you can do that, then there is no
future in me remaining here.” Deep inside her mind, though, she was screaming,
Don’t
make me leave
.

His mouth firmed into a tight grimace. “I don’t…” He stepped
forward, but she held herself still, ready for the blow.

“Don’t sugarcoat it for me. I don’t do that, and I don’t
expect it in return.”

His eyes glinted dangerously in the dimness of the craft. If
she hadn’t been what and who she was, she may have taken a step back, but fear
was reserved for the memories that assailed her each and every night.

“Fine. I have no intention of asking you to leave.”

The thudding of her pulse slowed a little. “But?”

His eyes narrowed at the single word. “But what?”

“The truth is, what I am…who I am…” Her mind took on the
consistency of mush. How could she tell him without letting him know how much
the reality of what she was, hurt her? “I uh… I don’t need to share this
information with anyone else, do I?”

Creases appeared between his eyes. The frown was concerning,
but she waited, hoping he would figure out just how badly she needed to keep
the secret.

“You don’t want me to tell the others?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Why?”

She gulped. Audibly. “Because, in my experience, it makes
people nervous. They think of me as some kind of…” She jammed her hands deep
into her pockets, withdrawing into herself without conscious thought. “As some
kind of murderous creature.”

It was clear, the way his face changed from scrunched up to
wide-eyed with surprise, the instant he understood. “No. I won’t be informing
the others.” Even as she opened her mouth to thank him, he raised a hand. “Not
unless it becomes necessary. Should it endanger the crew, then I will make
disclosure.”

It certainly wasn’t a perfect answer, but it was
understandable. Levia gave a tiny nod. “Fine then. Only if it becomes
necessary.”

“About Omega V...”

Once more she curled into herself. “I don’t…” She beseeched
him, but he shook his head.

“I need you to pilot me down and stay.”

The numbness that had leached away returned. “Why?”

“Because the negotiations are going to be…” Sandon’s shrug
betrayed his inner turmoil, and for the first time, Levia could see his
frustration. “I need you there in case it goes south. This deal… I’ve never
been offered a deal like this, but turning it down isn’t simple nor is
accepting it.”

Her heart shuddered. Never before had she requested details
of who or what, but now, it seemed imperative. “What’s the cargo?” Her voice sounded
harsh, and he frowned once more.

“Bodies. Those who were killed in the battle for Omega V
between…”

A sound, keening and long, erupted. “
I can’t, Sandon
.
Don’t ask me to do this.” In her pockets, her fingers curled, cutting tiny
crescent-shaped incisions into the soft flesh. Her past haunted her day and
night, and now this. There was no way, without baring everything that she could
tell him… Her soul cracked in half.

“Levia, this is a diplomatic mission on behalf of the Juran
Commonwealth.”

“Please…”

“I need you and your assistance, Levia. If there was any
other way…” He extended his hands, and she wanted to accept he was right. But
she couldn’t, because he wasn’t. “No one else here is capable of piloting the
shuttle to the site and able to keep us ready to go at the drop of a hat. I’ll
make it up to you. I promise.”

One look at his face told her he truly believed it. There
wasn’t an option, except to leave. For all her history, she wasn’t sure she
could do that. She wasn’t strong enough or brave enough to leave the safety of
the
Golden Echo
. Instead, she gave a jerked nod. “Fine. But after this,
never will I return to Omega V.”

In his eyes, she read intrigue, but turning away was the
only safe action. It allowed her to hide the pain and fear that wracked her.

“Levia, if I could…”

“No. Don’t.” She pulled her hands from her pockets and held
them up, palm out in the attitude of defeat. “Not now. Just go. I’m… I need to
rest.”