As darkness threatened to pull me under, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Careful what you wish for,” I murmured. Just an hour ago, I’d been drowning in survivor’s guilt, wondering why Benjamin died instead of me.
Now, it seemed the universe might’ve been correcting its mistake.
“Target displays unusual cognitive resistance to sedative,” one noted clinically.
“Good,” the one next to me replied, and something in that single word sounded almost... human.
My consciousness then slipped completely. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was the one beside me removing his helmet, revealing a face that was human but not quite—eyes too bright and features too perfect.
They were indeed CE creations.
My final thought: Benjamin died trying to save cyborg soldiers just like these for a reason.
TWO
AEON
I pulled off my tactical helmet as Dr. Parker closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the sedative. Her body went completely slack, her head lolling to one side. The faint scent of her perfume—something light and floral—lingered in the confined space of the van. I hadn’t expected her to fight the sedative so vigorously. Most humans dropped within seconds, but she had remained conscious for nearly four minutes after injection.
“That was... unexpected,” I said, studying her peaceful face. Her dark lashes fanned against her pale cheeks. A strand of her brown hair had fallen across her face. Without thinking, I reached out and tucked it behind her ear.
“You getting emotional on me?” Tegan’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching mine. “Or just making sure the merchandise is intact?”
“She’s not merchandise,” I snapped, the harshness in my voice surprising even me. “She’s a doctor. The best obstetrician on the Eastern Seaboard.”
Tegan’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Whatever you say, Commander. I’m sure that’s the only reason you volunteered to lead this mission.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Next stop, transport station. ETA twelve minutes.”
I glanced down at Dr. Parker again. In sleep, the lines of worry that had marked her face during our surveillance disappeared. She looked younger, more vulnerable somehow. My surveillance data hadn’t prepared me for how... human she would feel in person. Observing someone through camera feeds and biometric scans was clinical. Having her unconscious body mere inches from mine created an unexpected tension in my chest.
“Our people need her,” I said, more to myself than to Tegan.
“Our people need a doctor, yes,” Tegan replied, navigating the van through a series of back streets. “Did it have to be this particular doctor?”
I clenched my jaw. “The algorithm selected her. Ninety-seven percent compatibility with our requirements. Her medical records, her military experience, her adaptability scores, and her psychological profile to name a few.”
The transport station appeared ahead—an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, its deteriorating exterior the perfect cover for our operation. Tegan pulled into the loading dock, the massive doors sliding shut behind us.
“I led this mission because I wanted to ensure it was done properly,” I continued. “Minimal trauma and minimal complications. She’s essential to our future.”
Tegan killed the engine. “And you don’t trust anyone else to handle your precious cargo with appropriate care.”
I lifted her slight form into my arms. Her head rested against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck as I exited the van with practiced efficiency.
“If you’re quite finished with your analysis, we have a schedule to keep,” I said firmly. “Planet Alpha is fourteen hours away at maximum thrust. I want her settled in the medical bay before she regains consciousness.”
I carried Dr. Parker’s unconscious form up the ship’s loading ramp. She weighed next to nothing against my muscular frame, her warmth seeping through my tactical gear. Behind me, Tegan maneuvered our van onto the loading rig, the hydraulic platform whining under the vehicle’s weight.
“Easy with that,” I called back, pausing at the entrance. “Last thing we need is to damage the ship before takeoff.”
“You worry about your doctor,” Tegan shot back, his fingers dancing across the control panel. “I’ve been flying ships since before you were even a blueprint in some engineer’s wet dream.”
The loading bay sealed behind us with a pressurized hiss. Dr. Parker stirred slightly against my shoulder, a small sound escaping her lips. The sedative would hold for another sixteen hours, but I wanted her safe and secured before then.
I made my way through the narrow corridors to the sleeping quarters, ducking beneath low-hanging conduits. The ship wasn’t built for comfort. It was a repurposed military transport, stripped of weapons and retrofitted for stealth travel. Just functional enough to get us back to Planet Alpha undetected.
The sleeping quarters were sparse—a single bunk fixed to the wall, with basic restraints for space travel. I laid Dr. Parker down with more care than the situation called for, my hands lingering longer than necessary as I adjusted her position. Her hair spilled across the thin pillow, a strand catching on my tactical gear. I brushed it away, struck by the softness of it between my fingers.
“If you’re done tucking her in, I could really use a copilot,” Tegan’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Earth’s orbital security grid activates in fifteen minutes.”
