Surrender to the Cyborgs(6)
But I was innocent. Surely my attorney and my friends on the outside would figure out the truth. I had to believe the judge sitting my case would see through the prosecution’s lies.
“If you didn’t want to be a bride, then why did you follow your attorney’s recommendation for processing?” Her question struck a nerve, but I refused to back down. I refused to believe the justice system would fail me so completely.
“Just in case.”
Her nod was quick and precise. “Exactly. And now you have an NPU, just in case.”
She threw my own words back at me, but the underlying tone made it clear she believed I would be back, sooner rather than later. And if the system failed me and I was convicted, maybe I would come back. That dream. My body still ached with lust. I wanted those big hands on my body. I felt like I was a touch starved idiot, but I wouldn’t stop thinking about the way their hands had stroked my skin, their huge cocks had stretched me open. The intense pleasure as I’d ridden them to the strongest orgasm of my pathetic life.
A fake orgasm, from some stupid computerized highjack of my brain. If I understood the process correctly, I’d been living another woman’s actual memories, experiencing what she experienced.
The whole thing freaked me out. And I didn’t want to leave Earth. I wanted my damn life back, and I was going to get it.
I could survive another two months in solitary. I refused to break. But a nagging voice had begun to haunt me in the quiet silence of my existence in the prison. Even if I beat the charges and won my appeal, what would become of me? Even if I were allowed to go home, would I ever be truly free? If the charges were dropped, if my name was cleared, there would always be those who doubted, who would consider me and any data I found to be tainted. No lab would touch me. At least not in the US. I’d have to relocate, start a new life.
And if I didn’t win, if the system failed? I’d either be shackled and jailed for decades or be sent to a new planet where I would be at the mercy of not one huge alien, but two.
Sounded like, one way or the other, I was already doomed to serving a life sentence.
Chapter Two
Maxim, Governor of Base 3, Prillon Colony Planet, Sector 901
The crush of heavy combat boots filled the narrow hallway with a loud, clomping sound. My steps were eager, too eager, and yet I could not force myself to slow my pace as I hurried to the communications center. Warden Egara, the female in charge of the Colony’s new Interstellar Brides Processing center on Earth, waited to speak to me. I had to assume she had news, news of a matched mate for one of the soul-weary soldiers under my command. News those of us condemned to live out our lives on the Colony very much needed to hear.
“Ryston.” I nodded, my expression grim as my chosen Second, Captain Ryston Rayall, my friend and brother-in-arms for many years, fell into step beside me. Covered head to toe in the mottled black-and brown-armor of a Prillon warrior, I was both relieved and worried by his presence.
“I hear there is news from Earth.” His expression was grim. Despite the pale golden color of his hair and eyes, his gaze was dark. Rejected by his family after his rescue, he’d become a shadow of his former self. Mean. Bitter. Reckless and unpredictable. Bad news would not improve his temperament nor his current mood.
“I am on my way, brother. Patience. I do not yet know what Warden Egara will say.” I thumped him on the shoulder in affection. He was my most trusted friend and closest ally on this base. I would trust no other with a mate, despite his recent sullenness. He was a fierce fighter, honorable to the core. I had no doubt a female’s sweet touch could banish the darkness from his heart and bring my friend back to life.
“She is probably going to tell you that none of you fuckers have a match and we’re all fools for hoping.” His growl was full of pain, but he could not hide his hope from me. If he did not hope, he would not have rushed to be at my side to hear the news from Earth.
“That would imply that I am not perfect, Ryston. We both know that is not the case.”
Ryston’s soft chuckle was his only response, but some of the tension drained from my shoulders and neck. It was good to face whatever might come with Ryston at my back. As Governor of Base 3, it was my duty to set an example for the other contaminated warriors here. All good men, the warriors on the Colony had served their planets well, fought the Hive menace and suffered at the enemies’ hands. Everyone on the Colony carried the scars of that fight, for what the Hive captured, they tried to make their own. Hive Integration Units tortured Coalition fighters, converting them into new machines for the Hive to deploy, new Hive-controlled soldiers, walking weapons. Those of us lucky enough to survive and return to our units with our minds intact were sentenced to a fate that, for some, was worse than death—banishment. For as advanced as the Interstellar Coalition’s technology had become, there were still things that could not be undone.