communications are confidential, for Retrievers only.” She didn’t want to lose credits or become a target herself for revealing the information.
“I’ve already scanned them, my female.” The cables at his wrists pressed against hers. He was a cyborg, had likely read all of her files.
“I don’t like you,” she grumbled.
He laughed.
He was an impossible male. Imee shook her head and read the first communication. It was a reminder to not dispose of dead targets at the retrieval battle station.
She discarded it, scanned the second communication. That information was more administrative refuse. She moved to the second, the third, the fourth.
Imee read the fifth communication once, twice, three times, unable to absorb the words. A Retriever, having fewer solar cycles than she did, had lost control of her targets. They had escaped from their holding chambers and had tried to take over her ship. The ship had blown up, killing every being inside it.
“She made one foolish mistake and she died.” Imee leaned forward, covering her face with her hands, trying to hide from the horror that message invoked.
“Was she a friend?”
“No.” Imee had no friends.
Was that still true? She peeked through her fingers at Mayhem. She’d told him about her family, her role, her fears, and he’d listened, understood. Wasn’t that what a friendship was?
“Do you grieve every loss of life?”
“I’m not grieving her death.” She wouldn’t have him thinking good of her. “My reaction is purely selfish. That Retriever could have been me.”
Mayhem had escaped from his holding chamber, as those other targets had. He had control of her ship. If he had meant her harm, she’d be dead.
“It won’t be you.” He tightened his grip on her.
“It can’t be me.” Her concern wasn’t for her own lifespan. “If I die, I won’t meet quota. If I don’t meet quota, the Humanoid Alliance will torture and kill my mom, my sister, my brother. They’ll inflict the most pain possible before they do that.” Because they were cruel bastards.
“If you continue to capture rebels for the Humanoid Alliance, you will die.” Mayhem was blunt.
And truthful. She would die. She’d thought if she were careful, if Kralj vetted her targets, if she adhered to the rules, trained, planned, she would be safe.
Mayhem had shown her that wasn’t true. Kralj had vetted him yet the male behind her could easily kill her, could end her life in a heartbeat.
There were targets like Kralj, like Mayhem, with powers and skills she could never match. It wasn’t a matter of if she’d die but when.
“All I’m giving my family is time.” She exhaled raggedly. “I’m not trading my targets’ lives for their lives. I’m trading lives for planet rotations.”
“You did what you deemed necessary.”
“I did horrible things.” Memories ravaged Imee, of young kids begging her for mercy, to be set free, to return to their parents, of the lifeless baby still pressed against her dead mother’s chest, of an elderly, white-haired female who had looked at her with such disappointment, as though she’d broken the female’s heart by retrieving her. “All I earned my family was moments.”
“Those moments give us an opportunity to save them, my female.” Mayhem kissed the top of her head. “You’re the best Retriever in the galaxy. Your final targets will be your family. We’ll retrieve them, take them to a planet where they’ll be safe.”
“It’s too risky. If I fail, they’ll die.” She’d be responsible for their deaths also.
“ We won’t fail.”
There shouldn’t be any ‘we.’ The Humanoid Alliance would reward her generously for retrieving one of their cyborg warriors. She might earn the right to see her family, giving her the perfect opportunity to rescue them.
Her mom, sister, brother would be safe but she’d be dead inside. Losing Mayhem would rip her heart out.
Could she do that? She’d sacrificed everything else
“I’ve already scanned them, my female.” The cables at his wrists pressed against hers. He was a cyborg, had likely read all of her files.
“I don’t like you,” she grumbled.
He laughed.
He was an impossible male. Imee shook her head and read the first communication. It was a reminder to not dispose of dead targets at the retrieval battle station.
She discarded it, scanned the second communication. That information was more administrative refuse. She moved to the second, the third, the fourth.
Imee read the fifth communication once, twice, three times, unable to absorb the words. A Retriever, having fewer solar cycles than she did, had lost control of her targets. They had escaped from their holding chambers and had tried to take over her ship. The ship had blown up, killing every being inside it.
“She made one foolish mistake and she died.” Imee leaned forward, covering her face with her hands, trying to hide from the horror that message invoked.
“Was she a friend?”
“No.” Imee had no friends.
Was that still true? She peeked through her fingers at Mayhem. She’d told him about her family, her role, her fears, and he’d listened, understood. Wasn’t that what a friendship was?
“Do you grieve every loss of life?”
“I’m not grieving her death.” She wouldn’t have him thinking good of her. “My reaction is purely selfish. That Retriever could have been me.”
Mayhem had escaped from his holding chamber, as those other targets had. He had control of her ship. If he had meant her harm, she’d be dead.
“It won’t be you.” He tightened his grip on her.
“It can’t be me.” Her concern wasn’t for her own lifespan. “If I die, I won’t meet quota. If I don’t meet quota, the Humanoid Alliance will torture and kill my mom, my sister, my brother. They’ll inflict the most pain possible before they do that.” Because they were cruel bastards.
“If you continue to capture rebels for the Humanoid Alliance, you will die.” Mayhem was blunt.
And truthful. She would die. She’d thought if she were careful, if Kralj vetted her targets, if she adhered to the rules, trained, planned, she would be safe.
Mayhem had shown her that wasn’t true. Kralj had vetted him yet the male behind her could easily kill her, could end her life in a heartbeat.
There were targets like Kralj, like Mayhem, with powers and skills she could never match. It wasn’t a matter of if she’d die but when.
“All I’m giving my family is time.” She exhaled raggedly. “I’m not trading my targets’ lives for their lives. I’m trading lives for planet rotations.”
“You did what you deemed necessary.”
“I did horrible things.” Memories ravaged Imee, of young kids begging her for mercy, to be set free, to return to their parents, of the lifeless baby still pressed against her dead mother’s chest, of an elderly, white-haired female who had looked at her with such disappointment, as though she’d broken the female’s heart by retrieving her. “All I earned my family was moments.”
“Those moments give us an opportunity to save them, my female.” Mayhem kissed the top of her head. “You’re the best Retriever in the galaxy. Your final targets will be your family. We’ll retrieve them, take them to a planet where they’ll be safe.”
“It’s too risky. If I fail, they’ll die.” She’d be responsible for their deaths also.
“ We won’t fail.”
There shouldn’t be any ‘we.’ The Humanoid Alliance would reward her generously for retrieving one of their cyborg warriors. She might earn the right to see her family, giving her the perfect opportunity to rescue them.
Her mom, sister, brother would be safe but she’d be dead inside. Losing Mayhem would rip her heart out.
Could she do that? She’d sacrificed everything else
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