original design , his mind tried to
argue, but he squashed the thought. She was unique, a one of a kind. Something
fragile that needed to be protected.
Obviously she didn’t think along quite the same lines,
because the next second she was stepping around him to fix the corporal with a
steely glare.
“Who’s to say they didn’t start something? How about me,
Hawkins? I’ll say they didn’t start anything. What you going to do…shoot
me as well?”
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Lyon’s heart stopped. She was trying to get herself
killed. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her back behind the protective bulk of his
body and added a glare for good measure. The one she gave him back was blistering.
If it had been a weapon, she’d have gutted and flayed him alive. Holding his
gaze in warning, she deliberately stepped around him again.
“Well, Hawkins? You planning on getting rid of the witnesses
as well? Me and your whole troop?”
She walked toward the corporal as she spoke. Lyon wasn’t
sure which of them was the nuttier; the twitchy corporal or the frankly insane
woman he’d been trying to protect.
The muzzle of Hawkins’ rifle swung around, aiming straight
at the center of her chest. Helpfully, Lyon’s onboard comp fed him details of
what would happen to Samara if the marine fired. It didn’t make for a pretty
picture. He’d already started to lean forward, hand outstretched to wrap around
her upper arm when another voice broke into the conversation.
Cold and hard as space, it cut through the tension in the
corridor like a whip. “That’s a question I’d very much like answering as well,
Corporal Hawkins.”
The marine squad tensed en masse. Their eyes were all dead
center, watching the two cyborgs, but Lyon could tell their attention wasn’t
actually on them. Instead it was riveted to the slender man in a Fleet
Captain’s uniform walking down the corridor behind them.
Captain Marisol–Lees. The guy in charge of the ship. He
looked younger than Lyon had expected. His face was unlined and his longer than
regulation dark hair didn’t show any hint of gray.
The captain reached the back of the squad, which parted like
water to let him pass. Lyon took advantage of the distraction, grabbed Samara
and shoved her behind him, holding her in place with a hard hand on her wrist.
“I’m sure you’re not trying to inflame the situation here
solely over your…dislike of cyborgs. Are you, Corporal?”
Hawkins’ gaze shifted sideways to his superior officer. The
agony of indecision was written on his face as his eyes flicked between the
cyborgs and the captain.
“Because in case you hadn’t noticed, they do have a
hostage…”
Samara, who’d been busy trying to prize Lyon’s grip from her
wrist, looked up and waved helpfully. Lyon resisted the urge to close his eyes
and shake his head. Game face on, he smiled tightly at the captain.
“That’s not all. Cael, drop the mute.”
A dry, measured tone filled the air in the corridor; the
sound of the ship’s computer. “Self-destruct sequence initiated… Three minutes,
twenty-four seconds to self-destruct.”
The announcement dropped into a silence so complete Lyon was
surprised tumbleweeds didn’t roll past. It was a desolate wasteland of
soundlessness as Captain Marisol–Lees fixed Lyon with a steely gaze.
“Well played, Colonel.” A wry grin twisting his lips, the
captain inclined his head. A lock of dark hair fell over one eye. “Now what do
I have to give you in exchange for the release of my ship?”
Lyon didn’t let any hint of his surprise show on his face at
being referred to by his rank. His files would be sealed; Combined Fleet
Command didn’t like people having access to the complete FUBAR they’d made of
the cyborg project, so Marisol–Lees wouldn’t have seen that. Which left the
only other option… He could read the code on Lyon’s cheek.
He let the silence stretch out. Next to the captain, Hawkins
was going redder and