That might not bother her cyborg. He didn’t hold a high opinion of humans and humanoids.
But it would bother his more soft-hearted friend. Valor wanted to be liked, to be accepted.
She preferred to be the being hated. “I will always be in danger and that will torment you.”
Her male was extremely protective of her.
“I’m not allowing you out of my sightlines.” Malice confirmed her suspicions. “But there is a mere 0.2539 percent probability you will always be in danger. According to Cadet, the cyborgs who aren’t tolerant of humans are isolated to a sector on Mercury Minor.” His spine straightened and his stance widened. “If any of them do come near us, I’ll turn them into mush.” That was said a bit too zealously for Illona’s comfort. “Someone else will have to repair them because you’ll be repairing the females.”
“I’ll be overseeing the healing of all the humans and humanoids, not merely the females.” She corrected him.
The prospect of having patients again excited her. She’d missed that so very much.
“97.1981 percent of the humans and humanoids on Mercury Minor are female.” His smug tone relayed that pleased her possessive male.
She was unlikely to find a medic role anywhere else with a patient load that skewed so heavily female. “I would have a new medic bay.” That appealed to her also. “And access to a variety of devices and supplies.”
The Humanoid Alliance had greatly limited her resources. And, before they had captured her, she had healed near battlefields, had only the supplies and devices she could easily carry.
“I could help so many beings.” She would better honor Medic Anahit, her mentor, in those surroundings.
Illona’s gaze lost focus as she envisioned an immaculately clean, cutting-edge medic bay. Life-saving equipment would line the chambers. There would be pain inhibitors for everyone who hurt. Beings would walk out of its doors, fully healed, whole. There would be no deaths due to lack of supplies, no babies screaming in agony.
She sighed. Stars. She wanted those facilities.
“We’re choosing Mercury Minor.” Malice’s voice was firm.
She blinked, returning to the present. “The decision isn’t that easy.”
“It is that easy.” Her cyborg kissed her hard on the lips. “You want your new medic bay. I want that for you. You’ll repair beings. I’ll pound into the ground anyone who tries to touch you.” He flexed his biceps. “We’ll breed. Often. Valor will have the role he wants. There will be human and humanoid females for him to chatter to, and he won’t expect a constant stream of words from me. We’ll all be fraggin’ happy.”
Illona stared at him. “That would make you happy?”
“You make me happy.” Her warrior lowered his hands, drifting them over her form, leaving a trail of excitement, of desire, on her skin. “We’ll talk to Valor, relay our answer to Cadet.” He squeezed her hips. “But first, we have to breed.”
He considered the matter of their future to be closed…and she supposed it was decided. The only reservation she’d had about Mercury Minor was the possibility of not being accepted by some of the cyborgs, and Malice didn’t appear to care about that. Her C Model cyborg might relish that excuse to fight.
And she really wanted to have access to a new medic bay.
“We’re going to Mercury Minor.” She smiled at the male she adored.
“We’re going to Mercury Minor.” Malice nodded. Approval and anticipation and love shone in his brilliant blue eyes. “But first, we’ll breed.”
“But first, we’ll breed.” She laughed, overjoyed, in love, and so very alive.
Chapter Eighteen
The modified freighter landed on Mercury Minor seventeen planet rotations later. Malice’s little medic tended to her patients over that duration. And they made good use of the storage chamber, breeding multiple times a planet rotation.
His female hosted as many of his nanocybotics as he could relay. Malice breathed deeply, smelling himself on her. Other cyborgs would process she was his. And she would repair faster if she was damaged.
The prospect of his fragile human being harmed unnerved him. Greatly.
She wouldn’t be leaving his arms until he was 100.0000 percent certain she was safe. He hefted her higher against his body armor-covered chest.
Her own garments were useless, wouldn’t protect her from a fraggin’ thing.
Grudge, the C Model with the purely mechanical arm, had found flight suits for Illona and the humanoid females. His medic’s garment was much too large for her and it was red, not light blue as her role warranted, but it would suffice.
She wore her white jacket over it. Anyone they met, if their processors were fully functional, would realize she was a medic, would give her the respect a being holding that role deserved.
If they didn’t treat her that way, Malice would pound that deference into them. He widened his stance as they waited for Cadet to authorize their exit from the human-and-humanoid chamber.
The newly freed cyborgs, with the exception of himself and Valor, were being escorted from the ship first. They would be transported to their cyborg-only terrain, where they would be far from his breakable human.
“I should check on my patient.” Illona wiggled in Malice’s arms.
The human female rested on a portable sleeping support. She repaired appallingly slowly and was unable to walk to their transport.
His female would have the same vulnerability if she didn’t host his nanocybotics. He silently vowed to breed with her as soon as they were alone.
“The J Model is watching over your patient.” And he would watch over his little medic. He tightened his hold on her. No one would touch her.
He caught Valor’s gaze, inclined his head toward Illona.
The E Model nodded. His friend would keep her safe if something happened to him.
Valor inclined his head toward the humanoid females. They crowded close to his friend. Their eyes were wide with worry and they were unusually quiet.
Malice huffed. The warrior wanted him to protect those females also.
Then he would do that. He nodded. Protecting the humanoid females would make his friend happy, and participating in a battle would bring him joy.
Fraggin’ hole. Doing anything, other than waiting, would give him pleasure.
Energy surged through his circuits. His senses were on high alert.
He looked at his female.
“We’re not breeding right now.” Her cheeks turned red. “We are in a—”
The door opened. Her words stopped.
Cadet stepped forward, gazed at him, at his female, and sighed. “You plan to carry her the entire time…because, of course you are. You’re a C Model, and you don’t trust anyone other than yourself to protect her.”
Malice grunted. That was exactly what he was processing.
The female cyborg shook her head. “I’m not carrying that arrogant warrior.” She grumbled that illogical response. “He can protect his blasted own self.”
Malice lifted his eyebrows.
“Follow me.” Cadet said that louder.
She turned and stomped out of the chamber, along the hallway.
Malice hunched over his female, shielding her with his form, and followed Cadet. He monitored the space around them as he carried his fragile little human through the modified freighter.