She shrieked and slapped her palms against the wall, accidentally knocking one of Zeph’s monstrous trophies to the ground.
“Jaaanet.” The slithering, deep whisper filled her ears. Her back was covered in heat and she knew without feeling him that Zeph shielded her from head to toe. She rested her brow against the wall as sharp nails grazed her neck, spine, and tailbone, tearing little holes through her shirt in their wake, only to end with two large hands grabbing her waist. He yanked her hips backward and pressed her against his erection. “Jaaanet, stop fighting me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m not fighting…”
The lights flickered overhead and the room faded into darkness.
His voice slipped into her ear again. “I can smell your fucking cunt from a mile away.” The tips of his teeth pressed into her earlobe. “I can smell lavender billions of miles away from Earth. I’m addicted.”
“W-why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s too damn dangerous to take you back to Kepler. Because no one saysnoto me without regretting it. You may have thought to seduce me to get your way, maybe even convinced yourself it’s for the greater service of getting your sister home, but this has nothing to do with her.” He pressed into her back, pushing her front into the wall. “But you’re going to fuck me anyway, despite her being here or not. Convince yourself of anything you want if it makes you happy, but know you’remyfucking trophy, and I’m keeping you.” He let go of her and she gasped, sliding down the wall and onto her knees. The lights came on when she turned to look at him.
He stood over her, blocking out the light from above, and stealing her ability to form words. “Zeph…” she choked out, hating herself for missing the warmth of his body.
“I’m not fucking Zeph.”
The ship’s intercom came on overhead, breaking the nightmarish tension. Bin’s voice filled the space but Janet barely heard it. Her eyes remained glued to the Cyborg towering over her.
“Master, there’s a fleet of ships outside requesting your immediate surrender.”
7
Gunner
A whirling vortex of numbers spun around Gunner’s head. The mathematical equivalent of a symphony orchestra playing out of key.So this is Zeph’s defense network.Gunner thought to himself, snarling through the chaos.Not bad. This would stop most human or even alien hackers. Shame he didn’t invest in something a little more dangerous.
Gunner’s presence shouldered through the looping randomization algorithm and deep intoOppression’srelays. He was moving too quickly for the ship to adjust its defensive tactics. A small subroutine, isolated to a single processor, caught his eye as he dove deeper and deeper through cyberspace towards the central logic unit. It flashed and pulsed as if responding to some kind of user input.I wonder what he’s trying to hide, the jackal thought as he chased the process thread.
...
Heartface accepted the game’s parameters—the same default parameters Mistress Lily had given him since game one.
The algorithm began.
Heartface was destined to forever lose. It was programmed. Mistress Lily’s happiness, within the boundary conditions provided by Zeph, was the robot’s priority. Its visual feed flickered. The robot’s face-display went black.
Heartface missed its move.
The game vanished.
…
“It’s your turn!”
Gunner lifted the robots head, scanned the room, and downloaded the visual. When he noticed the room was empty, he turned back to the little girl.
Bright blues peered up at him.
“You must be Lily.” His voice came out far softer and much higher than he’d like. “What the fuck is this?”
A squealed laugh stunted his diagnostic efforts.
“Mr. Heartface cursed! I’m gonna teeell,” the girl threatened with a smile.
“Mr. Heartface?” Gunner spat.
“Because your face.”
