“Mom didn’t like the wall.” Vow stabbed the ground with his digging tool. “She really wouldn’t like a trench.”

  “I didn’t like the wall at first.” She corrected the statement. It had represented her son’s pain.

  “I approve of the wall.” Stealth must have proven his point. He released her hand. “It’s sturdy and well-constructed, cyborg quality.”

  “It edges our agri-lot.” Their son, for the first time in his lifespan, didn’t snap back that he wasn’t a cyborg. Instead, he stood a little taller. “If I put a trench around it, I would be digging on other beings’ lots.” He tossed dirt over his shoulder, not heeding where it landed. “Those beings don’t like me.”

  “Odoon likes you.” She pointed out. The other neighbors tolerated him.

  “Odoon likes you.” Vow pulled on the root plant, shook the soil from it, tossed it to the side. “And he hates the wall, complains about it constantly. I—”

  “We’ll place the trench inside the property.” Stealth redirected their son from that old argument, earning him her gratitude. “If the enemy jumps the wall, they’ll fall into it. That will slow them.”

  Their son paused, his forehead furrowing. “I’ll place spikes in the trenches. That will stop them.”

  “Spoken like a warrior.” Her male praised him.

  “Are the spikes necessary?” She didn’t want their home to resemble a battlefield.

  “I told you.” Their son rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t like the trench.”

  The trench was happening. She doubted she could stop it and it would give them a project to work on together, might bring them closer together. “I don’t like the spikes.”

  “They won’t be visible,” Stealth assured her. “What is the best material to utilize for the spikes?” He returned his attention to their son.

  Vow narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve never designed spikes? You’re a killer.”

  “I’ve killed.” Her warrior jutted his jaw. “Because I and all of our kind were forced to end lives.”

  “They’re not my kind.” Their son had resumed that trying stance. “And don’t humor me. I hate it when beings do that.”

  “Cyborgs don’t humor beings.” Stealth’s digging became as aggressive as their son’s. Dirt flew everywhere. “Choosing the right material for the best quality spikes depends upon many factors. I’m lacking those inputs as there’s very little information in our databases about this planet. This vegetation is unknown.” He held up one of the root plants. “I extrapolated from that, wooded vegetation would be unknown also, and assumed you’d be more familiar with the materials. Was I wrong?”

  “You truly want my input?” Their son continued to doubt his intent.

  It hurt Zebrina’s heart that he was accustomed to being mocked and ridiculed.

  “If I ask you a question, I want your answer.” Her warrior voiced that expectation. “That’s another cyborg trait.”

  The two males gazed at each other.

  If they had been two different cyborgs, she’d assume they were communicating via transmission lines but one of the males was her son and he refused to utilize that part of him.

  A smile slowly spread across their son’s face. “I’ve tested different materials.”

  Her two males chattered as they worked. Zebrina watered the few plants they hadn’t trampled.

  “Do you want him to become a weapon like his father, knowing only war?” Odoon had asked her.

  The male was right. She watched her warrior and her son. If Vow spent time with Stealth, he’d become even more focused on battle than he already was.

  Did she desire that future for their son?

  Chapter Nine

  His son could deny it until his energy drained. That wouldn’t change reality. He was a cyborg. Through and through. There was no altering genetics.

  Cyborgs required interaction with other cyborgs. They were designed to be social beings, to share information and relay their history. Vow was damaging his systems by refusing to communicate.

  Stealth grasped his female’s hand as, later in the shift, they completed a perimeter check. Their son lumbered beside them, his tread as heavy as a human’s.

  They had shared nourishment. The roots hadn’t been flavorful but they hadn’t warranted their son’s vocal dislike of them. The complaints were another symptom of his isolation.

  “Why haven’t you transmitted the knowledge you’ve obtained about Waaban Two?” Their brethren could benefit from those insights.

  “Why haven’t you?” Their son pushed back with another question. His shoulders slouched, his poor posture contributing to his below-optimal movements.

  Honesty required trust. Stealth glanced at his female. And trust required honesty. “The only cyborg I wish to communicate with is walking beside me.”

  “Ugh.” Their son kicked a rock, creating more noise. “You have no friends?”

  “No.” Not living. Tension crept across Stealth’s shoulders.

  “He was right.” Vow said that at a volume only a cyborg could hear. “No one likes cyborgs.

  Stealth gritted his teeth. Based on similar comments his son had been making all planet rotation, he could deduce who the unnamed he was. “I had friends, thousands of them.” The magnitude of his loss almost toppled him. “You will have friends among our kind also.”

  “They’re not my kind.” That protest was weaker than his previous ones.

  “You had friends.” Zebrina gazed up at him, her blue eyes reflecting speculation. “What happened, Stealth?”

  He shook his head, unable to answer. The emotional damage was too much for him to convey.

  She pressed her lips together. Silence stretched.

  His gaze lifted to a tree overhanging a portion of the wall. “Those branches should be removed.” He seized upon that distraction. “The enemy could use them to climb into our terrain.”

  “There’s no enemy.” His female blew out her breath. “We’re not at war.”

  “You mentioned raiding parties.” Those would be hostile. “They’re enemies. And freedom is precious. We can never take it for granted.”

  His brethren had died to keep his female safe. He wouldn’t fail them.

  “I’ll protect you, Mom.” Their son stuck out his chin. “You don’t have to worry about raiding parties.”

  “You’ve protected her up to this point alone.” Stealth acknowledged that feat. “I can help you now.”

  “If you stay here,” Vow muttered.

  “I’m staying with you.” He frowned, having already expressed that intention…multiple times.

  “I can protect myself.” Zebrina lifted her chin. “And the raiding parties won’t bother us. We have a high wall and own nothing of value.”

  Stealth disagreed with her statement. She was a being of value. Any male would wage war to obtain her.

  Any cyborg would die to protect her.

  They returned to the domicile. The sun hugged the horizon, the sky a burst of color. His female stifled a yawn. She required sleep. They didn’t.

  “Vow and I will work on the trenches.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I’ll join you later.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “You’ve been gone for so long and—”

  “I need to hold you and we need to talk.” He stopped her protests. “That’s all we’ll do.”

  He held her gaze. They looked at each other for several heartbeats.

  Her head dipped. “Okay, but that’s it.”

  She entered the domicile. He watched her until the doors closed behind her.

  “I could hear you.” Vow’s tone was dry.

  “I realized that.” He lifted his eyebrows. What was his son going to do about it?

  The newly manufactured K Model stuck out his chin. “If you hurt my mom again, I’ll kill you.”

  Stealth frowned, the again irking him. “You couldn’t kill me. You don’t have the skills. But I would die before hurting your mom…again. I didn’t want to hurt her the first time.”

  “You did hurt her.” Their son grabbed the digging tools, tossed one to him. “How deep should the trench be?”

  “I’m transmitting the specs.” He sent them. “You can receive transmissions, can’t you?”

  “Fuck you.” His son walked toward the wall.

  Stealth chuckled and followed him.

  * * *

  They completed the trenches by midshift, had lined the inside lip with decorative rocks, hoping to appease Zebrina. The overhanging branches had been removed from the trees. They saved the wood. Vow planned to craft spikes and test them.

  Stealth planned to join his female in her chambers.

  First, they both required energy replenishment. His son swung onto the roof and plunked his ass on the brightly colored surface. His legs dangled over the edge. He pulled out two wires from a compartment in the stained stone, handed one to Stealth, stuck the other into his wrist socket.

  Stealth lowered beside him, did the same. Energy coursed through his circuits, his body recharging quickly.

  He stared up at the black sky. There were no clouds as there had been on Ahki, no multitude of ships as there were on the Homeland. Their view was clear. Stars sparkled, those distant suns warming other planets, other lifeforms.

  “That one is closest to the Homeland.” Stealth pointed to the right.

  “Your cyborg brethren will hate me too.” His son crossed his arms protectively in front of him. His flight suit was coated with dirt. “I know they will.”

  Was that why Vow battled being a cyborg? “Offspring are rare and valued.” The other warriors would dote over him, treating him like their own son.

  “They won’t value me.” Vow’s lips drooped. “I’m not like you. I’m not a warrior.”

  “When we first met, you fought me, trying to protect your mom.” Stealth pointed that out to him. “That’s a response a warrior would have.”

  “I didn’t win that fight.” His son stared down at his booted feet. The leather was scuffed and scratched.

  “You didn’t win that fight because you lack training.” And because his opponent had spent his entire fraggin’ lifespan on the battlefield, fighting. He was a difficult warrior to beat.

  “If I was truly a cyborg, fighting would be in my nature.” Vow echoed what he’d told him earlier.

  Zebrina was wrong. Their son listened to everything. He merely acted like he didn’t.

  “Fighting is in our nature.” He’d seen that in Vow also. “The skill is learned. I downloaded the experiences of every cyborg who existed before me. Then I trained for an entire solar cycle, every planet rotation, every moment except for the duration required for regaining energy.”

  His son gaped at him.

  “Even with that, I would have died in my first battle.” Stealth’s lips flattened. “If it hadn’t been for a big C Model and a highly skilled E Model, I’d be dead.” His friends had saved his lifespan…multiple times.

  “Cyborgs are killing machines.” Lines furrowed his son’s forehead.

  “We were given no choice but to kill.” He paused. “And we’re good at it.” He grinned. “Once we learn how to do it.”

  His son frowned at his boots. “You trained and you downloaded information.”

  “And I fought battles.” That was key. “On the Homeland, there are mock battles to give offspring experience.”

  Silence stretched. Stealth wondered if his female was awake, whether she wore garments or was naked, if she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Energy flowed into him. Soon, he’d be able to see her, talk with her, hold her, smell the fresh feminine scent of her hair. He’d find peace for a moment or two. The sadness hanging over him would temporarily dissipate.

  “If I trained and downloaded information and fought in the mock battles, I’d be as good as the other offspring?” His son finally broke the quiet.

  Stealth processed that question. “No.”

  “Oh.” His son’s shoulders slumped once more.

  “You’re my son.” He gazed at the newly manufactured K Model with pride. “You’ll be better than the other offspring…eventually.” He added that input. “At first, you’ll lose more battles than you win. You won’t have a big C Model and a highly skilled E Model to save you.”

  “They were your friends.” His son stated.

  “They were the best friends any cyborg could ever have.” Frag. He missed those two males. Sorrow swirled around him.

  “I don’t have anyone to train me.” His son didn’t look at him.

  “I’ve already started your training.” He’d taught the warrior how to dig a trench. “Test the spikes.” He pulled the wire out of his wrist socket. “We’ll manufacture more and arrange them when the sun is midway in the sky.”

  That should keep his son busy while he spent time with Zebrina.

  Stealth entered the domicile, moved soundlessly through the structure. It was small and simple yet still reflected his female’s tastes. The walls were stained a vivid pink. The neatly folded covering cloths had frilly edges. There were flowers in containers, their perfume scenting the air.

  He slipped into her chambers. Moonlight from a portal slanted across her beautiful face, bathing her lush form in silver. He removed his body armor, his boots.

  “Is that you, my male?” Her voice was drowsy.

  His heart clenched. Which male was she asking for? “It’s me.”

  “You can hold me. I don’t mind.” She turned toward the wall, wiggled forward on the sleeping support, creating room for him. “Do you have enough space?”

  “I have plenty of space.” He slid behind her, pressing his body against hers, and bit back a groan, the contact warming him to his metal frame. His cock hardened, pressing against her ass. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzled against her hair, that softness caressing his skin.

  “Did you dig the trenches?” She whispered her words.

  “Our son matched me for digging speed.” He breathed in her unique scent. His female was in his arms. Finally.

  “Stealth.” She placed her hands over his. “I don’t want him to know war.”

  “I don’t want him to know war either.” He didn’t wish any of his loved ones to experience the darkness and violence and pain he’d endured. “I hope he never uses the skills I’ll teach him but he should acquire them. It is a violent universe and every being he encounters will assume he can fight.”

  She sighed. “The Ahkians assumed he could fight. They knew he was a cyborg. It was impossible to keep quiet.”

  “Any advanced lifeform scan will tell beings he’s a cyborg.” There was no hiding their son’s identity. “He has to be able to defend himself…and his female when he finds her.”

  “I don’t want to lose him in battle…like I could have lost you.”

  “You came close to losing me.” He didn’t want to talk about it but she deserved an explanation. “I almost didn’t survive the last battle on Ahki.”

  “I was told no one fighting for the Humanoid Alliance survived.” The grief in her voice pulled at him. It matched his own and he hadn’t believed that was possible, the depths of his sorrow unending.

  “That last battle was a massacre.” He shuddered, remembering how the enemy had hacked his brethren apart. “They outnumbered us one hundred to one. Not even Boom—” His voice broke.

  “Not even Boom could defeat one hundred opponents.” She completed the sentence for him. “You always said he was your best warrior.”

  “He was.” His friend had fought like a warrior possessed that planet rotation, shooting until his guns were hit by projectiles and then using those weapons as clubs, beating his opponents to mush.

  “Was.” His female’s voice was barely audible.

  “I realized I would die.” He pulled her tighter to him, needing that contact, a partial distraction from his emotional damage. “All I could process was you. The entire duration I was fighting, I replayed our moments together, revisiting every word, every touch, every scent. I hoped you were safe and happy.”

  “I was safe.” She confirmed he had been right about that. “I couldn’t be happy without you.”

  As he couldn’t be happy without her. “I was holding the terrain.” Barely. “The Ahkians shot a missile toward me.” Boom, that big fool, had tried to catch it and missed. “It landed directly in front of me and exploded.” The sound had temporarily shut down his auditory system. “I was flung backward, landed on my ass. Lethal…Lethal—” He couldn’t push the words past his lips.

  “He protected you.” Zebrina guessed incorrectly.

  “He fraggin’ stunned me.” His laugh was harsh, holding no humor. “I couldn’t move. My organics were unable to function. He and Boom, those asses, covered me with the bodies of our brethren.”

  They’d told him he had to survive, had to return to his female, protect her. Even a K Model should be able to do that, Boom had added, and the two warriors had laughed.

  “The bodies concealed you. The Ahkians thought you were dead.” His clever female concluded. “The three of you survived.”

  He shook his head, his vocal system malfunctioning. To say the words…it was too much. He couldn’t.

  “No?” She rolled over, facing him. “You survived.”

  He met her gaze. “I did.” That was all he could say.

  She sucked in her breath. “No.” She shook her head. “No. They can’t be dead. You said they’re still on the Homeland.”

  “Boom wanted…he wanted to touch the surface of the Homeland.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. “That was all he ever wanted.”

  “Oh, fuck.” She hugged him, her breasts flattening against his chest. “You brought him to the Homeland. You brought both of their bodies there.”

  He nodded, his vision clouding as he replayed the scenes from that last battle.

  After Lethal stunned him, his organics hadn’t functioned. He couldn’t lift his arms or his feet.

  His machine side had been fully operational, however. Stealth had watched and listened, unable to do anything as his brethren, his friends transmitted their last moments.