Mated to mek, p.1
Mated to Mek, page 1
Mated to Mek
Galactic Pirate Brides
Book Five
Tamsin Ley
Love is the ultimate experiment…
Betrayed by her family
Rashana was just a child when her father locked her away in his laboratory, subjecting her to unspeakable horrors in the name of science. Now, years later, her telepathic abilities terrify lab techs and her father alike. When a revolt leads to her father’s death and rebels seize the lab, she expects her torment to go on. Yet the alien doctor’s charming bedside manner awakens an unexpected yearning in her heart, and his touch is anything but torture.
A doctor’s oath
After the destruction of his home planet, Mek never believed he’d meet a female of his species again. Then he discovers Rashana in a stasis pod on board an enemy ship. She’s an impossibility - a hybrid between his species and humans - and despite her justified hostility and anger, he finds himself drawn to the intriguing female for more than simply research.
Healing more than hearts
As they work together to harness her powers, their trust blossoms into a passion that can’t be denied. But as Rashana uncovers more about her past, she also uncovers a terrifying secret that could destroy everything she’s come to cherish.
Chapter One
Rashana lay on her narrow bed watching the stars through the small view screen embedded in the ship’s wall. The glowing crescent of a single, pock-marked planet hovered in the blackness, far away from the warmth of its sun. Was there life on that planet? She tried to recall the feeling of fresh air, flowing water, and dirt beneath her feet, but her memories were those of a small child, suspect and out of reach. She’d lived too many years imprisoned in this cell.
Her living space was a mere eighteen and a half paces from one end to the other. One wall was made of a thick translucent polymer, looking into the bio engineering lab with its blinking equipment attended by techs in blue coveralls. The other walls were a dull, gray metal which she imagined existed throughout the spaceship. She had a desk and a chair, a closet with a few basic shirts and pants, and a private bathroom. A single, scraggly potted plant rested on the edge of her desk—a gift from a tech who’d disappeared from the project the day after giving it.
Rashana suspected Father had gotten rid of the nice lady, just like he’d gotten rid of Rashana’s piles of stuffed animals, photos, and flouncy yellow and pink bedcovers when Rashana turned seventeen. Mother had given her the coverlet for her tenth birthday. But no matter how much Rashana had screamed and struggled to keep her things, Father wouldn’t budge. He insisted the items held too much emotional memory and were holding her back. And Rashana’s emotions were dangerous.
She’d torn a piece off the blanket by using her power to make one of the confiscating techs believe he was in cardiac arrest. The scrap was now hidden away in a corner of her closet. Six years had passed since then, and that small bit of pink fabric was her only remaining link to the good times, the joyful times, the days filled with love. But also a reminder of the way her mother’s elegant features had twisted in confusion as she died.
Rashana gripped the bed’s simple white coverlet against the feelings rising inside her. Father was always watching, and she didn’t want him to know she was having a moment. She fixed her gaze on a faraway cluster of stars that reminded her of two people holding hands. Mother and Father had never held hands, as far as she knew, but she liked to imagine they might’ve someday. That the three of them could’ve been a normal family.
A sound from the lab drew her attention, and she looked away from the view screen. Father approached, carrying a meal tray, his face unreadable as ever. She sucked in a breath. He usually had a tech deliver her food. He must’ve noticed my emotions. Releasing a calming breath, she sat up, readying answers for the inevitable barrage of questions.
Father placed the tray into the delivery dispenser, and the tray slid from his side to hers with a hum and a click of the slot’s protective hatches. The rich scent of cheesy noodles drifted into the room. Her mouth started to water immediately. Father never let her have the fattening food. Said it made both body and mind sluggish and weak.
She looked up to meet his piercing black eyes, wishing she could use her power to sense his intent. The thick polymer blocked her abilities. “What’s this for?” she asked.
His mouth curved upward into a tight smile. “Can’t a father show affection for his daughter?”
Affection. When was the last time she’d felt that from him? Or from anyone, for that matter? People only entered her cell wearing full ionic shield gear, and nobody touched her. Ever. Not even Father, except with his inoculation gun or to take a tissue sample.
In a rare gesture of emotion, Father patted the glass with his palm. She was too startled to respond, and by the time she reached up to tap back, he was already pivoting toward the lab’s exit.
“Wait!” She pressed both hands against the window.
He paused next to a tech at one of the incubators and turned back, arms loose at his sides. But his lips pursed as if in annoyance. “Enjoy your meal, daughter. I’ll check back later.” Then he bent and murmured something to the tech before continuing out the door.
Rashana’s heart sank with disappointment, followed by the flush of resentment she always felt after her failed attempts to interact.
The tech began cleaning his station, his actions rushed, and she wondered what new project her father was sending the guy on now. Not that the tech would tell her. Although there was almost always someone in the lab, personnel seldom spoke to her, at least not in idle conversation. Father discouraged them from interacting with patients.
She sat down at her desk to eat. Father’d also provided a glass of sweet oonon soda—a treat he reserved for when one of his experiments went particularly well. He must’ve had success in one of the other labs. She took a big swallow and smiled as the bubbles sparkled over her tongue, then dug into the rich, buttery meal. This was the closest thing to pleasure she’d experienced in a very long time.
Belly full, she rose and placed her empty tray back into the dispenser. “Tell Father I said thank you,” she called to the tech. “And congratulations on his project.”
The guy didn’t respond, avoiding her gaze. Jerk. Most of the techs would at least make eye contact or nod.
She turned her back on him and stared at the view screen. Usually after her meal, she read a book or paced the room listening to music. But her body felt strangely heavy and weak, and her eyelids drooped with sleepiness. Too much fatty food? Perhaps Father was right about the need to avoid it. She sat on the edge of her bed. The room seemed to spin around her, forcing her to flop backward onto the mattress.
Realization swept through her mind, adding to the dizzying sensation. This wasn’t normal lethargy. The food hadn’t been a show of affection. It had been drugged. He tricked me. But why?
She blinked stupidly up at the gray ceiling, each moment of darkness lasting longer and longer. A whoosh reached her ears, the rare sound of her chamber door opening, but she couldn’t turn her head. Couldn’t open her eyes as booted feet clumped into the room. Helpless, she felt the clothing stripped from her body. But still no skin-on-skin contact. Only gloved hands lifting her, carrying her.
Father’s voice flowed in and out of her awareness. “… too dangerous… variables… self-destruct…”
Nausea rolled through her as she tried to reach out with her powers, to find a mind that would give her some insight about what was happening. Ionic shielding blocked everything, and all she picked up was the reek of fear. Of urgency. Her arms and legs felt as boneless as noodles when the hands released her, but she managed a momentary flutter of her eyelids. She seemed to be inside a narrow metal box. A coffin?
Please don’t let it be a coffin. Terror entered her heart for the first time since her mother’s death. She knew her father had contemplated putting her out of her misery. Had worried she might be too much liability to his precious project. She’d sensed it in his thoughts several times before he perfected the ionic shielding that sealed her cell.
The half-light behind her closed eyelids winked out as the lid closed above her, and the air turned stale with her own exhalations. Unable to move, she screamed silently inside her mind. No! Please! I’ll be good!
A chill touched her skin. Sank into her bones. She realized she must be in a cryopod, not a coffin. She’d seen the techs put plenty of specimens “on ice” for future study.
Of course Father would want her body preserved; he often referred to her as his greatest creation. Now the meal made more sense. He had more daughters like her. He was celebrating her replacement. Providing her a last meal before she joined his other failed experiments.
As her body grew numb with cold, her thoughts burned. If she ever escaped this pod, she was going to make him pay.
Chapter Two
Mek stepped off the Hardship’s ramp and into the cavernous bay of the flagship. The Icarus was an incredible trophy for the rebellion, especially with the cyborg crew now joining the cause. Tools and supplies lay scattered across the deck, and a couple of charred spots on the deck were obviously from weapons fire.
But right now Mek’s mind wasn’t on the fight or the rebellion. It was on the puzzling contents of a long metal cryopod waiting at the far end of the deck.
Tovik, the Hardship’s young engineer, thundered down the ramp behind Mek, his bare feet slapping the metal deck as he pelted toward the pod. Or, more likely, toward the blond human female standing among
the cyborgs grouped around it. Ever since the Denaidans had discovered nanites that would allow them to not only couple with human females, but successfully form a mate bond, Tovik was fixated on the opposite sex.
To be fair, most Denaidans were at the moment. After fifteen years of celibacy, they had good reason. Mek, however, had little interest in pursuing a female. Any thoughts he had about sex tended to be clinical. He desperately needed to understand human physiology and so he could facilitate successful procreation between their species. So far, none of the pairings had successfully become pregnant, and without children, his race was still doomed. He didn’t have time to dally with love.
Picking up his pace, he hurried toward the waiting group. Tovik had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, and blond-haired Attie was already mated to Doug, the Icarus’s cyborg captain. The last thing the rebellion needed was to alienate their new allies.
Thankfully, the kid seemed to be focused on the pod’s glowing purple interface. His fingers tapped a rapid staccato against the pod’s metal casing as he spoke. “…until the doc has a look.”
A red-headed human cyborg took a half step forward as Mek drew near, fists clenched at his sides as if raring for a fight. “You’re the doc, right?” he directed at Mek. “Let’s bust it open.”
Tovik vaulted over the pod to put himself between it and the cyborg. “Uminaq, no!” He swore and shook his head. “Last time we found a cryopod, there was a girl inside. Forcing it open might harm whoever’s in there.”
Attie nodded in support and shot a dirty look toward the cyborg who’d suggested breaking in. “That’s why I insisted on having a doctor on hand before we do anything, Rust.”
Doug tapped the pod’s surface with a polymer fingertip. “The lid’s locking mechanism uses a revolving algorithm that’s impossible for even my skills to crack.” His green cybernetic eye flashed. “Dollard went to great lengths to keep whoever or whatever’s inside this thing secured.”
“That asshole thought it was important enough to die for,” said the Enayshuan cyborg, his metallic facial tattoos like silver slashes against his dark skin. “He lost both arms trying to get it onto the shuttle.”
“Hope the fucker took a long time bleeding out,” muttered Rust.
“Well, you were wise to wait for me.” Mek examined the glowing purple screen on the pod’s dark metal surface. “This interface looks complicated.” The biometric data was as confusing as the pod itself, with displays of information for multiple species. Yet, the pod wasn’t large enough to contain more than a single large cyborg. Wondering how big the occupant might be, he ran his fingertips over the lid. This pod wasn’t a standard unit, and there wasn’t even a window to view the occupant, which was a shame; knowing what sort of life form he’d be dealing with could help him prepare in the event things went sideways when it opened.
Straightening, he glanced toward where the Hardship sat parked on the deck of the shuttle bay, its mismatched plating and sensor arrays as unique to it as the implants on a cyborg. He had a decent stock of basic medical supplies on board, but the Icarus likely had a better facility.
“I assume you have a working med bay?” he asked. “I’d prefer to open this there in case something goes wrong.”
“We were going to take it to Dollard’s lab in case there’s a cyborg inside, but one of the pod’s mag lifts isn’t working,” said Doug, pointing to the head of the pod.
“And this damned crate’s heavier than it has any right to be.” Rust flexed both hands. “Either that, or my arms need recalibrated.”
Tovik bent to examine the transportation clips at one end of the pod. “Bet I can fix that.”
Knowing there was no holding the kid back when it came to mechanics, Mek sighed and nodded. “Fine. But don’t touch the bio controls, Tovik. The mag lift only.”
“I promise,” Tovik said, already prying open a control panel.
Leaving Attie to lend a hand finding parts, Doug led Mek to the lift and down several corridors into the flagship’s belly until they reached the lab. Stainless steel exam tables had been pushed against the walls, and several cupboards hung open, exposing every type of medical equipment imaginable. There were signs of a fight here, too, with control panel wiring hanging from walls and a large stain on the floor that was most likely blood. Doors to what appeared to be prison cells stood open along three of the walls.
“This is the cybernetic lab,” said Doug. “There’s also a cloning lab, but someone turned off the incubators before the evacuation, and the place reeks. Or we have a standard med bay if you prefer.”
Mek surveyed the tools and supplies scattered around the various lab tables. Compared to his tiny med bay on board the Hardship, this lab was a doctor’s wet dream. The cupboards had everything from first aid supplies to more advanced tools he assumed were for cybernetic maintenance and repair. He grimaced when he noticed the thick, dangling straps on one exam table—it was very obvious the patients in this room hadn’t always been willing.
“This should be fine.” He began organizing equipment he thought he might need, including an emergency methane breather in case the pod held a species who couldn’t breathe oxygen. Wondering how much longer Tovik would be, he glanced toward the nearest computer monitor. “Mind if I look at the doctor’s research while I wait? I’m not too familiar with cyborg tech, and I might need it.”
Doug nodded. “Have at it. We already hacked most of the firewalls.”
Booting up a computer console, Mek skimmed several folders, uncertain where to start. Dollard had been cocky in assuming the flagship would successfully self-destruct, or else he’d never have left so much information intact. There were hundreds of files detailing biological studies, cybernetic implants, and nanite inter-connectivity. Excitement swelled in Mek’s chest. Information about the nanites might help with his current research.
The door whooshed open, and the pod came gliding into the room ahead of Tovik. “Told ya’ I could get it working,” he announced before pausing to ogle the lab equipment. He reached for a hunk of cable dangling from a many-armed contraption that looked uncomfortably like a torture device. “Asirpaa! What’s this do?”
“Don’t touch, kid,” Doug said gruffly.
Tovik flushed and dropped his hand. “I was only curious.”
Mek pulled a hard line from his computer and attached it to the pod’s interface, hoping it might automatically bring up the proper files. A graph opened on the screen and he couldn’t help smiling. Finally, a stroke of luck. He cycled through several data points before pausing on a biometric reading that appeared to be ionic.
He frowned. “This looks Denaidan.”
Tovik pushed in to look over his shoulder. “One of us is in there? Really?”
“Only one way to find out.” Taking a deep breath, Mek initiated the pod’s waking cycle.
The pod gave a series of soft clicks, and with a whoosh, the chamber lid cracked down the middle, releasing a cloud of mist.
“Uminaq!” Mek’s twin hearts thudded painfully against his ribs. A normal cryopod should take hours to establish equilibrium before it opened. Had he done something wrong? A rapid reawakening could cause severe cognitive damage or even death.
He waved one hand to clear the air, squinting through the thick clouds still billowing from inside. The lid had retracted into the base, but he couldn’t get a clear view of the occupant. He stepped closer, leaning down for a look, and let out a sharp breath.
Reclining against the foam inside rested a female. A stunning, naked female.
Black hair with glinting silver highlights framed her high cheekbones and fanned over the swells of her bare breasts, while mist obscured her lower half. Was she Denaidan? He’d never seen someone of his species with such pale, pearly skin, but she might have partial albinism. He longed to run his hands over every inch of her to see if she felt as silken as she appeared. To cup her breasts and taste the slight pout of her plump lower lip...
He shook his head, trying to clear it of wayward thoughts. It had been ages since he’d had this sort of reaction to a female, even a naked one.
