Page 11 of A Cyborg for the Alien Mercenary

“He’s always throwing a hissy fit about costs.” Covak shrugged, turning on the hotplate before throwing the meat on to cook. Within seconds, the heavenly smell of food began to fill the room.

For a moment, silence reigned as Covak focused on cooking his food, and Rann sipped his coffee. Covak eyed his companion over his shoulder. Despite the Latharian’s calm exterior, he’d always been curious about Rann. Dressed in combats, he walked and talked like the mercenary he was. Most of the time. Occasionally he slipped and then he wasallimperial warrior.

Wonder what made him leave that life behind,he pondered, still stealing glances at his comrade over his shoulder.

Of the Reaper crew, only Rann had been aboard longer than he had. Their friendship was built through common battles and mutual respect, but Covak knew only fragments of Rann’s background—gossip and half-heard tales pieced together over time.

The sizzle and pop of the meat in the skillet filled the air, mingling with the aromatic steam rising from Rann’s coffee. Covak inhaled deeply, appreciating the mixture of scents. Coffee and food, his two favorite things.

“Your shoulder rig holding up?” Rann’s voice cut through Covak’s reverie.

He flipped the meat, watching with satisfaction as the edges crisped to perfection. “The big gun? Never lets me down. Only problem I have is finding enough enemies to put it through its paces.”

Rann chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “The day we run out of enemies is the day we can all retire.”

Covak snorted. “We’d all go crazy within a week.”

Comfortable silence settled over them again for a few minutes. Then Covak glanced over his shoulder at Rann, who had abandoned the flex and was staring into his mug, lost in his thoughts.

“Ever regret it?” Covak asked, breaking the silence.

Rann looked up. “Regret what?”

“Leaving the empire. Joining us,” Covak clarified as he carried his meal over to the table. He dropped into the seat opposite Rann.

The Latharian leaned back. “Sometimes yes, mostly no.” He shrugged. “The food is usually better. Unless you’ve eaten it all.”

“Can’t argue there,” Covak said, his stomach rumbling again as he dug into his meal. “Speaking of, pass me the sauce?”

Rann complied, sliding a bottle of hot sauce across the table. He watched silently as Covak piled it on the mountain of sizzling meat and crispy vegetables.

As Covak ate, Rann got up and went to the freezer, digging around for a moment before pulling out a tub of ice cream. He grabbed a spoon and carried his prize back to the table.

Covak eyed him with amusement. “Someone’s feeling brave today.”

Rann grinned as he dug into the ice cream. “Just don’t tell Ryke. You know how he gets about his ice cream.”

Covak shook his head with a chuckle. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Silence reigned as they ate, the only thing more serious to a Reaper than combat.

“Speaking of Ryke,” Rann said, standing and starting to gather up their dishes. “He’s been in his office all day. Planning, probably. I haven’t seen him this absorbed since… well, a long time.”

“You think he’s worried about this job?” Covak asked, genuinely curious. It took something significant to make their fearless leader retreat into solitude.

“Worried, maybe. Focused, definitely. Something about this mission feels… different.”

Covak nodded, finishing the last of his meal. “Yeah, well… we’re headed into human space. What do we allreallyknow about humans? Apart from Tell, and he doesn’t count. He’s weird at the best of times.”

Rann chuckled as he dropped the dishes into the cleansing unit. “Yeah, he really is. Well, whatever it is about this job that has Ryke’s panties in a twist, we’ll deal with it. It’s what we do.”

Covak clapped a hand on Rann’s shoulder before heading for the door. “Frexxing right we do.”

She didn’t thinkshe’d seen a room so devoid of character, even for a doctor’s office. And since she’d seen many of them since she’d woken up, that was saying something.

Jesh sat in the uncomfortable chair, drumming an irregular beat on the armrest. The harsh lights cast a sickly pallor over everything. Dr. Lewis bustled around her, his white coat swishing as he moved from one piece of equipment to another, running tests she’d long since lost count of.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of disinfectant, a smell that made Jesh’s nose wrinkle. She’d spent far too much time in places like this, but thankfully she couldn’t remember it all. The steady beep of monitors filled the silence, a constant refrain she even heard in her dreams.

---