Page 40 of Deserted

Its core glowed sickly green—the same color as the buried shard. Not coincidence. They were communicating, coordinating. And where there was one drone, others would follow.

“Run for the rocks!” I shouted to Jas, who had taken cover behind a jutting piece of ancient riverbed debris. “I’ll draw it off!”

Through our bond, I felt her resistance. Her refusal to leave me. Stubborn, brave, foolish woman. My mate. Mine to protect.

“Like hell I will!” she called back, already scrambling for the Legion-issue sidearm I’d given her earlier. Not powerful enough to damage the drone, but enough to distract it, perhaps.

The drone twisted mid-air, sensors focusing on her movement. I used its momentary distraction to close the distance, blade arcing toward one of its spindly limbs.

The blade connected with its joint—once, twice. Sparks flew. It screeched like metal in pain and spun mid-air, slicing at me with one elongated claw. Blood spilled from my arm. I ignored it.

Pain was irrelevant. The mission—protecting Jas—was all that mattered.

I pressed the attack, forcing the drone to engage with me rather than pursue my mate. Its movements were becoming more erratic, less predictable. Adapting. Learning. This wasn’t a simple sentinel unit like those we’d encountered before. This was something older, more sophisticated. A hunter.

It slashed again, faster than I anticipated. The claw caught my shoulder, tearing through the reinforced fabric of my combat suit. Pain flared, hot and immediate, but the wound wasn’t deep. My augmented healing would seal it within minutes.

“Rhaekar!” Jas shouted. “Duck!”

I dropped instantly, training and trust overriding any hesitation. She hurled a chunk of scorched equipment at the drone. It hit. Not hard, but enough to knock it off its axis. I lunged, blade buried in its core.

It screamed once—and exploded.

Sand and smoke.

I stumbled back, panting. My comm crackled to life.

“Legion Command to D-7. Receiving partial signal. Confirm civilian safety.”

I grabbed the comm. “Jas is alive. Situation hostile. Request evac window now.”

As I turned, she was already at my side, eyes wide, hand shaking as she reached for mine.

“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. “But that thing… it wanted to take me.”

I pulled her into my arms, my voice rough and sharp. “Over my dead body.”

And judging by the way the sand still trembled… that wasn’t out of the question yet.

The drone’s remains smoldered in the sand, circuits and alien metallurgy still twitching with residual energy. Not completely dead. Nothing of the Swarm ever truly died—it just reconfigured, adapted, evolved. Given enough time, these fragments would reconstitute, combine with other tech, create something new.

We couldn’t give it that time.

“We need to destroy it completely,” I said, reluctantly releasing Jas. “And we need to move. That explosion will draw attention.”

She nodded, understanding immediately. Through our bond, I felt her fear, yes, but also her determination. Her resolve. The strength that had called to me from the first moment I’d scented her in the desert.

“Your arm,” she said, reaching for the tear in my combat suit where blood darkened the fabric.

“It’s nothing.” I glanced at the wound, already clotting. “Rodinian physiology. Accelerated healing.”

“Still.” Her fingers probed the edges of the cut with gentle insistence. “At least let me clean it before it seals with sand inside.”

I allowed her this small comfort, this moment of caretaking, while I surveyed our surroundings. The riverbed no longer felt secure. The drone had found us too easily, too quickly. And my buried shard...

The containment mesh had ruptured during the fight. The shard was gone.

“Jas,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the cold dread seeping through me. “Did you see where the shard went?”

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