Page 82 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
Eventually, they'd stop wondering.
The thought of T'Raal hit like a combat stim crash. He'd been waiting outside the courthouse when they'd taken her, probably still standing there wondering where she'd gone. He'd blame himself for not protecting her, carry that weight like he carried everything else—silently, completely.
She loved him. Fuck, she loved him so much it hurt. And now he'd never know. Never know that for the first time in her life, someone had made her feel like she mattered.
The transport hit a pothole, jarring her damaged spine. Pain exploded through her nervous system, white-hot agony thatmade her vision swim. When it cleared, she realized the guards were watching her.
"Neural interface breakdown," the first guard said in a bored tone. "Seen it before. Gets worse under stress."
"How much worse?" his partner asked.
"Complete paralysis within hours. Then respiratory failure." He shrugged. "Saves us the trouble."
They knew. Of course they knew. The company knew exactly what their tech did to people like her. They'd been monitoring her condition since the arrest, waiting for natural deterioration to eliminate their problem without requiring active intervention.
She forced slow breaths despite the panic clawing at her chest. Respiratory failure. How long? Hours? Minutes? The cramping in her left hand was spreading up her arm, her whole nervous system shutting down piece by piece.
She was going to die. Not in combat, not protecting something that mattered, but as collateral damage. Another inconvenient veteran disposed of by the machine she'd served faithfully for years.
The transport's engine note changed as they slowed. Through the small window, she caught glimpses of industrial wasteland—abandoned warehouses, empty lots, the kind of forgotten spaces where screams wouldn't carry and bodies disappeared without questions.
Her neural implants sparked, sending electrical fire through pathways that were shutting down. She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out as everything inside her failed. At least she'd go down fighting, even if the fight was just refusing to give these bastards the satisfaction of hearing her break.
The guards checked their weapons, preparing for arrival. Standard procedure.
She tested her restraints one more time, knowing it was pointless but unable to stop herself. The steel didn't give. Herlegs remained useless. Her left arm was cramping so badly she couldn't feel her fingers.
But she was still breathing. Still thinking. Still?—
The transport lurched to a sudden stop.
Both guards went rigid, hands moving to weapons. One tapped the comm unit behind his ear.
"Control, this is Transport Seven. We've stopped. Repeat, we have stopped. Unknown cause."
Static answered him. Shouting outside made both guards exchange looks of concern. Something was going on out there.
Metal screamed as the transport's roof buckled inward, reinforced steel warping under massive pressure. The impact knocked one guard off-balance, his professional composure fracturing as the entire vehicle shuddered. The second guard braced against the wall, eyes darting upward.
Darkness started to edge across Reese's vision as she slumped to the side against Mason.
The transport shuddered again,rocking the transport. Reese wrapped her arms around Mason, who groaned softly, trying to keep them both on the bench. The last thing they needed was to be underfoot during… whatever this was.
Footsteps echoed overhead. Heavy. Controlled.
"Control, we have multiple contacts," one guard snapped into his comm. "Repeat, multiple?—"
"Driver's not responding," the second guard muttered, checking his weapon's charge. "We're on our own."
Static burst across the comm channel, then a panicked voice."—fuck's sake, they're Lathar! Multiple contacts, enhanced armor, weapons hot?—"
The transmission dissolved into the whine of energy weapons and screaming.
Mason stirred beside her, breathing shallow. "What's happening?"
"Rescue," Reese managed in a whisper. Everything hurt like hell, but adrenaline kept her alert enough to understand what was happening. Just.
The back doors of the transport were ripped open. Metal shrieked as hinges snapped like gunshots, the doors torn completely off their mounts and flung aside like scrap.
