Page 22 of Kazmyr: Molten for Her
I tried to scream a warning, but the sound died in my throat as the enhancer surged, stealing my breath with a pulse of fiery pain. The hammock sensed the approaching threat, its tendrils constricting around me in desperate protection, but they were no match for the Voraxx's strength.
Clawed hands ripped through the living weave, tearing the hammock apart with ruthless efficiency. I felt each severed tendril like a small death, the hammock's silent scream resonating through my contact with it. Then those same claws closed around my arms, yanking me free with enough force to send agony shooting through my shoulders.
My body slammed against the obsidian wall, the impact driving what little air remained from my lungs. The commander's face hovered inches from mine, its breath carrying the metallic scent of processed nutrients and something else, something clinical and cold.
"Specimen secured," it hissed, the words rendered in perfect, emotionless Standard. "Genetic profile matches parameters."
Its grip tightened, claws piercing my skin just deep enough to draw blood. A small device in its other hand pressed against the wound, collecting the crimson droplets with mechanical precision.
"DNA sample obtained," it continued, speaking not to me but to whatever surveillance systems remained active. "Subject displays optimal unbonded characteristics. Recommended for primary breeding program, category seven."
Breeding program. The words cut through my pain-fogged brain like ice water, shocking me back to full awareness. This wasn't just about capturing me. It was about using me, my body, my genetics, to create... what? More compatible matches? Hybrids? Weapons?
Panic froze me, a terror more complete than anything I'd felt before. Not just fear for my life, but for my autonomy, my future, the very essence of who I was. I thrashed against the commander's grip, but it held me effortlessly, continuing its clinical assessment.
"Subject displays expected resistance. Sedation recommended before transit. Breeding value estimated at?—"
The commander's words cut off abruptly as a bellow split the air. A sound of such primal fury it seemed to shake the very atoms around us. Kazmyr. He'd seen me.
The temperature in the chamber spiked so suddenly that the air itself seemed to ignite. Through the haze of fear and pain, I saw him coming—not running but surging forward like a wave of living fire. Every ember mark on his body blazed white-hot, the scars no longer contained to their usual patterns but spreading, merging, until his entire form seemed composed of molten light.
The Voraxx commander turned to face this new threat, releasing one of my arms to draw a weapon from its belt. Too late. Kazmyr struck with the force of a meteor impact, his molten fists connecting with the commander's chest. There was no struggle, no battle of equals—just instantaneous, complete annihilation. The commander didn't fall or die; it simply ceased to exist, its body reduced to fine ash that scattered in the superheated air.
Kazmyr's massive form caged me against the wall, his arms creating a barrier between me and the remaining chaos. His chest heaved with exertion, marks pulsing in time with his thundering heartbeat. Heat rolled off him in waves, but it didn't burn me. Instead, it felt like stepping into a warm bath after nearly freezing to death, life-giving, essential.
"I have you," he rumbled, his voice barely recognizable through the rage still vibrating in his chest. "I have you now."
My knees buckled, the last of my strength deserting me as the enhancer continued its relentless assault on my system. Kazmyr's arms tightened around me, his heat holding me upright when my body would have collapsed.
Around us, the battle had turned. With their commander reduced to ash, the remaining Voraxx faltered, their coordinated assault breaking down into individual skirmishes. Vylit moved among them like a tide, sweeping them back toward the hull breach. Maya's pulse weapon found targets with unerring accuracy.
"Jenna." Kazmyr's voice softened as he tilted my face up to his, molten eyes scanning for injuries. "Tell me where you're hurt."
Before I could answer, Silvyr's projection materialized beside us, his usual smugness replaced by grim determination.
"I've traced the control signal," he announced, the words tumbling out in a rush. "The Voraxx are just foot soldiers. Asset P is orchestrating everything… the attack, the surveillance, the sample collection."
"We knew that," I managed, my voice cracking from strain.
"Yes, but now I know where from." Silvyr's projection expanded, displaying a three-dimensional map of familiar star systems. "The signal origin is Earth. Terra Prime. Your homeworld."
My stomach dropped, a cold dread spreading through me that even Kazmyr's heat couldn't touch. "That's impossible. Earth doesn't have the technology for quantum relays."
"Official Earth doesn't," Silvyr agreed, his projection flickering with agitation. "But someone there does. Someone with enough resources and knowledge to coordinate with Voraxx fleet movements. Someone with access to IDA protocols and genetic data banks."
"Someone human," Maya added quietly from across the chamber, her face pale with the same realization that was dawning on me.
My own planet. My own species. Complicit in this nightmare of genetic trafficking and forced compatibility. The knowledge hit harder than any physical blow, leaving me hollow and cold despite the fever heat of the enhancer still pulsing beneath my skin.
Kazmyr's arms tightened around me, his ember marks dimming slightly as he registered my distress. "We don't know the full extent," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest and into mine. "Not yet."
"But we will," Silvyr promised, his projection solidifying with new determination. "I've captured the signal pattern. We can trace it back, find the exact source."
"And then what?" I asked, the words bitter on my tongue. "Invade Earth? Start an interplanetary war?"
"Then we make them stop," Kazmyr answered simply, as if it were the most obvious solution in the universe. "We find whoever is responsible, and we burn their operation to ash."
The Heartforge groaned around us, its systems struggling to repair the damage from the attack. Through the hull breach, I could see the Voraxx ships regrouping, maintaining distance now that their boarding party had failed. We'd survived this assault, but they would be back. Asset P wouldn't abandon such valuable prey, not when my genetic signature still called to them across the void.
