Doc’s Orders will be releasing on July 16th.
While we’re waiting for release day, I’ll be sharing the first chapter with you.
Today, I’m sharing the first scene.
Doc wasn’t fully functional.
A fully functional cyborg was perfectly balanced. He was half organic, half machine. Circumstances might call for more logic or more emotion, and during those times one of the sides was dominant. But both parts of a cyborg were always present, moderating the actions of the other.
Since the moment he was manufactured, Doc had swung between the two extremes. If his machine was in control, his organic side was silent. If his organic side was in control…beings died.
While serving the Humanoid Alliance, he had utilized both of his sides. He released his organics during battle, killing his opponents with a fervor that shocked even himself. Off the battlefield, his logical half had been fully in charge. He became the cold machine the humans assumed all cyborgs were.
Since he and his brethren had escaped their cruel manufacturers, there had been no reason to release his organics. The machine side suited his role as Chief Medic on board the Reckless, a cyborg-controlled warship. He was expected to be calm and rational. His decisions were based on calculations and science, not emotion.
No one realized he was damaged.
Everyone realized Captain, and Chuckles—the Communications Officer, were damaged, and that made Doc uneasy.
A damaged cyborg was a dead cyborg. He’d learned that from the Humanoid Alliance. Some of his brethren had been decommissioned, killed in the most painful way possible, because they had experienced a minor malfunction.
Doc was determined to repair the Captain’s stripped-to-the-frame feet and Chuckles’ malfunctioning knee.
Seeking to do that, he experimented on himself.
He grimaced as he slashed the scar on his forearm multiple times with the tip of one of his daggers. Blood gushed. His mechanics were exposed, the silver metal reflecting the lights shining above his head.
Wanting the test to be pure, to be uninfluenced by additional inputs, he hadn’t injected himself with pain inhibitors. The hurt he experienced was intense but it was manageable.
Much of his lifespan had been spent in anguish. The Humanoid Alliance had enjoyed torturing their cyborg warriors. Pain had been constant, became normal. It didn’t trigger his organic side.
Doc attached circuits to his now-mutilated flesh and directed bolts of energy into the self-inflicted wound.
Fraggin’ hole. His lips flattened as the pain intensified.
Once, during battle, the enemy had plunged a heated blade into him again and again. That was the level of agony he was now experiencing.
The doors to the medic bay opened and closed. Doc didn’t look up. All of his attention remained focused on his task. He didn’t have to visually verify the being’s identity. He could sense Truth’s presence.
“I’ll run a diagnostic on you in a moment,” he told the cyborg.
“You should run a diagnostic on yourself, G Model.” Truth snorted. “We’re nearing Khambalia 5 and Captain expects us to be positioned on the bridge.”
“I’m aware of that requirement.” Doc stopped the energy flow, removed the circuits, and frowned down at his arm. Blood pooled around it. “It was saved in my databases. There’s no need to mention it a second time.”
That part of him wasn’t malfunctioning.
“We approach the planet mere moments from now and you remain here. That’s why I’m mentioning it a second time.” Truth’s shadow fell across the wound. “Are you still trying to delete that scar you gave yourself?”
“I projected if I stimulated the scarred flesh, my nanocybotics might view it as a new wound and repair it.” He could then apply the same process to Captain and to Chuckles, repair their older damage. “My projection was wrong.”
His nanocybotics, the part of him that repaired damage, was restoring the raised skin. His scar would remain.
Truth narrowed his eyes at him. “If you’re doing this for Chuckles, that grumpy bag of bolts hasn’t grumbled about a repair since he found his female.”
“The repair could be applied to Captain also.” Doc wrapped his arm with gauze. That feat would have been much easier to accomplish if he still had an assistant.
“Captain has never expressed any interest in repairing his feet.” Truth shook his head. “You’re damaging yourself for no reason.”
“Knowledge always has a purpose.” Doc tapped on a private viewscreen. Cleaner bots rolled out of compartments in the walls and rushed around, sucking up the blood, polishing the floor tiles. “And there’s no need for them to express interest. Every cyborg wants to be fully functional.”
“Tell Captain he isn’t fully functional, G Model, and your next experiment will be determining how long you can survive after being jettisoned into open space.” Truth grinned.
The warrior was right. Captain wouldn’t take that insinuation well.
Reading the next scene (available June 24th) here: http://tasteofcyn.com/?p=6871
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Doc’s Orders
She wants both sides of her cyborg—the medic AND the beast.
A fully functional cyborg is balanced. His machine half and his organic half work together to produce the perfect warrior.
Doc isn’t fully functional.
The G Model operates at the two extremes. When his machine is in complete control, he’s the logic-driven medic, saving lifespans. Once his organics take charge, he becomes the savage beast…and beings die.
Both sides of Doc want to be the first to claim his female.
Allinen is one of the few beings in her small settlement who wasn’t born with a fated mate. Determined to belong somewhere, she has crafted a plan to leave the planet.
That plan doesn’t involve a huge stormy-eyed male who alternates between cool seduction and out-of-control ravishment. Doc isn’t her fated mate. Allinen knows that. But his dual nature and forbidden embraces tempt her to forget forever and indulge in more immediate delights.
Neither side of Doc views their relationship as being temporary. Her conflicted cyborg is prepared to battle her family, her planet and death itself to keep her.
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