SOMA (LGBT-scifi-romance)

Chapter Nine: An Unlikely Partnership

Sector 06: Cita Avis

Jan. 16, 462 AC

The next few moments passed in a blur. The black ship tilted on its side. Over the screech of the hull bending and fluids rupturing in the engines, Soma heard nanocables snap against the wings. The ship spun, throwing the feral syns against their glass cells. Soma tumbled end to end, and crumbled against his injured arm. It didn't hurt, with whatever painkiller he'd been injected with, but his ears rang. His mind turned white and thick. He let out a gasp, a flare of heat, and blacked out.

When Soma came to, several seconds later, he was sprawled against the ship ceiling. A red alarm whirled against his hip. Jagged plastic protruded around him, one digging into his bandaged side. He breathed harshly through his teeth and groped for his inhaler, but he didn't have another asthma attack, just the remnants of his first.

Through the windows and blinking ship lights, Soma could see they'd stopped. The black ship floated—belly up—in a knot of nanocables, dragging at least three lunaroids behind it. Anything not secured in the cargo bay drifted, including magazines, a bag of fish treats, and a potted plant. Webbing roots filled the hull.

All the syns, including Gemini, were stalled. Most were tangled in their limbs and stared numbly into glass.

"Gemini?"

No response. Soma scrabbled until he faced the alarm panel, batting dirt and ceramics out of the way. He inspected the flashing contraption, and pressed his hands to the dark sensor bands at the base. He'd never been a good judge of temperature, but he pulled heat into his skin again, until blisters opened like thin smiles across his palms.

Fatal conditions, the Gemini unit said. Soma didn't need tricks to cause fatal conditions.

All the glass cells clicked open. "Aha," Soma crowed.

Mrs. S—potato sack next to her—broke out of her stall at the sound of the locks, but before she could escape, Soma threw his weight into her glass door and secured it again. He did the same to the other feral cells, before turning to the Gemini unit.

"Hey," Soma hissed. "Lock's gone. Please tell me you're just pretending to be stalled."

Above him, the cockpit panel cracked open. En climbed carefully past the tinted glass into the bay. Bruises spilled over his chin. The turing rifle was unsheathed in his hands and his fish followed him. Soma recoiled.

"Are you all right?" the human demanded.

"What?"

"Are you hurt?" En repeated. He drew close, brushing dirt out of the air.

"Um..." Was it possible? The woman had obviously known about Soma's fires, but this second human seemed oblivious... Soma narrowed his eyes, stowing away stray emotions like he'd seen synthetics do all his life. "When you said rough landing, I didn't think your ship would crash. If you want to execute me, I want the hot meal and the royal treatment that comes with it first."

En laughed. "You're probably fine." He paused. "And if you don't need immediate medical attention, I need to check the ferals then get this shed in the air again." He turned, and stared. "What..." The Gemini unit's cell was empty.

Gemini's massive body plummeted from above. En swerved up, his gun shone like a sickle.

Soma tackled En, knocking off his aim and buying a precious split second before the Gemini unit batted Soma aside as if he had no inertia and barreled by. Soma hit the far wall. The syn pinned En, and then proceeded to brutally pummel him across the face and stomach. The juvenile sky fish darted up, circling anxiously, but didn't close in on the fight.