Home > Holding Hoarse (Cyborg Space Exploration #6.5)

Holding Hoarse (Cyborg Space Exploration #6.5)
Author: Cynthia Sax


Holding Hoarse

 

 

This cyborg warrior WILL become worthy of love.

 

 

Hoarse hasn’t found his female, the one being manufactured for him. There is only one reason he can process for his lack of success—he isn’t yet worthy of claiming a female.

The big C Model is determined to change that status. He considers ulu, or doll, fabrication to be an essential part of mate preparation. Seeking to hone his skills, he contacts a reclusive doll maker and asks her to train him.

He doesn’t realize the being he is sharing his deficiencies with is his destined mate.

Arlicia desires a male whose face she has never seen. Her new trainee’s persistence, intelligence, and curiosity warrant admiration. His deep voice evokes visions of passionate kisses and heated embraces. His large hands cause her to quiver with wanting.

Before their professional relationship ends, she wants to rendezvous with Hoarse. The curious doll maker hopes for a glimpse of the huge warrior.

When a cyborg intent on being the perfect mate meets the female who knows all his secrets, garments are shed, illusions shatter, and beings die.

 

 

Holding Hoarse is a short, light, companion story in the Cyborg Space Exploration series and is meant to be read after Testing Truth.

It is also a BBW Cyborg SciFi Romance featuring an intense C Model warrior, an understanding doll maker, and packs of imperfect toys seeking loving homes.

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Hoarse had searched solar cycles for his female, the one being genetically meant for him. The C Model looked for her on every planet he explored, in every settlement he entered.

Other warriors had located their females, experienced the happiness, the sense of belonging, of family, that came with that bond.

He remained alone.

There was only one reason Hoarse could process for that failure.

He wasn’t yet worthy of claiming his female.

The skills he’d gained to care for her, for their future offspring, were aggravatingly inadequate. He folded his fingers into huge fists. Determined to rectify that malfunction, he had looked for deficiencies in his abilities.

He required no improvement in his readiness to protect his unknown female.

That was without fault. He was the best warrior on the battle station, had been awarded the role of Captain’s second-in-command due to his prowess at fighting, at waging war.

No one would ever damage his female…once he found her.

He projected his lack of preparation resided in another area, in a skill he vastly enjoyed but hadn’t yet conquered. Honing that ability became his focus, his obsession.

And he believed he’d derived a solution for that shortfall in aptitude.

“Look at this.” He extracted an ulu from the holster built into his body armor and shoved it at Relay.

The E Model, seated behind a horizontal support, grasped the plaything. “This resembles a human offspring.” The male skimmed his fingertips over the finely crafted face. “It’s very soft and extremely detailed.” He looked up, met Hoarse’s gaze. “Your skills at fabricating ulus have substantially improved, C Model.”

“I didn’t fabricate that ulu.” He flung himself into the chair across from his friend. The metal creaked under his weight. “I purchased it from a merchant during our last stop.”

The merchant only sold ulus, or dolls, as she called them. Many of the ulus had hard faces and forms, rendering them, in Hoarse’s processing, unsuitable for offspring. He’d studied the soft ulus, was drawn to a selection of them. They had all been supplied by one being.

“The fabricator’s skills far exceed mine.” The ulu even smelled good.

After he’d purchased it from the merchant, he had held it up to his nose, breathed in its unique scent. Energy had coursed through his circuits, and all of his systems had come online.

“The fabricator’s skills do exceed yours.” Relay was a fellow cyborg. He was unable to lie. “But Weilai, our offspring, deems your ulus sufficient. She carries one with her during all her waking moments.”

Hoarse grunted. Weilai, a human offspring with one solar cycle and forty-five planet rotations, did like his ulus.

The newest being on board their battle station would cry if she couldn’t detect one of them with her visual system. Surge and his female, her primary parents, would rush to find one to pacify her.

But Weilai might like the fabricator’s ulus more.

And the variance in his aptitude versus the fabricator’s emphasized how unprepared, how unworthy of a female he was. He was convinced that was the reason he hadn’t yet found her. “I have to increase my skill level.”

Once he did that, he would locate his female. He would protect her, care for her, and he would never be alone again. She would be safe, and they would be happy.

“The fabricator has built malfunctions into the design.” Relay studied the crafted object closer. “The ulu appears to be a human female, yet one of her eyes is blue and the other eye is brown.”

“It was the only ulu crafted with that combination.” Hoarse had been drawn to it for that reason. “The other ulus were perfect.”

The existence of that deviation from expectations in the ulu had fascinated Hoarse. Cyborgs had been decommissioned, had been killed in the most painful way possible, by the Humanoid Alliance—their cruel manufacturers—for having the slightest malfunction, yet the ulu had been deliberately created with one.

“0.6258 percent of humans have different-colored eyes.” Hoarse had faced three such beings on the battlefield. “It occurs in the species.”

“To build a malfunction into a design is…illogical.” Relay frowned.

“Humans and humanoids are illogical.” Hoarse shrugged. He liked the ulu, and no one could doubt the craftsmanship of it. “I require fabrication training.”

“There are many sources of information in the databases.” Relay handed Hoarse the ulu.

He closed his fingers around its form. The renewed connection with it eased some of the strain on his processors. “I’ve scanned all that information.” It had increased his skill level to adequate levels. That wasn’t sufficient. “I require an experienced fabricator to train me.”

He gazed down at the ulu’s little face. Its soft brown hair was chin length. There was a twinkle in the mismatched eyes, as though it was suppressing a laugh.

Yet it was an inanimate object, shouldn’t exhibit emotions.

The fabricator was gifted. He wanted to be that skilled.

His female, wherever, whoever she was, deserved that aptitude from her warrior.

“I’ll contact the fabricator.” A symbol had been crafted into the ulu’s garments. He would search the databases for it, communicate with the being using it.

“Many species, including humans, are scared of our kind.” Relay supplied the private viewscreen. The E Model could be counted upon for support.

“We will be chattering about ulus—dolls—not about our species.” Hoarse would utilize the fabricator’s word for ulus, give the being no reason to reject his request for training.

That was all he required from the fabricator—training.

Once he obtained that, once he increased his skill level, he would be worthy of his female. He jutted his jaw, determined to reach that state. As quickly as possible.

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