Page 100 of Stars in Nova

‘Or we’re back in bed.’

‘Not sure I see the problem,’ she teased.

He tossed his head back in laughter, revealing his corded neck.

He canted his eyes back down to find her eyes on him.

‘What?’ he growled.

‘You’re my unexpected gift. Taking your mask was a wild card, and I’d no hope it’d change the tide of our war. However, you walking this journey with me makes me feel that we might have a real fighting chance for the first time.’

‘Kaissa,’ he grunted. ‘Letting me walk with you has helped me realize I have some worth beyond my poisoned legacy.’

She kissed his hand, and they shared a long, heated look.

After a sip ofkahawa, Samira tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied Kisan. ‘Your friend—the one we’re picking up. Tell me about him.’

Kisan leaned back, the hum of the Cephei’s engines filling the pause as he gathered his thoughts. ‘Sax,’ he began, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, ‘is complicated.’

‘Complicated how?’ Samira pressed, leaning forward, her curiosity evident.

‘He’s a walking contradiction,’ Kisan said, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘On one hand, he’s this towering enforcer of justice, a take-no-bullshit unholy man who’s saved more lives than I can count. On the other, he’s got this feral side. He’s a super-intense shit-wrecker who has never done anything half-assed in his entire existence. Relentless, hyper-focused, and brutally effective.’

Samira raised an eyebrow. ‘Brutal, how?’

‘Let’s just say if you’re on his bad flank, you’d better pray you never see him coming. Though he appears as a holy man, cassock and all, he’s made it his mission to dismantle the worst the galaxy has to offer—pirates, slavers, criminal overlords. He doesn’t just defeat them; he bitch-slaps, head-cleaves, and obliterates everything they stand for. It’s personal for him.’

Her expression softened. ‘He sounds like a man with a story. What drives him?’

Kisan exhaled. ‘He once was a regular Edenite soldier, special forces. That’s how we met. We served together in the Sable squad, thus the same last names. The crats captured us, as you know, and turned into meta-enhanced weapons. When those monsters set him and me free, he fought in the Fringe Wars while I moved to the center of Pegasi to exact my brand of vengeance. He was active in a series of senseless battles and lost a lot of people he cared about. I think, in a way, he’s beentrying to atone ever since. He started hunting down kidnappers, rescuing children, dismantling pirate empires—whatever it took to make the galaxy a safer place.’

Samira’s lips pressed into a thoughtful line. ‘A man who lives in the Fringe and on the edge.’

‘Indeed, and his enemies hate him,’ Kisan said with a dry laugh. ‘There’s a fortune on his head in half the systems in Pegasi. Pirates and crime lords have posted bounties that could fund small armies. But Sax doesn’t care. His philosophy is simple: if you cross him, he’ll bury you. He’ll make sure everyone knows not to try it again.’

‘Sounds intense,’ Samira said, her voice laced with intrigue. ‘But if he’s so unstoppable, why does he hide in a monastery?’

Kisan chuckled. ‘That’s where the story gets interesting. Sax made a few enemies in high places—crooked officials who’d partnered with the pirates he was targeting. They backed him into a corner and left him with two options: execution or life in prison. So, he took a third option—he vanished to an Ascetic Artisans abbey on Skardis and took their vows.’

‘A priest?’ Samira echoed, her brow furrowing. ‘Let me guess—he’s not the meditative type.’

‘Not even close,’ Kisan said, shaking his head. ‘He’s more of a non-believing skeptic, a secular, unholy man. Drawn to the order, philosophy, and justice of faith, but not its controls. At first, he was hiding out, playing the part of a humble cleaner and groundskeeper. But even in exile, Sax couldn’t help himself. He started brewing moonshine from the monastery’s grain harvest, smuggling it to traders. His brand is famed throughout the sector, and he’s built a treasure stash out of it.’

Samira laughed, the sound warm and rich. ‘That sounds more like it. What happened next?’

Kisan leaned forward, his green eyes glinting. ‘The head abbot discovered he was using their harvest and distillingequipment and gave him an ultimatum: pay back what he owned or leave in disgrace. Sax, being Sax, found a loophole. He offered to become the monastery’s muscle—taking on the dirtiest, most dangerous jobs to protect the poor and keep the peace.’

Her smile faded, replaced by quiet admiration. ‘He turned into their guardian.’

‘You said it,’ Kisan grunted. ‘It bestowed him carte blanche. Now, every mission is a crusade. Thieves, kidnappers, warlords—he takes them all down, leaving behind a trail of shattered operations and broken bones. He even gives his enemies a benediction when he’s done. Says it makes him feel more virtuous about his actions.’

‘He doesn’t sound very monastic,’ Samira said, tilting her head.

Kisan smirked. ‘His words? ‘Old habits die hard, and some people need a holy wake-up call.’

Samira leaned back, her gaze thoughtful. ‘Why does he keep doing it? What is he looking for?’

‘Deliverance,’ Kisan rasped. ‘Sax dreams of going out in a blaze of righteous fury, delivering the weak from the oppression of those in power. He views himself as a vigilante saving thousands. He doesn’t care to be remembered as a martyr, but as someone who gave everything for the greater good, without following the rules, if the rule makers are bent.’

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