Page 51 of Stars in Nova

Samira smiled, shaking her head. ‘Not today. You’re far better at this than I am.’

Laira laughed, a sound like water trickling over smooth stones. ‘Better? Maybe. But you love it. I can see it in your eyes.’

‘I do,’ Samira admitted, her smile fading into something softer, more wistful. ‘However, I dance now for a purpose, not for play.’

Laira stepped closer.

Her hand brushed against Samira’s arm, damp and cool. ‘You also need to dance for joy, too. To remind ourselves of who we were and still are.’

‘I hear you. Some day soon,’ she smiled.

After this fokkin war.

Laira took off leaping, arms outstretched as the aquatic waves caught her and held her aloft before setting her down with a graceful splash.

Samira lingered more than she intended, unable to pull herself away from the sight.

They moved with an elegance that seemed impossible given the harshness of their reality, their defiance a quiet but meaningful statement.

Each step, leap, and ripple they created reminded her people that even in the depths of despair, they refused to lose themselves.

She turned to leave, but dance stayed with her, etched into her thoughts.

The choreographers danced not because they had forgotten their pain but because they remembered their past joys.

Her people were tired, their spirits battered, but as she gazed around at the faces illuminated by the lake’s glow, she recognized the flickers of resolve that kept them going.

Laira’s words echoed in her mind.

We water dance to remind ourselves of who we are.

A Viridescent Intensity

Thalassi’s forces were housed in the rear of the giant cavern, set apart from the rest of the grotto with frosted shields.

Samira touched her palm to a gel pack on the wall.

The energy barrier dropped, creating an opening enough for her to step through.

She raised a chin and a hand to the guards just inside the threshold, and they saluted back at her.

She strode on with a wry, almost shy smile. She was still uncomfortable with her role as their general and unused to the title she had inherited from her now-deceased husband.

She straightened her back, keen to look the part as she stalked through the garrison.

It pulsed with constant activity, a testament to the unyielding resilience of the Vaelorian resistance.

It was carved deep into the subterranean stone, creating a sanctuary and a fortress.

The bioluminescent algae that lit much of the cavern city was subdued here, replaced by the sharper, utilitarian glow of industrial lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

The garrison’s principal entrance was well guarded, with makeshift barricades and security drones positioned to repel surprise attacks.

Soldiers in streamlined armor patrolled the perimeter, their faces tense and on mission.

The central hall served as the heart of the garrison.

Long tables lined the space, crowded with military personnel cleaning weapons, repairing gear, and eating meals of dried fish, roots, and nutrient-packed rations.

---