Page 40 of Stars in Nova

The air was thick with the mingling scents of machine oil, heated alloys, and ozone from charged plasma tools.

The clang of metal echoed through the vast space, underscored by the steady hum of generators and the occasional hiss of venting steam.

Rows of ships stood in various states of readiness, their hulls gleaming under the overhead lights.

The hangar floor was alive with the rhythm of hundreds of ground crew prepping ships for space flight and the sharp voices of supervisors barking instructions.

Equipment whirred and clanked as engines and tested systems were tuned and tinkered on.

Kisan stalked through the organized chaos.

The techs closest to him paused in their work, some nodding in acknowledgment, others glancing at him circumspectly.

Most days, he let it roll off his back, a strain he was now used to carrying. However, today, raw and raging, their disapproval gnawed at him.

He sucked his teeth, suppressing the burn that curled in his chest.

Ahead of him, the Cephei waited like a predator poised to strike.

Its sleek, angular lines had the ability to disappear under the Sable Group’s signature stealth wrap, a matte black surface that seemed to drink in the light around it.

The ship radiated quiet menace, its compact frame designed for speed and precision.

Twin kinetic rail guns sat mounted under the wings, their barrels shimmering with the energy of their slumbering power cores.

The subtle panels hinted at its advanced quantum computing systems along the hull, integrated with high-velocity noids that could push the engine to extraordinary speeds.

He hadn’t wanted a gunship.

When the Riders offered it, he had hesitated, reluctant to embrace a weapon of war after spending so long trying to leave that life behind.

Kainan had been insistent. ‘It’s key that we all have fast, weapons-ready ships in case we’re called into battle. No exceptions.’

With reluctance, Kisan had agreed to the unexpected gift.

Over time, he grew to appreciate the Cephei for its craftsmanship, but what he liked most was its quietness.

It was built for stealth, with its engines purring rather than roaring. Its sleek silhouette allows it to slip through enemydefenses unnoticed, and its black hull is designed for speed and evasion.

The Rider climbed the steel staircase leading to the control deck, his hand brushing the cool, textured railing.

The familiar feel of it grounded him, steadying his simmering anger.

He entered the ship through the airlock, the hiss of the pressurized seal severing off the noise of the hangar below.

Inside, the air was cooler, redolent with the rich scent of polished leather and steel.

The Cephei’s control center was a marvel of design. It was a high-end, cutting-edge space that married functionality with elegance.

The pilot’s chair was the centerpiece, a plush seat crafted for comfort and control. Kisan dropped into it, the supple pelt molding to his body as the controls lit up around him in a soft cascade of iridescent aqua and white.

A 360-degree plex display crowned the helm, offering a seamless view of the hangar and the stars beyond.

He leaned back and patched his neural node into the ship’s HUD, the connection sparking a familiar tingle at the base of his neck.

The vessel’s systems unfolded before him in his mind: engine readouts, navigation data, weapons status. He sensed the Cephei to its core, its pulse steady and waiting, an extension of his body.

The craft’s interior was just as mesmerizing.

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