Page 46 of Stars in Nova

The planet was scorched and broken, its surface a patchwork of ocher and ashen gray. He zoomed in on the view screen and arched a brow.

The entire sphere, continents, seas, and islands appeared torched, cracked, and fractured like ancient pottery.

A shimmer of blue lingered at the edges of some regions.

On the monitor, he tagged the ghostly memories of where lakes and rivers had once thrived.

The sight stirred something uneasy in Kisan’s chest—a gnawing sense of loss for a world he’d never encountered.

‘This place was alive,’ he muttered, his voice hoarse and rough.

Mirage’s node flickered to life on the viewscreen, her star-flecked eyes scanning the planet’s surface. ‘Not long ago, too,’ she confirmed. ‘I’m picking up traces of water, clouds, and chlorophyll. Whatever happened, it was some time back.’

‘Torched to the bones,’ Kisan said bitterly. ‘Who burns a planet like this?’

‘Someone with no regard for life,’ Mirage replied. ‘And enough power to turn paradise into a graveyard.’

The Cephei glided closer, its stealth tech wrapping it in an invisible cocoon. The meteorite zone loomed ahead, jagged and chaotic, the fragments of ancient collisions spinning against the void.

Kisan maneuvered the vessel into the field, weaving between immense rocks and smaller rubble that pinged and bounced off the hull.

The Rider lowered the Cephei into the shadow of a massive asteroid, its surface pockmarked and dark.

With a flick of his fingers across the controls, the ship powered down, leaving it cloaked and hidden among the debris.

In his quarters, Kisan stepped into his armored suit with precision. Its obscured plating was designed to flex and harden as needed.

Each panel bore the marks of past battles—scratches and scorch lines that told stories of fierce wars he’d fought and engaged in.

It wasn’t Sable issue. It was of his design, fashioned along with the spinel face void.

He’d kept it from his time as Ankis and brought it with him, for it was crafted to fit in and integrate with the mask.

His weapons lay on the bench: a sleek energy rifle and a pair of plasma-edged blades, the hilts of which were fashioned to correspond with his meta-enhanced grip.

Also, nonstandard and spinel networked.

Now forced to use a standard helmet, he jammed it over his head.

He then slipped his firearms into the slots for their holsters and scabbards, each one aligned to his body.

With a suck of his teeth, he moved out, tracking towards the rear deck.

The heavy doors slid open and Kisan exited the Cephei onboard a smaller, stealthed skimmer—a sleek, dart-like craft designed for reconnaissance.

As he climbed aboard, the ship’s matte black EMF-shielded facade absorbed the illumination from the asteroid field. The cockpit reeked of metal and leather, its interior was spare but efficient.

He guided the flyer between the floating space rocks, its engines purring.

The geology of Orilia XIV grew larger on his viewscreen, as the details of its destruction became clear. The planet was encased in the shimmer of a cybernetic shield, its translucent bands refracting the light from distant stars.

Kisan’s hands tightened on the controls.

The defensive layer rippled as the stealthed craft passed through it undetected.

Thank fokk for Sable tech.

However, the invaders had some unusual innovations and deep pockets for a planetary shield, which was hella expensive, a high-energy suck, and freakin’ hard to maintain.

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