Page 53 of Stars in Nova

‘What about the prototype disruptor?’

Sharin brightened. ‘That’s different. We’ve been working on a component that mimics dynamic energy. It’s crude, but it might be enough to scramble their signals. We’ll test it tomorrow.’

Her commander nodded, placing a hand on Sharin’s shoulder. ‘Sante. Rest if you can. We need you sharp.’

Sharin gave her a small smile. ‘I could say the same to you.’

‘Keep trying with the mask,’ Samira called as she strode away. ‘Until we get a breakthrough.’

There was little other option.

Samira exited the garrison and continued deeper into the caverns, the air growing cooler and more still.

At the end of a winding tunnel, she reached a door carved into the rock, its surface smooth and polished.

She used her wrist comm to unlock the door, which clicked and creaked open as she pushed it in.

Stepping into a humble living room, she found a woman sitting on a divan, reading a holographic book projected before her hands, which were busy sewing.

A set of spectacles sat perched on her nose.

The tall, regal middle-aged female sliced eyes at her. ‘How are you, love?’

‘Well enough, Aunt Misandra,’ Samira murmured.

‘Hmm,’ the woman huffed, her presence radiating calm.

‘How are they?’ Samira whispered, using her aunt’s nickname.

‘Sleeping,’ the older woman smiled, waving towards the back of the room. ‘They had tests today at school, then a swimming race. So they were exhausted and picked at their food before I tucked them in.’

Samira moved to an inner corridor that led to several doorways.

She pushed one that was half open.

Beyond, two of the most beautiful souls lay curled on makeshift beds, their small forms rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep.

Her heart ached with a love so poignant that tears flooded her eyes.

She wandered back to the living area. ‘Sante, aunt, don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘De nada,’ the woman smiled. ‘They have become my world, and I am grateful.’

Misandra’s name was once whispered with admiration across the vibrant markets of Orilia XIV.

Her nimble fingers, which created intricate embroidery and flowing garments that adorned the wealthiest of Vaelorian society, had trembled the day she buried her husband and son.

The Corilians had taken them, like they had stripped them all of so much else—leaving behind only the hollow shell of a life,a reflection of her former self, her former-bright eyes dulled by grief.

The laughter of Samira’s children began to thread her tattered heart back together when she moved in with them.

Their boundless energy and innocent joy formed an antidote to the sorrow that had settled deep in her bones.

Now, Misandra was the steadfast anchor of their household, a bastion of calm and order amid chaos.

She kept the home running, ensuring Malik and Liora were cared for while their mother fought an almost unwinnable war.

Her mornings were spent tending to the garden pools that provided the family with sustenance as she coaxed life from the soil and water.

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