Page 7 of Stars in Nova

He didn’t explain himself; he didn’t need to. He was a Rider, after all. Which effectively meant he had keys to the proverbial kingdom.

Outside the station, Kisan leaned against the cool wall of the building, pulling up the interface for his private accounts.

The numbers were staggering, the wealth a byproduct of his share in the Riders’ interstellar ventures.

Shipbuilding contracts, security enterprises, and trade routes had made them astronomically rich.

Kisan rarely touched his portion of profits. Like everything else in his life, he considered them undeserved.

He entered the Falasians’ Sys IDs and transferred a significant sum to them and their families.

‘Twas a form of restitution, an acknowledgment of the lives he had upended.

Also, not the first time he’d done this.

Every victim he found, each survivor whose path crossed his own, he sought out. He paid for their medical expenses, their homes, and their futures. It wasn’t enough. It would never be adequate. However, it was all he could offer.

A soft chime confirmed the transaction, and he stood for an extended moment, staring at the screen.

Trying to remember.

The ghosts of his victims were hazy silhouettes in his mind, but their palpable agony remained with him. It pressed in, oppressive, crowding his psyche, thoughts, and long, lonely nights.

Most would never forgive him, and he didn’t expect them to. Forgiveness was a luxury he didn’t deserve.

He carried the guilt not as a burden but as a part of himself—a constant reminder of who he was and who he was trying to become.

Kisan was a man of action, but his yearning for redemption now tempered his actions. He was driven by a need to rebuild what he had once destroyed and safeguard those who could not protect themselves.

While he had a fierce temper, it was never directed outward; instead, it manifested as an incessant internal struggle and the specter of his past failures.

The guilt gnawed at him, sharper than ever.

He deserved to be in that cell, not the men who had sought vengeance. But penance wasn’t a simple thing. It was a long, grueling road, and he hadn’t reached the end of it yet.

He would repay all his sins, even if it cost him the little peace he had left, even if it broke him.

Fluid Dynamics

The subterranean bioluminescent lake far below Eden II was vast and serene. Its glassy surface mirrored the cavern’s ceiling.

Soft, undulating light pulsed from the water in flickering azure, emerald, and violet hues.

Droplets fell in rhythmic harmony from stalactites into the reservoir, their patterns forming a symphony of ripples spreading in delicate rings.

From beneath the glowing depths, a figure emerged.

She broke through the fluid with effortless grace, tilting her head back and sending cascades of liquid falling from her radiant black hair.

Her tresses shimmered like obsidian, woven with blue and diamond-white starlight threads, radiating behind her as she floated.

The lake’s luminescence danced across her skin, a blend of deep bronze and pearl-like shimmer, the marks of her aquatic heritage.

Her eyes, a startling silver with flecks of sea green and gold, opened to the cavern’s dim light.

She sighed, sadness clouding their brilliance for a moment.

She levitated, suspended, her lithe and lean form moving with the rhythm of the stream. She exhaled, the bubbles rising and popping against the surface.

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