Page 27 of Stars in Umbra
He flicked a holo file from his wrist tab. ‘You have mine, woman. In any case, I have the means to obtain it. May I walk you to your transport?’
She studied him, deciphering between the lines, appreciating that he had manners. ‘Nada, appears you’re in a hurry. Go. I’ll be fine. This soldier can take care of herself.’
With a jerk of his chin, he surged up, looming over her.
He locked eyes with her one more time, his gaze now cool.
‘See you around, Colonel.’
She gave him a two-fingered salute as he strode away, tall, forceful, and towering against the until he disappeared into the mist rolling down the mountain.
Rina shook her head, reliving the evening’s events in her mind.
The essence of star lime still lingered on her tongue.
The scorching of his hand still heated her skin, and the timbred rumble of his voice echoed in her ears.
Mo had become her unexpected delight this evening, and it gave her goosebumps to think about seeing him again.
With a ragged exhale, she leaned down, unhooked the straps of her heels, and let them dangle from her hand.
The sensation of cool grass helped ground her as she tracked over it with her bare feet.
As she walked toward the exit, her neural node pinging a command to her ride, a smile touched her lips, still lost in the pleasure of what seemed a serendipitous night.
Thank the gods her flyer’s auto nav was top-notch; for she was not in a state to pilot it in this frame of mind, reeling from the intoxicating rush of Mo.
Fokk, forget the flyer; she thought she might even float to her bed and breakfast room.
She laughed to herself as she, too, vanished into the mist of the magical night.
6
One Breath, One Shot.
MOLAN
Mist clung to Mo’s suit as he left the wedding, its laughter and music dimming with every step.
He strode across a darkened ridge where no revelers wandered and sensed the silent command buried in his neural node activate.
It shackled his mind in an instant.
All emotion dulled as his purpose was honed with a menacing edge.
The warmth of conversation, the touch of Rina’s hand, the memory of a smile, all cut away.
In their place:mission parameters, timelines, a target profile, a kill window.
He reached his gun ship, a matte-black hyperdrive-enabled blade of a vessel hidden among the ridge boulders.
With a single directive, its canopy slid open, and he dropped into the cockpit.
The autopilot locked onto coordinates transmitted from his node.
He strapped in, face unreadable, as the craft peeled away from Dunia’s lush surface and sliced through the star-cloaked void toward Alloria.
En route, a file of detailed instructions and mission parameters was unpacked into his cerebral nucleus.
