Page 33 of Stars in Umbra
A Falasian prisoner craft, filled with some of the most violent war criminals from the Rylak campaigns, had slipped past planetary perimeters and disappeared into a wormhole.
According to intelligence accounts, it had vanished into deep space without a trace.
Her second inferno was the one happening right now on Alloria.
The place was going up in flames with rebel leaders threatening to overturn the government.
All morning her comms had gone off, and one in particular, from the highest office on Eden II, had a Priority One tag on it, and she sighed.
Fokk.
The flyer’s engines thrummed, slicing through Eden II’s early daybreak sprawl like a blade through silk.
The city unfurled below in stark contrasts, gleaming spires of obsidian and glass climbing skyward beside crumbling steel-block housing and neon-lit alleyways that never slept.
Cyclo-taxis zipped through the mid-tier sky lanes, swerving around cargo haulers and patrol cruisers. On the street level, vendors hawked steaming dumplings and mech repair kits alongside scrap dealers shouting over the clamor of the crowds.
Holo-billboards pulsed with shifting ads in thirty dialects, touting the latest neural upgrades, club nights atThe Osirian, and ominous recruitment calls for Pegasi’s border outposts.
A group of kids raced beneath the arch of an old temple ruin.
Their laughter was enchanting and wild, while a pair of Eden Guardians stood watch at the next corner, scanning the crowd for trouble.
Pegasi’s most industrious moon planet was indeed a living paradox.
Her wrist link pinged.
She sighed. ‘What now?’
The holo-call flared to life, and Mirage’s smooth, sarcastic voice filled the cabin.
‘Morning, Colonel. I take it you’re en route.’
‘I am, can’t ignore a Priority One summons. Let me guess,’ Rina drawled, rubbing a brow. ‘The grand and mighty Kainan Sable wants to speak to me before the conference kicks off?’
‘He just needs a couple of words,’ Mirage replied with unbothered charm.
‘On a scale of one to ten, how ready to scorch me is he?’
‘Somewhere between a nine and eternal damnation. But hey, he’s smiling today. You’ll probably live.’
She gave a tired laugh despite herself. ‘Must be some magic Selena dreamed up because I’m not the cause of his joy, that’s for sure. Catch you soon for the reaming.’
‘In a few, Colonel.’ Mirage winked out, leaving only the hum of engines and the distant murmur of the city below.
The craft winged past the Justice Centre, the venue for the upcoming military conference she had come to attend.
She sighed at the masses of protesters lined outside, their shouts and roars reverberating in the air.
Fokk, this was going to be a tedious jaunt.
The flyer banked right, descending toward Sable HQ in the city’s centre.
The cluster of buildings rose like a monolith of glass and chrome, jagged and imposing against the skyline.
Beneath its shadow satThe Osirian, the Riders’ infamous restaurant and nightclub, its outer terrace quiet at this hour.
The craft touched down with a soft hiss at the landing pad at its front door.
