Page 99 of Stars in Umbra
Still, he got rushed to Dunia Central Medical, the city’s top trauma facility.
Just as news holos picked up the scene, dispatching sleek cam units to hover over the wreckage.
By nightfall, the footage was everywhere.
Rina stirred in her bed, the gauzy curtain panels rippling in the dawn breeze.
Her townhouse was perched on the third terrace of the Silverlake District.
This historic yet refined quarter of New Rambasa was built on the edge of the eastern bluffs, offering glimpses of the ocean beyond.
It had high ceilings, brass-fitted windows, sun-drenched timber floors, and walls lined with awards, military artifacts, and shelves overflowing with books and art.
The rest of the interior was minimalist and elegant.
Everything had its place, reflecting life lived in quiet order.
Yet this morning, her body protested the routine.
Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded and unfocused, and she immediately knew something was wrong. Her stomach twisted.
She flung the covers aside, stumbled into the ensuite, and made it to the sink before retching.
The nausea came in waves, retched biliousness that was bitter and insistent.
Her knuckles turned white against the porcelain as her limbs heaved again, then settled.
Breathing hard, she wiped her face, cursing under her breath as she reached for her toothbrush and paste.
‘Damn leftovers,’ she muttered, bracing a hand to her forehead. ‘Should’ve tossed them yesterday.’
After rinsing out her mouth with mint gel, she peeled off her nightshirt, showered beneath a blast of water that stung her skin back to life.
She dressed fast in a form-fitting slate-gray uniform, brass collar pin, and dark boots.
She whipped on lip gloss in the mirror.
Her honey-toned reflection was paler than usual, and her cheeks were hollowed.
She ignored it, brushing her curls into a knot and grabbing a dry cracker from the kitchen counter as she passed.
In her garage, she stepped into her flyer, keyed in the pilot commands, and rose into the busy skies of New Rambasa.
Parliament House loomed like a crown above the city, a vast, domed complex sheathed in obsidian glass and gold-veined sandstone.
The Dunian Military HQ sat nestled within, its corridors alive with dignitaries, aides, and the ever-watchful Peace Corps.
Rina arrived in the executive administration wing, her boots echoing across the polished floors as she entered the war room for her 0800 meeting.
Her team stood and saluted as she swept in.
‘As you were.’
They settled into their seats, as did she.
Her glance fell on Lieutenant Voss, all sculpted, tailored lines and restless energy. A native of the Kura Basin, he grew up among refinery stacks and union strikes.
He was brilliant but brash, a tactical prodigy who earned an early promotion for cracking a Rhesian encryption wall during the Varnathi border crisis.
