Stars in Nova (The Sable Riders #6)

Utterly Consuming

T he bioluminescent lights in the garrison’s ceiling and walls flickered as Kisan sat at the edge of the workbench, running fingers over the device in his hands.

His metanoids sent telemetry to his neural node as the cool alloy pressed against his palms, its dark spinel and glowing green circuitry dormant.

Despite its lifelessness, the mask felt heavier than before—like it bore the load of the Vaelorian’s future, which hung in the balance.

Across from him, Sharin stood with her arms crossed, frustration evident in her furrowed brow and the slight tension in her jaw.

Tools lay scattered on the table, their once-precise organization disrupted by hours of futile attempts to crack the mask’s secrets.

‘I’ve tried everything,’ she said, her voice hoarse, exhausted, tapping her foot on the stone floor in irritation.

‘Heat, cold, sonic pulses, micro-drills—nothing works. This thing is built with tech I’ve never seen. Without its blueprints, we’re flying blind.’

Kisan glanced down at the mask. His fingers brushed over the smooth surface. ‘Sad to say, but it is dead. Won’t work unless I gain access to its schematics to untangle what the fokk is wrong with it and how we can repurpose it for your war.’

Sharin sighed. ‘Not what I wanted to hear but expected.’

‘The designs aren’t in my neural index, neither on my ship’s database,’ he rasped, raising a brow.

Sharin tilted her head, her star-flecked eyes narrowing. ‘Where are they?’

‘Galicia,’ Kisan replied.

He set the artifact down, the thud reverberating through the space. ‘In a jewel maker’s shop in Trivina. The designer, an Iccythrian gemstone master, who created this mask left the technical sketches in their private vault. If we’re going to replicate it—or figure out how to restart it—we’ll need those plans.’

Samira entered the room, her gaze flicking between the Rider and Sharin. ‘I just caught the last bit of your conversation. How do you propose we get them?’ she asked the Rider, her voice laced with caution.

Kisan turned to face her, his aqua eyes glowing in the dim light. ‘I’ll have to freakin’ steal them because no self-respectin’ Iccythrian will hand them over to me. Not when they hold the secrets to one of the most terrifying anarchists ever known. Least of all, the master jeweler who doesn’t need to know my new identity.’

Her brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. ‘Robbing an Iccythrian? Some of the most skilled trigger-happy mofos on this planet. You’re just going to waltz into Trivina, appropriate the blueprints from a secure location, and get out alive? Alone?’

‘ Nada ,’ he rasped. ‘I’ll need one or two intrepid souls to have my six.’

Samira’s lips twisted with a shaky exhale. ‘Who are you thinking of?’

Kisan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced away, lost in thought. ‘A Sarabaite,’ he admitted, his tone gruff. ‘One living on Skardis, near the fringe of Pegasi. He owes me a favor.’

Samira arched a brow, her arms folding across her chest. ‘One of those wandering monks who refuse alliances, live like hermits, and quote scripture when they’re pissed off or need to get their way? How do you even know one?’

Kisan’s lips twitched with the hint of a smirk. ‘Long story, Commander.’

‘I bet it is,’ she shot back, the skepticism in her tone tinged with amusement. ‘Let me guess: you punched him first and asked for help later?’

Kisan snorted, meeting her eyes. ‘Not quite, but close. He’s the best soldier, science tech, infiltrator, and gunman I’ve ever met. If anyone can watch my six in Trivina and get me back out in one piece, it’s him.’

‘So you’re just going to show up on his doorstep after years and say, ‘Hey, remember that favor you owe me?’ Samira stepped closer, her gaze locking on his. ‘Sounds like a foolproof plan.’

Kisan tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with mockery. ‘Your sarcasm’s noted. But yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. Some might say we’re friends, soul brothers, even though he might not want to help or be found.’

Samira’s expression shifted to concern, her worry leaking through the cracks of her calm facade. ‘What if he doesn’t want to play? His refusal makes your trip too risky because we don’t have time. The Corilians will only come harder and faster at us until they’ve worn us down.’

‘It’s the best option we’ve got,’ Kisan stated. ‘The mask’s kinetic capability has the potential to penetrate the cyborgs’ shields on a massive scale, shift the balance of power, and turn the tide against the enemy. You witnessed it yourself on the battlefield.’

Samira sighed, her shoulders relaxing even as her brow furrowed in thought. ‘Fine,’ she said at last, her voice begrudging. ‘But one more issue—I’m coming with you.’

Kisan’s mouth quirked. ‘You don’t need to.’

‘ Naam , I do.’ She stepped even closer, her chin lifting in defiance. ‘Someone has to make sure you come back.’

His grin widened, a growl rumbling in his chest. ‘You worried I might fokk off with my mask and leave you hanging?’

‘Something like that,’ Samira shot back, her eyes narrowing in a challenge.

‘Or maybe,’ Kisan leaned in, his rasp dropping to a teasing rumble, ‘you just can’t stand to have me out of your sight.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she retorted, though the pink on her cheeks betrayed her. ‘I have to keep you out of trouble.’

Kisan chuckled. ‘Good luck with that.’

Samira stood at the entrance to the armory, her gaze fixed on the Rider.

He was directing a group of her engineers, his deep voice carrying over the hum of activity around them.

He was on a mission to understand the Vaelorian weaponry systems, so once they returned with the schematics, he would know how to integrate the spinel kinetic tech.

She eased into the shadows, into a dark corner where she could watch without being caught gawking at him.

Kisan was beautiful, his strength unyielding, his presence commanding, and his movements precise and deliberate.

He was always clad in black, his tactical gear sleek and molded to his body.

The matte and tech-enhanced fabric absorbed light rather than reflecting it, giving him an almost predatory aura.

She shivered when his eyes met hers in the shadows.

His gaze carried a raw intensity that set her pulse racing.

The electric jade of his irises appeared to pierce through her as though he could see all the thoughts she tried to keep hidden.

It wasn’t just attraction—she felt he understood her in a way no one else had.

She took an inhale to control her wayward emotions.

Kisan was not just her thirst trap, she scolded herself.

He was part of the solution, a key player in their effort to rebuild and secure Orilia XIV’s fragile peace.

She reminded herself of that, repeating the words like a mantra to keep from fawning over him.

Yet, logic faltered in the face of her growing emotions.

Kisan gave her a slight nod, acknowledging her from across the room, and her cheeks heated.

She glanced away, forcing herself to focus on anything other than him.

Nevertheless, her heart betrayed her, pounding against her ribs with a steady insistence that reminded her of just how much he affected her.

He wasn’t just a man—he was a force. How he commanded attention and seemed to carve through the space around him with effortless confidence left her breathless.

She didn’t just admire him for his strength, though.

She respected him for his conviction.

The way he had taken her people’s cause as his own. For how he appeared to carry the sadness of the galaxy on his shoulders yet still found time to smile and play with her children.

Perhaps, most of all, she admired him for how he made her feel. Alive, in a way she hadn’t thought possible since the war began.

He turned, his gaze locking onto hers again.

This time, he didn’t just nod. He stalked toward her, his boots making soft thuds against the stone floor of the subterrane.

‘Samira,’ he growled, his bass-rich expression unreadable but his eyes warm.

‘Kisan,’ she whispered in a husky tone, working hard to distill the erraticism from her utterance.

He stopped before her, his towering form blocking the world behind him.

For a moment, neither spoke, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and the sounds of the bustling cavern around them.

‘You have a habit of watching me,’ he rasped, his mouth quirking.

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away, raising her chin with defiance. ‘So if I have?’

His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just enough that she perceived his heat and tagged his masculine scent—leather, musk, clean skin. ‘Then I’d say I’m flattered.’

Her lips curved into a small smile. ‘You shouldn’t be. I’m just taking all precautions with you, searching for any chinks in your armor, any telltale signs that you might back out of our little arrangement.’

He growled. ‘I never back out of anything I commit myself to.’

For a moment, they just gazed at each other, the significance of their connection pressing in on them.

His hand cupped her cheek as if drawn to her by some invisible force. She leaned into his touch, her heart racing as his thumb brushed her skin.

‘You’re dangerous,’ she whispered.

‘So are you,’ he rasped.

Then his lips were on hers, firm, warm, fokkin ’ consuming.

She melted into him, her hands clutching the fabric of his gear as he pulled her closer. The world faded, leaving only the two of them and the quiet fire that burned between them.

When they tore apart moments later, her breath was ragged, her exhalations short gasps, teetering on the edge of losing her shit.

‘Tell me something, woman, he grated. ‘Were the feelings, the intimacy we shared on Eden II true or only part of your plan to hold me to ransom?’

She tilted her head and gazed at him. ‘I can’t lie to you, nor do I want to. They were real, handsome.’

His eyes warmed, and those sensuous lips of his lifted.

Her chest burned. Fokk, he was beautiful.

He leaned in, sliding his hands in her hair. ‘Show me again how genuine they were.’

She did until he pulled away and stalked off.

‘Scared Sableman?’

He paused mid-step. ‘ Nada , just wary is all.’

He powered back into the light, leaving her panting, one hand on the wall beside her, hiding her need, her ever-lovin’ desire for him in the darkness.

The glow of overhead lanterns in the garrison’s infirmary cast shadows across the rows of makeshift beds, their light reflecting off the polished instruments on the medics’ carts.

While Kisan underwent his final health check, Samira walked through the small hospital’s corridors, chatting with the media, nurses, and patients.

The beeping of monitors punctuated the hushed murmur of voices.

Injured combatants lay on cots, their faces pale and worn, as physicians worked to dress wounds and administer fluids.

The occasional groan of anguish broke through the quiet, a harsh reminder of the cost of their fight.

Samira often came here, her presence a balm to those who needed it.

She walked through the wards and rows of beds, occasionally pausing to speak to the injured, her touch light on a shoulder or hand.

Even in pain, the soldiers’ expressions brightened when they spotted her.

Their respect for her was tangible, an unspoken acknowledgment that she carried their hopes, even when her strength was depleted.

She returned to the emergency area with a slight smile, amused by a raw joke one of the grunts had shared.

The Rider’s aqua eyes canted toward Samira, an unreadable expression on his face as she moved toward him, stopping to speak with a patient.

Finally, she got to his side.

He sat on the edge of a cot, face closed off as Soren, the Vaelorian head medic, scanned him with a handheld device.

‘You’re clear for the surface,’ Soren announced after a few more minutes. ‘Your meta levels are stabilizing, but you’re fit to travel.’

Kisan gave a curt nod, his eyes lingering on the shimmer of scars still fading from his forearms. ‘ Sante .’

Samira flashed him a wry smile. ‘You ship shape and good to go?’

He jerked his chin at her. ‘ Fokk yeah.’

‘Fighting words,’ she murmured as he rose to his full height, looming over her.

He gave her a lop-sided grin as they proceeded to walk in sync through the clinic.

She tagged the concern in his eyes when he studied the patients they passed by.

Kisan’s gaze locked on her, his expression shuttering as if hiding a lifetime of triggered memories. ‘How do you fokkin ’ deal with it?’

She sensed the struggle assaulting his mind, recalling his history.

‘This place and our current reality aren’t easy,’ she muttered. ‘However, seeing these soldiers, even laughing with them, reminds me what I’m fighting for.’

Kisan’s countenance softened. ‘They look to you like you’re their shield.’

‘And you?’ she asked, tilting her head. ‘What do you see?’

He hesitated for a moment before answering. ‘A warrior who cares and carries too much. Yet one who doesn’t let it break her.’

Her breath caught, the unexpected emotion of his words settling in her chest.

‘I could say the same for you,’ she murmured, motioning for him to follow as they left the infirmary.