Crossing Lines
S amira’s cavern home was quiet, save for the far-off, ever-present trickle of water running through the veins and over the walls of Thalassi.
She moved with practiced efficiency, gathering her gear in the small room that had been her aunt’s sanctuary since the war began.
Her armor accouterments lay across the cot she’d been sleeping on alongside Misandra’s bed.
She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of her shimmering chest plate, which was reinforced with a hydrophilic alloy. This alloy was designed to channel water and amplify her fluid kinetics in battle.
Her boots stood ready nearby, and she slipped her socked feet into them.
Nearby, her pack rested half-filled with rations, medical supplies, and a bundle containing her kinetic disruptor rifle.
Samira adjusted the straps of her carry-all, even as she fought to keep her mind from wandering to the man preparing to leave with her.
Still, her eyes were drawn to him through the open door across the hall.
In her bedroom, Kisan worked silently, his motions carrying through the stone corridor.
His knapsack, black and battle-worn, sat on the floor.
She observed as he reached for his mask, hesitating, his jaw tightening.
His hands cradled it, its dormant circuits glinting in the light. Since its last power surge, it had yet to make a sound or show a flicker.
He bounced it as if weighing the pros and cons of uncovering its energy source.
With a sigh, he sealed it in his bag and stood, rolling his shoulders,
Samira stepped out first, her pack slung over one shoulder and her disruptor rifle strapped across her back.
She glanced at Kisan as he appeared in the doorway to her room. His imposing frame filled the space. Bag crossed over his chest, weapons strapped on.
Their gazes met, locked, souls churned.
For a moment, the war, the mission, and the onus of their responsibilities fell away.
Samira once more was hit with a wild and distracting desire for this untamed man with a melancholy soul.
‘Ready?’ Kisan drawled, breaking the silence, his mouth twisting as if he’d read her thoughts.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ she replied, her tone composed.
They stood still for a beat, the charged air thick with unspoken words.
Kisan’s emerald eyes searched hers as if trying to understand what lay beneath the unruffled exterior she was working so hard to maintain.
She wondered how much longer she could keep her ruse up, around him, alone with him for the next few days.
Samira tightened her grip on the strap of her pack, forcing herself to focus.
‘We don’t have much time,’ she said, breaking the spell. ‘Our window whilst the Corilians change guard won’t stay open long.’
Kisan jerked his chin, his face unreadable. ‘Let’s move.’
Samira’s children and her aunt lingered at the exit of the cavern home, their small faces solemn, even sad at seeing them off.
While Samira said her goodbyes, Kisan waited outside at the edge of the glowing lake, hands folded over his chest, watching.
Malik ran to his mother first, his arms wrapping around her waist. ‘You’ll come back soon, right, mama?’ he asked, his voice muffled against her armor.
‘I will,’ she promised, kissing his dark curls. ‘When I do, you’ll have more stories to tell me.’
Liora stood in silence beside her brother, her gaze steady as she anticipated her turn.
When Samira knelt, Liora leaned in and hugged her close. ‘Be safe, mama,’ she said, quiet but firm.
‘I will, little one. I love you so much,’ Samira murmured, brushing her daughter’s hair.
When she straightened, her children turned, gazing at Kisan in expectation.
He raised a brow, tilted his head, and then a grin broke out over his chiseled features.
He raised a hand, and Malik hesitated. Then, he darted ahead, wrapping his arms around Kisan’s waist.
Liora followed, her limbs circling him as well.
The tall, burly Rider froze for a moment, unaccustomed to such unguarded fondness.
He glanced at Samira for guidance, and when she smiled, he let out a breath and placed a tentative hand on each child’s back.
‘Be brave, kids,’ he rasped, his timbre gruff with affection.
‘We already are,’ Liora whispered.
Misandra stepped forward next, her face lined with worry.
Samira’s aunt clasped her niece’s hands. ‘Be safe and come back to us. You’re the heart of this home and this world.’
Samira nodded, kissing the weathered cheek. ‘I’ll return, and we’ll win this war; you wait and see.’
The sound of water lapping against the stone shore filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of life in the cavern city.
The underground garrison bustled with purpose.
Sharin had instructions on how to prep their weapons systems for the new possible kinetics tech.
Samira’s unit was on rotation, on watch with others in their small, tight-knit army.
The Vaelorii knew the window of time they’d earned was short—two weeks, at best—before the cyborgs regrouped and struck again.
As Kisan and Samira strode toward the surface, the echo of their boots was the only sound in the cavernous corridors.
Both were alert, their senses tuned to the possibility of danger, but their thoughts lingered elsewhere.
Samira’s heart beat faster than it should, though she kept her face impassive.
She had always been proficient at compartmentalizing, at setting aside feelings that threatened to weaken her resolve.
However, Kisan was different—an unexpected force in her controlled life. She glanced at him, his aqua eyes scanning the shadows, his jaw set in a tic.
Their hands brushed briefly as they turned a corner, the contact sending a jolt through both of them.
Samira stiffened, her gaze snapping forward, while Kisan cleared his throat and adjusted his bag.
Neither spoke of it, but the tension between them only grew heavier.
The Cephei’s flyer waited in a hidden alcove near the edge of the cavern system. Its sleek silhouette contrasted with the rough-hewn stone around it.
After helping Samira onboard and packing their supplies into the hold, Kisan settled behind the operating panel, stealthing the craft from Corilian eyes.
The skimmer lifted off, his hands steady on the controls. He punched the engines, and they rose rapidly into orbit.
The Cephei was waiting in the cover of a roiling cloud system high up in the atmosphere, cloaked in the wake of a giant thunderstorm rolling over the planet’s arctic oceans.
Its stealth wrap shimmered as its expansive rear deck yawed open to let the flyer in.
With a feather touch softness, they landed.
‘Welcome to my ship,’ Kisan intoned, hopping from the smaller craft onto the deck of the gunship.
Samira marveled at the vessel’s design as they got through the airlocks and took the stairs to the bridge.
The exterior was a masterpiece of slick lines and engineering.
Inside, the ship blended cutting-edge technology with understated luxury. The cockpit gleamed with holo-displays, each alive with streams of data. The walls were lined with sleek panels, and the floors were made of reinforced material that absorbed the throb of the power core.
The atmosphere exuded metal and clean circuitry.
‘This is impressive,’ Samira admitted as the Rider guided her through the corridors.
‘It’s Sable tech; they do things well.’
‘They? Aren’t you one of them?’
‘I’ve never quite fit in,’ he confessed in a growl.
Samira tilted her head, studying him, her eyes glittering with humor. ‘’Tis true, you’re a creature apart, once removed from their species.’
‘ Fokk off,’ he rasped, their eyes locking and familiar aching attraction arcing through the air.
Kisan broke off the scorching connection, slicing his eyes away and lifting his hands to gesture around the bridge.
‘The Cephei is a work of art, but not just for show,’ he grunted. ‘She’s built for stealth, speed, and silence. Perfect for what we’re about to do.’
She let the moment pass with a slight shrug.
He caught it but glanced away, striding ahead without a word.
He came to a stop at a door. ‘Your onboard quarters.
She peeked at a compact but tidy space with a narrow bed, a small desk, and a storage compartment. The walls were plain, with shelves on one side and dominated by an expansive window to the exterior world on the other.
‘There’s a head through that door for dual water and sonic showers.’
Samira placed her satchel on the mattress and turned to Kisan. ‘ Sante .’
‘You’re welcome,’ Kisan said, his green eyes solemn.
As he left her to settle in, the door sliding shut with a soft hiss, Samira sat on the edge of the divan.
The Cephei dusted off moments later, rising with smooth precision into the atmosphere.
She rummaged through her bag and removed a holo photo frame she carried with her on missions.
She stroked its battered rim, her fingers running over the shimmering images of her children and aunt. With a deep sigh, she flung herself back onto the bed and closed her eyes.
The throb of the Cephei’s engines filled the cabin, a steady vibration beneath Kisan’s boots as he leaned against the bulkhead of the comms room.
His thoughts lingered on the woman, whose presence he sensed wherever she moved in the ship. His kinetic perception picked her up a few doors away in her quarters.
She was unpacking, moving with grace like always, her every step light and gliding yet with a gravitas all her own.
He admired her resilience and fire, but her hidden vulnerability pulled at him most.
‘Twas a dangerous thing, his growing need for her, but he couldn’t deny its existence.
With a groan, he forced his thoughts to shift to the call he had to make.
He keyed in the encrypted frequency with practiced ease.
His aqua eyes narrowed as he waited for the connection.
The projection flared to life, projecting the sculpted, angular face of Sax, the Sarabaite.
His silver meta eyes locked onto Kisan with immediate suspicion.
‘Brother,’ Sax growled. ‘Two calls in less than a month doesn’t bode well.’
‘I’m en route to Skardis,’ Kisan replied without preamble. ‘Recall that favor I mentioned? Start packing.’
Sax’s brows waggled. ‘Alone, I hope. You know I don’t do tag-a-longs or posses.’
Kisan crossed his arms and sucked his teeth. ‘Brother, I’m not bringing a posse, but I’m not solo either.’
Sax leaned forward, his chiseled, bearded face filling the holo, revealed from the darkness of his ever-present shroud.
It was a brutal, handsome face with defined cheekbones and a high forehead denoting a deep intelligence and eyes that glimmered with narrowed and calculated insight. ‘What part of ‘I work alone or only with you’ didn’t you understand? I don’t have time to babysit your entourage.’
‘It’s not an entourage,’ Kisan said, his voice sharpening. ‘I’m bringing someone key to this mission.’
The shrouded man onscreen studied Kisan, one brow shooting up. ‘Ah, a lover?’
‘We’re not -.’
‘Yet, is the word you’re looking for,’ Sax scoffed. ‘I sense it, even from halfway across Pegasi. You’re lovesick for her like a dry well needs water in a weary wilderness. You thirst for her with the deepest longing, with such profound craving you pant for it. It’s a yearning that grips your heart with such fervor I glimpse it in your eyes.’
‘ Fokk off.’
Sax chuckled. ‘Back to the problem at hand. What’s the freakin’ mission? What kind of trouble are you dragging me into this time?’
Kisan explained the invasion of Orilia XIV by the Corilians. ‘Their own attacking them, it’s diabolical.’
‘You’re their knight in shining armor, ay?’
‘They need my mask,’ Kisan said, his voice heavy with the encumbrance of the admission. ‘I need the blueprints from Trivina. From the studio of the Iccythrian jewel master who created it.’
Sax’s expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. ‘The spinel objet de terreur,’ he repeated, his tone dripping with disapproval. ‘The same freakin’ voidmaker the Riders were adamant you never touch again. You swore an oath never to use the artifact. If they find out—’
‘They won’t,’ Kisan interrupted, his inflection sharp. ‘This is my fight, not theirs.’
‘Pfft, it’s your lover’s conflict. Remember, ‘’tis the mask that wiped out half of the Fringe, plus thousands across Alloria and Falasia killed.’
‘I’m not using it to harm humans, only to repurpose its tech on the Corilians,’ Kisan rasped, his voice firm. ‘This is different.’
Sax scoffed, his face cast in amused derision. ‘That’s what you told yourself the last time. ‘Virtuous purpose,’ wasn’t it? Look where that got you. Use it, and the Riders might disown you.’
‘Whatever will be, will be. Also, what they fokkin’ don’t find out, won’t hurt ‘em.’
Kisan jolted as he realized he was ready to sacrifice his relationship with his Rider brothers for the cause of a woman who’d drugged him and then enticed him into fighting for her people’s freedom.
‘There it is. You like her. You’re even willing to destroy your link to your brotherhood for her.’
Kisan’s jaw tightened, the familiar sting of guilt flaring in his chest. ‘ Fokk Sax. This isn’t about my fellowship—it’s about saving lives.’
‘The hell it isn’t. Benevolent intentions pave many fokked -up roads,’ Sax shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm. ‘Not all of them lead where you think.’
The two stared at each other across millions of klicks, the tension crackling like static.
Finally, the shrouded man leaned back, crossing his arms. ‘ Sawa . I’ll help you get into the Ccyth workshop on Trivina. Just don’t expect me to clean up your mess if this goes sideways.’
Kisan let out a slow breath. ‘Fair enough.’
Sax tilted his head, his tone turning mocking with fake reverence. ‘May the saints protect your foolish, lovesick soul, my friend. Though I doubt they’re listening.’
The holo flickered and went dark, leaving the Rider alone on the dim bridge.
The ship’s drone filled the silence, and he exhaled through clenched teeth, his frustration simmering.
Sax’s stubbornness hadn’t changed, but the man wasn’t wrong about the risks.
‘ Fokk !’ he growled, slamming his hand into the console he was bent over.
He closed his eyes, inhaling with ragged breaths.
He hated being called out by his only ally in his hope-forsaken existence.
When he tagged a scuff on the floor, his eyes flew open, and he twisted his upper body.
To find Samira leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed, her boots too, at the heel.
Her silver and gold eyes glinted, though her expression was thoughtful.
‘Make your call?’ she said, her voice even but laced with curiosity.
‘I did. My mate is grumpy that I’m bringing you along, but he’ll get over it,’ Kisan replied, brushing past her. ‘Sax’s growl is worse than his bite, and he’ll play footsie because I need him to.’
Samira followed him into the corridor, her grav-enabled soles clicking against the polished floor. ‘You think that’s wise? Starting a mission with half the team pissed off at you?’
‘He’s always annoyed at something,’ Kisan said with a smirk. ‘He’ll get over it.’
Samira’s gaze lingered on him, her expression unreadable. ‘You trust him?’
‘I do,’ Kisan said without hesitation. ‘While he’s a freakin’ grump, he’s also the best at what he does, and he owes me for sticking around this long and putting up with his brooding, bearish ass.’
Samira nodded, her tone lightening. ‘Fascinating.’
He glanced at her, his lips quirking into a smile. ‘That he is. Hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘Follow me.’