Page 75 of Stars in Aura

The Sacran medic closed her hand around the offering and pushed it back into the older female’s grasp. ‘De nada. This is a free clinic.’

In response, she received a hug, tears misting her patient’s eyes. ‘Weh laika, you’re an angel,’ she muttered, squeezing Issa’s hand.

If only she knew.

Issa smiled, hiding her agony.

She didn’t do this for appreciation.

She did it because the curse would take someone she loved if she didn’t.

She escorted the senior woman to the door and spoke to her in the whistling tones of Pikani before she let her go.

More figures emerged from the shadows in silence, souls desperate for relief.

Another sigh.

Another wave of exhaustion.

She had work to do.

Ki’REMI

Sable HQ towered over Eden City in a skyline of glass and steel.

Its structure was sleek, crystalline, and monolithic, reflecting the glow of the twin suns.

Ki’Remi moved through the expansive lobby, striding toward the private elevator.

It carried him to the top floor, where he strode into a boardroom of gleaming panes and ambient gilded lighting, an elegant lair where some of Eden II’s most influential decisions were made.

At the heart of it sat Mirage.

She lounged in a floating anti-grav chair, her legs crossed in casual indifference.

A creature of impossible beauty, her skin was the deepest shade of onyx, polished like liquid night. Her eyes gleamed unearthly gold, flickering with the vast intelligence of the enormous galaxy-wide systems she controlled.

Tonight, she was adorned in a shimmering body suit.

The fabric whispered like stardust over her curves, glowing at the seams, shifting in color from deep sapphire to molten rose aureate with every movement.

Her limbs were long, elegant, dangerous, and utterly divine.

A cheroot rested between her lips, unlit for now, but her fingers tapped against it as she eyed him with an amused, perceptive smirk.

‘My favorite Sable.’

‘Liar. We’re all your favorites.’

‘Truth.’

Mirage’s voice purred through the boardroom, rich with self-satisfied amusement only she could pull off.

She leaned back in her sleek, high-backed chair, a vision of ebony-skinned perfection, her liquid gold eyes alight with mischief.

‘Always a delight when you grace me with your presence, Sable. How can I be of assistance?’

As she spoke, she sucked one end of a synth cheroot, and from between her lips trailed a thin wisp of fragrant smoke.

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