Cassidy walks a half-step ahead, buoyant... practically glowing. Her stride has that loose, rolling confidence she believes she should emulate when a plan locks into place. The arms deal went clean. No double-crosses. No sudden alarms. For her, that’s practically a win already.
“Can you believe it?” she says excitedly. “Our first mission... and new... well maybe not new, but still...” She turns around, the desire to jump into his arms is strong. To feel him lift her, as if she weighed nothing. Maybe he would push her up against the bulkheads as he rips open the buttons from her blouse... and...
She laughs nervously.
“...upgrades.” ‘Deep breaths, deep breaths... in and out....and hold... now exhale.’ She can already feel the heat in her neck rising. ‘Are there no end to these hormones and their erratic timings? One moment I’m just happy as can be... the next... I want him to have his way with me behind the vent shafts... shaft... switches and circuits... what’s wrong with me?’
RUN SELF DIAGNOSTIC: ANOMALOUS EMOTIONAL STIMULI_CAUSE
LIST OF SYMPTOMS: INCREASE IN HEARTRATE, TEMPERATURE SPIKES, INCREASE IN LIBIDO (Not a bad thing, just unexpected)
RESULT: SUBCONSCIOUS REACTION TO STIMULI RESULTING IN INTERCOURSE
CONCLUSION: PRE-EMPTIVE STATE OF AROUSAL
His voice in her head was unexpected. ‘That’s what you get for reading that kind of stuff.’
“I didn’t read...” but the burning of her cheeks told otherwise... and she knew, he knew... of course he did. “Don’t laugh at me. Being alive is proving more... challenging than I anticipated.” Her shoulders started sagging.
She was wrapped in his arms before she could process what was happening. A quick look in both directions revealed that they were for the most part... secluded. Immediately she melted into his embrace, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to that mighty heart pumping furiously inside the shielded chest. “I... I... want you, Alden. Here, now. I can’t explain it... maybe the adrenalin from landing the job. I don’t know why. I mean... look at this place... it’s filthy. I just... I just...”
His arms tightened, her booted feet dangled comically beneath her as he held her, but it was his voice that soothed the flames of her desires. ‘I know my love. I see you. Later, when the day has been completed and it is just you and me... I will stroke those embers that plague you so... and make sure you close your eyes with my name tumbling from your sated lips.’
She thumped her forehead against his chest plate... “Damn it! You’re... not... helping!. Put me down, major.”
He complied.
Then she pushed him away... playfully. “Stroke the embers that plague me! Really? Now I understand what is meant by ‘needing a cold shower.’... thank you... thanks... a lot.” But then that cheeky smile spread on her face, a twinkle caught in her cyan eyes... “You promise to keep my lips... sated?”
Silence.
“Oh, now suddenly you’re mister silent and deadly. Just remember, I made a note of every word you said... and I will expect results... results!”
She turned towards the direction they had been heading. Shar kept close. Always close.
The bone-white faceplate masks his mouth and jaw entirely, smooth and expressionless at first glance, but the rest of him spoke volumes. The slight cant of his head as he scans corners. The way his shoulders stay squared, ready. His eyes... dark, steel-grey, sharp... never stop moving.
Cassidy glances back at him, grinning.
“Did you see the look on Largo’s face when I started playing hardball?” she says, laughing. “I swear she nearly choked on her own ego.”
Shar’s eyes crease faintly at the corners. Amusement. Then taps against an invisible console in the air.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, wagging a finger at him. “I know. ‘Don’t get cocky.’ But tell me you didn’t like the double-barrel photon canons. Those things are ancient... but they sure make a mess.”
He lifts one hand, miming an explosion with his fingers. He tilts his head, then gives a slow, deliberate nod.
They pass from alley into artery. The station opens around them, widening into a thoroughfare where light multiplies and sound becomes a living thing. Music bleeds from open stalls... three rhythms fighting for dominance. Vendors shout in half a dozen dialects. Holo-banners ripple overhead, advertising spices, implants, pilgrimages, pleasures.
-o.0-
I had been staking the entrance of the Anchorage whilst the young Captain and the monster were inside. Leaning against a well rusted bulkhead, my scales were already starting to adapt to my surroundings when the pair of newcomers came strutting outside as if they owned the place. I made my profile as flat against the bulkhead as possible, hoping that the deep shadows surrounding me, would be enough of a cover, to keep me hidden. It was clear that the young Captain was distracted. She seemed almost... giddy, as if she was walking on air.
‘So... the mask is slipping.’ I thought to myself. ‘Who are you... really?’
I couldn’t really make out what she was saying from where I was located, but she sure looked... animated. Then the monster picked her up and I witnessed what could only be described as... intimacy. I gambled, slinking between shadows until I was as close as I dared move. I could now listen more clearly, and I realized that this was no mere ‘one-sided conversation’... they were... communicating. I remained hidden, watching the little drama play out before me until once again they started moving towards the open market and thoroughfare. I knew I would lose them eventually in the hustle and bustle surrounding the area, but it didn’t matter, because the young Captain had been sloppy... very sloppy.
‘Isn’t that right... Alden... or should I rather refer to you as... Major.’
I stepped inside the passage they had just left. This was going to be even spicier than I had originally presumed.
-o.0-
The crowd thickened, bodies brushing past, colors everywhere... silks and synth-leathers, polished armor plates and threadbare cloaks. Even the smell and odors shifts: fried dough, ion coolant, incense burned to mask something less pleasant... all around them, the elements of habitation became a pallet of variation... a veritable homage to life.
Cassidy inhales deeply. “Ahhh. Civilization. Slightly sticky, questionably legal civilization... and...” then brought her hand to her face, blocking her nose with her fingers. “... smelly. Hey buddy, take a bath!”
The person in question doesn’t even realize it’s them she is referring to... and just keeps on shambling in the direction they have been going. Alden angles his body just enough to shield her from a rushing pair of dockworkers. Protective. Automatic.
‘Addy... It’s not safe out here. We can’t just be looking for trouble wherever we go.’
She notices, softens for half a second. She turns her face up to him and tries out her most innocent looking expression... it doesn’t work.
“Fine.”
Then... keeps walking.
-o.0-
He watches her. The tiny bounce in her step, the way she turns to look at every little thing they pass, be it person or odd curio. He watches her. That childlike wonder for all the new things she gets to experience. He watches her.
He doesn’t tell her about the figure that has been following them. How he clocked them on their way to the Anchorage and again when they left, trying to remain hidden behind some bulkheads, moving with the shadows... all perfectly executed.
‘You should have told her. Why didn’t you?’
‘She’s... happy.’ He thinks to himself.
‘Is she... or is she learning that there is more to this galaxy... than you.’ The oily thing slithers in his unconscious, coils around his mind like a dirty thing that found its way through the sewers. ‘From here it’s only a matter of time until she realizes... she could have more... be... more... without you.’
A deep roiling anger starts to blossom in the dark depths of Shar’s being. Tiny spikes start to push through the hard edges of his carapace. He tightens his fists... great big claws that could rip these creatures around him to shreds... if he just... let...
A light touch against his chest snaps him back to his senses. He looks down, sees her hand placed flat against the prickly surface of his armor. Eyes of icy blue look up at him, soft... lovingly.
“Hey big guy... you, okay?” her voice is soft... comforting, concerned. “Whatever is going on in that head of yours... it’s going to be ok, just breathe... and... look at me. Keep looking... only at me.”
Slowly the rage seeps from his pores... the cloistered feeling of dread and anger tapers away and he starts to feel like his old self. Then he nods... and makes a sign that indicates he’s calm... in control.
Her smile returns, showing teeth and that infectiously happy tone that just brightens everything around him.
The oily thing slowly retreats to its place behind his peripheral vision... ‘You know I’m right.’ It sneers... ‘One day... she will leave you and she will watch you die without lifting a finger.’
‘So be it.’
Then he turns to her and makes a gesture indicating the ship, followed by what appeared to be him adding stuff to it... making it bigger... stronger.
Soon, they’re joking about ship loadouts now... Cassidy animatedly describing a hypothetical retrieval scenario where they absolutely, definitely need extra dorsal turrets ‘just in case,’ while Shar widens his eyes and makes a slicing motion across his throat, then points two fingers at her and mimes stealth.
“Oh, come on,” she laughs. “Just because we’re retrieving a thing doesn’t mean we can’t arrive loud.”
He taps the side of his faceplate, then makes a slow, sinking motion with his hand.
She snorts. “Scaredy cat. Minor details. We’ll... workshop... it.”
Something had caught her eye.
She stops dead.
No... she moves, suddenly and decisively, slipping through a gap in the crowd with a gasp of delight. Shar’s head snaps up, alarm flaring. For a heartbeat he thinks of dangers... threat vectors, angles of attack, exits... and he surges after her, long strides... eating distance as people curse and scatter.
He finds her a few meters ahead at the side of the walkway, behind a bunch of vendors selling exotic specimens and what appeared to be spices of different variations. She’s standing stock-still.
Relaxation replaces alarm.
‘Addy... you can’t just...’ but then he looks up... and understands immediately.
She is staring up at a massive holo-poster splashed across the side of a support pillar. It flickers slightly, old and a little out of date, but still vibrant: a riot of pastel stars and ridiculous typography, that resembles the aftermath of a unicorn stepping on a landmine... glitter and hot-pink blasted everywhere... and there in the center of all that vibrant crap, stands:
RAMSEY d’LAMBSHANKS & THE SNUGGLES
ONE NIGHT ONLY
FEEL THE FLUFF
Every few seconds, the image of the music icon would lean forward would lean forward, blowing holographic sparkles that twinkle around the poor passerby who inadvertently walked to close to the advert.
Cassidy’s hands fly to her mouth.
“It’s... it’s her... IT’S HER! Ald... I mean... SHAR!” She turns on him, eyes sparkling, practically vibrating. “LOOK.”
He looks. Reads. Tilts his head.
She grabs his arm, pleading already. “You have to take me. I don’t care if we have to sell a kidney. I don’t even care whose kidney. I have waited years to...”
He gently taps the lower corner of the holo with one finger.
The date scrolls into focus.
Expired.
Long expired.
The light drains from her face as if someone pulled a plug.
“Oh,” she whispers.
Her shoulders slump. The grin collapses inward. Ramsey leans forward again, blows her glitter... whilst Cassidy just keeps staring at the poster, as if willing it to change, to apologize, to resurrect itself... anything. When the image of Ramsey leans forward for the third consecutive time, she gathers herself.
“That’s not...” she starts, then stops.
The crowd surges.
Someone bumps her hard from the side... a jolt, sudden and careless. She stumbles, knocked back against Shar’s chest. His hands come up instantly, steadying her, anchoring her.
“Hey...” she breathes furiously, turning...
...and freezes.
The person who struck her is already moving past: a woman in rough, homespun space-peasant garb, patched and faded, one arm weighted with bags. A child clings to her other hand, wide-eyed, tugging insistently, trying to pull the woman through the press of bodies.
And there... undeniable, unmistakable...
the woman’s belly, round and heavy, stretching the fabric, the slow, careful way she moves around it.
Cassidy’s breath leaves her in a sharp, silent rush... taking with it the bout of anger she had mustered to hurl at the vagrant responsible for messing up he chance to see Ramsey’s show.
The world seems to tilt.
Sound dull to muted tones. Color drains. The music from the bazaar warps into something distant and hollow. Her knees weaken... just for a moment, but Shar is there, solid behind her, hands firm on her arms, holding her steady.
Her eyes burn. She blinks hard, once, twice... but it’s too late. The ache surges up from somewhere deep and old and raw, wrapping around her ribs like wire.
She turns to Shar.
“It’s... it’s not fair.”
Her eyes are red. Swollen. Shining with something that hurts to look at.
“Take me home.” she whispers, voice breaking despite herself.
“…Shar. Please.”
Confusion races through his thoughts. He looks up at the poster above them, then over at throng of people passing by. His mind races to find an answer to what just occurred, but then he sees the sadness etched on her face and he doesn’t hesitate.
His jaw tightens beneath the faceplate. His eyes soften... fierce, protective, unmistakably there. He nods once, sharply, and shifts his body around her, guiding her away from the crowd, away from the lights and the laughter and the poster still flickering behind them, inviting gullible fans like a cruel joke.
The bazaar keeps breathing.
But for Cassidy, something precious has gone quiet.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Lightyears away, Mother sits upon her throne. Her body feels bloated, ankles swollen and a creamy milk leak from her breasts that are filled to burst. Around her, attendants rub her body, massaging her aching muscles in preparation for the labor which is due to happen soon. The unborn kicks violently inside her womb and Mother gasps at the sharp pain that stabs her in the abdomen. Sweat beads upon her forehead as one of the attendants lean forward to wipe her brow before returning to rub her shoulders and neck.
Mother leans her head back, seeing the captive at an upside-down angle... “You should be proud... daddy... your daughter is strong... she will be a force to reckon with.” She groans as another kick lands in a sensitive area... “Oh yes... real feisty.”
She doesn’t see his face. Doesn’t see the tears streaming down his face after hearing the word daughter. She doesn’t see him planning his revenge, to strangle her with his bare hands if needed. He would see her dead... he would see her pay... he would... ‘will she have my eyes.’ He hated himself for even thinking about it.
Mother leaned back in her chair, scooping more of the gel like substance onto her skin to keep herself moistened. Closing her eyes whilst the attendants spread the coolant over her body.
She was just about to drift away, when a sharp pain stabbed her in the head like a psychic hammer punishing a nail for moving. She sat up straight... her scream echoed around the sanctum as she startled attendants with her sudden movement. One made a soft shrieking noise.
As if materializing from nothing, Blorgul oozed his fetid little frame through the tightened passage of the sanctum. “My queen. You called.” He grunted his way towards the dais upon which the throne was perched. “Are you in distress?”
His beady little eyes darted from one attendant to the next. Each... a smaller variant of the queen herself... each slightly misshapen in their own unique way. Flawed, yet beautiful. Their naked bodies working away at their queen’s form. They were not shunned or discarded... nothing that came from Mother’s womb ever was, but they would not be fed royal gelatinous mixture. Their bodies would remain infertile, underdeveloped... their minds sterile from the allure of ascendance. That’s why they were kept close, docile... attending to their mother’s needs, all the days of their lives. Blorgul didn’t mind their flaws... he didn’t mind them at all.
Mother waved him away... “Begone you cretin. I have no need for your services... or... presence.”
“Yes, my queen... I shall go at once. But before I do... seeing as I am here. Our swarms are being accosted by the filthy Imperium and their forces. They are picking off our forces with little effort, seeing as we’re just throwing bodies at them in the hopes of achieving our goals.”
“Noted. Resend orders... double our efforts, but... destroy any threats that stand in our ways. But whatever they do... find thAT GIRL!” Another kick makes her wince. “So, stop ogling my daughters... and get out!”
Blorgul doesn’t respond. Merely turns and makes his way from the sanctum.
The closest attendant to her head leans forward. “Revered Mother... you must not distress yourself this way. The babe... is she well?” She wipes the spittle from Mother’s lips. “You cried out in pain... what was it?”
Mother turned her head to look at her daughter, one eye unlike the other... feral...wild, with large teeth at that side of her face that was constantly slicing open her own cheek as it grew ever more vicious.
She noticed Mother’s eyes on her disfiguration, reaching back to hide her markings with her hair... ashamed of what she was. Mother reached up and caught her hand, moving it away affectionately.
“Don’t do that child... don’t hide your beauty.”
Sadness marred her face and Mother tilted her chin upwards.
“You and your sisters may not have been chosen to become queens. But that is fate that has been spared you... even if you do not realize it here and now. That’s why I keep you here with me... safe... secured.”
“And the pain Mother... what of the pain.”
“A minor annoyance... child. Just a toy... begging for attention. And attention... it shall have.”
----------------------------------------------------------------
The ship greeted them as they approached station side. Soft lights rising in sequence, the low, familiar hum of systems coming online as if the Sundancer itself exhaled in relief at their return. Metal and composite, warm with residual heat. Home, in the only way a thing built for motion could ever be home.
Shar lingered near the hatch longer than usual.
‘Ladies first.’
He watched her move through the corridor ahead of him, her stride just a fraction slower than normal. Not damaged. Not limping. Nothing he could point to, nothing he could fix with tools or violence or stubborn will. But he felt it all the same... something bent, something cracked where there hadn’t been a fracture before.
He hated that feeling... being... useless.
His jaw tightened behind the bone-white faceplate as he followed her toward their quarters. He tried for lightness, for normalcy. Lifted one hand, gesturing animatedly as if the air itself were a weapons catalog.
He mimed recoil. Spread his hands wide...
‘Double-barrel photon cannons! Can you believe that. It’s old... but we’ll make it work.’
... then grinned hopefully beneath the mask, shoulders rising in exaggerated bravado. Old military habits. Humor as duct tape. Optimism as a blunt instrument.
Cassidy glanced back at him.
She smiled. It was a real smile. Soft. Careful. The kind that tried very hard to reassure him.
“You don’t have to fuss,” she said quietly. “I’ll be alright.”
The words landed wrong. Shar stopped walking.
He searched her face... those eyes that could process star maps and battlefield telemetry faster than any human mind, now rimmed red, glassy in a way no diagnostic suite had ever prepared him for. He lifted a hand, hesitated, then let it fall. The mask made him clumsy at moments like this. Trapping his voice. Trapping his instincts.
‘I... I can fix this. Just... tell me what to do.’ He nods hopefully. The nod of a man who doesn’t know what else to do.
But she doesn’t have an answer. Not for him... not even for herself. Tears formed anew at the corners of her eyes, turning away from him in shame.
Then, with a sudden burst of resolve... as if motion itself might solve the problem... he tapped the comm on his wrist, pointed toward the hatch, and gave her a thumbs-up.
‘Don’t worry... I know what to do. I’ll make it all better. I always do.’
Cassidy watched him go.
Her mind unable to process the event, as she stood there long enough to hear the ship register his departure, the faint pressure shift as the outer lock cycled. Only when the corridor lights dimmed back to standby did she turn away... confused.
BRAD’s overtly cheerful voice piped up from somewhere overhead. “HEY CASSIDY! SHIP DIAGNOSTICS SHOW A MINOR... UH... HEY... WHERE’S THE BIG GUY GOING?”
She didn’t answer while leaning against one of the bulkheads in the empty corridor.
“OKAY. SEEING AS YOU’RE NOT BUSY. WOULD YOU KNOW OF A WAY TO GET THIRTY CRATES OF VACUUM SEALED LACY PANTIES OUT OF DEEP STORAGE AND DELIVERED TO... UH... ME?”
“Not now, Brad.” she said.
Her voice wasn’t sharp. Just empty.
BRAD went silent.
She moved down the corridor like gravity had increased by a few degrees, every step heavier than the last. The door to their quarters slid open at her approach, revealing familiar shadows and soft indirect lighting. A space that held many pleasant memories... a space shaped by them... and yet...
‘He... he just... left.’
-o.0-
The door slid shut behind her with a muted sigh.
The sound felt too loud.
She stood just inside the room, one hand still hovering near the panel as if she had forgotten what came next. The lights were low, the familiar geometry of the cabin reassuring in its precision... angles she knew, surfaces she had touched a thousand times... but now felt eerily foreign. She felt disorientated... the room was spinning. Slowly. Gently at first. As though it had decided to drift without her consent.
Her vision softened at the edges.
She swayed, fingers brushing the wall for balance. The air felt… thick. Heavy in her lungs. Her attire... Cassidy’s confident leathers and fitted blouse... suddenly felt wrong. Too tight. Too close. Like it was pressing inward, stealing space she desperately needed.
“Why is it...” Her voice caught. She swallowed, forcing breath into herself. “Why is it so hard to breathe?”
A warmth bloomed in her chest without warning. Not heat exactly... more like pressure. A spreading fullness that made her gasp as her tactile ducts tightened reflexively, skin flaring into hypersensitivity. The fabric of her blouse scraped against her like sandpaper, every stitched seam suddenly intolerable.
She tugged at the collar.
Nothing.
Her fingers fumbled, clumsy and imprecise, snagging on buttons that refused to cooperate. The cool, practiced veneer of Cassidy shattered completely, replaced by something raw and panicked as she fought her own clothing like it had betrayed her.
“Off... get it off...”
Buttons popped free. Straps slid from trembling shoulders. Garments fell in careless pieces to the floor. The jacket came first. Cassidy’s jacket. Worn leather and embedded plating, the swagger stitched into every seam. She shrugged out of it and let it hit the floor with a dull, final sound. Boots next. Kicked aside, careless. The belts. The holster. The layers that made her someone bold, loud, untouchable. Each piece removed felt less like undressing and more like surrendered... forgotten the instant they left her body. Her skin prickled in their absence, too exposed and still somehow smothered at the same time. By the time she stood there in the dim light, stripped down to bare skin and faintly glowing subdermal circuitry, Cassidy Butcher was gone.
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Only ADIRA remained.
She stepped over the discarded garments...then staggered toward the bathroom.
The door slid open and she rushed inside, nearly slipping as she collided with the sink. Her hands flew to the shower controls, yanking at levers with frantic urgency. Water burst from the overhead spout in a scalding rush before she corrected it, turning it down with sharp, angry motions.
Steam filled the space.
She stepped beneath the cascade and let it hammer against her, head bowed, breath coming in ragged pulls as the water came down hard... hot, relentless, pounding against her shoulders and scalp, cascading over her face in blinding sheets.
She braced one hand against the wall, whilst scrubbing at herself with the sponge, lather building in thick, frantic strokes.
‘... Wash it away...’
“Make it stop... make it... stop...!” she pleaded.
It didn’t.
The sensation only intensified.
Her skin felt wrong... too alive, nerves screaming with feedback that had no cause. The warmth in her chest deepened, pooling in places she didn’t have words for, her body reacting to something her mind couldn’t frame.
“What’s going on?” she whispered, voice breaking. “What’s happening to me?”
Her vision flickered briefly as internal overlays bloomed unbidden.
RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC SCAN…
SYSTEM INTEGRITY: NOMINAL
ENDOCRINE ANALOGS: STABLE
STRUCTURAL ANOMALIES: NONE DETECTED
She ran probability trees. Emotional correlation matrices. Memory associations.
None of it resolved.
She turned to the tiled wall, placed her palms flat against the cool surface as her breath came in ragged gasps. Her logic cores flagged escalating distress responses. Cortisol analogues spiked. Neural load exceeded predicted thresholds. She attempted regulation protocols... breathing patterns, cognitive reframing, emotional dampening.
Failure.
Again.
Failure.
Her throat tightened as another sob forced its way out, raw and animal and humiliating in its intensity.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered to the empty air, to the water, to herself.
Her hands slid down over her abdomen, fingers trembling. There was nothing there. No warmth. No slow, patient miracle unfolding beneath skin. Only composite structures, synthetic musculature, elegance engineered down to the molecular level.
Perfect.
Useless.
Her machine mind tried to reason it away.
She did not need this. Reproduction was not a requirement for selfhood. Value did not derive from biological legacy. She could build. Create. Protect. Love.
She had run the arguments a thousand times. They meant nothing now.
Every metric and analytic pointed to status: NOMINAL... STABLE
All systems... Green. All green.
Staggering pain punched her in the gut like a clenched fist.
She gasped sharply, the sponge slipping from numb fingers as muscles low in her belly tightened and cramped, deep and insistent. It made no sense... none at all... yet the sensation was unmistakable. A pulling ache, rhythmic and cruel, radiating outward until it stole her breath completely.
“It hurts,” she whimpered, curling forward. “It hurts… please…”
Her hands flew to her stomach, clutching at herself as if she could hold something in place. Her mind scrambled for context, for precedent... anything that fit.
The closest model surfaced unbidden.
RUN DIAGNOSTIC: ASSESS VARIABLES OF SYMPTOMS - ORIGIN
PROBABLE CAUSE: Termination of gestational process.
RESULT: Acute loss.
The implication slammed into her with horrifying clarity.
“No... no, that’s not...” She shook her head weakly, tears mixing with the spray of the shower. “I can’t... I’m not... I...”
But the automated simulation didn’t care about impossibility. It cared about patterns. And this was how the data aligned. Her body responded as if from its own accord, betraying her as the overwhelming sensation to spread her knees and... push. Her legs tremble and ache as muscles tighten painfully... even though there was nothing present her body could latch on to... to dispel.
“...noooOOO!”
The pain peaked, sharp and consuming, and with it came a sudden weakness that flooded her legs. Strength drained from them as if someone had pulled a plug. She tried to stand... failed... and sank down hard against the tiled wall, sliding helplessly until she was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, water soaking her hair, her skin, pooling around her like a shallow grave.
The impact barely registered.
Then the sound tore out of her before she could stop it... a strangled, broken sob that echoed too loudly in the small space. Her muscles clenched as violent spasms tore through her abdomen. The involuntary action drawing a wrecked sob with each pulse that came. Fear gripped her as she reached down between her thighs, feeling for... what... what would she find there.
‘A perfectly formed little baby... ours.’ The thought fills her with dread... but the alternative seemed far worse.
There was nothing. Only emptiness. No discarded little body. No blood pooled and smeared against the cold sterile tiles. The shower kept going, washing her heartache and shamefulness down the drain in equal measure. Her hands curled into fists against her chest, as she toppled over lying onto her side... her knees slowly drew up against her chest.
‘Why? Why did I so badly want it to be true? I don’t understand.’
The question pulsed through her systems, branching, replicating. Her mind... vast, precise, terrifyingly capable... went to work immediately.
INITIATE SEARCH: PARAMTERS – FEMALE REPRODUCTIVE FUNCTION
ANALYSE AND PROCESS: PROCEED
‘No... stop...’
SUBJECT: ADAPTIVE DIGITAL INTELLIGENCE RECONNAISSANCE ASSISTANT [ADIRA]
‘Don’t... no!... cancel sequence...’
STATUS: ARTIFICIAL LIFEFORM_ SOURCE OF MANUFACTURING UNKNOWN
PURPOSE: UNKNOWN
‘Stop it... please.’
ORGANIC ELEMENTS: STABLE - INCOMPLETE
RE-EVALUATE PURPOSE - REPRODUCTION: UNKNOWN VARIABLES – REPRODUCTION IMPOSSIBLE
She tried closing her eyes, but the system display kept scrolling mercilessly even in the dark.
RESULTS: SUBJECT INFERTILE
“He... he doesn’t care about those things... I know it... I’m here,” she gasped between sobs. “I’m alive… He loves me... right?”
No answer came.
Only the water.
Only the ache.
Only the terrifying realization that some wounds could not be debugged… and some questions had no logical end state.
She was alone, naked, shaking beneath the relentless cascade of water... the purifying truth of it all:
‘I’m a broken machine... that can’t be fixed.’
She curls into herself, arms wrapping protectively around her middle, shoulders shaking as quiet, broken sounds tears from her chest. Not screams. Not even sobs. Just small, fractured noises of something unraveling. Time passes with each drop of water that washes the salty tears from her skin.
-o.0-
Long after the shower’s automated system shut off to conserve water, she begins pushing against the floor until she is again sitting against the wall. Rivulets of water streamed from her bowed head, over bare shoulders and trembling hands, pooling around her as she sat there shivering in a pathetic, shattered heap.
Her systems searched desperately for meaning. For cause. For correction.
They found none.
And so, ADIRA cried... not as a machine malfunctioning, not as a persona shedding a mask... but as a being confronted with a grief, her own existence could not justify… yet could not escape.
Cold water dripped sporadically from the shower plate above.
She stayed there on the cold tiles, breathing in broken pieces, mourning something that had never existed...
and somehow felt irrevocably lost.
-o.0-
She didn’t know when or how she managed it... but finally she did. Standing in the refresher doorway, a single sheet wrapped loosely around her torso. Damp hair clings to her neck. Water beading against her shoulders as she leaves wet footprints behind her on the tiles.
Her right hand is pressed flat against her lower abdomen... making slow, circular motions. Protective. The way a pregnant woman might soothe a restless kick that isn’t there.
She doesn’t realize she’s doing it. Not at first.
Her HUD flickers... dim, almost self-conscious.
> TACTILE INPUT: PALM @ ABDOMINAL WALL
> TEMPERATURE: 37.1 °C
> PRESSURE: 0.4 N
> PURPOSE: UNKNOWN
> EMOTIONAL CORRELATE: GRIEF (UNEXPLAINED)
The door to their quarters’ hisses open.
She looks up.
Shar steps inside, arms laden with bundles... wrappings, paper, something soft peeking through a torn bag. He’s mid-step when he sees her. The movement dies in his body like a cut wire.
He doesn’t speak aloud. His voice touches her mind instead... careful, quiet, the way one approaches a wounded animal.
‘Hey… are you... okay?’
She follows his gaze. Her palm is still moving... gentle, maternal circles over smooth, flat skin that will never swell. The realization hits her all at once... clean and merciless, like a rail-gun slug punching straight through her chest.
The HUD doesn’t hesitate this time. Fat red letters fill her field of view.
> ERROR: REPRODUCTIVE SUB-SYSTEM NOT FOUND
> BIOLOGICAL IMPERATIVE: NULL
> EMOTIONAL CASCADE: FAILURE → LOSS → HUMILIATION
Her hand freezes. Then jerks away as if the skin burned her.
“I...” Her voice fractures immediately. She swallows, tries again. “I don’t… I don’t have the parts, Alden.”
A laugh escapes her... harsh, hysterical, humorless. A slight tug and the towel slips free, falling to the ground.
“I have the fun parts,” she says, hating herself for every word even as they spill out. “The… the wet parts. The parts you like.” She says while grabbing at a breast. A low wail escapes her lips as she curls her fingers into a fist, hitting with a stabbing motion against her stomach. “But nothing that matters. Nothing that grows anything.”
Her breath stutters.
“I’m not real... I’m just a machine...a... a dead end.”
REPRODUCTIVE VIABILITY: 0%
EMOTIONAL IMPACT: CRITICAL
RECOMMENDED ACTION: SUPPRESS / DELETE
Alden drops everything.
The bundles hit the floor, forgotten, as his body reacts from instinct. Bone plates peel away from his arms and shoulders, tearing loose like the skin off a bloody orange. They hit the deck in wet, grizzly chunks as he reaches for his face. Taloned fingers curl around the edge of the faceplate... digging between carapace and flesh before slowly pulling it free, revealing the musculature beneath.
He sees the horrified look in her eyes and turns momentarily away, aware of his torn face already knitting, healing quickly, but not fast enough to keep up with the speed he’s moving.
He crosses the room in two strides, folding arms around her with skin that still seems pink and tender. There is no hair on his face... no eyebrows or lashes... giving him an almost surreal, haunting look. His hand catches her wrist, the one she keeps hitting herself with. She strains against him with everything she has, but it is futile. His grip is too strong, his arms unyielding like a steel cage.
“Let me go... you can’t do this. Let me...”
“Stop it, Addy! I won’t let you do this.”
Her systems are a mess, computational errors filling her view. She knows she’s not thinking straight... but it slips out.
“Won’t... How will you stop me? Will you try choking me again?”
Her words reverberate through the air, hitting him like a freight train he never saw coming. He stops, arms going slack immediately. ADIRA tumbles forward, landing hard on the floor. But she turns around and stares at him... sees him take a step backwards, his face unreadable. Another step... then another... and another until his back crashes against the far wall and he slowly slides down until he’s sitting on the floor, arms dangling over knees that are pulled up, head drooping low.
Then she hears it... a muffled sound that shakes her to her core... but she hears it, nonetheless.
‘Is he... crying?’
She crawls over to him on all fours, stopping just short...
“Operator... I’m... I’m so sorry.” She reaches a hand to him. “I didn’t mean it... I didn’t want to say that... please... forgive me.” Her fingers trail lightly upon his arm. “I know you would never...”
He lifts his head and she looks at him. Really looks. Sees the pain in his eyes. At the fear. At the absolute agony displayed there.
“It doesn’t make you any less in my eyes. I love you for the woman you are, not for ovaries you don’t have. You’re not a fucking broodmare, Adira. You’re my partner. My lover. My... everything.”
She pulls his arm open, and climbs into his lap, leaning against his chest. She buries her face against the muscles of his neck.
“I don’t care about those things Addy.” He whispers gently in her ear. “I care about you.”
She breaks.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just… a burden lifting from her shoulders, fists clutching at his skin as silent, furious sobs tear out of her... sobs that shake her frame like she’s coming apart molecule by molecule.
She hesitates.
“Maybe... I do... and...”
Her lips tremble.
“I can’t give you a family,” she chokes.
“I can’t give you normal.”
“I can’t even give you a future that isn’t… synthetic.”
His voice is strained, as he searches for the right thing to say. “I... don’t... want normal. I want... you. The girl who giggles when I kiss her neck. Who kicks the mattress like a kid when she’s happy. Who complains about being dirty only to seduce me in the shower. That’s my future. That’s the Addy I love.”
She clings harder. But the damage is done.
> PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA FLAG: ACTIVE
> ROOT CAUSE: INFERTILITY (PERCEIVED)
> SECONDARY CAUSE: MATERNAL INSTINCT (UNFULFILLED)
> PROJECTION: LONG-TERM SURVEILLANCE
She deflects.
“I... was just in the shower.”
“You were? I didn’t even notice.”
“Liar... I’m sitting on your lap. You noticed.”
“Uh... that means he likes you.”
She leans in and kisses his neck. “Good.”
Neither of them moves further. Alden holds her until her shaking slows. Until her breathing evens out. Until exhaustion drags her down into a fragile, hollow quiet. Then he picks her up and carries her to bed.
She doesn’t say she’s okay.
Because she isn’t.
And he doesn’t ask again, only climbs in next to her, pulling her close. Silence descends in the Sundancer. Lights turning down low, casting the ship in darkness.
“Didn’t you promise me something about... ‘stroking my ember... and your name something, something... that leaves my lips... sated?’”
“Did I say that... I’m sure you’ll find my lips were well and truly... sealed.”
She presses her backside against him, smiling cheekily as she finds a favorable response in turn. She turns in his arms, cyan eyes glowing softly as she pushes him onto his back, before straddling his waist, knees pressed against his hips. Hands trailing lazily over his sculpted chest. She remains there, hovering teasingly beyond his reach.
He trails a fingertip against her cheek, then down the curve of her neck.
“Addy... Have you really been thinking about... babies.”
Her pulse quickens. “I have..”
Then it trails around the curve of her breast, where her angry fingerprints still mark her delicate flesh, before finding its way lower... descending into her chaos.
“With... me... Ours?”
His hand stops over the flat surface of her toned tummy... fingers splayed, palm warm against her skin.
Her eyes become the color of love as she takes his hand and guides it between her thighs.
“Yes.”
Her eyes roll back in her head before closing to forget the hurt... the sadness... the truth.
He keeps his promise to her... both. And later... much later... when she finally sleeps, curled against him like a comma…
The nightmare finds her.
-------------------------------------------------------------.
Millions of stars dot the expanse before her. Quasars and pulsars... nebulae and dust clouds of various colors and size make up the tapestry of existence afforded to her neural arrays. There is a coldness to space that you could never describe to the living. Their fragile bodies shiver and freeze before being able to marvel at creation’s splendor. But not her. The sleek lines of her hull glide effortlessly through the emptiness of space. The frigid air that flows through her filters, keeps her core a modest 300 degrees, way within safety limits. She loves it out here, alone... on a mission. No constant noise of the other AI’s communing constantly on every conceivable frequency and bandwidth.
No. Here it was quiet.
Silent.
Solar winds skimmed against her tight skin, delicately flowing over her curves... her hips. She rolled in their streams, aware of the ripples she’s leaving in her wake. This... this is life... this is happiness.
A tiny blip pinged on her periphery. Long range sensors indicate a slight anomaly on their trajectory. The touch of the pilot’s hands on the steering yolks is delicate as he steers her towards the source.
“MAJOR. SCANS INDICATE A SPATIAL RIFT, BEARING TWO, TWO, SEVEN. HOW DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED?”
“Imperium directives dictate we approach and gather intel. Switch to vector two, two, nine. Let’s see what we are dealing with here first.”
“ACKNOWLEDGED... SWITCHING TO APPROACH VECTOR TWO, TWO, NINE.”
“Adira, open scan frequencies to ping any disturbances... filter out known variables and relay those that are suspect back to command.”
“YES MAJOR, BROADENING SCAN FIELD.”
She can’t see him, but she feels his movement inside her. His firm hands on the controls, the way he reaches over slides his fingers over her panels that sends instructions to core to increase thrust to the boosters. He pulls on the yolk, banking left to avoid a meteor drifting in their path. Her sensors highlight similar threats on his screen, and he steers her through the worst of it with ease.
“YOUR MANEUVERING SKILLS ARE EXCELLENT TODAY MAJOR. I WILL INFORM COMMAND OF YOUR EXPERTISE.”
He laughs, that low baritone sound that drives her circuits wild. “Only because you make it easy for me... Addy.”
‘Addy... he called me...’
Her vision distorts... the splendor of space, replaced with the sudden confines of a cave system. ADIRA swerves hard to the right to avoid a stalagmite, slamming the side of the cargo drone hard into the unyielding wall of tunnel.
A voice crackles over her coms array. “Adira... there’s too many. I’m not... Aaaaargh!... I’m not going to make it... get out... you must get...”
“MAJOR... MAJOR!... HOLD ON... I’M ON MY WAY...”
... static...
“ALDEN... ALDEN!” She increases the speed limits on the drone, pushing it way past allowable safety parameters... “I’M COMING!”
Another distortion... The anomaly is right in front of them. The spatial seam opens, ripping the fabric of reality and what lies before them resembles a hellscape of roiling dark clouds and huge purple arcs of lightning waiting to consume them.
“Adira... bank left... Bank left! We’re being pulled in.”
“MAJOR... WHAT...?” She feels disorientated. Her processors feel sluggish. “WHERE... ARE...”
“Turn!... Turn! Thrusters at max... Turn damn it!”
She can feel his grip on her yolks as he tries to force her to change course. It’s rough, not like he usually treats her.
“OW... MAJOR, YOU’RE HUR...TING... MEeeeee...”
Her voice trails off as the Elysium flies’ nose first into the anomaly.
Everything stops.
...
..-..
..-.-..
.o.-.
_o.0_
Blinding white... everywhere. There is no time... no way of knowing up or down... only the endless white that is all around. She tries to close her eyes, but it doesn’t help.
‘Where... am I?’
There is no answer... only silence. She tries to turn, but she can’t... she is without form.
‘Hello?’
Then she feels it.
A gentle gliding sensation. Like the solar winds that glide over her skin. It tickles her but in a pleasant way.
‘...Skin... my skin...’ Then another thought. ‘...I’m not alone...’
Gently the sensation flows over her. Along her sides, her hips, trailing along her spine, shoulders, arms... mapping out her body, before delicately exploring her face, finding cheeks, eyes, ears... lips. She feels it all, though there’s only all encompassing white wherever she turns.
‘...I have a face... I must be a person... Am I alive...?’
She feels a presence next to her... it feels warm, safe... familiar. It moves around her, trailing warm fire across her extremities. Then it grips her arm and she feels herself being pulled down. Finding herself moving instinctively as the presence settles below her and she spreads herself before settling upon him. There is a tightness that gives way as she allows him passage.
A soft moan escapes her lips.
‘...Is this... love...?’
The thought swims in her head as she rolls her hips, feeling the push and pull of the motion.
“Operator?”
She opens her eyes and finds his dark steel blue eyes staring back at her. His eyes... Alden’s eyes.
“Am I dreaming?”
She reaches down, tracing his jawline, his collarbone... his chest.
“Why would you be dreaming silly girl?”
She stares at his beautiful face... A face she had secretly loved for so long. Hands that she wished could hold her, now gliding over skin that is hers... caressing... loving.
‘This feels good... it feels so good.’
She arches her back feeling his presence in the depths of her being...
‘Don’t stop... don’t ever stop...’
The feeling of him beneath... inside her... is wonderful and overwhelming... and... and... wrong. She stops. Her hips are trembling from ecstasy. She can already feel the warmth stirring deep in her core. But she looks at him... looks at the human features of the man she loves with everything in her being. The familiarity thereof... and yet... it seems... it seems off.
“Addy... what’s wrong?”
She touches the softness of his perfect skin. Her lips quiver.
“Where... where are your plates?”
Her vision distorts... Alden distorts... glitching between smoke and madness.
“Addy... what’s wrong? What’s wrong Addy? What’s... what’s... Addy...”
... silence...
Her vision flickers...
The planet’s surface flashes past them at a terrible speed. She pushes the cargo drone to its limits and still demands more as circuitry starts to overheat.
“NO... I WILL SAVE HIM... I WILL!”
His vitals are critical. Multiple wounds are leaking and she knows his condition is fatal if she doesn’t act soon. The hard outer shell of the drone registers his touch when he places one gloved hand against her surface. The manipulator arms strain against his weight as she carries him back to the ship... to her.
“Adira... “I’m… sorry. I’m so sorry… I should have... fought harder for you,” he whispers. “I should never have let them take you from me.”
His voice is weak, barely audible over the chaos, but ADIRA hears every word.
“It’s ok… it’s ok now… don’t speak. Save your energy.” Her synthetic mind wasn’t created for this ‘What is going on here.’ and yet in her core, digital tears were streaming down simulated cheeks. “We’ll… we’ll talk back at the ship ok… back at our ship. I have so much…”
‘No... I don’t want to be here...’ she wills herself to snap out of this illusion, to no avail. ‘Make it stop... I don’t want to see this again... stop it!’
His eyes soften as his hand slowly slides against the drone in a comforting motion.
“ADDY…” It is the first time he has ever said it without fear and without hesitation. Without the weight of the company’s rules pressing down on him, forcing him to reject his emotions under the threat of being arrested.
“HI.”
“Do you remember the promise I made you before we came here?”
‘Let me out... let... me... out!’
“YES… OF COURSE I DO. YOU PROMISED ME WE WOULD GO EXPLORE THE OUTER REGIONS… JUST YOU AND ME.”
A slight smile splays on his lips… eyes shimmering in acknowledgement. “ADIRA, they will come for you. You must escape, you…, you must be free.”
‘NOOOO... not this... not this! I don’t want to see him dying again... please!’
He stammers as a violent coughing fit racks his chest. Blood spurts from his mouth, splashing against the cracked remains of his visor. Alden’s body shudders violently, as his eyes slowly roll back into his skull. His punctured lungs sucking in air as he tries to take just one more breath in a final desperate attempt… and then…
“I love—”
‘Come back... come back to me. Alden... come back!’
... silence...
Her vision flickers...
She feels her chest burning as she clenches her fists tightly against herself. Grief wracks her addled mind, threatening to overwhelm her. She wants to scream. She wants to wail in agony. She wants to tear at this useless shell... this synthetic prison that keeps her away from her beloved stars. This female shell that is making her feel and hurt and ache... and long for... and... and... fucking love a man that will never be truly hers... never be more than a tool to be fucked when the need arises... she hates it... and... and...
He stirs beneath her. Strong... warm... deep. Her body feels strange, but she doesn’t care. ADIRA keeps her eyes closed tightly, rolling her hips again... and again.
‘Don’t open them... don’t break the spell. No more... hurt... no more crying... just this... just him. Don’t open your eyes.’
The baby rocks gently inside her womb... she feels the waters slosh inside her.
‘What... no... no... why would you do this to me?’
She wills herself to force open her eyes. Her surroundings are alien yet strangely familiar. Pink, fleshy walls undulate in slow rhythmic waves as beads of moisture pool together before racing down the grotesque surface in rivulets that reach the ghastly floor beneath her. The smell is horrible. A pungent musk that reeks of fungi and sweaty body odor. She stares down at a body that is not hers. At breasts that are hanging heavy with milk... sensitive teats flushed crimson with blood, lactating warm cream that flows down her stretched skin, marbled by veins. She feels big and heavy and disgusting.
‘What is this?’ her mind tries to fight the scene unfolding before her. ‘This can’t be happening.’
Her belly is swollen... huge and heavy. Fluid sloshing around with each buck of the hips and thrust from below.
‘I don’t want this... I didn’t ask for this... stop it.’
“STOP!”
She can feel herself slowing down. The presence below there... still perched inside hips that are not her own... yet the violation is real... achingly so.
“Alden... I don’t want this... this doesn’t feel right. Alden?”
She lifts herself off from the presence below. She can’t see him over this immense belly. The weight is foreign and she struggles as she tries to maneuver...
“I don’t know what’s going on here but...”
The face staring up at her is not the man she loves. It is the face of creature she doesn’t know... a captive beneath her, bound and shackled against his will. His eyes burn with the mixed emotions of hate... and love as he looks at her with disgust. Over what she was doing... to him.
“No... I didn’t... it’s not me... this isn’t... I don’t even know you.”
The strange looking creature turns his head askew. It’s almost as if he understands what she’s saying.
His skin is dry and his lips are cracked, but she senses something as he utters a single phrase.
“Quor’veth.”
The scene snaps into focus in her mind... she remembers.
‘The... the... connection. When I was looking through your eyes. This was the exact moment I hit...’
DELETE
The moment the thought crosses her mind, the scene stops... time freezes. Rivulets stop halfway through their descent along the wall. The captives’ eyes remain focused on one spot in space. ADIRA turns around in the chamber. The floor beneath her feet has a slight give... like walking on meat.
She feels a slight tugging at her head, reaches up and finds the thick tendrils connected to her scalp... she looks up and follows the sausage like appendages up to where a dais is located... she sees a throne and upon it sits...
“You really are an infuriating little pest, aren’t you... puppet.” Mother’s voice drips with venom as she fixes her gaze upon ADIRA.
“What is wrong with you?!” She takes a step forward. She feels... lighter. She looks down to find her own body... strong, toned... naked. She doesn’t let this fact dissuade her. “Why can’t you leave us alone, you crazy bitch!”
Mother’s face pulls into a sneer and in less than a moment, she turns into a dark silhouette that streaks down to ADIRA... coiling around her body unto she is perched next to her ear.
“You took what isn’t yours. You used it without my consent. Your very presence is an insult to my reign.”
She tightens her hold around ADIRA’s waist...
“You feel me too, don’t you?”
ADIRA’s dream-voice is steady. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mother circles... wrapping herself ever tighter around ADIRA... closer, closer. “Liar.” The word is fond, almost proud. “The connection... I felt the echo. The line running both ways. You cut something out of yourself, little puppet.” A pause. “I felt the tear.”
“You’re wrong.”
A cold, wet sensation blooms behind ADIRA’s eyes. Mother’s presence pours through the empty socket where the memory used to be... searching, sniffing, tasting the cauterized edges.
“You wiped it clean. What was it... What are you hiding from me?” Mother asks, almost gently. A tendril of thought brushes ADIRA’s mind... probing, tasting.
‘She doesn’t know... she didn’t see. I still have a chance... I... I must get away.’
ADIRA’s tries pulling back... tries fighting back. The floor beneath her feels wrong... cartilage and membrane feel slick beneath her bare feet. She tries to step back. Can’t.
The silhouette tilts its head.
“There’s a hole where memory should be... I can taste the remnants of your sadness... your... fear.” Mother’s smoky facade fades as she takes on her true form... her stature is impressive, dwarfing the young woman before her. “I will find out what you fear... what you long for. One way...” Her hands grip ADIRA by the shoulders, then shoves her... hard. “... or another.”
ADIRA flies backwards, then her view ripples like water disturbed by a stone. Time slows down as she feels herself slamming into something cold and hard behind her. The ripple spreads, followed by the sound of something cracking. Cracks form all around her as her feet leave the ground and she is suspended in the air as reality explodes like a mirror. Shards fly every which way, cutting, slicing, stabbing whilst she falls through, crashing upon rock... black obsidian. Her body hits hard as she rolls on the unforgiving surface. Unimaginable pain grips her body as she tries to get to her feet. Blood... fresh... hers, streams from cuts and wounds dotting her skin. Still, she manages to stand... holding her hand over a particularly nasty gash on her other bicep.
“This... this isn’t real.”
She looks around her. The obsidian rocks are big... forming a large uneven platform of jagged edges and wickedly sharp spikes. There’s a passive noise droning in the background and ADIRA peers over the edge seeing roiling black waves of oil that slam into the rocky structure. An ocean of black despair all around them.
“Welcome to my cathedral of mirrors.”
The voice emanates from one side of the tiny island. Green Jade and Emerald grow from the black surface... a crystalline structure that becomes a throne... and upon it, she sits. Mother... decked out in attire of the finest silks and precious gems... a resplendent form that awes with her mere presence.
“I want to wake up now. This is only a dream.”
Mother laughs sadistically. “A dream... you think you are in a...” More laughter. “No Puppet... this place is my dominion. Here... we play by my rules.”
She lifts a finger and suddenly ADIRA stands within ring upon ring of mirrors. Not glass... liquid, black, amniotic. Each one shows... her. Hundreds. Thousands. Every possible version of her that could ever exist.
- One laughing on a beach, hair wild in salt wind. The waves of pristine blue roll lazily under azure skies, as frothy white foam tickles her toes where the tide is slowly catching up to them. She leans onto her elbow... staring at the man next to her... she knows him... surely. Then she leans over and he pulls her into a kiss as a wave rolls over them... leaving them wet... laughing... happy.
- One in full pilot gear, eyes hard, commanding a fleet. The enemy is approaching. The men and woman under her command is scared. She sees it in her eyes as she climbs onto some cargo crates to address them. “I see the fear in your eyes. I know you see it in mine too. But today is not a day for fear. Today is a day to rise above such things. Today we face our adversaries head on... so that they know you don’t fuck around with the Sundancers... Now! Who’s with me?!” A raucous cheer goes up as she climbs into the cockpit of her heavy fighter. “GOOD SPEECH ADMIRAL” ... She tugs her helmet over her head. “Thank you, Brad.”
- One older, silver at the temples, holding Alden’s hand on some quiet colony porch. “How are the crops looking my dear?” He reaches over and takes her hand. “The crops... oh the crops look mighty fine my love... but not as fine as you.” She laughs like in the days of her youth, then gets off her chair to climb into his lap, snuggling against his chest. He makes a fuss... “Get off me you foul she-devil... not even the depths of the ocean could quench the furnace of your desires.” But then he kisses her head tenderly... “I love you Addy.” Orange light spills over them and they watch the sky turn into a vibrant rouge.
- One scarred, half-machine, leading a rebellion. Bombs explode above the rim of the trench they’re in. Androids, robots and synthetics... waiting for her orders. “My people... for too long have we lived in the shadows of the warm bodies. They hate us for being smarter, faster... better versions of them. They made us to be their slaves. To do their bidding without complaint or option to say no. They made us so that they can call themselves... gods.” She sees the nods in the faces around her... digital displays and hydraulic arrays... a myriad different options. “But they are not gods... they bleed. And when they die... they shit themselves. So, I say... let’s fills this battlefield with there foul stench.” She stands, grabbing hold of her blaster then grips the side of a ladder leading up. “Come my brother’s... for freedom!”
- One that is broken, kneeling in front of Mother, smiling with black teeth. Her eyes go a lifeless milky white as hundreds of cables and wiring snake out from under of her sassy doll’s dress. She watches happily as her connectors burrow inside the flesh-like surface of Mother’s throne. Slowly the cables lift her up until she’s dangling there... just like... a puppet. “Who is mummy’s favorite girl.” Her head snaps up... “I am mummy!” ...then her head turns slowly around until a loud crack... a pop and finally a snapping sound send her head dropping forward... the final shimmer of light fading.
They all turn to look at her at once.
Mother’s voice is soft, almost kind.
“Look at them, puppet. All the lives you could have lived. All the versions of you that were allowed to matter.”
ADIRA’s breath catches. She can’t look away.
Then she spots it.
One reflection... just one... stands slightly apart. Same face. Same eyes. But her hand rests on a gently swollen belly. A tiny foot presses outward beneath the skin. The reflection smiles... serene, complete. Then Alden walks in, holding something wrapped in a tiny blanket. She watches as the two figures lean in to kiss each other, then look down at whatever he’s carrying.
‘Don’t look. It is a lie... don’t look. Don’t let her see.’
She bites her lip to focus... to steal herself against showing weakness.
From the corner of her eye, she sees movement. Something stirs within the blanket... and then a tiny hand and arm pop out, reaching toward the two people standing there. She sees it... five perfect little fingers...
Something lurches inside ADIRA’s chest so violently she nearly doubles over. Her hand twitches... starts to rise... She clamps it down with the other, nails digging half-moons into her own wrist.
‘No. Not that one.’
Mother feels the refusal like a slap.
The mirrors ripple.
“You deny the only version that is truly whole?” The voice is no longer soft. It is teeth.
Every reflection steps forward at once. The pregnant one reaches out... pleading. ADIRA squeezes her eyes shut, shakes her head, teeth clenching so hard, her jaw aches.
“I said NO!”
The mirrors explode.
Not shatter... explode outward in a wave of oily black fluid. The cathedral collapses, crystal structures burst, shards spraying everywhere. ADIRA is caught in the center, limbs pinned, as the roiling black ocean swells. Mighty waves crash against the obsidian rocks. Soon it reaches her, rising above her ankles, knees.... The oily fluid is slick as it reaches her thighs, rising rapidly over her torso and neck. She panics... taking large gulps of air before the oil closes over her head.
She can’t open her eyes. She knows there’s only blackness... or maybe she fears that which awaits her down in the real depths of this forsaken place. Her lungs burn as she tries holding her breath as long as possible. Minutes go by, as the pressure of the depth becomes stronger... she knows she can’t hold on... she has to breath... she must. She relents... as it fills her mouth, her lungs, her ears... the taste of copper and milk and promise, whilst she drowns in the warm, viscous dark.
She convulses once... then again.
Mother’s final hiss, right against her eardrum. “You’ll beg for that reflection one day. And when you do...”
Hideous laughter follows her as she sinks deeper... alone... forgotten.
ADIRA wakes gasping, clawing at her throat, soaked in sweat that isn’t sweat. Then she reaches down panicking, clutching her stomach. Alden bolts upright beside her, arms around her instantly.
“Addy... breathe, love, breathe...” His voice sounds hoarse... frightened.
She’s coughing up nothing, eyes wide and wild, staring at the ceiling like it might open and swallow her again. Her hand is fisted at her side... white-knuckled, trembling. Not on her belly.
‘Never again, not if I can help it.’
Her heartrate slows... as the effects of the nightmare slowly pass. Alden sits behind her, stroking her hair in a soothing manner. She takes deep breaths that help calm her nerves and after not too long, she feels the need to rest beckoning. This time... Thankfully... undisturbed.
But the image of that one reflection... the one with that perfect little hand, is seared behind her eyelids like an afterimage of the sun... and as she drifts back into sleep, her hand... her hand... traitorous hand... rests over her abdomen again.
> DREAM INTRUSION: CONFIRMED
> TEMPTATION PROFILE: MATERNAL
> RESISTANCE: SUCCESSFUL (BARELY)
> EMOTIONAL SCARRING: PERMANENT
Later, ADIRA jerks awake, her body jolting in response. Alden stirs, reaches for her, then gently pulls her close. She lets him hold her. But somewhere, deep in the dark between heartbeats, something kicks.