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Eon stood silently beside Tristan, his keen senses picking up on the unease that lingered in the air. The soldiers behind them, the tension palpable, only added to the weight of the moment. He could see the subtle shift in Tristan's posture, the cracking of his facade. Eon, ever observant, didn’t need to say much, but now was not the time for hesitation. "We need to return to the Starseeker," Eon said, his voice calm and unwavering, cutting through the wind. "The signal’s still out there. If Neoma’s where the device says she is, we’re wasting time standing here." His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the horizon, his mind already calculating their next move. "We follow the signal. No more distractions." He met Tristan’s gaze with an unspoken understanding—the danger was closing in, and they couldn't afford to wait any longer. |
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Neoma's eyes flickered to Quixor, her gaze unwavering, despite the unease stirring within her. The air around them felt thick, charged—like the moment before a storm. He was too close, his proximity almost suffocating. She could feel his words pressing into her chest, each one like a hammer against her resolve. She tilted her head slightly, letting her hair fall in a wave, partially obscuring her eyes as she smiled, a smile that was more ice than warmth. "What was I doing?" she repeated, the edges of her voice smooth, but laced with a subtle mockery. "You know I don't do things without a reason. But if you want me to spell it out for you... maybe you should try harder. You're not the only one who knows how to keep secrets, old man who I don't know your name." "Why don't you stop playing your little game?" Neoma's voice dropped, sharp and cold. "And tell me, what exactly do you think I was doing on that planet?" Her lips curled slightly, almost teasing. "Maybe you should answer your own question first." |
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Quixor
Quixor felt a faint smile play across his lips. "Your very mature for your age" He said, a slight humour to his voice, that game was still be played. "I think you should pay attention young one, because depending on how you answer me, will assure your future on my vessel" His smile dropped, his tone now laced with boredom. "Oh and one last thing, don't make repeat myself" He said his eyes flashing with malice. "I know what you are or what you carry. I want it" He said short and sharp, the blue ring almost lighting up a the tone in his eyes. The AI chip embedded in his head playing out every scenario here. "So when I ask you what were you doing down on Alpha-7, I expect you to tell me" He said. Tristan
Tristan nodded and followed the doctor back to the vessel, a small sense of relief washed over him as they boarded. They hadn't managed to capture anyone but Neoma's disappearance was still a mystery. He found the confidence to remain stoic, unchanged in the ever growing reality that his life would be on the line if the doctor didn't find Neoma soon. |
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Neoma stood her ground, the weight of the two Nexus shards heavy against her body. One pressed against her chest, just beneath her clothes, the other concealed on her wrist. The pulsing of the shards echoed in her chest, a constant reminder of how fragile her existence was. She could feel Quixor’s gaze on her, sharp and predatory, but she didn’t flinch. “I’m not giving it to you,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady for a ten-year-old facing a man like Quixor. There was no tremor in her words, even as she could feel the Nexus thrumming within her—alive, almost sentient, as if it recognized the danger too. Her hand moved instinctively to her chest, pressing against the shard near her heart. She could almost feel the energy of the Nexus rippling under her skin, responding to the threat. But she refused to let him see her fear. Not now. Not ever. Air grew thick, and though she was small, she was determined not to let him see her weakness. Quixor, a man of power and malice, was no match for her resolve. Not yet, anyway. She took a breath, her voice dropping to a lower, more defiant tone. “I won’t tell you. What happened on Alpha-7? I don’t owe you anything. Not an answer, nothing.” Her heart pounded in her chest, but she held her ground, refusing to show fear. She might be only ten, but she understood the value of the Nexus, and what would happen if Quixor succeeded in taking it. She would die, and that was something she would never allow. |
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Quixor
Quixor's smile fell into a grimace as he eyed Neoma. He sighed and turned, leaving the cell. He turned once the energy to her cell was secure in not letting her out. "If you want to behave this way, you can stay in here" He paused looking at Neoma for a response. "Or... You can give me the shards and I'll let you out." He studied the weight of Neoma's gaze assessing. He knew what her response would be. |
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EON Eon noticed the subtle shift in Tristan’s demeanor as they boarded the vessel. The stoic front was still there, but it was thinner now, fraying at the edges, and Eon couldn’t help but wonder if the weight of the situation was beginning to catch up to him. He focused on his task, but his mind couldn’t entirely shake the thought that time was running out. Neoma’s disappearance was no mere mystery—it was a glaring hole in the fabric of everything they’d been working toward. The growing tension between them was palpable, even if Tristan did his best to hide it. Eon had always been driven by logic, by reason, but even he couldn’t ignore the gnawing sense of urgency. The pressure to find Neoma, to piece together what had happened before it was too late, tightened around his chest like a vise. He’d seen the look in Tristan’s eyes earlier—the quiet fear masked by an unwavering facade. Eon knew what that felt like. But fear was a luxury. They couldn’t afford it now. Not with everything on the line. Tristan’s calm was admirable, but Eon was painfully aware that they were both dancing on the edge of something far more dangerous than either of them had fully grasped yet. |
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Neoma's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t flinch. She let him speak, her expression remaining unyielding. His words hung in the air like a challenge, one she wasn’t about to accept without a fight. She tilted her head, leaning back slightly against the cold stone of the cell wall, studying Quixor with an almost bored detachment. Her fingers brushed the edge of her wrist where one of the shards were hidden, a hidden smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Do you really think," she said, her voice smooth and laced with something dangerous, "that I’d trade my freedom for something as worthless as that?" Her eyes met his, and there was a fire in them, a sharpness that didn’t match the calm in her tone. "You know, Old Man," she continued, her lips curling into something almost like pity, "you’ve always underestimated me. You think you can control me with threats, but you forget..." She took a step forward, pressing her palm against the energy field that separated them, the force field humming in response to her proximity. "I don’t need your approval. I never have." Her smile faded then, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze. "But you do need something from me, don’t you?" |
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Quxior
Quixor wasn't ready to take shit from a ten year old. He didn't look back before tossing the words over his shoulder. "Sleep on it" He matched the level of boredom in her tone. He operated the lift with the buttons, the doors sliding open and he disappeared as they closed behind him. He paced in the lift. This was no better of a cage for him that this whole ship was. He threw his fists into the metal. He hated not getting his way. "The lil..." His anger palpable, his fists clenching and unclenching. He tried to quiet his mind, he knew he would win and he would get what he wanted. Eventually. The lift doors opened, he walked back to his quarters, the wide panaromic window now presented a different set of stars, and along side them was another vessel. The sovereign legion insigna plastered on the hull. He sighed at the familiar sight. He closed his door behind him. He dimmed the lights in the room as he ushered the cable out of the ceiling to recharge the ai chip in his head through the port in the back of his neck. Before he plugged himself in, he stripped down to just his trousers, his chest exposed in the slightly chilly room. He flung himself into his green leather chair at his desk. Grabbing the cool cable, flexible to the back of his neck and plugged himself in. He sighed relaxing in his chair, he draped his arms over the sides as usual. He summoned another cable which was his smoking pipe. He took a long deep breath, blowing out the smoke. He sighed, feeling a weightless calm about him. Tristan
Tristan felt the engines restart. The shuttle shook more than usually as the took off as the storm rolled in over the horizon. He watched Eon carefully, not knowing his next move on Neoma's location. He suddenly felt bile rise in his throat as the Starstrider came into view. He felt vulernable like he'd just been captured himself. |
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ROSALINE
The hushed atmosphere of the room was abruptly disrupted when the door slid open with a soft hiss. Rosaline stepped inside, her eyes flicking from the sleek contours of the quarters to the expansive view beyond the window. Then her gaze landed on him—a half-dressed figure, lounging in the green leather chair, a faint plume of smoke curling from his pipe. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and embarrassment. The sight before her was both unexpected and disarming; his bare chest was illuminated by the dim light, glistening slightly as though it had just caught the remnants of starlight. Rosaline crossed her arms in an attempt to compose herself, her cheeks a deeper shade now. She cleared her throat, trying to focus on anything other than the sight of him. “I—I didn’t realize you’d be... so relaxed,” she stammered, her eyes darting away, fixing on the distant stars instead. EON Eon stood rigid, his gaze fixed on the chaotic storm swirling on the horizon. The turbulence of the shuttle was nothing new, but even in the storm's fury, a sense of calm radiated from him—an unnerving stillness in contrast to the storm outside and the turbulence within the shuttle. He could feel Tristan's eyes on him, could sense the hesitation in the air between them, thick with the unspoken question: What now? Eon's jaw tightened as the Starstrider loomed into view, its massive silhouette cutting through the darkening sky like some monstrous beast. He understood the discomfort that gripped Tristan's gut. The ship was a living reminder of the risks ahead—and the control Eon wielded over their fate. "She's out there," Eon said, his voice low and unflinching, as if he were speaking of a distant memory. His eyes flicked to Tristan, sharp and unreadable. "I know where she is." The ship’s engines hummed louder as the shuttle broke through the clouds, rising toward the Starstrider. Eon didn’t flinch at the rising unease that seemed to bleed from Tristan’s every breath. He knew the vulnerability his presence stirred—the uncertainty of how far they could trust one another. How much of a risk they were both willing to take. But what other choice did they have? “We’ll find her,” Eon added, his tone a quiet promise, both for Tristan and for himself. The Starstrider's shadow loomed closer, and Eon allowed the faintest trace of a smile to slip across his lips. Not one of warmth, but of certainty. No matter the storm. No matter the cost. |
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Neoma stood there, staring at the closed lift doors, her fingers still tingling from the sharp sting of the metal bars that had once confined her. She wasn’t sure if she felt fear or relief watching Quixor stomp away. He was angry, she could tell. She’d pushed him, and it was nice to know that she could still do that—get under someone’s skin, even someone as big and dangerous as him. The words he tossed over his shoulder made her lips twitch, almost a smile. “Sleep on it,” he said. Like she could sleep with all the anger bubbling inside her. Her hands gripped the bars tighter, the cool metal biting into her palms. She was supposed to be the one locked up, but he seemed just as trapped as she was. She knew the feeling. She’d been trapped in this place far too long to not understand what it did to people. They all wore it, the cage of frustration, like a second skin. She took a deep breath, pushing back the hot tears threatening to spill, swallowing them with a hard, defiant breath. The ache in her chest felt bigger than her little body, but she refused to let it swallow her whole. Quixor didn’t know it, but his anger gave her strength. If he was going to break, she wasn’t. She just needed to keep her head. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find a way to make him break first. |
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Bright Sunshine with a few High Clouds
