Sins of the Stars

Chapter 3

Back on The Golden, Twallan stirred in his sleep, the faint beeping of an early alarm pulling him from his dreams. He groaned, rolling over to find Aeris's small, warm frame nestled against him. His muscular arms wrapped around her, and she instinctively nuzzled into his chest, her antennae brushing softly against his face as they flicked forward. He smiled, gently brushing them away and opening his eyes.

Every morning felt like a ritual—a moment he never grew tired of. Twallan watched in quiet awe as Aeris's bioluminescent spots gradually grew brighter, pulsing softly with increasing brain activity. Soon, her bright blue eyes fluttered open, and she smiled sleepily at him. The glow across her face and down her neck illuminated the darkness of the room, creating a soft halo of light around her.

"Are you ready to cause some problems, my beautiful supernova?" Twallan murmured, leaning in to brush his nose against hers in a playful gesture. Aeris giggled, stretching out on the bed, her antennae pulsing with excitement.

"I'm more than ready to get off this ship," she replied with a grin, before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. Then, with a teasing flick of her antennae, she rolled out of bed, leaving him to lazily watch as she padded across the room to her sanitation pod.

Twallan admired her as she stepped into the pod, her skin glowing faintly as the vivid blue light washed over her. The sanitation pods were one of the few luxuries aboard The Golden—a high-tech marvel that cleaned skin and hair with precision, scrubbing away the grime that came with life aboard a ship. Aeris stood still, eyes closed, as the light pulsed over her, erasing the dirt and dead cells from her body.

Moments later, she stepped out, her black hair falling sleek and smooth down her back, and gave Twallan a playful wink before rummaging through her drawers for something to wear. She shot a glance at the pile of her usual combat gear—armor, tactical belts, weapons—but Icarus had made it clear: they needed to blend in, dress down, and look like traders, not raiders. Aeris didn't like going without her armor, but she trusted the plan. They wouldn't be on Goerde Station any longer than necessary.

Twallan, on the other hand, didn't bother with the pod. He grabbed some mismatched clothing from a pile on the floor beside the bed, throwing on a plain shirt and pants. He rarely spent time in his own quarters these days—his nights were spent with Aeris, and he'd left a stock of essentials in her room for convenience.

As he dressed, he glanced at his wrist, checking his comm device. He pinged Icarus, ready to confirm the next phase of the plan. No response. Twallan frowned and pinged him again, irritation flickering across his face. Still nothing.

"Where is he?" Aeris asked, stepping into her clothes as she glanced back at Twallan. She already had a feeling.

"Probably hungover in his room. You know how he gets the night before a big deal," Twallan chuckled, slinging an arm around Aeris's shoulder as they left her quarters, heading toward the captain's room.

On the way, Aeris pinged her brother, Aelan. His face appeared on the small screen, though his gaze seemed more focused on something off to the side. His long black hair was pulled into a neat bun, and his perfectly trimmed beard lined his jaw like a sharp border. His expression remained neutral, as it always did—calm, almost detached, with little movement save for the occasional twitch of his fingers as he tapped at some unseen controls in his workspace.

"You got the charges ready, Glowstick?" she asked with a smirk.

Aelan nodded stiffly, his attention shifting slightly toward the screen without quite making eye contact. "Come down, Bug. Dreg is already eyeing them like they are his."