Mars Time: 14:30, March 2, 2295

  Honghuang Administrative Palace, Phoenix District

  The Prefect's office felt smaller with so many bodies crammed into it.

  Sigrun stood near the back wall, her white suitcase at her feet, watching the assembled team sort themselves into loose groups. The room had lacquered wood panels, silk hangings in black and gold, and that enormous desk which projected authority. Holographic displays projected maps of Venus onto the air, amber clouds swirling over terrain that never saw direct sunlight. Supply manifests scrolled across data pads. The air hummed with barely contained energy.

  Dilinur Altai stood behind her desk, black silk robe impeccable despite what must have been hours of preparation. Her raven hair was pulled into its traditional updo, pinned with jade ornaments that caught the light whenever she moved. A steaming cup of dark tea sat within reach, boba pearls visible through the clear glass.

  "Prefect's Associates," she began, her voice cutting through the ambient noise. "Present and accounted."

  Sigrun. Xin with H?kon perched on his shoulder, the little Diabolisk's scales a calm navy blue. Marcus Thorne in his white Covenant uniform, freshly cleaned, his Titanium Shield Bulwark strapped to his back. Jabari Adomako with Oya, his Kinetic Crossbow, slung across his shoulders and Sankofa, his Moonstone Cutlass, sheathed at his hip.

  "Senior Sergeant Shih," Dilinur continued. "Your contingent?"

  Haylen stepped forward, her black greatcoat freshly pressed, her Raiden shock katana hanging at her side. Behind her stood twelve Constables in their fitted black composite armor, faces young but set with determination.

  "Present and ready, Prefect."

  "And Mr. Roach."

  Iron Roach stood alone by the window, a cigarette dangling from his lips despite the prominent NO SMOKING signs. His crimson sunglasses glowed faint red. He didn't acknowledge the summons, just took a long drag and exhaled toward the ceiling.

  "Took some convincing to have him come," Dilinur said, her tone suggesting she'd lost an argument she still resented. "Given the outstanding debts to the Slumbering Mantis, I suppose his mood is... tolerable."

  "You're welcome," Roach said without turning.

  Sigrun counted heads. Twelve, including herself. A small force for what they were attempting.

  "Not seeing any Alliance fancy-pants here," Roach observed, finally turning from the window. "Your doing, Prefect?"

  "Most Alliance personnel do not believe in the Thousand Gods." Dilinur picked up her tea, took a measured sip. "I've let them rest in the dock bay while we complete... certain traditions."

  "Huh." Roach's gaze swept the room, lingering on Sigrun and the others. "But you still brought plenty from the outside."

  "It would be auspicious if our divine sees my Associates in person and blesses our voyage."

  Roach grinned, showing teeth. "You assume she will."

  "I assume that faith and tradition unite us." Dilinur set down her cup. "Even when different."

  Something in that exchange made Sigrun's shoulders tense. She'd lived in Xing Hong for eleven years, long enough to know that some locals took their gods seriously. Long enough to have walked past temples burning incense, to have seen shopkeepers toss divination blocks before opening their doors each morning. But she'd never participated. Never felt the need.

  The Nordic gods hadn't protected Europa when the Fenris Horde came. Why would anyone else's gods do better?

  "The objective," Dilinur continued, touching a control on her desk, "is to locate a Radi-Human designated Ume. Intelligence suggests she is currently held in Jin Syue, Venus's largest Imperium settlement." The holographic display shifted to show the fortress city, its tiered architecture climbing toward amber skies. "Secondary objective: establish contact with the scientist Meiya Ji, if her location can be determined."

  "And…if she's dead? You know, these things happen." Jabari asked. His tone was light, but the question wasn't.

  "Then we retrieve whatever research she left behind." Dilinur's expression didn't change. "The data in that Zephyrium fragment suggested her work could help us understand and potentially defeat Primarch Skarn. That intelligence is worth the voyage regardless of her current state."

  "How long's the trip?" Sigrun asked.

  "Three weeks at standard acceleration." Dilinur closed the display. "Time enough to plan, train, and prepare for whatever we find."

  She straightened, her posture becoming more rigid. Her hand moved to a panel concealed in the wall behind her desk.

  "Follow me. There are protocols to complete before we board."

  "Protocols?" Sigrun raised an eyebrow.

  "We pray to Seed Dumu and toss the divination blocks," Dilinur said. "Only after she blesses our voyage can we proceed."

  Marcus shifted his weight, his shield scraping softly against his back. "One of the Thousand Gods. Imperial domain, if I recall. Suppose it makes sense for the locals." His Yorkshire accent thickened slightly. "Though a faithful of Zori has little to comment on such matters."

  "Your presence is still appreciated, Mr. Thorne."

  The hidden panel slid open, revealing an elevator large enough to accommodate all twelve of them. Dilinur stepped inside first. The others followed, arranging themselves in loose clusters: Haylen and her Constables near the front, the Associates toward the back, Roach claiming a corner where he could lean against the wall.

  "The back door," Jabari observed as the doors closed. "You trust us not to blow your secret by inviting us all in."

  "You're my Associates. I did not go through that much work to distrust you." Dilinur's reflection smiled faintly in the polished metal walls.

  "I did warn the Prefect," Haylen said, her gaze finding Marcus somehow. "But she insisted that having you participate in the divination is... safe."

  "Religious matters, Sergeant." Dilinur ran a hand along her pinned-up hair. "Surely you understand."

  "I understand protocol." Haylen's voice carried that distinct British inflection common to Venusian colonial settlements. "I question the wisdom of bringing so many outsiders. People who do not understand the Dao."

  "What's this about?" Sigrun glanced toward Xin.

  He adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit. "It'll make sense. Soon."

  "Always does," Roach added, grinding out his cigarette in a small tray that retracted into the wall. "One way or another."

  The elevator hummed downward. Sigrun counted floors in her head—five, six, seven. Deeper than she'd expected. Deeper than any building in Xing Hong that Sigrun knew.

  The doors opened onto dimness. The kind of carefully cultivated shadow.

  Braziers burned at regular intervals along walls of black stone, their flames casting flickering gold across polished floors. The air smelled of sandalwood and something older, something that reminded Sigrun of the incense shops in Dragon District but concentrated, intensified.

  They stepped out into a chamber that was less a room than a cathedral.

  The ceiling vanished into shadow overhead. Massive pillars of black marble rose at intervals, carved with characters Sigrun couldn't read: Devavani script, probably, or something older still. Between the pillars, the floor stretched outward in concentric circles of black and white stone, the pattern drawing the eye inexorably toward the center.

  Toward the statue.

  Sigrun stopped walking.

  Five stories tall, at least. Maybe more. White stone that appeared to glow from within, veined with threads of gold that caught the firelight and held it. The surface had a quality like polished jade, smooth and luminous.

  The figure herself sat astride a phoenix in mid-flight, its wings spread wide, tail feathers flowing behind it in frozen waves of stone. The bird's beak was open, fierce and proud, and beneath its talons swirled carved clouds that formed the statue's base. Sigrun recognized the shape—it matched the golden phoenix on Xing Hong's ebony flag, the symbol she'd seen on government buildings and official documents for eleven years. Beneath the phoenix, a plaque with traditional Mandarin characters etched on it.

  But the rider commanded more attention than the mount.

  A woman in elaborate armor, serene despite the implied motion of flight. Her robes flowed around her like water frozen mid-pour, carved with patterns so intricate Sigrun could have studied them for hours without seeing everything. Her hair was piled high in an elaborate style, held with ornaments that might have been flowers or stars. In one hand she held a staff topped with a luminous orb. Some kind of embedded technology, or maybe something stranger.

  "That's Seed Dumu," Xin murmured. "Goddess of war and…sex. Primary deity of Xing Hong."

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  "War and sex?" Sigrun kept her voice low.

  "Her decree is 'Make War as you would Make Love.' That's what the Mandarin characters mean. " Xin adjusted his glasses. "The interpretation varies."

  The Dumu statue's face was calm. Peaceful. The slight smile of someone who knew secrets and found them gently amusing.

  "White-Stone Lady," H?kon breathed from Xin's shoulder, his scales shifting to an awed pale blue. "White-Stone Lady ride big pretty bird."

  "Legend says that statue was built from some white hot cum of a hundred and eight men," Roach said, appearing at Sigrun's elbow with a grin. "The founders of this city. Heh. Gave everything they had to make it, know what I mean?"

  "Roach." Dilinur's voice carried across the chamber without seeming to rise. "Legends are meant to inspire. I would ask that you take the worship of Seed Dumu seriously."

  "Told it like my grandfather told me."

  "The wording."

  Roach grumbled but relented. "Fine, Prefect. I'll watch it."

  They arranged themselves before the statue's base, Dilinur at the front with Haylen and the Constables flanking her. The others fell into a loose semicircle behind them.

  Sigrun watched as Dilinur produced two objects from within her robe. Crescent-shaped pieces of white stone, each fitting neatly in her palm. She held them up—white jade veined with gold, polished smooth, beautiful in a way that felt almost too perfect for human hands to have made.

  "Those are divination blocks," Xin explained quietly. "Jiaobei, in the Imperial language. You state your request to the goddess, then throw them. The way they land tells you her answer."

  "And if she says no?"

  "Then you ask again. Or accept her judgment."

  Around her, people were folding their hands into prayer position. Sigrun watched Marcus do it hesitantly, his gauntleted hands looking awkward in the gesture. Jabari followed suit with a slight shrug, as if to say when in Rome. Iron Roach's hands came together fast and firm somehow, despite his earlier irreverence.

  Xin's hands rose to prayer position. On his shoulder, H?kon watched the others with evident confusion, his tiny head turning from face to face, scales shifting to confused beige.

  "People quiet, Pappa," he observed. "Why people quiet but Red Lady?"

  "We're praying, buddy. Here, do it like this."

  H?kon considered this, then rose onto his hind legs and pressed his tiny claws together in rough imitation. His scales settled back to navy blue. "HAW-koon pray too. HAW-koon help."

  Sigrun folded her own hands. The gesture felt foreign as she hadn't prayed to anything in eleven years. Hadn't seen the point. But refusing seemed worse somehow.

  "Seed Dumu, Mother of Essence and Passage." Dilinur's formal voice filled the chamber. "I am Dilinur Altai, your devotee. I stand before you with my people, prepared to embark upon a voyage to Venus. We seek a Radi-Human named Ume, whose secrets may hold the key to destroying the monster called Skarn."

  The name echoed off the distant walls. Sigrun felt something cold and tight in her chest.

  "Guide our hands as we unravel these mysteries. Protect us as we journey through hostile territory. Bless our mission, that we may return to Xing Hong as its heroes and protectors."

  Dilinur paused, letting silence settle.

  "Will you bless our voyage?"

  She tossed the blocks. They tumbled through the air, white-gold crescents striking the black marble floor with a clear, musical sound.

  Both blocks landed flat-side up.

  Iron Roach made a low sound in his throat. Marcus frowned at him.

  "A laughing answer," Jabari said, his voice carrying just enough to reach Sigrun's ears. "Dumu finds something funny. Or the question was unclear."

  Dilinur's expression didn't change, but something tightened around her eyes. She bent to retrieve the blocks, straightening with careful dignity.

  "Great Seed Dumu." Her voice remained steady. "I led my people to triumph in '83, when Xing Hong gained independence from the Imperium under your blessings. I have served you faithfully for twelve years since. Will you grant that blessing once more, for this voyage?"

  She tossed the blocks again.

  Both landed flat-side up.

  The silence stretched. Sigrun watched Dilinur's jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.

  "Has my good karma run out somehow?" The Prefect picked up the blocks a third time, holding them before her face as she gazed up at the serene statue. "Seed Dumu, great Mother of Passage, it is imperative that we find Ume. Whatever secret lies within her can be leveraged to defeat Skarn and save this city from certain destruction. I ask again: will you bless us?"

  The blocks flew. Tumbled. Fell.

  Both curved sides faced up.

  Xin made an uncomfortable sound beside Sigrun. Even Roach had stopped grinning.

  "Moon-shapes make pretty music," H?kon offered hopefully into the heavy silence. "Music-shapes."

  "That's a refusal," Jabari said. No humor in his voice now. "Well. This got awkward."

  "You know Imperial traditions, Mister Jabari?" Haylen turned to address him.

  "Traveled around the Inner Sol before settling on Mars. Seen a few local things." Jabari met the Sergeant's gaze. "And unlike some Griots, I actually remember stuffs outside palaces and brothels."

  "Of course you do." Marcus visibly frowned at that.

  "Bah! It's just some tradition from the last century," Roach said. "We can go ahead anyway—"

  "No." Dilinur held up a hand, still staring at the blocks on the floor. "I will not allow such an important mission to proceed without divine blessing. But..." She shook her head slowly. "This makes no sense. Why would Seed Dumu refuse?"

  No one answered. The braziers crackled.

  "Perhaps," Marcus said carefully, "another should make the attempt. Someone the goddess might view...differently."

  Haylen turned sharply. "Are you volunteering, Mr. Thorne?"

  "But I am faithful to Zori." Marcus spread his hands. "It would not be proper for me to petition another divine, even in respect."

  "Then who?" Haylen's gaze swept the gathered Associates. "Shall we ask the Griot to charm the goddess with song?"

  Jabari raised both hands in surrender. "I'm strictly percussion, Sergeant. Pretty sure Dumu prefers strings."

  "Sigrun should try."

  Everyone turned. Xin pushed his glasses up his nose, his cheeks flushing under the sudden attention, but his voice stayed steady.

  "She's not from Xing Hong originally. She doesn't have the same... history with the city, or with Seed Dumu. Maybe that's what the goddess wants. A fresh perspective."

  Haylen's expression hardened. "If you truly understood the Dao, Rigger, you would NOT suggest that an outsider undertake the divination."

  "But Sigrun's more than that." Xin didn't back down, though his slender hands had started to tremble slightly. "She fought for this city during the Fenris siege. She bled for it. If that doesn't earn her the right to ask a question, I don't know what does."

  "She's a Nordling." Haylen's voice dropped, but it carried. "And worse, she's a Leased Lily! An unsponsored one, if the rumors hold true."

  Sigrun felt gazes shift toward her. Some of the Constables exchanged glances. One of them actually took a half-step back, as if proximity might contaminate him.

  "Sergeant Shih." Dilinur's tone carried warning.

  "With respect, Prefect." Haylen turned to face her superior directly. "Seed Dumu's domain includes war and intimacy. We should not allow those who cheapen the act into commerce here in this sacred—"

  "What, you think I cheapen it?"

  Sigrun's voice came out sharp yet controlled. The voice she used when clients got too rough and needed reminding who held the weapons.

  Haylen met her eyes without flinching. "You've bartered your body like goods at market. You've taken men into your bed for Atomic Dollars, night after night, year after year. The goddess sees all, Miss Fjeld. She knows what you are."

  "Yo, Haylen." Jabari stepped forward. "Everyone here's got a different job before they joined. Can we all relax a bit?"

  "Can we? Should we?" Haylen's gaze didn't leave Sigrun's face. "Seed Dumu governs war and sex alike. Both sacred. Both demanding sacrifice and honor. What honor is there in spreading your legs for rent money?"

  The silence that followed was absolute.

  Sigrun could feel her heartbeat in her temples. Eleven years of doing whatever it took to eat, to pay rent, to save for a ticket that might never come. She thought of the clients who'd treated her like furniture. The ones who'd wanted her to pretend she enjoyed it. The ones who'd left bruises she'd hidden under turtlenecks for weeks.

  She thought of Dante IV Pompeo, proposing marriage one moment and withdrawing it the next when her damaged memory failed her.

  She thought of Xin, who'd seen her at her worst and still looked at her like she was something worth protecting.

  "You're right." Sigrun said.

  Haylen blinked. "Pardon?"

  "I've fucked men for money. Lots of them. Some were kind. Most weren't." Sigrun took a step forward. Then another. "I've done things that would make your Constables blush just hearing about them. And I've lived. Eleven years on a rock that wants nothing but my weapons and my body. Somehow, I refuse to fucking lie down and…"

  She stopped an arm's length from Haylen. Close enough to see the slight widening of her eyes. "And?" The Sergeant said.

  "If your goddess has a problem with that," Sigrun said, "she can tell me herself."

  She held out her hand toward Dilinur who stepped towards both of them.

  The Prefect studied her for a long moment. Then she reached into her robe and placed the divination blocks in Sigrun's hand.

  They were heavier than expected. Warm from Dilinur's touch, the white jade smooth as water under her fingers. The gold veining seeming to pulse with its own inner glow.

  Sigrun turned to face the statue. She had stood before statues of Odin and Freya as a child, in temples that now lay in ruins under Fenris occupation. She'd been taught the old J?turmál prayers, the old offerings. Blood for Odin. Honey for Freya. Words for the All-Father who saw everything and judged accordingly.

  Those gods hadn't answered when Skarn and his Fenris Horde came.

  Her hands tightened on the blocks.

  "Hey, Seed Dumu. I don't know your prayers," she said. Her voice sounded strange in the vast space. "Never learned them. Never asked you for anything before."

  Five stories of serene divinity gazed down at her. The goddess on her phoenix, staff raised, that slight smile playing at carved lips.

  "I'm going to Venus to find someone who might help us kill the monster who destroyed my home. Who took—"

  Ivar. The name surfaced before she could stop it. Ivar, standing against Skarn, blood on his face, shouting at her to run. Ivar, who'd given her Baldr and fifty thousand Atomic Dollars and coordinates to a city she'd never heard of. Ivar, who she'd left behind to die while she climbed into a cryo-pod and fled like a coward.

  She stopped. Swallowed.

  "—who took everything from me. Everyone I loved. Everything I was supposed to become."

  Behind her, she heard Xin shift his weight. Heard H?kon make a soft, worried trill.

  "If you want to bless that, great. If you don't..." She exhaled slowly. "I'm going anyway. Blessed or not. Because there's nothing else left for me to do."

  She tossed the blocks.

  They tumbled through the air, white-gold crescents spinning end over end, and struck the black marble with a clear, ringing note that seemed to hang in the darkness.

  One flat. One curved.

  For a moment, no one moved. Then one of the Constables—the one who'd stepped back earlier—dropped to his knees, his ebony armor clattering against the stone floor.

  "Divine approval," he breathed. "On the first throw!"

  "My grandmother prayed for thirty years," another Constable said, his voice hushed. "Never once got a yes on the first throw."

  Sigrun stared at the blocks. The flat one caught the firelight, gleaming. The curved one lay beside it like a crescent moon freshly fallen to earth.

  She'd spent eleven years convincing herself that gods were stories. That faith was just another way of lying to yourself about a cold universe that didn't care.

  And now this.

  "Well, look at that." Roach's voice cut through the murmuring. "Guess the goddess doesn't care if someone's a whore!"

  "Amusing." Marcus said cautiously, his silver armor clanking. "How the divines in Imperial domain behave has always eluded me."

  Haylen's face had gone rigid, and her hands had curled into fists at her sides.

  Jabari let out a low whistle. "Seed Dumu surprises."

  "The goddess sees what we cannot, and has blessed Sigrun Fjeld." Dilinur said carefully, stepping forward to collect the blocks, "And through her, our mission."

  "She blessed a Nordling." Haylen's voice was barely audible. "An outsider. Over her own Prefect."

  The Constables were dividing. Some had followed their young comrade to their knees, heads bowed toward Sigrun with unmistakable reverence. Others remained standing, exchanging uncertain glances, clearly unsure what to make of a goddess who'd refused their leader three times and accepted a foreign prostitute on the first throw.

  "Sky Lady special," H?kon announced from Xin's shoulder, his scales shifting to delighted azure. "Sky Lady make music-shapes happy! White-Stone Lady like Sky Lady!"

  Sigrun turned. Xin was watching her with an expression that looked almost like awe, and that made her want to look away.

  "I didn't do anything," she said. "Just threw some rocks."

  "You told the truth." Xin's voice was steady. "Maybe that's what she wanted."

  Haylen hadn't moved. She stood where she'd been, fists still clenched.

  "Sergeant Shih." Dilinur tucked the blocks back into her robe. "We have our blessing. Shall we proceed?"

  "Yes, Prefect. Let us proceed." Haylen's words came out clipped, then her jaw tightened. Her eyes, when they found Sigrun's, held something that wasn't respect. "Constables, with me."

  She turned on her heel and strode toward the far doors without waiting for the others.

  "Look at her go." Roach observed, falling into step beside Sigrun. "Girl's gonna be watching you the whole trip."

  "Let her watch."

  "Ha! That's the spirit." Roach grinned, showing teeth.

  NUCLEUS

  Dreams & Desires

  Epic Space Opera Meets Character-Driven Romance

  Sigrun Fjeld survived the fall of Europa. For eleven years, she's killed monsters and sold herself on Mars—every credit saved for one impossible goal: return to Jupiter and find him.

  Then a fifty-thousand-credit bounty throws her into the Red Rabbit Warren with four strangers who might be allies, enemies, or something more dangerous: people she could trust.

  But Primarch Skarn—the monster who destroyed her world—has hunted her across the solar system. And he's closer than she knows.

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  Tactical Combat

  Space dungeons meet squad tactics

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  Adult Romance

  Mature, plot-relevant intimacy

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  Soft Sci-Fi

  Detailed worldbuilding & lore prioritizing fun

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