Nucleus 1: The Dust of Moon [Mature Sci-fi Romance]

17:17, March 20, 2295

The Depths of the Shard, Mount Lyell, Yosemite Valley

The Moondust shard screamed as it split in half.

Not with voice but with pure psychic agony that hammered into every mind present. Lorna doubled over as pain lanced through her skull, her pendant burning white-hot against her chest. Through tears and static, she watched the two-story monolith crack down its perfect center, light bleeding from the wound.

Jabari's scream joined the crystal's. He'd driven the Vibro-Spear deep, but now he couldn't let go. Solar energy sparked and writhed around him as the Moondust's power invaded his armored form, seeking the Virus that would let him perform this deed and survive contact.

"JABARI!" Thorin abandoned their duel instantly, golden blade dissolving as he sprinted toward his comrade.

The crystal split with a sound like continents dividing. Two halves tumbled apart in slow motion, each still massive, each pulsing with wounded light. The psychic scream cut off, leaving an ache in Lorna's skull that throbbed louder than any noise.

Lorna hit her knees, clutching her head. Every nerve felt flayed, her connection to the pendant making her experience the crystal's agony. Like losing a sister. Like watching family die.

"Mama!" Small claws pressed against her temples. "Hjarta Kyrr! Hjarta Kyrr!"

Håkon's healing spell felt like cool water on burns, easing the psychic trauma. Lorna's vision cleared as Xin's arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her steady as she shook.

"I've got you," he murmured. "Deep breaths."

"The Yosemite shard—" Her voice came out raw. "He broke it. He fucking broke it."

Across the cavern, Thorin had reached Jabari. The young warrior writhed on the ground, still gripping his spear, body convulsing as the Moondust's blue energies envoloped him.

"Surakṣitaḥ Asi!" Thorin poured Solar healing into his student, but his eyes found Lorna's across the chaos. "You see what your father's abomination does? It destroys those who touch it!"

"Then shame on you for letting a kid do your dirty work!" Lorna spat back, even as she struggled to her feet with Xin's help.

"Kid…?" Jabari managed through gritted teeth. "I cannot be much younger than you…"

The ground shook. Not from combat above, but from below. Many somethings approaching fast through the tunnels around them.

"His vitals are stable," Ume reported, kneeling beside Jabari with mechanical precision.

The stone ceiling exploded.

Not from weapons fire—something had punched through from above. Dust and debris rained down as Thomas Mendoza descended on a rappel line, his Gauss Rifle already tracking targets. Behind him, three more Vanguard marines followed.

"Thought you could use a hand!" Thomas called out, his enhanced bionic arms gleaming. "Or two!"

His rifle barked, forcing Thorin to shield Jabari with another Solar barrier. The Vanguards fanned out, securing the cavern entrance.

"Looks like a clusterfuck hit the fan down here." Thomas's gaze swept over the severed Moondust shard, then the assembled parties. "Got two halves of the fancy stone. Let's grab ours and go."

"Yours?" Thorin's eyes blazed. "The Alliance has no claim—"

Thomas's rifle swung toward him. "We do now, whoever the fuck you are."

"Tom…" Lorna couldn't help but grin despite everything. Thomas was right—neither side appeared able to take the entire Yosemite shard at this point. But if they could grab half of it... "Help us load—"

The cavern wall exploded inward.

A Scarab mech—six limbs, deep green shell with golden edges and a menacing mono-eye atop its beetle-like head—burst through in a shower of stone and ice, its guns already tracking. The pilot's voice boomed from speakers with a crisp British accent: "Right then, nobody moves a bloody muscle!"

"Fuck you, alright!" Thomas opened fire, his Gauss rounds sparking off the mech's armor.

The Scarab returned fire with its Plasma Spitter, verdant bolts forcing the Alliance marines to scatter. One caught a Vanguard in the shoulder, spinning him down.

Xin raised his Kinetic SMG to fire alongside Thomas's barking Gauss Rifle.

"Sólskjöldr Vörn!" Thorin's voice rang out, and a golden barrier of Solar energy deflected the barrage. "Jabari, can you stand?"

"Yes..." The young warrior struggled to rise, blood trickling from his eyes and ears. "But I see...visions...so many futures…Dilinur's alive, she will help us! I see it—"

"What?" Thorin muttered incredulously.

"Hallucinations from neural overload," Ume diagnosed. "We need immediate extraction!"

That's when Harald and Olav burst from the maintenance tunnel, both covered in soot and what looked suspiciously like Jokull Radi-Mon ichor.

"The Vöxtr is disabled, but—" Harald's stormy blue eyes widened, taking in the scene. "Herregud ! What happened?"

"Harald!" Thorin snarled. "As always, bringing destruction!"

"Thorin." Harald's voice dropped to arctic cold. "You traitor. I entrusted you with the sacred strain, only to have you Lotus zealots defile it!"

"For creating the Jokull Virus, you should've been imprisoned for life." The monk did not back down. If anything, he stepped even closer to Lorna's father. "Yet here stands your daughter, fighting for something beyond herself. Perhaps redemption runs in the family."

"I should remind you why they call me the Archmage of Buskerud." Harald's hand flickered with wisps of blue psionic wisps.

Thomas's head snapped around. "The fuck? Lorna, is that—"

"Grandpa!" Håkon chirped excitedly, then flexed his tiny claws while pointing at Harald—mimicking the same 'strong' gesture he'd used for himself.

"Did that thing just call him…" Thomas's eyes went wide.

More shapes poured from the tunnels—a chittering, writhing tide of hunger, claws and teeth.

First came the Krabba, dozens of them, their sapphire shells glistening with frost as they scuttled forward on spiked legs. Each one the size of a motorbike, mantis-like claws clicking in anticipation. The crystal's light refracted through their armor, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope of blue death.

Behind them, the Fenormr emerged—massive serpents that moved like liquid muscle, their bodies thick as tree trunks. They reared up, tasting the air with forked tongues, searching for warm blood to freeze. Their eyes glowed pale yellow in the darkness, hunger made manifest.

"Arguments later!" Lorna wrapped her arms around their crystal half, muscles straining as she tried to lift. The damn thing must have weighed over a hundred kilograms—even with her enhanced strength gained through years of intensive weight training and field combat, it barely budged. "Xin, help me!"

"I'm here!" Xin rushed to the opposite end, Håkon clinging to his shoulder. He planted his feet and heaved, face reddening with effort. Together they managed to tilt it up an inch before it slammed back down, the impact reverberating through the cavern floor.

"Fuck, it's like a mountain," Lorna gasped, readjusting her grip. The crystal's surface was smooth as glass, offering no purchase. Her gloved fingers kept slipping on its polished facets.

But the Directorate Scarab stepped before them and their prize, its massive metal bulk casting them in shadow. "Not happening, luv! Our team bled for this."

"So did we!" Thomas swung his Gauss Rifle up, but the mech's armored frontal limb moved with surprising speed, deflecting his shots in a shower of sparks.

"MAJOR WILHELM!" Ume's shout carried genuine emotion. "Jabari needs medical attention. We need to retreat NOW!"

The Scarab's head turned slightly toward the android's voice. In that moment of distraction, Olav darted forward—impressively fast for his bulk. The Grávomb wedged himself under the crystal's edge and heaved with all four limbs, his whole body trembling with effort. Combined with Lorna pulling and Xin pushing, the massive shard finally began to slide across the stone floor with a grinding screech.

"What in the Queen's—" The mech tried to track the Grávomb, servo motors whirring as it pivoted.

Harald's voice cracked like thunder. "Gravitas, Abesto!"

The anti-gravity ball slammed into the Scarab's center mass, sending the multi-ton mech stumbling backward on its six legs, gyroscopes whining in protest as it fought to maintain balance.

"Pa, we need to GO!" Lorna helped Xin and Olav heave the crystal into the Rover's cargo bed. It barely fit, the vehicle groaning under the weight.

Thorin had gotten Jabari upright, the young warrior leaning heavily on Ume's support. His eyes found Lorna's one last time, something unreadable in their depths.

The Scarab recovered, plasma guns charging.

"LOOK OUT!" Xin's voice exploded as he looked bacl.

From the largest tunnel, something beautiful and terrible emerged. An Ísmarr in its true form—translucent flesh like living crystal, a massive jellyfish gliding through air as if it were water. Its bell pulsed with bioluminescent patterns, tentacles trailing like deadly silk. Behind it, more Jokull creatures swarmed out.

"Not her again…" Jabari's voice cracked with recognition. "Astrid!"

The Ísmarr's form shifted, its translucent bell contracting as a humanoid torso emerged from its apex. Where the bell met flesh, the transition was seamless. Astrid's upper body materialized like a goddess rising from primordial waters, her skin pale as fresh snow, eyes the color of arctic ice. Her dark hair floated around her as if suspended in liquid, and her smile held a cruel edge.

"Hey again, Jab! Still feeling frisky after our last dance?" Her gaze swept over them all before landing on Lorna. "Oh my—you must be Sigrún Fjeld! Your mother Maren would so love to see you! I'm Astrid, by the way."

"Astrid." Harald's voice dropped like arctic depths. "I'm hardly surprised you're behind all this."

"Oh, professor." Her laugh was crystalline venom. "You taught me everything I know."

"Not everything." Harald stepped forward, placing himself between Astrid and the fleeing group.

"Skugga-fót!" Dark tendrils of Void energy lashed from Astrid's translucent form, seeking to bind his limbs. But Harald was already moving, hands weaving patterns older than memory.

"Skjöldr Vörn!" The pale blue arctic energy bloomed around him, a barrier of crystallized moonlight that shattered her tendrils into harmless wisps.

"What the fuck am I walking into—?" Thomas looked between Lorna and the creature as he backed toward the Rover, Gauss Rifle aimed at Astrid but hesitating to fire any shot.

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"Predictable as always, old man," Astrid's human torso twisted unnaturally as she gathered more power. "Dauðrörun!"

The quantum echo attack rippled through the air, invisible to Lorna but its impact palpable. Harald staggered as it hit, but his counter was instant.

"Mánafrost Leiftr!" The Frost Moon Bolt erupted from his palm, forcing Astrid to phase her form to avoid it. Ice crystals bloomed where the spell passed.

"DRIVE, Xin!" Lorna dove into the Rover as Xin gunned the engine.

"Hang on, people—we're—moving!" Xin shouted as the Space Rover lurched forward.

"Ah, leaving so soon?" Astrid's attention shifted to them. "Beinaklifr!"

Spectral bone hands erupted from the ground, grasping for the Rover's tires. Harald spun, throwing himself backward into the vehicle while casting one final spell.

"Vetrarvindur!" The gust of wintery wind scattered the bone grip and sent a wall of ice between them and Astrid, buying precious seconds as Olav yanked him fully inside.

Through the rear window, they could see Astrid's form rippling with frustrated power, her perfect features twisted in rage

The Directorate Scarab scooped up their crystal half with its massive frontal limbs. "Time to scarper, people!"

"But we're surrounded!" Thorin's golden Psytum Sword reignited as Krabba and Fenormr closed in from all sides.

"Oh, don't worry," Astrid's laugh tinkled like breaking glass as she turned to Jabari's team. "I want to savor this. It's not every day I get to meet so many hot guys."

Thomas grabbed the Rover's roll bar as it tore past, hauling himself aboard with his enhanced strength. "Need a few mugs of beer after this…"

Behind them, the Scarab pilot was cursing creatively: "Sod this for a game of soldiers!"

"Diego, coming in hot!" Lorna shouted into comms as she settled into the passenger seat. "We need immediate—"

"Already inbound, hermana! Sensors showing múltiples contactos hostiles—" Diego's voice rang through the Rover's intercom.

The Rover burst from Mount Lyell's shadow into fading daylight, engine screaming in protest at the weight. Behind them, explosions and plasma fire lit up the mountain's interior like the world's angriest light show.

Then she saw it—the StarWhale breaking through the cloud cover, its sleek hull gleaming in the setting sun. Its rotors churned the air as it descended toward them, and Lorna felt her shoulders drop with relief. Home. Safety. They'd actually make it.

"Biiiiig skyyyy fish!" Håkon trilled excitedly from Xin's shoulder, spreading his claws as wide as they could go, then making swimming motions in the air while pointing at the StarWhale. His scales shimmered with bright cerulean colors that mimiced the shuttle's metallic sheen.

"Big sky fish?" Xin glanced at their son with a tired smile. "That's actually not bad, buddy."

"He's getting good at speaking." Lorna murmured, reaching over to stroke Håkon's scaly back. He leaned into her touch, making happy chirping sounds that eased the knot in her chest. At least something good had come from this clusterfuck of a day.

As the StarWhale's shadow fell over them, its cargo bay already opening for their approach, Thomas finally found his voice in the backseat: "Okay, Lorna. Want to explain why the fuck you've got family members I've never heard about?"

Lorna met his eyes in the rearview mirror. "It's complicated, Tom."

"Complicated?" Thomas's silver eyes narrowed, the soft whir of his bionic arms audible in the tight space. "We've got one oversized marmot that might be Radi-Mon and one old man—what's your name again?"

"Harald Omdal." Sitting to Thomas's left, with Olav between them, her father's response carried quiet authority. "And you're Thomas Mendoza. I've heard about you."

Thomas went rigid. "Harald Omdal...why does that name sound familiar…"

"Sir! This is the Nordling terrorist who's been breeding Radi-Mons on Europa!" One of the surviving Vanguards said from the third row. "Stardust Command has a kill order on him!"

"The 47th Amendment states that any suspected Nordling should be detained or eliminated." Another Vanguard added, hand moving to his sidearm. "Virus carriers and monsters, is what they are."

"Christ, better not get me sick!" The third Vanguard sealed his helmet with a hiss.

"Hey!" Xin twisted in the driver's seat, eyes flashing behind his glasses. "That's bullshit propaganda and you know it!"

Håkon puffed up on Xin's shoulder, tiny claws extended. He pointed at Lorna, then Harald, making happy chirping sounds. Then he turned to the Vanguards and made a sharp, dismissive gesture—like swatting away something unpleasant.

Sitting between Thomas and Harald, Olav made distressed chirps, pressing closer to Harald's side.

"Typical," Harald remarked with bitter amusement. "Valorans always did think they owned the world. Why question methods that keep you on top?"

"Look, the Alliance isn't some charity organization," Thomas shot back, frustration clear in his voice. "We can't let every immigrant and stray animal in like the old days."

"He's my father, Tom." Lorna's voice cut through like a blade. Years of lying, of hiding—it ended now. "I'm a Nordling, too. Born Sigrún Fjeld in Oslo."

But Thomas simply chuckled. "That's some good joke, Lorna. But I know. Profile says you're a native on Osram. I can tell."

"No, Tom. I've never stayed on Osram besides the occasional missions. It's a cover-up story."

Thomas's hand froze halfway to his weapon. "You're...no. That's not possible."

"Lorna Weiss is a cover identity Director Otis gave me." She turned in her seat to face him fully, blue eyes bright with unshed tears. "You've known me for four years. Slept with me. Fought beside me. I'm still the same person."

"The same person who's been…fuck, I mean…lying this whole time?"

"To survive!" The words tore out of her. "You think I had a choice? You know what happens to Nordlings in Alliance territory. We're treated like walking plagues, Tom. Like we're not even human."

"But that's because…you…carry the Virus—the Fenris Horde, it all started…"

"It hasn't stopped you from fucking me, has it?" Lorna's voice went sharp. "Or did you think your dick had special immunity?"

Thomas flinched. "That's different."

"No, it's not. That's exactly the point."

"¿Están todos bien ahí atrás?" Diego's voice crackled over comms, mixing English with Spanish in his stress. "StarWhale on approach, preparando bahía de carga. Whatever drama, save it for after we're airborne, ¿sí?"

"Diego, amigo, you…listen well. We've got two Nordlings aboard," Thomas said grimly before sighing. "One of them's been with us this whole time."

Silence stretched over the comm. In the Rover, only Håkon's worried trill broke the quiet.

"I suspected," Diego finally said, professional mask not quite hiding his conflict. "But hermana, why were we never told—ah, mierda, incoming fire from the mountain! Evasive pattern delta, preparing for hot pickup!"

"Copy that." Xin's hands flew over the controls, syncing the Rover's systems with the approaching StarWhale. "Matching velocity for dock."

The StarWhale's cargo ramp lowered, and their overloaded Rover lurched aboard with inches to spare. As the ramp began closing, Lorna caught a glimpse of the chaos behind—plasma fire and explosions lighting up Mount Lyell like a war zone.

"Cargo secured," Diego announced. "Sealed and pressurizing. Calling our HQ in Evanston."

The StarWhale's cargo ramp sealed with a pneumatic hiss, and Lorna felt the deck vibrate as they lifted away from Yosemite. Xin killed the Rover's engine as she pushed open her door, boots hitting the shuttle's metal floor with a solid thunk.

"Everyone out," she called, helping Håkon down from Xin's shoulder. The little Diabolisk now rested on her chest as she held him gently. "Let's give our ride some breathing room."

Xin climbed out next, stretching his back with an audible pop. Thomas and the Vanguards followed, taking defensive positions around the Rover out of habit. Harald emerged last, moving with careful dignity, while Olav squeezed out of the backseat, shaking ice crystals from his fur.

"Director Otis, are you seeing this? Diego's voice came over the broadcaster near them.

A hologram materialized in the center of the cargo bay—Director Artak Otis in his customary white suit, silver hair immaculately styled despite the late hour. His weathered Armenian features carried their usual gravity, but his gray eyes showed genuine concern as they found Lorna.

"I'm seeing enough," Otis said, his accent adding weight to each word. "Lorna, Thomas, Xin—report. What's the status of—" He paused as he scanned the area and found Harald amongst them, eyes narrowing in recognition. "—the Yosemite shard?"

Lorna straightened, falling into military bearing despite her exhaustion. "Secured half of it, sir. The Directorate forced a split. They have the other half."

"Better than nothing, given what I'm seeing from satellite feeds." Otis stroked his chin. "The Imperium has lost the main Moondust Crystal. Fenris forces overwhelmed their position twenty minutes ago. Conservative estimates suggest Skarn now controls it."

"Fuck…" Lorna breathed. "If he has the main Crystal—"

"We still have fragments. Not ideal, but not hopeless." Otis's gaze shifted past her. "Mr. Omdal. It's been some time."

Harald stepped forward from behind the Rover, and suddenly the cargo bay felt smaller. Two old powers sizing each other up.

"Artak," Harald inclined his head slightly. "The Alliance playing games with young lives, I see."

"And you, of course, still enjoy creating monsters and calling it science." Otis countered smoothly. "Your Jokull Horde slaughtered a hundred and seventeen Alliance soldiers on Europa just last year alone."

"The Jokull are no longer mine. They follow Maren Fjeld now." Harald's voice carried an edge of old pain. "As you well know, since you've been tracking their movements."

"Guys," Lorna interjected. "Maybe save the dick-measuring for after we're safely away from the murder mountain?"

Through the StarWhale's viewport, she could see the Imperium forces in the distance—the wreckage of the Dragonfort swarming with Radi-Mons. A Draconic Engine's main gun fired, its nuclear payload creating a brief new sun against the darkening sky. Figures in Bloodtrooper armor formed desperate defensive lines as waves of creatures pressed in.

Somewhere in that chaos, Dilinur Altai might be fighting for her life. Joon-Seok Pak, Kaori, Roach, and whoever still followed that prefect, too. Part of Lorna wondered if they'd survive. Part of her wasn't sure she cared.

"Director," Thomas spoke up, voice tight with barely controlled emotion. "Is it true? About Lorna?"

Otis's hologram turned sharply, his usually composed features showing surprise. "I'm not sure what you're referring to, Thomas."

"Don't play games, sir. Lorna, is she a Nordling?"

A heavy silence fell over the cargo bay. Otis's eyes narrowed, calculating how much had been compromised. "Nevermind the legitimacy of that information. How did you obtain it?"

"I told them." Lorna stepped forward, chin raised despite the tremor in her voice. "I revealed it myself. No more hiding."

"Lorna—I've warned you multiple times to never compromise the trust between you and the rest of your team—" Otis began, but she cut him off.

"No, sir. Only by telling them the truth can we build trust. I was born in Oslo, before it fell. I'll always remember that." She felt Xin move to stand beside her, his shoulder brushing hers in silent support. "And yes, Thomas. Diego. Manny, if he can hear this. I've been lying to you all. To everyone. Except—"

"Except some of us," Xin interjected quietly. "She told me the truth weeks ago."

Thomas's gaze snapped between them. "Weeks? You knew it for weeks and didn't—"

"Didn't what? Turn her in?" Xin's voice carried an edge as he faced Thomas. "Report a teammate for the crime of being born in the wrong place?"

The words hung in the air. Lorna's hand found Xin's, their fingers interlacing.

"Director Otis," Lorna continued, squeezing Xin's hand. "I take full responsibility for compromising my cover. But I won't apologize for telling Xin first. He earned that trust."

Otis was silent for a long moment, his holographic form flickering slightly. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of years. "This is...unfortunate. Eight years of carefully constructed identity, gone in a moment."

"It was killing me," Lorna admitted. "The lying. Especially to people who trusted me with their lives."

"Sir," Thomas's voice was strained. "How many others knew? How many times did I risk my life alongside someone carrying the Virus?"

"I've been careful since day one, Tom," Lorna said softly. "Every precaution was taken."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?" Xin stepped slightly forward, protective. "That she's talented? Brave? That she's saved your life a dozen times? None of that changes because of where she was born."

Otis raised a hand for silence. "Thomas, Lorna Weiss—Sigrún—has been an exemplary operative. Her heritage was never relevant to her performance."

"Never relevant?" Thomas laughed bitterly. "It's illegal to harbor Nordlings, sir! I thought the Terra Alliance had laws!"

"Some laws I chose to circumvent for the greater good." Otis's tone brooked no argument. "If you have issues with my judgment, we'll discuss them privately upon your return to Evanston. For now, we have larger concerns than bureaucratic violations."

The Director's gaze softened slightly as it returned to Lorna. "Though I am... disappointed you felt the need to reveal this now, of all times."

"Better from me than having it discovered," Lorna replied. "I control the narrative."

"Hmm." Otis studied her for a moment longer. "We'll discuss the ramifications later. For now—Diego, ETA to Stardust Command?"

"Thirty minutes if we push it," Diego responded.

"Then push it. Otis out."

The hologram vanished, leaving them in the Star Whale's humming cargo bay with their stolen crystal and the weight of revealed truths as they returned to the Space Rover, sitting into it once more.

Lorna slumped in her seat, exhaustion hitting like a sledgehammer. Håkon perched on her shoulder quietly.

In the backseat, Thomas still sat rigid, processing everything. From the third row, the Vanguards kept their weapons close, eyeing the Nordlings with suspicion.

"Thomas, sir. Would you like to smoke outside?" One of them asked.

"Not in the mood, private." Thomas leaned back, exhaling. "We'll get some fucking drink at Quantum Pour tonight."

"As you wish, sir." The marine replied tersely.

Xin entered the driver's seat, slamming his door shut. His hand found Lorna's, squeezing gently.

"Hey," he said softly. "We're alive. We got the shard. Rest is just details."

"Details like my entire identity being blown?" But she squeezed back.

"Mama-okay?" Håkon nuzzled Lorna's cheek, making soft concerned chirps. He gently patted her face with one tiny claw, then pointed to himself and made the same healing gesture he'd used earlier, offering to help.

"You already did, baby." She kissed his scaly head. "You were so brave today."

From the back, Harald watched the interaction with something unreadable in his eyes. Olav had curled up against him, making soft purring sounds.

Outside, Yosemite fell away beneath them, its ancient peaks now scarred by modern war. Somewhere below, other parts of the Moondust Crystal pulsed with wounded light, and the fate of the Five Realms hung in the balance.

But for now, they flew toward home through darkening skies, carrying their fractured prize and fractured truths, while the world burned behind them.