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

17:44, March 20, 2295

Tuolumne Meadows, Yosemite Valley

The Fenormr's acidic bile splashed against frozen rock where Dilinur had been standing a heartbeat before. She rolled left, coming up with her Tarim Aytün fan already glowing with red psionic energy.

Her muscles moved before her mind caught up, and for a terrifying instant, she wondered: Was that me or the Crystal?

But as she checked, the rest of her body was following. This was not a directive from someone or something else. This was her combat skill trained over her years of being a Prefect. The relief of that realization made her roll smoother as she came up with her Tarim Aytün fan already glowing with psionic energy.

"Rakta Phiniks, hanatu!" She thrust the fan forward.

Crimson fangs of Eclipse energy streaked through the frigid air, their heat leaving vapor trails in the afternoon cold. They struck the serpentine creature mid-lunge, and something extraordinary happened—the spell didn't just pierce the Fenormr's blue golden scales. It unmade them.

The creature's shriek came out wrong, metal scraping against glass, as its flesh bubbled and dissolved where her Eclipse magic touched. Not the clean wounds she expected, but corruption spreading like acid through paper.

"Dinu! Your left!" Joon-Seok's warning came simultaneously with the distinctive hum of his Psytum Sword igniting. The red energy blade carved through a second Fenormr attempting to flank them, bisecting it cleanly.

Always watching my blind spots, she thought with a flutter of warmth. Even in chaos, he protects me.

The red energy blade carved through a second Fenormr attempting to flank them, bisecting it cleanly. But where the pieces fell, they too began that strange dissolution, scales peeling away.

They moved in synchronization. When she ducked to avoid a spray of bile, his blade swept overhead to catch the Krabba that had tried to use the distraction.

Perfect partnership, Dilinur thought, not noticing how clinically he assessed each of her movements, cataloguing strengths and weaknesses with the precision of a butcher studying cuts of meat.

More creatures burst from the frozen undergrowth—Krabbas skittering on ice-crusted legs, their blue shells like deadly sapphires. Dilinur's fan danced, weaving defensive barriers of crimson energy, and watched in fascination as the creatures recoiled before even touching them.

"Fascinating," Joon-Seok murmured, driving his blade through a dying Krabba.

He finds me fascinating, Dilinur thought, her heart skipping. He appreciates my power.

When the last creature fell, they stood back-to-back in a circle of dissolving corpses. The air reeked of ozone and something else—a sickly-sweet smell like flowers rotting in snow. Their breath misted between them, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body against her spine.

"That's the third pack in an hour," Joon-Seok observed, powering down his sword. The movement was economical, efficient. He checked the golden black hilt with the same detached focus he'd shown while killing. "Organized. Coordinated. Almost like they're herding us somewhere."

Always thinking ahead, Dilinur admired, not recognizing the predator's calculation in his tone.

"That's the third pack in an hour," Joon-Seok observed, powering down his sword to check its battery levels. The blade flickered and died, leaving only the elegant hilt. He frowned at the power indicator before reigniting it, the red energy springing back to life.

Dilinur watched him perform the simple maintenance check, and something in her chest tightened. Even here, surrounded by death and ice, he carried himself with that princely bearing that had first drawn her attention in the Imperial court.

One day, she thought, allowing herself a moment's fantasy, that sword will rest beside the Ruby Throne. And I'll stand beside him, wearing the phoenix crown that has graced every Empress since the founding.

She could see it so clearly—the Brocade Celestial Palace draped in red silk for their wedding. The Bloodtroopers in their crimson, spiked ceremonial armor lining the throne room. His hand in hers as they ascended those ancient steps together.

Together, we would make the Imperium stronger than ever. Not through fear or manipulation, like those before us, but through genuine love for each other and our fatherland. The Emperor and Empress that our people deserve.

"Dinu?" His voice pulled her from the reverie. "We should keep moving."

"Of course." She tucked the fan back into her sash, but the warmth of the vision lingered. Perhaps when this was over, when they'd reclaimed the Crystal and restored their honor...

They picked their way through Yosemite's transformed landscape. What had once been a natural paradise now resembled a frozen battlefield. Bloodtrooper corpses lay scattered among destroyed equipment—a Kinetic Crossbow here, a shattered helmet there. The Dragonfort's wreckage had spread across kilometers, turning the valley into a graveyard of Imperial ambitions.

"Movement ahead," Joon-Seok murmured, raising his sword.

The creatures that burst from the ice were slithering Fenormr and Krabba acting as shield, their blue shells gleaming like frozen sapphires.

"Nakha Bandigṛha!" Dilinur shouted, thrusting her fan toward the approaching enemies. Crimson nails of pure Eclipse energy erupted from the ground, forming a prison around the Jokull creatures.

What happened next made both of them pause.

The Krabba didn't just struggle against the spell—they dissolved. Their shells cracked and melted as if the Eclipse energy was bane to their very existence. The Fenormr fared slightly better, managing to slither around with agonized hisses, but even they showed signs of accelerated decay where the crimson energy touched them, melting their scales.

"That's…rather amusing," Joon-Seok said, finishing off the weakened Myrkur with precise sword strikes. "Your Eclipse magic is far more effective against them than it should be."

Dilinur stared at her fan, mind racing. "So the Jokull Horde are vulnerable to Eclipse specifically. More than other Radi-Mon types." She met his eyes. "Do you think the Alliance knows? The Directorate?"

"If they don't, they should." He nudged one of the dissolved Krabba with his boot. "This could change the equation in the war against Harald's creations."

"I've heard about that name. Some Nordling expert on the subject of xenology."

"Not just that. Rumor has it he's the one who created the Moondust Crystal inself. But I always found the theory ridiculous."

They continued through the frozen wasteland, both lost in thought about the implications. The afternoon sun climbed lower, casting shadows through ice-covered pines.

The sound of plasma fire reached them before they saw the source—a rapid staccato that spoke of desperate defense. They crested a small rise to find a makeshift Imperial position: overturned supply crates forming crude barricades, a dozen Bloodtroopers holding a perimeter against circling Sky Shredders.

"Thermal weapons, focus fire on the left flank!" A familiar voice rang out over the combat.

Kaori Ouyang stood atop the damaged hull of her Draconic Engine, the massive tank's lid open, the miniguns on its side tracking Sky Shredders despite visible damage to its turret housing mini nukes. Her SMG spat precise bursts, each finding its mark.

"Roach, they're trying to flank!"

The yakuza emerged from behind cover like a demon from myth, his cybernetic enhancements allowing him to leap impossibly high. His shotgun boomed, turning a diving Sky Shredder into a cloud of ichor and wings.

"About fucking time you showed up," he growled as he landed, his steel combat jacket splattered with various colors of Radi-Mon blood. "Thought you noble types had gotten yourselves eaten."

"Roach," Joon-Seok said coolly. "Report."

"What's to report, fancy pants? Ship's fucked, half our people are dead or missing, and these flying shit-stains won't stop coming." He pumped his double-barreled shotgun, ejecting a spent shell. "But hey, at least the weather's nice. Unlike back home."

"Taipei does have annoying rains." Dilinur joined the small talk. "I miss it already."

"Same." Roach sighed as he looked to the horizon.

Kaori slid down from the Draconic Engine with practiced grace. "My tank's operational, but barely. Main gun's at thirty percent capacity, and we're down to fumes on the fusion battery." She looked between Dilinur and Joon-Seok, noting their relatively intact state. "You two seem to have fared better than most."

"We've been moving since the crash," Dilinur said. "Have you established communication with Celestial Reach?"

"Working on it," Kaori gestured to where several tech specialists hunched over salvaged equipment. "The quantum entanglement array survived, but we needed to boost the signal through all this interference."

As if on cue, one of the Peons in his cheap gray jumpsuit looked up. "Ma'am! We have a connection!"

They gathered around the makeshift communication station as holographic projectors sparked to life. The image flickered, stabilized, and suddenly the throne room of the Brocade Celestial Palace in Sichuan, Mainland China—the Imperium's capital—materialized before them in miniature.

Emperor Zi-Yuan Sun sat upon the Ruby Throne, his aged features sharp beneath the golden crown that seemed to weigh upon his graying head. The ceremonial armor he wore gleamed with embedded rubies, plates engraved with dragon motifs. Beside him, Empress Mei-Chi Chen maintained her posture, her elaborate black silk gown embroidered with crimson phoenixes, her hair swept up in an intricate style adorned with golden ornaments.

Governor Zu-Shao Qin stood to their right, his bald head gleaming, the golden dragon embroidered on his black and crimson robes seeming to coil with each breath. His expression remained grave, dark brown eyes unreadable. Secretary Shazmeen Varma lingered in the background, her long black hair flowing over a crimson silk dress that left her brown midriff bare, golden jewelry at her throat.

"Your Majesties," Dilinur dropped to one knee immediately, the others following suit.

"Rise." the Emperor commanded, his weathered voice carrying unusual tension that seemed to deepen the lines around his eyes. "Rise, I say! And report your status."

"Our Dragonfort, Shun-Huang has been destroyed by combined Radi-Mon forces," Dilinur kept her voice steady. "But we've established a defensive position with surviving personnel. The Moondust Crystal was lost in the—"

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"The Crystal's fate will be addressed momentarily!" the Emperor interrupted. "Governor Qin has urgent intelligence that supersedes all other concerns."

Dilinur's stomach clenched at the formal use of Shao's title. The Governor stepped forward, holding a data pad that projected additional holograms.

"Three hours ago, coordinated strikes began across Taiwan Province," Shao's voice was clipped, professional. "The old independence movements have resurfaced. This time with military backing! Kaohsiung Starport has fallen under the control of those rebel savages. They've also seized our Zephyrium refineries in Hualien."

Gasps echoed from the surviving Bloodtroopers. Even Iron Roach straightened at the news. "Must be those Sand Lotus sons and bitches again.", the cyborg pushed his crimson sunglasses.

"Preliminary intelligence suggests the Sand Lotus organization is involved," Qin continued. "Their agents were identified leading strikes on government facilities. They've been planning this for weeks, waiting for our forces to be stretched thin chasing the Moondust Crystal."

The Empress leaned forward. "Shao. How many loyal forces remain in the province?"

"Skeleton garrisons only, Your Majesty. The bulk of our strength is here, on this fool's errand in Yosemite." Shao bowed to the Empress as he spoke, but his eyes found Dilinur briefly. "The rebels knew exactly when to strike."

"Your recommendation?" the Emperor asked.

"Immediate recall of all Golden Serpent forces," Shao said without hesitation. "All of you here: Kaori, Iron Roach, Prince Joon-Seok, Marisol. Plus every Bloodtrooper, Amber-Eye and Conjurer, every asset. Taiwan Province generates thirty percent of our Zephyrium output. Without it, our military infrastructure collapses within six months!"

Dilinur's heart skipped a beat. Her name was not mentioned on that list.

"Your Majesties." Kaori chimed in. "Marisol is missing. We've tried pinning her usual Extranet Protocol Address, but—"

"Try for another day." The Empress raised a hand. "Your priority must be to depart Yosemite safely."

Joon-Seok stepped forward. "Your Majesty, abandoning the Moondust Crystal now—"

"Would mean prioritizing a foreign artifact over our own territory," the Empress cut him off. "Nothing will compromise the wholeness of our people."

The Emperor was silent for a long moment. Around them, the Yosemite wind howled through ice-covered trees.

"The Golden Serpent Circle is hereby recalled to suppress the Taiwan rebellion," he declared finally. "All personnel mentioned will return immediately for roster optimization and redeployment. The Moondust Crystal..." he paused, "...is no longer our concern."

Dilinur felt the ground shift beneath her feet. After everything—the battles, the losses, the compromises—they were simply walking away?

"Your Majesty," she began, "surely we can maintain some presence—"

"Which brings us," Shao interrupted, that particular tone entering his voice that made her stomach clench even tighter, "to another matter requiring immediate attention!"

The atmosphere in the projection shifted. The Emperor's gaze fixed on Dilinur with renewed intensity.

"Before we can optimize our forces for Taiwan," the Emperor said slowly, "we must first cleanse our ranks of corruption. Secretary Varma, present your evidence."

Shazmeen stepped forward, producing a small holographic projector from her robes. "As commanded, Your Majesties."

Dilinur's heart began to race. Evidence? What evidence? She glanced at Joon-Seok, but his attention was fixed on the projection.

"During the salvage operations of the Dragonfort after its shattering in Yosemite," Shazmeen began, "our Peons discovered something...illuminating."

The device activated, and Dilinur's heart stopped.

There she was, in perfect holographic clarity, standing alone before the Moondust Crystal. The recording must have been from the ship's backup system—who else could have captured this private moment? Her voice echoed across the frozen wasteland:

"Moondust, do you see that bald man that just screeched at me? His name is Zu-Shao Qin. My superior, my oppressor. I need you to modify his disposition towards me. Immediately."

The Crystal's response, that single word: "Compliance."

The projection flickered, showing a split screen—Governor Qin before and after. On the left, his face twisted with rage, threatening her with the Empress's Gardens. On the right, the same man bowing deeply, praising her exemplary service, proposing celebrations in her honor.

Then her own voice again, dripping with triumph: "My lord is too kind. Perhaps you could help facilitate such an event?"

The projection ended. Silence fell like a funeral shroud.

"One of the Peons managed to find that recording when salvaging for parts." Kaori's hand found the Thermal Dagger hilt on her belt as she explained. "You really should've encrypted all holo call recordings, Prefect. But fortunately for our great Imperium, you had not."

Everyone turned to stare at her. Iron Roach's scarred face showed something between disgust and dark amusement. The Bloodtroopers shifted uneasily, unsure whether they should react towards their Prefect.

"It cannot be. Must've been falsified!"

"Imperium-made system can't lie. It is true, then?"

But it was Joon-Seok's face that broke her heart.

The prince who had saved her life, who had pulled her from crushing death, who she had dreamed would stand beside her as Emperor—he looked at her as if seeing a stranger. Shock transformed his elegant features, then shifted into something unreadable. Not quite betrayal. Not quite disgust.

Something worse.

Disappointment.

The hologram of Emperor Sun leaned forward on his throne, and when he spoke, each word fell like winter itself:

"Prefect Dilinur Altai, you stand accused of using the sacred Moondust Crystal for personal gain. How do you answer?"

Everyone turned to stare at her. Kaori's hand had found her sidearm. Iron Roach's scarred face showed something between disgust and dark amusement. The Bloodtroopers shifted uneasily, unsure whether they should be raising weapons against their commander.

But it was Joon-Seok's face that broke her heart. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"I only wanted respect, not—" Dilinur's voice cracked, her usual composure shattering. "Governor Qin has tormented me for years. The things he's done, the degradation—"

"So you manipulated him like a puppet?" Iron Roach spat on the frozen ground. "Used the Crystal to play god? Shit, Prefect, you played us all. Made us think you were some noble servant of the Imperium."

"I am a servant of the Imperium!" The words came out as a plea.

"Were," Kaori corrected coldly, her fingers resting on her sidearm's grip. "Whatever you were, Dilinur, ended the moment you perverted the Crystal's purpose for personal gain."

The Emperor's voice cut through their accusations like winter wind: "Prefect Altai, you have violated the most sacred trust. The Moondust Crystal was placed in your hands to serve the Imperium, not to satisfy your petty desires for respect."

"Your Majesty, please—"

"Silence!" The Empress leaned forward, her feminine features hard as porcelain. "The defeat in foreign lands, the destruction of your blessed Dragonfort—is divine punishment for your treachery. The Celestial Dragons themselves reject a vessel so tainted by selfish ambition."

Dilinur dropped to her knees, her ornate robes pooling around her in the snow. "I served the Imperium faithfully! Every mission, every sacrifice—I bled for our Imperium! One moment of weakness doesn't erase—"

"It erases everything!" Emperor Sun interrupted. "Your service is tainted by ambition, Dinu. Every victory you achieved, every honor you earned…all are now suspect. Did you truly earn them, or did you manipulate your way to glory?"

The question hung in the air like a blade. Dilinur had no answer that would satisfy them.

"Prince Pak," the Emperor continued, his gaze shifting to Joon-Seok. "You WILL execute the traitor. Let her death serve as a reminder that none are above Imperial justice."

Joon-Seok straightened, his hand moving to his Psytum Sword. "As you command, Your Majesty."

"Wait," Dilinur's voice was barely a whisper. This couldn't be happening. Not like this. Not by his hand.

"The execution will be carried out immediately," the Empress added. "We cannot risk her corrupting others with her ambitions."

The hologram flickered and died, leaving them in the harsh reality of the frozen wasteland. Dilinur remained on her knees, staring at the snow. Around her, the Bloodtroopers stepped back, creating a circle—an impromptu execution ground.

Joon-Seok stepped forward, his movements precise and formal. The Psytum Sword hummed to life, its crimson blade casting red shadows on the snow.

Joon-Seok stepped forward, his Psytum Sword humming to life. The crimson blade cast red shadows on the snow, turning the white ground the color of blood yet to be spilled.

"Clear the area," he commanded, his voice carrying that princely authority she'd once admired. "All personnel, withdraw to perimeter positions."

"Prince," Kaori frowned, "protocol dictates that executions be witnessed—"

"I said clear the area." His tone brooked no argument. "She was a Prefect of the Imperium. She deserves dignity in death, not spectacle."

Iron Roach was already walking away, mechanical joints whirring. "Your show, Prince. Just make sure she's actually dead when you're done. Don't need any resurrection bullshit."

One by one, they retreated. Kaori lingered longest, her amber eyes moving between Dilinur and Joon-Seok with open suspicion. But eventually, even she withdrew, leading the Bloodtroopers to establish a perimeter beyond the tree line.

Soon, only Dilinur and Joon-Seok remained in the small clearing, surrounded by ice-covered pines and the distant sounds of the valley burning.

Dilinur raised her head, meeting his eyes. "Thank you. For the privacy. I know I don't deserve—"

"Don't." He began to circle her slowly, sword held in a ready position. "Don't make this harder than necessary."

But something in his movement was wrong. He wasn't positioning for a clean strike. His footsteps were measuring distance, checking sightlines to where the others had gone. When he passed behind her, his free hand briefly touched her shoulder—not a comfort, but gauging the quality of her robes' armor weave.

"Stand," he said quietly. "Face me."

She rose on unsteady legs. The afternoon sun was sinking lower, casting long shadows across the snow. In the distance, she could hear the Bloodtroopers establishing defensive positions, their voices fading with distance.

Joon-Seok stopped directly in front of her, the sword's point resting in the snow between them. When he spoke again, his voice had changed—not the formal tone of an executioner, but something colder. More calculating.

"Dilinur, I can spare your life."

Hope flared in her chest so suddenly it was painful. "Joon-Seok—"

"Everything has a price." His eyes traveled over her kneeling form with clinical assessment. "I'm prepared to report your death to the Emperor. Let you escape with supplies—three days' worth. Enough to reach the valley's edge, perhaps find Alliance or Directorate forces willing to take in a refugee."

She waited, already knowing what came next but needing to hear him say it.

"In exchange," he continued, "one night. Tonight. In my tent. In my bed." His gaze never wavered. "As mine to do with as I please."

The words hung between them like ice crystals in the air.

"You want me to..." she couldn't finish the sentence.

"I want you willing," he clarified, voice still emotionless. "No force. No coercion beyond the choice itself. But complete submission to whatever I desire. The same arrangement you've witnessed between Governor Qin and Secretary Varma." A pause. "Though I promise to be less...degrading than his preferences."

She flinched at the comparison. Everyone knew about Shazmeen's visits to Qin's chambers. The sounds that escaped despite soundproofing. The way she emerge…always disheveled, marked, reeking of his essence.

"That's your offer?" Her voice came out hollow. "My body for my life?"

"Your body for three days of supplies and a chance at survival," he corrected, raising three fingers to match his words.

Dilinur felt something inside her break. Not her spirit—that had been cracking for days under the Crystal's influence. Something deeper. The last vestige of the woman who'd dreamed of standing beside him as Empress one day.

"When you walked me back to my place after our first dinner, when we talked in that tent on Osram, when you…saved me from the pod," she said quietly, "when you pulled me from certain death...was all this already in your mind?"

"Does it matter?" He tilted his head slightly. "The offer stands. Decide quickly. The others will expect to hear death screams soon."

She looked at him. This wasn't cruelty or passion or even desire. This was transaction, pure and simple. She was no longer Prefect Altai, no longer a potential Empress, no longer even a person. She was currency, and he was stating her exchange rate.

"If I refuse?"

He raised the sword slightly. "Then I carry out my orders. Cleanly. Painlessly. You'll be remembered as a traitor, but at least you'll die with your dignity intact."

"My dignity?" A broken laugh escaped her. "You think I have any dignity left? After that recording? After kneeling here, bargaining my body for three days of supplies?"

"You have the dignity of choice," he said simply. "That's more than most traitors receive."

The words hit her like physical blows. She thought of saving herself for someone who saw her true worth. She'd dreamed it would be someone who loved her, who saw her as more than her bloodline or her beauty.

Instead, she faced a prince who saw her as a commodity with a stated price.

"One night," she repeated, tasting ashes. "That's what I'm worth to you?!"

"It's more than the nothing you're worth to the Imperium now." His uttering was deliberate, mechanical. "Choose."

In the distance, a Sky Shredder's cry echoed across the valley. The sun continued its descent as Dilinur Altai stared Joon-Seok Pak in the eyes and made her choice.