Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

I laughed so much writing our story! I cried a lot too. Do you remember how hard we cried? When we were alone—together? We cried, and it felt like we would die. And we laughed. We laughed until we hurt.

Sometimes I remember what I've written, and I wake up in the middle of the night hysterical. It's so funny! And then I imagine the 9 Galaxies reading it in the days to come, and I think I'll never stop laughing. Making babies upside down? Prophetic rodents?

Will anyone ever believe it was all true? You always said that stories should have happy endings. So let's give them one. They're going to cry a lot. But we'll make them laugh. Let's make the whole fucking Known Cosmos laugh.

Then maybe, maybe, we will change the world.

- Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn (2765)

For decades, the Known Cosmos Earth Press has brought you Stories of Shurwinn. Teasers. Tastes of what was to come.

Who were the mysterious Shurwinn? Why did they leave Earth? Did they have something to hide? And now, for the first time in history, the true story is ready to be revealed.

So, hold onto your hats, Earthens. For we give you the first, the only, English translation of the Ayela Arcana—straight from Shurwinn's Ayela Sanctuary and Retreat in Andromeda Galaxy.

Who is Sibsil Creed? What is the Known Cosmos Earth Press? What happened to Ryst Nova?

While scholars debate if these events are fact or fantasy, we say: "Let the readers decide for themselves!"

But be ye wary, all you who turn these pages. For those who cross the threshold of the mysteries and walk the hallways of the arcana shall not walk away unscathed. For what is once seen cannot be unseen. And those who plunge these depths shall see their true selves.

So guard your hearts. And watch your backs—there are Warrior Nuns about!

And for gods' sakes, gird your loins! With chastity belts! And bug repellent!

NOTE: Our audience is everyday readers, not academics, so numerical values (dates, units of measure, time) have been translated into common English to preserve the flow of the storytellers. To those who take issue with our decision to do so, you are entitled to your opinion. In other words, "Fuck off." Yes, we mean you, Garren.

- Known Cosmos Earth Press, 2860

In the year 2334, the humans of Earth developed spacecraft that they thought would carry them out of Sol System. But they were surprised at what they found. When they reached the orbital plane of Neptune, a vast armada appeared, blocking their exit—a fleet of starliners too numerous to count, each waving a white flag of peace. The Earth ships received transmissions in English, Hindi, and Arabic: "This is a diplomatic retinue. May we meet for trade negations?"

And so the Earthens learned that beyond Sol was a collaboration of spheres, unified by a desire for peace. Nine Galaxies—populated by humans. There was no war. There were no governments; there were Trade Guilds—Manufacturing, Prison, Hospitality, Medica, Education, and so on.

The 9 Galaxies operated on a corporate structure. If your business succeeded, you had prosperity. If your business fell out of favor with the Guilds, you had no Trade partners and floundered. Weapons manufacturing did not exist, for no one would purchase weapons, and no one would trade with anyone who made them. Murder was unheard of.

Earthens had to choose. They could adapt, form their own Trade Guild structure, and join the 9 Galaxies. They would be welcomed. They could Trade for sophisticated technology, allowing for faster cross-galactic travel. There was a Universal language, with many cognates in the Earthen languages.

For whilst Earthens had thought themselves alone in the Cosmos, humans from the 9 Galaxies had been in their midst. The choice was up to them: change their sphere into Trade Guilds and partner with the 9 Galaxies, or remain isolated in Sol. For murderers were not allowed freedom of movement in the 9 Galaxies.

In 2337, Earth joined the Known Cosmos. This is the story of what followed.

- Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2764)

I was running through the dark. I had to get away. I had to, now! My feet slammed on hard rock. There was light ahead. I could see two pillars— each with ridges running from top to bottom. There was light beyond them. I had to get to that light! Just as I passed between the pillars, my bare toes caught on stone. I was falling. Beneath me was light brown stone, and there was a symbol burned into it. It was black and shaped like a T with a circle on top. My right arm crashed into it, and blinding light struck me. A booming voice said, "No!"

And there was pain. Searing light scorched me. My head was exploding. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. There was no air, and my head, my head! I tried to cover my eyes against the blistering light, but I couldn't move my arms. I needed air. I needed—

"You are perfectly safe. Please take slow breaths through your nose." I tried, stars! I tried. I tried to slow down my breath, but everything hurt, and I couldn't move. The voice kept talking to me. "Can you tell me your name?"

My name? My name was turn off that light! I moved my lips and rasped out, "Ryst Nova." My throat felt like I'd swallowed crushed glass.

"Do you know what year it is, Dr. Nova?"

So, a basic neurological exam. I wanted to open my eyes, but I just couldn't. "It's 2733."

"Can you tell me where you are?"

I was obviously somewhere medical, but I wouldn't know until I opened my eyes. "Who are you?"

"This is Dr. Feld Inkson." Inkson, yes, I knew him. Head of neurosurgery.

"Then I'm at Jenson University Hospital."

Memory slammed into me, and my eyes flew open. "Darwin!" I panicked, my heart raced, and I couldn't breathe. I had to run! I had to get out! I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move.

"Dr. Nova, you are completely safe. Your assailant was apprehended and is in custody. You are safe. Can you breathe slowly through your nose?" Yes, oxygen, I needed the oxygen tube. Breathe, Ryst, breathe. Remember your training. You are the master of your forms. Just breathe.

I felt someone squeezing my left hand, and hadn't even realized I'd been crushing someone's hand in mine. I tried to soften my grip. "It's Neal, Ryst. I'm here, and Skyla is on the way. You're doing great. Let's just breathe together slowly. Just like childbirth, in, out, in, out."

I slowly stilled, and the fear turned into agony. I couldn't help it, I sobbed at the pain in my heart. I was so humiliated. I was so stupid. I remembered to breathe. Neal slowly coached me through breathing exercises. I calmed, despite the memories that assailed me.

"How bad is it, Dr. Inkson?" I croaked out.

"Fractured humorous and clavicle on the right. Your arm and collarbone are healing well. No surgery was needed. Skull fracture with subdural hematoma. We had you sedated for three days while the brain bleed slowed. You'll be a guest here for a few more days. May I continue your neurological exam?"

We went through the paces. Everything was good. No neck injury, and no spinal cord issues, thank the stars. I closed my eyes in relief. It felt like my brain was ten times too large for my cranium. "Dr. Nova, there's an Investigator here to see you. I can clear you medically to give your testimony. May I send her in?"

Oh stars, here we go. "Yes, Dr. Inkson. Thank you."

My eyes were still closed when someone new took my left hand. "Ryst, it's Skyla. You're doing great."

"Thanks for being here, Skyla."

I heard a different voice, sharper, and matter-of-fact. "Dr. Nova, this is Investigator Bland. I understand you are in a lot of pain, but have been cleared by medica. Are you able to answer some questions for me?"

"Yes, Inspector."

"Can you tell me how you wound up in this hospital bed?"

I was still kind of wondering that myself. For me, it had only been a few minutes since the attack. For them, it had been days, but I felt like it had just happened. I was still trying to grasp it. "Sunday night I got home from work in the middle of the night. I'm an obgyneca here at Jensen, and I was working in deliveries. I was working until late, and I expected my husband to be asleep when I got home because he wasn't on shift. But, when I got in the apartment and started taking off my coat, the front door opened right behind me. I turned around, and my husband came in. There was this— angry look in his eye, and before I could ask him what was wrong, he grabbed me, and slammed me into the kitchen counter. My head hit the counter top so hard I saw black. But I am a Level 9, so my body automatically reacted. I think I got him in the knee because I heard him yell, but I wasn't seeing clearly. I just ran out the door. I transmitted a voice call to Emergency. I think I said, 'My husband attacked me. I'm in the hallway,' but I was blacking out, so I don't know. And then I woke up here."

"And what is your husband's name, Dr. Nova?"

"Darwin Coolidge," I said with a dark edge to my voice that sounded unfamiliar to me.

"Can you think of any reasons why your husband wanted to hurt you, Dr. Nova?"

"I—. I'm not really sure. I'm trying to think now, Investigator. To me, this happened only a few minutes ago." And my head was killing me, and I couldn't move, and I really, really wanted to pace around the room. "We haven't been married long— only three months. It was a secret wedding, you know? Darwin wanted to keep things private. Just between us. Usually in these secret marriages people plan a big announcement later, so I kept expecting that we'd have something public. But he didn't want to tell anyone. I told Neal and Skyla, of course, but Darwin didn't know that they knew. We really didn't see each other that much. We're both so busy, and he's a cybernetics surgeon here in Jenson. And you know, those surgeries are days long. So we went long periods of time without seeing each other at all."

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"But I was starting to wonder why we couldn't announce our marriage, and he never wanted to go out in public together—didn't want anyone to see us. Anytime I asked him about it, he just changed the subject. Then two nights ago— well, two nights before Sunday, he came home reeking of alcohol. He started kissing me, but I told him I was tired. When I walked away, he grabbed my arm, and I said, 'No, Darwin, wait 'til you sober up.' I'm a Level 9, and he's just a Level 2, so it was easy for me to break his hold. He looked scared, and then mad, and he snarled at me and collapsed on the couch. I was pretty fed up after that and was thinking I had made a huge, huge mistake. I haven't even known him that long. Just a few months."

"And to your knowledge, did your husband use any substances other than alcohol?"

"Substances, you mean, drugs? Pain meds? No, I don't think so. Why, Inspector?"

She nodded. "Drugs, such as DiBest."

"DiBest?" I repeated, sounding incredulous. "But, that's a stimulant, makes your hormones go crazy."

"Yes, and it was coursing through his system when he attacked you. And, Dr. Nova, you did get him in the knee. Snapped his right leg like a twig. Once Emergency had you stabilized, they found him in the apartment. He was treated, and incarcerated. He'll be tried tomorrow morning for attempted murder. You'll never see him again."

Attempted murder. Life sentence on a prison sphere. What a waste of his life.

"Dr. Nova, it's my job here tonight to tell you that since your marriage was before the one-year public records notice, and since you are a victim of attempted murder, you have privileges of confidence. You have the right to Special Counsel before the trial tomorrow morning which can afford you certain privileges of privacy during the trial. What you want the public to know will be up to you. Would you like a Guild-appointed Special Counsel, or do you have your own?"

"The Guild is fine, Inspector." Victim. Of attempted murder. Murder. Victim. The words were like hammers into my pounding skull.

"Then you can expect to hear from them shortly. Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions."

"Thank you, Inspector."

She turned to go, and softened her no-nonsense manner to a much lower voice, "You're a hero, Dr. Nova."

Hero? I was a disaster. I closed my eyes and let sleep take me where pain couldn't reach me.

I needed to pee. My eyes opened, and I couldn't move. Oh yeah, hospital, cast, skull fracture. I started to try and sit up, but Skyla said, "Woah, woah, let me help you."

"I gotta pee—now!"

"Alright, alright. Let's get you up slowly."

I was weak. She was right, but I needed to get on the toilet NOW. "Sky, I gotta go, like, right now."

"Bedpan it is, then," Skyla snarked.

I groaned, "You've gotta be kidding me."

She laughed, "No fun when the shoe's on the other foot, is it?" I managed the indignity of the bed pan, and it had probably been the better choice since everything still hurt, and I was so weak and trembly.

But I needed food, and I needed to start walking. I had to build up my strength again. I needed to train. I needed to move. I needed to go to the dojo and spar. No, I had to rest. Skull fracture. Brain bleed.

Was I thinking clearly? Clearly, I was not thinking.

"So, Skyla, how bad is it? How many people know?"

"Here," she replied, "Drink some water. You sound like you drank caustic poison for breakfast." She was right. I barely croaked out any sounds.

Skyla shook her head, "Not many. No one knows that Darwin was arrested, and no one knows how you got injured. Just the administrators, Dr. Inkson, and Janet." Janet, our boss: Chief of Obgyneca.

Neal walked in carrying a take-out bag. "Soup for the patient. Sandwiches for us. You look fantastic, Ryst."

"Thanks, Neal. You're a gem in the night sky." Soup—eat soup. Left handed. I could do that. Could I do that?

"Um, I think I need a bib." They laughed, but I couldn't laugh yet. My head still hurt too much.

I managed the soup pretty well, and the warm broth felt really good on my throat. I was hungry too. I wanted more. "So, not many people know that I married Darwin, then he tried to kill me, and now he's going to spend the rest of his life working in a manufacturing plant on a prison sphere?"

"No, pretty much no one knows," Skyla answered. "Janet told Investigation that we were your closest friends, so they interviewed us. I told them about the secret wedding, and that you'd told me that you didn't think Darwin was who he seemed to be when he was at work."

Neal chimed in, "Yeah, I told them that you didn't want to keep your marriage a secret much longer, but we were really shocked that you wound up like this. And Ryst, he planned this ahead of time. He really wanted to hurt you."

"Yeah, the DiBest. And he ambushed me. He knew the only way to take me out was to ambush me with an overpowered surprise attack. Otherwise, he'd never have laid a finger on me. But why? Why throw his whole life away? For what? To punish me for refusing to have sex with him?"

Neal shook his head, "No, no, it's more than that. It's that whole control thing. To put you back in your place— do what I say, when I say, or else. It's like— men like that can't handle being told 'no.'"

"Ryst," Skyla said gently, "Did he do that alot? Kissing you when you didn't want to be kissed? Grabbing you?" I knew what she was doing. All three of us were obgynecas. We were trained in how to question patients about partner violence and unwanted sexual advances.

"Stars, Skyla, no. I'm still trying to make sense of this. It's like it just happened a few minutes ago. I'm still trying to believe that Darwin took DiBest and attacked me. Really, though, how much time did we actually spend together? We worked weird hours. We weren't home together that much, and he never wanted to go out in public. That should have been a clue. But I know how it is to come home tired and just want bang one out and crash to sleep. We had fun, passionate sex. He liked it that I was a Level 9, and I like things rough. But now that I think about it, it wasn't ever gentle. There was never any tenderness with us. It was always just wild; up against the wall."

Neal cleared his throat, "Soooo, was it a masochistic kind of thing, the Level 9, Level 2 power dynamics? Like, did he want to be dominated, to feel like someone was stronger than him? Was that part of this?"

I sighed, and I tried to think. It was so hard to think with my skull splitting open and feeling loopy and out of touch. Was power dynamics part of it?

"I don't know, Neal. I just know that he liked it that I was— assertive. The stronger I came on, the better. He always talked about how hot it was that I was Level 9." And not that I was hot, but that my Jendo rank was hot. Ouch. That stung a bit. "So, maybe I was a trinket that he liked to have on his shelf. I don't know. But obviously, I made some mistakes."

And I needed to get my head on straight because I was completely unable to judge who was good for me and who was not.

Skyla said flatly, "Ryst Nova, this is not your fault."

"No, I know that. I know, Sky. But I did marry him. And I didn't even question the sanity of it. So, I messed up. I need to figure myself out, because I am never, never doing this"— I waived at myself— "again."

And the water works started. I didn't even know why I was crying. Because everything hurt. Because I wasn't going to be able to work for months. No catching babies. No surgery. Just endless weeks of doing nothing but thinking about how stupid, stupid, stupid I was.

The breath of life becomes words on a page.

Suggestion: Keep a journal next to you. Write down the questions you are asking when you read this book.

- Within and Without: A Tindin Journey With Erotica

I was floating, floating, and there was nothing. No eyes, no arms, no feet. Just nothing, always nothing. Something was pricking me. Pinching me. Pinching. Pinching. Harder. I gasped awake. I was in bed. In my new apartment. The bathroom light was on. It was dark outside. I was ok. I was breathing. I was breathing. In—out. Just like childbirth. In—out, in— out. I was okay. I was okay. I was alone.

My eyes fluttered open. There was light coming in the windows. My head screamed at me. It was always screaming at me. I closed my eyes again. Ten weeks. Ten weeks post-hospitalization, and my head didn't stop hurting. My arm was great. My shoulder was great.

I was trying to rebuild my strength, but my head always felt like there was an axe lodged in it. My brain scans were clear. The bones were healed. No fracture. No long-term damage. By medica ruling, I was healthy and hale. There was no reason for the constant, splitting headache.

I still wasn't working. I wasn't really interested in it. Everything felt so overwhelming. It was just too noisy everywhere. The city was so loud. People were so loud. It seemed like the whole world was screaming.

Was anybody listening?

I drifted again. That happened often. Wake up. Close eyes. Drift. I was a leaf on a smooth lake. I floated. I was calm. I was crying. Tears wet my pillow. It was a relief to let them fall.

Journaling takes nothing and turns it into something.

We shape the breath of life and give it form.

Breath becomes words on a page where unseen can be seen.

- Within and Without: A Tindin Journey With Erotica

Twelve weeks. Twelve weeks post hospitalization. I was in the dojo. My first time back. I wasn't sparring, so I stood chachin. Breathed my focus. I was the master of my forms. I moved. I no longer thought. I was the form. The form moved me. Bend. Reach. Kick. Slide. Punch. Swivel. Move. Flow. Focus. The form moved me.

And I was free for a little while. Lost in the forms. It felt good. It felt like me again. I was in charge. I was in control. I knew what I was doing. I felt no pain. I noticed no sweat. I was Level 9, the pinnacle of Starlend Jendo martial arts. I was the forms. And everything else fell away.

I slept easily that night. Finally— a respite from the constant overwhelming brain pressure. It was a relief to lie down in bed and not feel pain, just satisfaction and a pleasant drowsiness from the work out.

There was light. I got up for a glass of water. No, I was in water. Water up to my neck. Cold. It was cold. I was cold and there was water everywhere. I was so tired, and I couldn't move. "Help," I tried to say, but my voice wouldn't work. "Help."

My eyes popped open, and I gasped for breath. Everything was so loud. My neighbor was home, and I could hear her thinking about getting cigarettes. She was angry.

Stop! Stop! That wasn't real. I didn't hear anything. I was just tired. I was just traumatized, that was all. I would be fine. I would breathe. I would get up and move through the Jendo forms. My mind would be quiet again. It would be okay.

I just, I just had to, I just had to— I wrapped my arms around my head. The noise was too much. I couldn't do it anymore.

"Help! Help me! Oh stars! What is wrong with me? Why is it so loud all the time? Why is everybody screaming at me? Help me, please. Please, I don't know, please. Is there anyone? Can anyone hear me? I'm really alone. And I'm scared, and I don't know what to do. It's so loud."

I whispered, "It's so loud, please. Please help me."

And I fell still. Calm.

I needed to get somewhere quiet. There were quiet places left in the Known Cosmos, right? I needed to get away. Away from the bad memories and the noise in my brain. Far, far away from the city. Somewhere peaceful. I opened up my pad.

Search: "rare vacation spheres Andromeda Galaxy."

Vitrax 5: treehouses on islands. No.

Lure 17: every robot you could dream of. Pass.

Shurwinn: Land of Oases.

Huh. Shurwinn. Now that would be a getaway. Best chocolate in the Andromeda Galaxy. I'd never been off sphere before, and a trip to Shurwinn would be a heck of a way to start my extraplanetary adventure. I had to check it out. I thought you could only go for a short period as a tourist. I scanned through the information… Yes, a two-week Visitor Acceptance. Sign the paperwork.

Shurwinn was like nothing else in the Nine Galaxies. No one knew much about Shurwinn. It was an isolationist sphere. They allowed some off spheres to visit, but you had to sign an agreement to never discuss Shurwinn outside of Shurwinn. No transmitting photos or videos. No talking about what you saw. No articles on your stream.

They wanted to be private. They were secretive and reclusive. Their goods were prized throughout Andromeda. Everything they exported sold out quickly. Chocolate, coffee, Marion berries, lemons, wood, sandstone, and crafts. They marketed their exports as rare Shurwinn items, and everyone from fine-dining chefs to stone masons wanted their products. You didn't want your business to fall afoul of Shurwinn tempers, so you obeyed their rules.

You didn't talk about Shurwinn. You let them be.

I could rent a house, and then the rental owner would act as Guarantor for my Visitor Acceptance Application. There would be recon on me, and if I was approved, I could spend two weeks in Shurwinn. I found a cute little house—they called it a casita—with a garden on the outskirts of the smallest oasis, rented it for two weeks, signed my agreement to the Shurwinn Code, and completed my Application.

Determined, I started packing my trunk.

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