Chaotic Futures, page 5
Mystic replied.
Miranda and Z furiously shared thoughts. They’d arrived at the same conclusion but were loath to offer it.
Every conclave member heard Red’s dark laughter. he sent.
With mere seconds to spare, Mystic steered the traveler at the shuttle. She reached out a hand, and Red grasped it.
Mystic sent.
Red didn’t have time to reply.
As the traveler slammed into the shuttle, Mystic triggered the beam weapon.
Shuttle and traveler disappeared in an enormous release of energy. What little was left burned up in the atmosphere on the way to the ground.
4: Plebiscite
NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM
HUMAN HOME WORLD
Claudia Hoffing learned that the new great conclave ship had entered the system. Excitedly, she linked to the ship only to learn that it wasn’t the Liberation.
Peña sent.
Claudia replied, chuckling.
Peña sent, knowing who it was that Claudia had hoped to see.
Claudia replied.
Peña explained.
Claudia offered.
Peña laughed softly. she replied.
Claudia sent.
Peña sent.
Claudia sent, preferring to change the subject.
Peña replied, laughing heartily.
The sister’s laughter was infectious, and Claudia chuckled in return. Both of them knew that the new ship held many more people than would normally board an Axis-ship to visit the outer worlds.
Peña inquired.
Claudia replied.
Peña asked.
Claudia replied.
Sven Nilsson, who’d been listening, was cautioned by Peña to say nothing. As it was, Peña and he had different ideas.
After the call, the pair dropped planetside for the scheduled meeting with many influential financiers and bankers. The meeting was held at one of the most exclusive clubs on Naiad.
Sven was offered a drink, but he chose not to take one. He didn’t want to appear as anything more than an associate of Peña.
“You asked for this meeting, Peña,” a banker said. “We assume it’s about the plebiscite. As individuals, we don’t have a wide enough personal network to swing the vote.”
“And here I gave humans more credit than that,” Sven replied dismissively. “Peña, I say we gather the sisters and take our business elsewhere.”
Peña hadn’t envisioned the conversation starting this way, but she trusted Sven. Now she waited to see what direction the exchange would go.
“What business?” a financier asked.
“Have any of you done the calculations on the sisters?” Sven asked. “Or have you stayed warm and comfortable on Naiad?”
“Let’s cool this conversation down,” a second banker urged. “Explain your calculations to us, Sven.”
Sven took a breath and released it. To some degree, it was an act. On the other hand, he didn’t like these men underestimating the sisters’ value. “Take eight hundred sisters who work around the chronometer at their quality output. You’ve got the equivalent of about sixteen thousand human hours per week.”
“I would calculate it closer to twenty-one thousand human hours,” Peña added quietly, as if she was adjusting an insignificant figure.
“That’s just the start,” Sven continued. “Who is on the other side of the Helgart anomaly?”
When the bankers and financiers struggled offering terms, Sven laughed. “Aliens, unknown worlds, space?” he queried. “That’s the best you can do?” After shaking his head, he added, “On the other side of that anomaly is opportunity. Thousands of races who don’t have conclave technology. That’s technology that the sisters can build and deliver.”
The lights went on in the minds of Sven’s audience.
“Do you have contracts?” a banker asked.
“Why would the sisters want contracts here?” Sven asked. “They don’t have any rights in this area of space, but they do if they immigrate to Helgart.”
“If you were granted equal rights by the plebiscite, what projects would you create?” a financier asked, sitting on the edge of his chair.
“Based on the reports from conclave members who’ve visited many worlds, there would be a huge demand for Jatouche tanks,” Peña replied.
“The repair medical procedures,” the financier surmised.
“Precisely,” Peña replied. “The Imperium mercenaries, the Radags, have caused numerous injuries among their own population. The protectors have informed me that hundreds of Jatouche tanks could be valuable for a limited time.”
“A limited time?” a banker asked dubiously.
“Imagine two thousand worlds in need of Jatouche tanks for a limited time,” Peña suggested. “The majority could be leased to a race, with a hundred bought for long-term medical services.”
“Who would be your competitors?” a financier queried.
“The conclave,” Sven rapidly replied. Then he winked at the well-dressed men. “It would be Commander Tocknicka who would make the decision.”
“We don’t understand the politics of that statement,” a banker remarked.
“It would take too long to explain the subtleties,” Sven responded.
“How about local projects?” a financier asked.
“Who has been to Delhart?” Peña asked.
One hand was raised, and the financier said, “I made the trip once, and I vowed to never go back.”
“The Delhart CEO has expressed a desire to have a traveler landing pad,” Peña explained.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” the financier pushed back.
“It does if you’re talking to sisters, who are SADEs,” Sven challenged. Then he shared with Peña a short vid they’d considered.
Peña projected the data from her palm holo-vid.
The bankers and financiers watched an animated vid. A traveler landed on a pad, which seemed to float above the shuttleport dome. A slender column led from the pad into the dome.
“How?” a banker inquired incredulously.
“Grav technology,” Sven replied. “All things move between levels within HS ships by grav technology. It’s the same technology used in most conclave ships.”
“And you can build this floating pad?” the banker queried, as he regarded Peña.
“Easily,” Peña replied.
“Sers, at this time, we aren’t seeking your funding,” Sven interrupted. “We’re trying to show you that the sisters can be tremendous assets to the economy of Naiad space. Think of the revenue they’ll accrue to their enterprises, especially if they’re supplying material to the worlds that the conclave frees. While you’re thinking about that, I would recommend you reach out to your network and make your opinions known.”
The bankers and the financiers would have loved to hear more, but Peña and Sven smiled, thanked them for their time, and left.
Peña shared.
Sven returned, mirth wrapping his thought.
Peña queried.
Sven assured her.
The pair waited for the council to pass the plebiscite measure, which it did as Claudia had assured them. Even Fillery Partus had voted for the measure. In her mind, it would hold the sisters accountable to Naiad law.
Immediately, Diana Breneman, the comtech director, ordered the opening of the voting registry. Afterward, the announcement was sent across Naiad and via the anomalies to every mining world, outpost, and ship. Every eligible voter had thirty days to communicate their decision.
The following cycle, Peña and Sven walked into the Truth Matters building to meet with the four partners. Peña’s lips tweaked in a slight smile. The appointments with the various groups that they would speak with to encourage the passage of the plebiscite were entirely Sven’s doing. He knew Naiads.
While the partners were happy to see their visitors, they missed Samuel. That was until they discovered that Peña carried Samuel’s memories. It was evident in the way that she communicated with each partner.
“How can we help you?” Brandon Burke inquired.
“You do know that we’ve already published two articles favoring the passage of the plebiscite, correct?” Oscar Hoffing quickly inserted.
“We’ve read the articles,” Sven replied. “We thank you for the position your publication has taken. However, you might want to try a different tack.”
“What did you have in mind?” Gemma Burke asked.
“Your present stance has been about the sisters’ natures, and it’s admirable,” Sven replied. “But had you considered the advancements the sisters could offer?”
“I offered that avenue, but my colleagues thought it might frighten people away,” Simona Yewall replied.
“Assuredly, the implants and other such technology are touchy points, but what about things like apps that run on readers?” Sven said.
“Violet is working with the university students now,” Oscar Hoffing pointed out.
“You should focus your article on the possibilities for the general population,” Peña said. Suddenly, she had the partners’ attention. “Think of the adoption path.”
“Give us more details,” Brandon encouraged.
“What would you like your devices to be able to do?” Peña encouraged.
Immediately, the partners offered numerous suggestions.
Peña laughed and held up her hands to halt the deluge.
“But how much would one of these apps cost?” Oscar inquired.
“In this case, the sisters would adopt the SADEs’ preferred habit,” Peña replied. “Anything that supports human-to-device or human-to-human communications will be created for free.”
The partners’ mouths fell open. They knew they had a tremendous lead for the evening’s article.
“On another tech subject,” Sven said, “what projects could Naiad use that would aid the general population?”
“For free?” Gemma asked dubiously.
Peña chuckled. “Sisters can build projects most humans have difficulty imagining. However, the period of us working on major projects for free has come to an end. We hope to become citizens, who would wish to be fairly compensated, except in special cases as I’ve just mentioned.”
“Do you have any projects in mind?” Brandon asked.
“I’ve a different idea for you,” Sven said. “How about you ask your readers to think about what Naiad could use? You might select some of the best suggestions and have live conversations with those individuals.”
“We don’t broadcast,” Simona pointed out.
“But would you like to be able to do that?” Peña replied, adding a wink. Then she cued Sven, and the pair rose together, wished the partners a good day, and left.
Behind the pair, the partners glanced at one another.
“Have we been played?” Oscar asked.
“Yes,” Brandon replied. “But in a good way.”
Then Gemma started assigning subjects to the other partners, and they parted like leaves in a breeze to work on their articles.
Peña sent.
Sven inquired. He’d waited until the elevator doors had opened on the lobby floor to be able to escape Peña’s response.
Months ago, when Sven began to tease Peña, she’d replied via her comm with something tart and witty. Then one evening, he found that she’d spun in front of him. When he bumped into her, she’d sent, which made him laugh. After that, their banter had increased, and each sought a way to engage the other.
While Peña and Sven made their way through meeting after meeting, cycle after cycle, Diana Breneman checked on the comtech registry.
By law, Diana was prohibited from reviewing the results. However, she did have the right and obligation to check on the volume. This gave her the basis for a report to Commandant Paul van Dysen and Councilor Claudia Hoffing to communicate the progress of responses.
In the office, Diana used her device’s security access to enter the registry and display the ratio of the responses to the potential voters. She was stunned by what she saw, and she ran the query of the registry again. When the same percentage appeared, she moved to the office of her assistant, who had gone to run some errands, and she repeated the exercise.
Then Diana returned to her office and queried separately for the percentage of returns for Naiad and off world. Afterward, she called the commandant and the councilor.
“I’ve an initial report on the responses for the two of you,” Diana said.
“A little early, isn’t it?” Paul van Dysen interrupted.
“I was doing my due diligence,” Diana said tartly. “I wouldn’t have contacted you if the results weren’t surprising.”
Claudia was happy that it wasn’t a face-to-face conversation. The commandant would have seen her smile at Diana’s remarks. “Please continue, Diana,” she encouraged.
“We’ve an eighty-three percent return for Naiad and sixty-seven for off world,” Diana reported. “At the rate that comtech is receiving responses, I would think that we would pass ninety percent of all eligible voters in another two cycles.”
“That’s the threshold on which Diana will be able to query the plebiscite’s status,” Paul said. He’d stated the obvious, but neither woman chose to make a comment.
“Keep us apprised of the numbers,” Claudia said. Then she ended her part of the call.
“Did you have something to say, Commandant?” Diana asked when he remained linked to her.
“Probably not,” Paul said, and he closed his connection to Diana.
Diana briefly mused about the numbers. She’d expected the plebiscite motion to pass the council. Afterward, she believed that citizens would pass it, but she had no expectation of the margin. At the rate of returns, she had an inkling of what the responses would show. On that note, she schooled her face. She didn’t want her expression to intimate what she’d found.
Two cycles later, various elements reached their peak.
Peña and Sven had finished their meetings, and the individuals whom they had spoken to had exhausted their circles of contacts. TM’s articles had flooded the citizens’ devices, which had galvanized many to vote who had procrastinated.
Finally, Diana ran the numbers again. The total returns had reached ninety-three-point-five. She ensured her office was secure, and she set up a conference call and waited for the two participants to reply. When they did, she relayed that the trigger point had been surpassed.
“I wish to hear the results,” Paul said, signaling his official permission for Diana to investigate the registry.
“As do I,” Claudia added.
With a few taps on the device, Diana pulled up the results. “The plebiscite has returned overwhelming support for the council’s proposal,” she said.
“By what margin?” Claudia inquired.
“Approvals surpass denials by forty-three percent,” Diana replied.
“I’d say the council can announce this finding, Commandant. Wouldn’t you agree?” Claudia inquired.
“I’m a little amazed at the result. I thought it would be closer,” Paul replied. “But, yes, you have my agreement, Councilor.”
Early the following morning, the complete results were issued by the council, and the news spread quickly.
Sven received the announcement directly from comtech via his implant. He wanted to race next door to Peña’s room, but he chose to clean up and dress. As he reached her room’s door, it slid open. He didn’t have to ask if she’d heard the council’s message. She wore a broad grin.
Sven saw Peña mirror the warmth seen in a human’s eyes. As the door slid shut behind him, he was drawn close to her. he sent.
Peña replied. Sven stood directly in front of her, and her kernel was filled with anticipatory thoughts.
Sven replied.
Peña laughed softly. She employed every human mannerism she knew to maintain the intimate moment with Sven.
Sven teased.
Peña sent, light shining in her eyes.
Sven threw his last reservations aside, and he extended his arms to Peña. She gently molded her avatar against his body.
For Peña, no other male, SADE or human, had ever appealed to her. Most individuals of either race were wary of her as a first-gen sister, but Sven had withheld judgment. When he decided she could be an asset to those he represented in the Axis Crossing union, he’d wholeheartedly embraced her help. Later, when they’d worked closely together, she had earned his respect. Throughout their relationship, he’d never assumed anything from her. In all things but intimacy, they were partners.
Miranda and Z furiously shared thoughts. They’d arrived at the same conclusion but were loath to offer it.
Every conclave member heard Red’s dark laughter.
With mere seconds to spare, Mystic steered the traveler at the shuttle. She reached out a hand, and Red grasped it.
Red didn’t have time to reply.
As the traveler slammed into the shuttle, Mystic triggered the beam weapon.
Shuttle and traveler disappeared in an enormous release of energy. What little was left burned up in the atmosphere on the way to the ground.
4: Plebiscite
NAIAD, GELUS SYSTEM
HUMAN HOME WORLD
Claudia Hoffing learned that the new great conclave ship had entered the system. Excitedly, she linked to the ship only to learn that it wasn’t the Liberation.
Peña laughed softly.
The sister’s laughter was infectious, and Claudia chuckled in return. Both of them knew that the new ship held many more people than would normally board an Axis-ship to visit the outer worlds.
Sven Nilsson, who’d been listening, was cautioned by Peña to say nothing. As it was, Peña and he had different ideas.
After the call, the pair dropped planetside for the scheduled meeting with many influential financiers and bankers. The meeting was held at one of the most exclusive clubs on Naiad.
Sven was offered a drink, but he chose not to take one. He didn’t want to appear as anything more than an associate of Peña.
“You asked for this meeting, Peña,” a banker said. “We assume it’s about the plebiscite. As individuals, we don’t have a wide enough personal network to swing the vote.”
“And here I gave humans more credit than that,” Sven replied dismissively. “Peña, I say we gather the sisters and take our business elsewhere.”
Peña hadn’t envisioned the conversation starting this way, but she trusted Sven. Now she waited to see what direction the exchange would go.
“What business?” a financier asked.
“Have any of you done the calculations on the sisters?” Sven asked. “Or have you stayed warm and comfortable on Naiad?”
“Let’s cool this conversation down,” a second banker urged. “Explain your calculations to us, Sven.”
Sven took a breath and released it. To some degree, it was an act. On the other hand, he didn’t like these men underestimating the sisters’ value. “Take eight hundred sisters who work around the chronometer at their quality output. You’ve got the equivalent of about sixteen thousand human hours per week.”
“I would calculate it closer to twenty-one thousand human hours,” Peña added quietly, as if she was adjusting an insignificant figure.
“That’s just the start,” Sven continued. “Who is on the other side of the Helgart anomaly?”
When the bankers and financiers struggled offering terms, Sven laughed. “Aliens, unknown worlds, space?” he queried. “That’s the best you can do?” After shaking his head, he added, “On the other side of that anomaly is opportunity. Thousands of races who don’t have conclave technology. That’s technology that the sisters can build and deliver.”
The lights went on in the minds of Sven’s audience.
“Do you have contracts?” a banker asked.
“Why would the sisters want contracts here?” Sven asked. “They don’t have any rights in this area of space, but they do if they immigrate to Helgart.”
“If you were granted equal rights by the plebiscite, what projects would you create?” a financier asked, sitting on the edge of his chair.
“Based on the reports from conclave members who’ve visited many worlds, there would be a huge demand for Jatouche tanks,” Peña replied.
“The repair medical procedures,” the financier surmised.
“Precisely,” Peña replied. “The Imperium mercenaries, the Radags, have caused numerous injuries among their own population. The protectors have informed me that hundreds of Jatouche tanks could be valuable for a limited time.”
“A limited time?” a banker asked dubiously.
“Imagine two thousand worlds in need of Jatouche tanks for a limited time,” Peña suggested. “The majority could be leased to a race, with a hundred bought for long-term medical services.”
“Who would be your competitors?” a financier queried.
“The conclave,” Sven rapidly replied. Then he winked at the well-dressed men. “It would be Commander Tocknicka who would make the decision.”
“We don’t understand the politics of that statement,” a banker remarked.
“It would take too long to explain the subtleties,” Sven responded.
“How about local projects?” a financier asked.
“Who has been to Delhart?” Peña asked.
One hand was raised, and the financier said, “I made the trip once, and I vowed to never go back.”
“The Delhart CEO has expressed a desire to have a traveler landing pad,” Peña explained.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” the financier pushed back.
“It does if you’re talking to sisters, who are SADEs,” Sven challenged. Then he shared with Peña a short vid they’d considered.
Peña projected the data from her palm holo-vid.
The bankers and financiers watched an animated vid. A traveler landed on a pad, which seemed to float above the shuttleport dome. A slender column led from the pad into the dome.
“How?” a banker inquired incredulously.
“Grav technology,” Sven replied. “All things move between levels within HS ships by grav technology. It’s the same technology used in most conclave ships.”
“And you can build this floating pad?” the banker queried, as he regarded Peña.
“Easily,” Peña replied.
“Sers, at this time, we aren’t seeking your funding,” Sven interrupted. “We’re trying to show you that the sisters can be tremendous assets to the economy of Naiad space. Think of the revenue they’ll accrue to their enterprises, especially if they’re supplying material to the worlds that the conclave frees. While you’re thinking about that, I would recommend you reach out to your network and make your opinions known.”
The bankers and the financiers would have loved to hear more, but Peña and Sven smiled, thanked them for their time, and left.
The pair waited for the council to pass the plebiscite measure, which it did as Claudia had assured them. Even Fillery Partus had voted for the measure. In her mind, it would hold the sisters accountable to Naiad law.
Immediately, Diana Breneman, the comtech director, ordered the opening of the voting registry. Afterward, the announcement was sent across Naiad and via the anomalies to every mining world, outpost, and ship. Every eligible voter had thirty days to communicate their decision.
The following cycle, Peña and Sven walked into the Truth Matters building to meet with the four partners. Peña’s lips tweaked in a slight smile. The appointments with the various groups that they would speak with to encourage the passage of the plebiscite were entirely Sven’s doing. He knew Naiads.
While the partners were happy to see their visitors, they missed Samuel. That was until they discovered that Peña carried Samuel’s memories. It was evident in the way that she communicated with each partner.
“How can we help you?” Brandon Burke inquired.
“You do know that we’ve already published two articles favoring the passage of the plebiscite, correct?” Oscar Hoffing quickly inserted.
“We’ve read the articles,” Sven replied. “We thank you for the position your publication has taken. However, you might want to try a different tack.”
“What did you have in mind?” Gemma Burke asked.
“Your present stance has been about the sisters’ natures, and it’s admirable,” Sven replied. “But had you considered the advancements the sisters could offer?”
“I offered that avenue, but my colleagues thought it might frighten people away,” Simona Yewall replied.
“Assuredly, the implants and other such technology are touchy points, but what about things like apps that run on readers?” Sven said.
“Violet is working with the university students now,” Oscar Hoffing pointed out.
“You should focus your article on the possibilities for the general population,” Peña said. Suddenly, she had the partners’ attention. “Think of the adoption path.”
“Give us more details,” Brandon encouraged.
“What would you like your devices to be able to do?” Peña encouraged.
Immediately, the partners offered numerous suggestions.
Peña laughed and held up her hands to halt the deluge.
“But how much would one of these apps cost?” Oscar inquired.
“In this case, the sisters would adopt the SADEs’ preferred habit,” Peña replied. “Anything that supports human-to-device or human-to-human communications will be created for free.”
The partners’ mouths fell open. They knew they had a tremendous lead for the evening’s article.
“On another tech subject,” Sven said, “what projects could Naiad use that would aid the general population?”
“For free?” Gemma asked dubiously.
Peña chuckled. “Sisters can build projects most humans have difficulty imagining. However, the period of us working on major projects for free has come to an end. We hope to become citizens, who would wish to be fairly compensated, except in special cases as I’ve just mentioned.”
“Do you have any projects in mind?” Brandon asked.
“I’ve a different idea for you,” Sven said. “How about you ask your readers to think about what Naiad could use? You might select some of the best suggestions and have live conversations with those individuals.”
“We don’t broadcast,” Simona pointed out.
“But would you like to be able to do that?” Peña replied, adding a wink. Then she cued Sven, and the pair rose together, wished the partners a good day, and left.
Behind the pair, the partners glanced at one another.
“Have we been played?” Oscar asked.
“Yes,” Brandon replied. “But in a good way.”
Then Gemma started assigning subjects to the other partners, and they parted like leaves in a breeze to work on their articles.
Peña sent.
Months ago, when Sven began to tease Peña, she’d replied via her comm with something tart and witty. Then one evening, he found that she’d spun in front of him. When he bumped into her, she’d sent,
While Peña and Sven made their way through meeting after meeting, cycle after cycle, Diana Breneman checked on the comtech registry.
By law, Diana was prohibited from reviewing the results. However, she did have the right and obligation to check on the volume. This gave her the basis for a report to Commandant Paul van Dysen and Councilor Claudia Hoffing to communicate the progress of responses.
In the office, Diana used her device’s security access to enter the registry and display the ratio of the responses to the potential voters. She was stunned by what she saw, and she ran the query of the registry again. When the same percentage appeared, she moved to the office of her assistant, who had gone to run some errands, and she repeated the exercise.
Then Diana returned to her office and queried separately for the percentage of returns for Naiad and off world. Afterward, she called the commandant and the councilor.
“I’ve an initial report on the responses for the two of you,” Diana said.
“A little early, isn’t it?” Paul van Dysen interrupted.
“I was doing my due diligence,” Diana said tartly. “I wouldn’t have contacted you if the results weren’t surprising.”
Claudia was happy that it wasn’t a face-to-face conversation. The commandant would have seen her smile at Diana’s remarks. “Please continue, Diana,” she encouraged.
“We’ve an eighty-three percent return for Naiad and sixty-seven for off world,” Diana reported. “At the rate that comtech is receiving responses, I would think that we would pass ninety percent of all eligible voters in another two cycles.”
“That’s the threshold on which Diana will be able to query the plebiscite’s status,” Paul said. He’d stated the obvious, but neither woman chose to make a comment.
“Keep us apprised of the numbers,” Claudia said. Then she ended her part of the call.
“Did you have something to say, Commandant?” Diana asked when he remained linked to her.
“Probably not,” Paul said, and he closed his connection to Diana.
Diana briefly mused about the numbers. She’d expected the plebiscite motion to pass the council. Afterward, she believed that citizens would pass it, but she had no expectation of the margin. At the rate of returns, she had an inkling of what the responses would show. On that note, she schooled her face. She didn’t want her expression to intimate what she’d found.
Two cycles later, various elements reached their peak.
Peña and Sven had finished their meetings, and the individuals whom they had spoken to had exhausted their circles of contacts. TM’s articles had flooded the citizens’ devices, which had galvanized many to vote who had procrastinated.
Finally, Diana ran the numbers again. The total returns had reached ninety-three-point-five. She ensured her office was secure, and she set up a conference call and waited for the two participants to reply. When they did, she relayed that the trigger point had been surpassed.
“I wish to hear the results,” Paul said, signaling his official permission for Diana to investigate the registry.
“As do I,” Claudia added.
With a few taps on the device, Diana pulled up the results. “The plebiscite has returned overwhelming support for the council’s proposal,” she said.
“By what margin?” Claudia inquired.
“Approvals surpass denials by forty-three percent,” Diana replied.
“I’d say the council can announce this finding, Commandant. Wouldn’t you agree?” Claudia inquired.
“I’m a little amazed at the result. I thought it would be closer,” Paul replied. “But, yes, you have my agreement, Councilor.”
Early the following morning, the complete results were issued by the council, and the news spread quickly.
Sven received the announcement directly from comtech via his implant. He wanted to race next door to Peña’s room, but he chose to clean up and dress. As he reached her room’s door, it slid open. He didn’t have to ask if she’d heard the council’s message. She wore a broad grin.
Sven saw Peña mirror the warmth seen in a human’s eyes. As the door slid shut behind him, he was drawn close to her.
Peña replied. Sven stood directly in front of her, and her kernel was filled with anticipatory thoughts.
Peña laughed softly. She employed every human mannerism she knew to maintain the intimate moment with Sven.
Peña sent, light shining in her eyes.
Sven threw his last reservations aside, and he extended his arms to Peña. She gently molded her avatar against his body.
For Peña, no other male, SADE or human, had ever appealed to her. Most individuals of either race were wary of her as a first-gen sister, but Sven had withheld judgment. When he decided she could be an asset to those he represented in the Axis Crossing union, he’d wholeheartedly embraced her help. Later, when they’d worked closely together, she had earned his respect. Throughout their relationship, he’d never assumed anything from her. In all things but intimacy, they were partners.
