Page 53 of Stars in Umbra (The Sable Riders #8)
Bound By Light and Legacy
MOLAN
I n the hush of early morning, the first pale threads of sunlight slipped through the terrace curtains, brushing against the sheets where Rina lay tangled in sleep.
Mo sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet planted on the cool floor, studying her.
Her breath was slow and steady.
A hand curled under her cheek, and his gaze traced over the crease between her brows, yet a soft smile on her face as if caught in an intense dream.
She was going to be the mother of his child.
The thought struck him anew, as it had through the night.
He inhaled, as his chest overflowed with gratitude.
She now trusted him with her heart, her future, her fears.
She’d also offered him a kind of love he never thought he deserved.
Now, she carried his baby.
Mo swallowed hard, the weight of that truth anchoring him to this place, to this purpose. He had blood on his hands, a history paved with shadows.
But for her and for the life they created, he needed to stand tall in the light and do what was right by her, by them.
Even if it came at a cost.
He slid from bed, grabbing a shirt from the nearby chair.
As he dressed, he opened a neural link.
Mirage, I would like to have a private meeting, just the four of us: Kainan, Zane, you, and me.
I understand, Mirage replied, her voice soft with knowing. The boardroom will be clear in twenty.
He left Rina a message telling her he’d have a matter taken care of for the day and the he’d be back by evening.
Mo cast one last glance at Rina. Her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake.
He stepped out, in a silent prowl, letting the door hiss shut behind him.
Sable HQ’s upper floors were quiet this early.
He moved like a shadow through the halls until he reached the conference room.
The expansive glass windows overlooked the sprawl of Eden II’s capital, still dusted in the soft hues of dawn. Mirage was already seated at the table and greeted him with a smile.
Kainan and Zane followed soon after, dressed in civilian clothes, their expressions sober but curious.
Mo didn’t sit. He stood at the head of the long polished surface, fingers resting on its carved edge like it might steady him.
‘I asked you here,’ he said, ‘because it’s time I stop running from what I was and what I’ve done. You both need to know all of it, then we must discuss how justice is served.’
He exhaled, then the flood began.
He recounted every Stygian mission Caidan Thrall sent him on, each black contract, all sanctioned kills, and any sabotage he’d been programmed to execute.
He shared names, places, and dates.
‘Some of the targets, I now know, were innocent. Others were political fodder, threats neutralized not for safety, but for convenience.’
Mirage cross-checked what he divulged and recorded the session.
‘I didn’t remember most of it, but not until the last few weeks,’ he went on. ‘With the node no longer suppressing my mind, the memories are back.’
Zane leaned back, eyes narrowed with concern.
Mirage’s gaze was unreadable.
Kainan, his arms folded, studied him with quiet, chimeric stillness.
‘What do you need, Mo? The Riders have forgiven you, brother, and we support you, but I sense it is not enough.’
‘I don’t require absolution from anyone else other than my Rider family, but I need justice,’ Mo said. ‘Whatever punishment you deem fit, I’ll take it. I can’t walk beside Rina with this poison in my soul. Not if I don’t own it.’
Kainan shook his head with an inhale. ‘You were under the control of a neural node, Mo. You got manipulated against your will.’
Mo’s jaw tightened. ‘It still happened. The blood of many is on my hands.’
Kainan studied him, exchanged glances with Mirage and Zane, and appeared to be conducting a private mental conversation with them.
After a beat, he sighed and capitulated. ‘Fine, kaka , but this is bigger than us. We need to seek the wisdom of others who can deliver an objective outcome.’
Later that day, a closed tribunal convened, consisting of the Sable Group’s leadership and Eden II’s Council members, with Elder J’Kuu Kabi presiding.
Years ago, the woman mentored Kainan and lived through the original uprising of Eden II’s sovereign peoples.
She was warm, fair, and no-nonsense, and Mo relaxed with her at the helm of the hearing.
Mo stood before the gathered elders and retold the truth.
His voice never wavered. He didn’t ask for leniency. He didn’t expect forgiveness.
When he was done, he stepped out of the room and waited with Kainan and Zane.
The pair stayed with him, never leaving his side, further cementing their devotion to him.
‘The deliberation will be lengthy and complex,’ Zane proffered. ‘They’ll debate ethics, consent, and responsibility. Plus, they’ll examine the evidence Mirage compiled on the neural implants and the years of mind-control manipulation.’
Much later, after endless cups of kahawa and lunch in the waiting room, the tribunal called Mo and his fellow Riders back inside.
In the end, it was Elder J’Kuu who rose, her silken robes sweeping around her as she addressed the room.
‘Molan, you are not the sum of what was done to you,’ the elder said. ‘You are the entirety of what you do next. We absolve you of formal guilt, Mo, son of Sulfiqar, because your heart carries more judgment than any sentence we will pass.’
Mo nodded, throat thick, shoulders lifting with the quiet release of his shame and remorseful burden.
He left the chamber with his spirit restored to a final peace.
RINA
Rina stirred in the golden hush of morning, the scent of him still lingering on the pillow next to her.
Her hand reached across the bed, but his side was empty and cool.
She sat up, brushing a hand over her face.
A ping flashed in her neural link, indicating a waiting message, and she sent a command to access it.
I have a matter to attend to for the day, and I’ll be back by evening. I love you, M.
She sighed, resting back against the headboard, missing him in the mornings, longing to wake with him beside her.
She’d gotten used to it these last few weeks and needed it more than she liked to admit.
The rest of her day unfolded at a slow, steady pace.
Although she had a few days off, she spent some time on admin.
A handful of calls from the Pegasi High Command came in.
She also had a series of briefings to approve, message threads with her officers back on Dunia.
Plus a status update from Issa and Ki’Remi about a possible collaboration between their fleet of mercy ships and the Peace Corps’ medical operations.
She replied and messaged, but her heart wasn’t quite in it.
By early evening, the light softened into a warm amber, casting long shadows across the apartment.
The silence wrapped around her like a shawl, warm and restless.
Rina crossed to the sleek kitchen and opened the cooler.
He’d need a meal when he got in, and since she needed to keep her hands busy, she decided on a home-cooked dinner.
She prepped with quiet efficiency, marinating beef, cutting and spicing a sweet root mash, and prepping a fragrant herb drizzle.
The aroma filled the suite, grounding her.
She was placing the food in a warmer when the door hissed open.
She turned, and everything in her stilled.
Mo stood framed by the doorway, broad shoulders haloed in the last of the sunset light.
He appeared tired, but she perceived a serenity in him, as if a heavy load was lifted off his soul.
She placed the platter down and moved to him, launching herself into his arms.
He caught her, his grasp locking tight around her, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that unmade her.
It was deep, fierce, and unapologetic.
The world narrowed to the feel of his lips, the strength of his shoulders, the heat of him, the truth of him.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and tangled, she rested her forehead against his. ‘What did you do today, honey? I thought we were taking a few days off.’
He cupped her face with both hands, his gaze heavy with meaning.
‘I stood before the Riders and the Elders of Eden II,’ he grunted, voice hushed but intense. ‘I told them everything. Every mission and hit. All the sins I committed. I confessed it all.’
She froze, stunned.
‘I asked for punishment,’ he added. ‘I demanded it. Not because I wanted atonement for myself, but because I refuse to let our child grow up in my shadow. I craved to make us clean, Rina. No more secrets. No more ghosts at our door.’
Her lips parted, the magnitude of what he’d done sinking in. He’d laid himself bare, faced judgment. For her. For their unborn baby.
‘What happened?’
‘They gave me absolution. They ruled that I suffered enough and didn’t need any further punishment.’
‘I could have told you that,’ she chided him even as she kissed his cheek. ‘I’m so happy to hear my love. Does this mean you can now live guilt-free?’
‘It does.’
She pressed her hands to his chest, where the gleam of his Sacran glyphs pulsed all over him like living constellations. Her own belly responded, a ripple of warmth beneath the surface of her navel.
She glanced down.
A shimmer, soft and luminescent, a golden glow, just below her skin, cast light through the thin fabric of her top. The glow of an ancient and divine, inherited power stirred.
Mo whistled under his breath. ‘ Fokk me.’
‘Don’t swear, honey, not near the baby.’
‘ Fokk off,’ he growled. ‘Don’t you know it’s an indication of freakin’ intelligence to cuss? Likewise, a sign of passion?’
She laughed as he dropped to his knees, pressing a kiss to her belly, arms encircling her hips.
‘You are passionate, I’ll give you that, beloved. You’re also everything,’ she whispered into the crown of his head. ‘To me. To us. For now and eternity.’
He rose, cupping her face again as their foreheads met once more. ‘Then I’ll spend my life making sure that truth remains sacred.’
They stood together in silence, bound by light, legacy, and the fierce promise of a shared future.