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The lone corvette winged over a darkened facility that, until the unprecedented attack of its dome, had been an emblem of The Sable Group’s technology dominance for over a decade. Where once they’d been stunning architecture and bustling activity was now twisted neo-steel and the silence of space.
‘We will rebuild and rise once more,’ Kage said, echoing Mirage’s earlier words. ‘The terminal is gone, and so are parts of Skylab but there’s still sixty percent of the complex viable.’
Harlow sat beside him, gazing sadly at the view screen as it zoomed in on the shattered buildings and structures below.
‘It could have been worse,’ Kage said. ‘We could have also lost the spaceport and maybe even the main dome over Eden II.’
‘But we didn’t, thanks to you and the rest of the Riders.’
The couple fell silent as Kage made another pass over his beloved campus, then, with a grim look, commanded the corvette to shift direction. Thrusters kicked in, and the craft leapt away from the metro skyline.
‘Where are we heading now?’ Harlow asked, realising they were heading into new territory.
‘J’Urg Mihòr.’
‘Your other home?’
‘Indeed.’
‘I finally get to see your true lair.’
‘You do.’
‘Where is it?’
‘The dark side of the moon,kara. On an extensive mountain ridge at the loneliest, furthest and the most southern point of Eden II.’
They flew over a silver, cold vista dotted with dead volcanoes, impact craters, and dried-up lava flows from eons gone by.
‘Fascinating,’ Harlow murmured, fascinated by the crusted rocky surface covered with regolith, lava plains and lunar mares. The light gradually dipped until all visible were the jewels of stars and celestial bodies in the cloaked skies above.
‘Who else lives at J’Urg Mihòr?’ Harlow asked.
‘Just us Riders. It’s all private. It runs along the mountain’s apex, reached only by a craft like this one. Only our ships are permitted access.’
It took an hour with Kage pushing the limits of Void’s thrusters before they set down on a domed landing pad framed by mountainous crags that had formed over millennia into a pinnacled semi-circle.
‘Each Sable Rider owns their ridge, and we have our lairs within,’ Kage told her as they gathered their bags. ‘You can’t see them with the naked eye because, like my own, they all have camouflaged screens that protect the interiors on the edge of the mountain range.’
Harlow walked out of the corvette and onto a magnetised neo-steel walkway that showcased an immense sky that pushed down into her soul.
She paused mid-step, transfixed and spellbound by the sheer magnitude of the scenery. Only thick sheeted transparent plex separated her from the uninhabited realm beyond, from the swirling, dancing silver regolith to a wild, unadulterated, starlit atmosphere packed so dense with shooting fireballs that whirled by past so fast her head spun.
She felt Kage’s presence behind her and turned to face him.
‘It’s stunning.’
He smiled slowly. ‘Sante, kara. You don’t know how I’ve longed to have you here. Come.’
He took her arm and led her down the walkway, which opened to an incredible space immersed in the rocky peaks of the lunar mountainside.
Like his apartment in the metro, Kage’s lair featured floor-to-ceiling plex windows that framed the view outside. The entire living area was sharply cantilevered, giving the impression the house was barely gripping onto the edge of the cliff it perched on.
The interior was split over several levels, a stunning extension of the lunar environment outside. The top level seemed devoted to communal spaces, and the lower one, glimpsed via plex floors and large staircases, featured bedrooms and a pool.
Harlow wandered about the space marvelling at Kage’s use of raw and simple materials. The result was a light and textured ambience, with hues of washed grey, silver, white and charcoal creating an uncluttered and calm interior, reflecting the colours of the silver regolith outside.
Just like Kage, nothing was overdone or busy. Instead, the spaces were seamlessly integrated between warm rock floors and raw elements. Harlow’s fingers touched the pared-back kitchen bench, feeling the stunning rock-hewn surfaces sanded to a matte smoothness and framed by floor-to-ceiling joinery.
