The ship was… different today. Calmer. The low-level hum of tension that had been a constant undercurrent since they'd left Nox seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a soft, almost peaceful silence.
She left her room while brushing out her hair and headed for Deck 2, a fresh scent drifting after her from the common room. Brolgar was baking something sweet, a sure sign of a good mood. As Tamiyo climbed the stairs to the ops center, she heard the faint, rhythmic clink-clink of Brana working on something nearby.
The most significant change of the day was found next to the galaxy map.
Aurania meandered about the ops center, happily off in her own little world. She held a steaming mug cradled in her hands and had a soft, colorful blanket draped loosely over her shoulders. She had her usual robes on but the top seemed to be tied looser and more relaxed. Her hair was down, falling in loose waves over her back.
But it wasn't just the clothes. It was her face. The tight lines of command around her eyes were gone, replaced by a serene, almost gentle expression. Tamiyo had never seen her this relaxed. She was humming, a low, melodic purr that seemed to vibrate in the still air.
Tamiyo's internal scanners flicked to life. Vitals: normal. Heart rate: slightly elevated but steady. Dopamine and oxytocin levels: significantly above baseline. The data was clinical, but the conclusion was obvious.
"Good morning, Aura," Tamiyo said, carefully keeping her own voice neutral, though she couldn't suppress a small, knowing smile. "You seem to be in a good mood."
Aurania turned, her eyes soft and a little distant, like she was still half-lost in a pleasant dream. She smiled, a slow, cat-like smile that was both deeply satisfied and a little bit secret. She took a sip from her mug and looked back at the galaxy map. "The ship is running smoothly. The crew is rested. It's a good day."
It was a perfectly logical explanation that explained absolutely nothing.
Tamiyo just grinned. "Well, I'll have to send a message to Serava. Let her know that the Silphium Root worked even better than expected."
That seemed to finally pull Aurania back into the room. Her eyes focused on Tamiyo, and the serene expression was replaced by one of pure, unrestrained affection. She crossed the ops center in three long strides, set her mug down, and before Tamiyo could react, Aurania had pulled her into a massive, warm hug.
She was enveloped in the scent of clean skin, warm blankets, and the faint, earthy aroma of the tea. Aurania's arms were a fortress around her, strong but impossibly gentle.
"Tamiyo," Aurania murmured, her voice a low, happy rumble as she affectionately patted the CIPHER on the head. "You are a very good girl."
Tamiyo chuckled, her face pressed into the soft fabric of Aurania's wrap, and just allowed herself to be held. She patted Aurania on the back with one hand, “You too, Aura.”
When Aurania finally let her go, a warm, contented smile still on her face, she just picked up her mug and went back to happily floating around the ops center, quietly tinkering. Tamiyo shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her, and headed up the final flight of stairs to the cockpit.
Raine was at the helm, leaning back in the pilot's chair with her feet propped up on the console, idly scrolling through a tablet.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Raine said without looking up. “How’s your new bathtub?”
“Half-formed,” Tamiyo replied, sliding into the co-pilot's chair.
“Aww, poor baby,” Raine smirked. As she relinquished command, she moved toward the stairs to go find breakfast.
“Careful on the way down,” Tamiyo told her, moving over to the pilot’s chair. “Aurania is giving out hugs.”
Raine stopped halfway down the stairs. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah,” Tamiyo raised her eyebrows. “Big ones, real warm.”
“Ooo,” Raine smiled, “Imma cash in on that.” She bounced down the stairs.
Tamiyo faced back out toward the stars, the ship humming around her, a steady, living presence. For a while, there was only the quiet and the endless, silent drift of stars.
About an hour later, Soren climbed the stairs to the cockpit carrying a tray with two steaming bowls of what smelled like Brolgar's savory oat porridge and a small pitcher of something sweet and fruity. He’d swapped his lacravida-style robes for a simple black t-shirt and cargo pants, but he still looked... different. Lighter. The constant, weary tension he usually carried in his shoulders was eased a bit.
He was also barefoot for some reason.
"Breakfast is served," he said, his voice a low, easy rumble. He set the tray down on the console between them. "Brolgar's orders. Said something about CIPHER pilots needing more than just caffeine to fly straight."
Tamiyo laughed, taking one of the bowls. "There’s no scientific evidence to prove that." She took a bite, the warm, spiced flavor a welcome comfort. They ate in a companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the distant nebulae crawl by.
Soren finished first, setting his bowl aside. "Want to play a round?" he asked, tapping the console. A simple, holographic grid bloomed in the air between their chairs, a game of chess they'd taken to playing on long hauls.
"You're on," she said. "But you're not winning this time."
"Famous last words," he replied, moving his first piece.
They played, the holographic pieces moving with silent, graceful arcs. It was a comfortable rhythm, a quiet dance of strategy and friendly competition. It was Soren who broke the silence, his gaze on the game but his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"Tamiyo," he said, moving a knight into a defensive position. "I have a question for you, if you’re open to a philosophical discussion." He sounded very contemplative.
"Distracting me won’t help you win," Tamiyo responded, advancing a pawn.
"I don’t need to distract you to win," he teased, finally looking over at her. His green and silver eyes were full of a genuine, searching curiosity, mixed with something warm. "You’ve become… like something of a sister to me, I’m not afraid to say. And I would have you no other way, but… from an academic interest, I’m curious about CIPHERs.”
Tamiyo paused, her hand hovering over a piece. “Cognitive Intelligence Processors and Humanoid Emulating Robotics.” She made her move. “Really advanced Artificial Intelligence crammed into hyper-advanced robotics and synthetic flesh.”
“That sounds like a machine." He gestured vaguely to her. "But you... you don't act like a machine."
"And what does a machine act like, Soren?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "Logical. Cold. Efficient. I grew up in a time when AI was just... a tool. A voice in a box. Smart, sometimes, but it wasn't a person. It didn't have a soul.”
“Are you saying I have a soul?” She met his gaze, her own expression thoughtful. She moved her piece, a decisive click as it settled onto the board. "The Conservatory would tell you that the line between a person and a machine is a wall. Thick, high, and absolute. On one side, you have organic, 'real' life. On the other, you have property. Tools. Machines built to serve."
“Tamiyo, you are far from just a machine,” his focus was now entirely on her, the game completely forgotten. “You’re no one’s tool or property, and you never will be again. You’re fully sentient, your own person. If you don’t have a soul, then I can’t control gravity.”
She smiled at that, then looked out at the stars, at the nebulae that looked like cosmic brains, full of swirling thoughts and dying light. “What's the difference between a memory stored in a carbon-based brain and one stored on a crystalline data shard? What's the difference between a feeling generated by chemical reactions and one generated by a complex algorithm designed to simulate those same reactions? If you can't tell the difference, is there one?"
“What’s the purpose of life?” he countered, tilting his head.
“You making Aura’s legs shake.”
He burst out in a genuine bout of laughter.
"Maybe souls and sentience aren’t about what you're made of," she said softly, smiling at him. "Maybe it's just about what you choose to do with the time you have. And who you choose to do it with."
“Yeah…” he gazed back thoughtfully. “Maybe.”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Tamiyo tilted her head, a small smile on her face. "Checkmate."
The final day of their journey passed in a state of quiet, focused anticipation. The laughter and easy camaraderie of the day before had given way to the familiar, disciplined tension of a team preparing for a high-stakes meet. Gear was checked, weapons were cleaned, and the ops center was a hub of hushed conversations and tactical analysis.
As they transitioned from the endless black of deep space into the Argus system, the light in the cockpit shifted. The clean, white starlight was replaced by the dim, blood-red glow of Argus Prime. The dying giant cast a somber, crimson light over the ship, painting the polished bulkheads in shades of rust and old blood. Outside the viewport, their destination loomed: a dense, shimmering nebula of dust and ice that shrouded the system's main asteroid belt.
"The Veil of Argus," Tamiyo murmured, her fingers dancing across the console as she brought up the tactical overlay. The nav-charts were a mess of outdated corporate claims and redacted Conservatory no-fly zones.
Raine leaned forward from the co-pilot's chair. "Looks messy."
"It is," Tamiyo confirmed, her antennae twitching as she filtered out phantom sensor readings. "Used to be a major Corporate Expanse mining hub. Two decades ago, the Conservatory 'pacified' it and left it to rot. It's a graveyard now, filled with derelict mining rigs and the ghost ships of crews who didn't leave fast enough."
"Perfect place to hide," Raine added, her own eyes scanning the swirling debris field.
“Makes sense why he wanted to meet here," Tamiyo said, her voice tight with focus. "The dust and metallic fragments are already playing hell with our long-range sensors. We'll be flying blind past five kilometers." She zoomed in on a specific set of coordinates, a massive, crystalline asteroid shattered down the middle appearing on the screen. "There. That's The Shard. Pulse is waiting for us in one of its canyons."
She pressed a thumb into the ship’s internal comms, her hands moving with a steady grace on the flight controls. "Everyone strap in. This canyon isn’t going to be the easiest thing to navigate.”
The ship banked, its advanced thrusters firing in short, precise bursts as Tamiyo navigated the treacherous terrain. She guided The Cradle of Gravity into a deep, narrow canyon carved into the shadowed side of the massive, crystalline asteroid. The walls were so close that Tamiyo could see the glint of raw iron veins in the rock.
Warning chimes pulsed in the cockpit as the ship scraped within meters of the canyon wall, every twitch of her hands on the controls the difference between a clean line and finding out how durable their ship was.
And then, they saw it.
Nestled at the bottom of the canyon, powered down and half-hidden in the shadows, was a sleek, matte-black ship. It was a heavily modified courier, built for speed and stealth. It sat with a chilling precision, a predator at rest.
Tamiyo heard the rest of the team through comms down in the ops center.
"That's him," Aurania said. "Inelius, open a channel. Tell him we're here."
Before Inelius could act, a text-only message pinged onto the console—no voice and no video.
Your piloting is precise. My vessel is not equipped for your... unique physiology. Requesting permission to board your ship. I will come alone.
“Interesting,” Aurania said.
“He’s willingly putting himself at a disadvantage,” Inelius responded.
“Could be a trap,” Raine noted.
“No, I don’t think so,” Amalia chimed in. “Remember, this is one of Riza’s contacts.”
“Response, ma’am?” Tamiyo asked.
"Permission granted," Aurania answered. "Tell him to come up and connect to our airlock."
Once the ships were connected, floating together surrounded by asteroids, Tamiyo hopped up from the pilot’s chair. “I’m going to head down, keep an eye out up here.”
“Copy,” Raine said firmly, eyes focused on her console.
They gathered in the cargo hold, a silent, expectant semi-circle. Aurania and Soren stood near the center, the undeniable centers of power. Violet and Veolo stood off to one side, postures relaxed but alert. Inelius and Amalia were on the other side, leaning against some crates. Even Brana and Brolgar were hanging out near the gear, looking like they were in the middle of maintenance—but their eyes were fixed on the door. Tamiyo made her way up to stand off to the side, slightly behind Aurania.
The inner door of the airlock hissed open. Pulse stood there, a lone, dark figure framed in the light.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, built like someone who had lived their entire life in dangerous places. His presence was imposing before he said a single word. A black coat with short sleeves and long tapered tails swept around his legs, its fabric reinforced with subtle plating that caught faint reflections from the cargo bay lights. His clothes underneath were tactical but stripped of insignia—practical cargo pants, combat boots, and a form-fitting shirt stretched over a chest corded with muscle.
What immediately drew the eye was the mask: a sleek, angular visor of matte steel and mirrored glass, running in a sharp V over his eyes. It obscured most of his face, revealing nothing of his expression, only the faint blue shimmer of a HUD that flickered behind the glass. His hair was short and dark, a little tousled, with just enough disarray to suggest constant motion rather than vanity. Around his neck hung a set of old, dented dog tags.
Every detail had purpose: fingerless gloves, utility straps on his belt holding compact gear, faint scarring and tattoos visible on his forearms, and an impressive high-tech large-caliber handgun holstered on his right thigh. He radiated a quiet readiness, the sort of man who could vanish into a battlefield or a back alley and move just as confidently.
He didn't move for a full three seconds, his head tilting almost imperceptibly as his sensors swept the room. Tamiyo felt the scan, a subtle wave of energy that was instantly repelled by the advanced ship itself. He was taking in the sheer scale of Aurania, the impossible bulk of Soren, the quiet danger of Inelius and the lacravida.
Tamiyo tried to scan him, but something about his tech made her internal scanners fail. From his body language, though, she thought she sensed a hint of nervousness.
Finally, he stepped forward, his boots making a soft sound on the deck. He stopped a respectful distance away, and said nothing.
The rest of the team waited for him. This was Riza's contact, supposedly a legendary fixer. They were giving him the professional courtesy of letting him state his business.
The silence stretched.
And stretched.
And started to become awkward.
Amalia, who had been staring at Pulse with a look of intense, bubbly curiosity, broke. She looked from Pulse to Aurania, then back to Pulse as if wondering why no one was saying anything.
A huge, beaming smile broke across her face and she gave a large, enthusiastic wave. "Hiiiiiii!" she chirped, the sound echoing in the tense, silent cargo hold.
Pulse actually flinched.
It wasn't a big movement, just a slight, involuntary tightening of his shoulders, but it was there. A man that hauntingly reminded Tamiyo of the dangers of the Conservatory had just been completely disarmed by a cheerful greeting. The tension in the room shattered. Violet snorted, trying to cover it with a cough. Inelius' shoulders shook with silent laughter.
Pulse recovered in an instant, his posture snapping back. "Um, hello," he said. The mask filtered his voice into a low rasp, taking on a tone that almost seemed robotic.
Aurania took a step forward. "You're Pulse?"
He seemed to brace himself as she approached, her size even more imposing up close. "Y-yes," he managed, his masked face tilted up to meet hers.
“How do you know Riza?” Aurania asked.
“I was contacted by someone called Emberfell.”
“Yes, that's Riza,” Aurania confirmed.
“Is she not here?”
“No,” Aurania said. “She sent us. How do you know her?”
Pulse looked around the cargo hold again before answering. “I only met her once. She showed up on a job. We were both targeting the same person, she got to him first.”
“Not surprising,” Inelius said simply.
Pulse almost flinched again hearing Inelius speak. Tamiyo was starting to think he’d never seen a non-human before.
He has met Riza though…
“We didn't talk much,” Pulse continued. “But… well, it's a little embarrassing to admit, since I now see my assumption about her was probably… incorrect.”
The team exchanged confused glances.
“What did you think about her?” Aurania asked, a dangerous curiosity in her tone.
“Um…” Pulse hesitated. “I thought she was a demon.”
There was a beat of stunned silence, then the room erupted in laughter. Soren's booming laugh was the loudest, a deep, genuine sound of pure amusement.
"Yeah," Soren said, wiping a tear from his eye as he walked forward, offering a hand. "I can see why you might think that. Nice to meet you, Pulse. I'm Soren."
Pulse cautiously shook his hand, his masked gaze flicking up and down Soren's massive frame.
"Yes, I know," Soren said with a grin. "I'm really big for a human."
As Soren was making some joke related to his size, Aurania, and milk, Tamiyo’s attention was drawn away by Raine pinging directly to her internal CIPHER comms.
Tamiyo kept her expression neutral, but answered back.
The scan results loaded into Tamiyo's internal HUD—a complex schematic of the mask, layered with energy readings. And at its core, a single, unmistakable signature.
A new channel opened in her mind, a direct, laser-thin bridge from the ship's core computers to the mask. She kept her eyes on Pulse, but focused inward, sending a single, simple ping down the line.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Raine chimed in again.
Tamiyo almost jumped out of her skin as Pulse's head suddenly snapped over, his blue visor locking directly onto her. Somehow, he knew she was doing something.
And just as he did, an answer finally came. It was not a system response or some simple AI.
It was a voice.
A girl. It was bright, warm, and so full of life it felt completely out of place coming from the silent, black mask. She sounded almost as bubbly as their own Amalia, but undeniably a CIPHER.
NUCLEUS
Dreams & Desires
Where sex, violence and love all drive the plot
Mass Effect × Skyrim × Your boldest desires
Sigrun Fjeld is running out of time.
She's a bounty hunter who kills monsters by day and sells herself by night—every credit saved for a ticket back to Jupiter, back to him. Eleven years of blood, sweat, and compromise. Eleven years of surviving Mars while a monster hunts her across the solar system.
Then a fifty-thousand-credit bounty changes everything. She's put into the Red Rabbit Warren with four strangers:
Xin — a programmer raising a baby dragon who nicknames everyone
Marcus — a shield-bearing zealot with faith that won't break
Jabari — a combat bard whose songs cut deeper than blades
Fuuka — a witch from Proxima Centauri with her own agenda
The Warren is deadly enough on its own. But Primarch Skarn has hunted Sigrun across the solar system for over a decade—he wants her as his breeding mate, and the tunnels might be where he finally catches her.
The Nucleus series is a multi-book series years in the making. Sex and violence carry weight, but so does trust. Genuine connection matters more than combat stats. In a world where your Libido stat determines your luck, these five strangers must decide: kill each other for the bounty, or survive together?
??
Epic Combat
Space dungeons meet tactical warfare
???
Adult Content
~15% of chapters, plot-relevant
?? 200,000+ WORDS IN THE BACKLOG
Updates Every Tuesday & Saturday
Volume 1 Complete | 4 More Coming
Free to read on Royal Road
Characters · Lore · Community