Subtle Changes
21 Apr 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Colonia Region
_____________________________
Tara rested her head on Ryuko’s heaving chest as he lay back on the bed, exhausted. The worries in his mind temporarily faded, eclipsed by the holographic purple and blue hues of a nearby nebula dancing along the walls, enveloping them in celestial beauty.
“Look at all of this,” Ryuko murmured, his gaze captivated by the cosmic display. “They expect us to train others in our ways, but to make it cleaner, more controlled. I’m not sure if that’s teaching or taming.”
Tara shifted slightly, her eyes tracing the ethereal images swirling around them. “It’s both,” she whispered. “There’s power in that.”
“Bah, like these images, that kind of power is an illusion,” Ryuko countered, skepticism tinting his voice.
Tara adjusted her position, finding a more comfortable spot on Ryuko’s chest. “Yes, but these images are manifestations of what is real, just beyond these bulkheads.”
Ryuko’s fingers gently sifted through her black hair—real hair, grown especially for biomorphs like her. “She was curious about your evolution,” he noted thoughtfully. “Like this hair, she said that what started as mimicry has evolved into something real. Why didn’t you tell me, when I asked out of curiosity weeks ago?”
Tara’s chuckle was warm and resonant. “I told you to give it time, then decide what you thought. This is all new to me, but not unexpected. As rare and illegal as human design is, even the more basic models evolve after imprinting. Though, in someone like me, there's no telling how far it can go.”
“Someone, not something,” Ryuko observed softly. “Is that mimicry or evolution?”
Shaking her head, Tara draped an arm loosely over him. “I’m not sure. There’s so much changing inside me that it’s getting harder to tell the difference.”
His hands continued to thread through her hair. “And what about what we’ve been doing?”
A smile touched her lips as she closed her eyes. “That... that is real.”
***
The varying ship types moved as one through each system, scanning the navigational beacons near the host stars for the wake signatures of ships known to be owned by Ryuko Ntsikana. For days, nothing had appeared, but they were not deterred. Their leader knew that patience was the price. The more skillful the prey, the higher the cost. This one was skilled in both piracy and bounty hunting. As he had not shown himself, then he too must be prowling for prey, but where his hunting grounds were, was not yet known.
In their midst, but out of their physical and sensory view, hovered a Diamondback Explorer-class ship. The subdued amber glow of a cybernetic eye watched the wing in curiosity, as the colored hair of a woman sitting behind smiled. “Now this is a curious turn of events,” she remarked, as the wing turned to a new heading, their jump engines spooling up, distorting the space in front of each as they vanished, one by one.