A Halo of Mystery

Above The Osirian, nestled in one of the luxurious upper floors of Sable HQ, was a members-only invite-only den.

A pinnacle of casino-playing opulence, the luxe gaming salon was set in lavish surroundings, adorned with opulent decor and furnishings, exquisite art pieces, and captivating floral arrangements.

A dedicated concierge service catered to one's every need as they lost themselves in high-stakes wagering at exclusive tables.

The place lured Pegasi's System's well-heeled affluent rollers, the wealthiest and most skilled card sharks, where players were pampered in a private and intimate setting.

It offered an extensive selection of games and slot machines, catering to all playing preferences, where tournaments delivered an intense and suspenseful atmosphere.

Its gilded ornate table attracted the finest participants with its colossal buy-in and staggering half-million-schill entry fee. Not to mention that a significant portion of the astronomical buy-ins was donated to charitable causes determined by the Sable Group.

Even the cards were ostentatious. They were printed with metallic ink on high-quality casino-grade stock paper, embossed with gold and silver foil, and encrusted with diamond facets.

Xion's duty was to ensure that no one dared nick them. Nor the growing stash of gems and precious stones at the centre of the mesa that composed the payers' collateral.

The Rider settled in as the clinking of chips, the rustle of notes, and the murmurs of calculated bets filled the room, interrupted by the occasional victorious exclamation or tense silence.

‘We waiting for anyone?'

‘One more,' came Mirage's drawl as the dealer.

The air was pungent with the aroma of cigar smoke and the lingering scent of expensive whisky.

The heady mixture made Xion's head swim and his stomach churn.

He hadn't eaten since lunch, and it didn't help that the room reeked of the players' sweat. Their hands trembled, their glassware-clutching fingertips slick with nerves.

A shark-level mode of desperation hovered over the baccarat mesa and each player.

Chasing an ever-fading windfall.

Xion leaned back, pushed his thick locks from his face, and studied the assembled card sharks. His meta-perception fixed on getting a bead on them, running through their identikits in his neural vision.

To his right was Mad Masunda, a solid, heavy-set man with Galician features and a permanent scowl.

He held his cards close to his chest, the calculating glint in his eyes suggesting he was not to be trifled with.

He'd won the Annual Sable High Roller card tournament a year ago, a yearly extravaganza that attracted the best and brightest in poker and baccarat. His prize had been a coveted xentium and diamond necklace, a Sable-designed racer, a bracelet, and two million schills.

Word on the street is that he'd burnt through the lot in under six months, which made him ravenous tonight.

He was accompanied by a burly, seven-foot-tall Sirius X bodyguard, packing severe heat, who was now lurking in the shadows of the salon's corners.

Even though he'd match him in battle, Xion comprehended better than underestimating him, for he'd come out bruised in a fight with the man whose people were legendary brawlers.

Next to Mad sat a woman draped in opulent furs, her fingers adorned with glittering jewels that caught the light every time she placed a bet. Her laughter was rich and melodic, but there was a flash of deceit behind her dazzling smile. She also only went by one appellation. Su.

She was a by-the-book player representing a Galician consortium.

At least, that's what she wanted people to think.

The Rider knew she carried secrets far more valuable than the chips stacked before her. She and Mad were in cahoots together to try and game the cards, a fact they'd tried to hide from the Sable Group, but one uncovered by Mirage's quantum computing reach.

Keeping to himself in one corner was a man with slicked-back hair, his beady eyes darting around the table with a predatory gleam.

A fine sheen of sweat coated his forehead, betraying his nerves. His name was Vincent Bata, a notorious Siriuxian gambler with a reputation for winning at any cost.

On Xion's left perched Isabella Annan D'Ransi, a rake-thin woman he identified as a famous Rhesian art dealer.

Her elegant posture and refined attire belied her true nature. She exuded an air of mystery, her piercing gaze revealing a shrewdness that made Xion wary.

Her porcelain skin contrasted with the dark shadows under her eyes, hinting at countless sleepless nights spent plotting her way out of debt, given that her foundation owed millions of schills to her lenders.

Across from the Rider sat a burly man with the alias of ‘The Bull.' He earned this nickname for his massive frame and relentless aggression on the card table. When he played, his face was screwed up in an intense scowl.

‘Twas clear every player had something to hide, and Xion's files on them were a precautionary measure to protect his group's interests.

It was also one surefire way to keep an eye on Pegasi's felons without raising their suspicions. It kept the Rider close to society's underbelly, connected to the sinister and twisted corners where secrets and power were traded.

Most of the time, sitting in this salon with cunning kinais such as these, Xion buzzed with dynamism and energy.

However, tonight, he was too drained to appreciate the privilege.

Right now, he was yearning to be halfway across Eden II. In his glass-fronted villa overlooking the wild lunar plains and dark mountains of J'Urg M'hor with a bottle of cold brew in his hand.

He rubbed his tired eyes.

Fokk, focus, man, he told himself.

Mirage glanced up as if reading his mind. Ko'sawa, Rider?

He jerked his chin at her. ‘Fokkin' rooted.Can we hurry this along and keep this game quick?

The Sable intelligentsia raised a brow. Will that be enough time for you to check Anastasios out?

Seated across the Rider was Anastasios Panaskerteli, a middle-aged, washed-out royal, one much lower on the Falasian rung of ascendancy.

He sported a full head of silver hair and a salt-and-pepper beard and was partial to fried food, which the servers brought to him by the tray load.

His calm demeanour and gentle smile belied a lifetime of experience at the card table. Yet the beaming man was suspected to be the ghost leader of a ruthless cabal in Falasia. The Riders had tagged him some time back, convinced he was stalking the salon for opportunities to expand his organisation's wings and enterprise to Eden II.

Kainan Sable, the Sable Group head, had tasked Xion with dissuading him of the idea.

More than enough,Xion growled at Mirage via their node link.

Your call, khosi,the synth creature said with a slight nod.

‘How much longer?' muttered Vincent, eyes flickering with impatience.

He smoothed his slicked-back hair, fingers tapping against the table, a nervous habit that betrayed his cocky facade.

Xion was aware of Vincent's reputation—winning at any cost. He was willing to stoop to unimaginable depths to come out on top.

‘Any second now,' the Sable consigliere smiled.

On cue, the salon door whispered open, and a figure spirited inside.

Xion's eyes sliced to the newcomer.

A woman.

Stunning. Lithe. Sleek.

Their eyes met, and his breath hitched as his entire soul and inner being lurched in response to her.

What the freakin' fokk?

His lightning-fast metanoids raced to maintain control over his ratcheting heart rate while they made an expeditious assessment.

Depending on the angle of light, her face could have belonged to an angel or a seductress in equal part.

Tiny dermal diamonds were inset onto her dermis in a flourish on her left cheekbone.

A second set sat in a halo at her hairline, disappearing under her swinging mane.

More jewels adorned her nose and ears.

Her eyes, lined with dark kohl, sparkled with wildfire. Her mouth, sensual and full-lipped, was enough for Xion to lick his own in longing and bite his lower lip.

Jet-black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves.

A form-fitting dress clung to her curves like tight skin, casting her like a goddess. The ebony synth-silk glittered when she moved, revealing a mix of metallic shine and intricate motifs.

He leaned back and devoured her with his meta-heated eyes.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned in her direction, captivated by her presence.

As she approached the mesa, his nostrils flared as desire hit with such heat he almost flinched.

Damn.

He had seen countless players enter this room before. Still, none had ever possessed such an aura of mystery and allure, giving off so many pheromones that he stiffened with even more scorched need under his meta-suit.

‘You're late,' Mirage clipped at her, not looking up from the betting surface, sucking on their synth cheroot.

‘Apologies,' came the throaty, husky deliverance. ‘I was caught up in a pressing matter. But I'm here now, ready to play.'

The woman's voice was smooth and sultry, like honey dripping off velvet. It triggered a series of shivers down Xion's spine, further stoking his gnawing hunger to own her.

All of her.

‘Let's get started.' Mirage gestured for the woman to take a seat, and she slid with an elegant move into the only empty chair at the table.

The other players eyed her, their faces reflecting their curiosity.

She leaned forward, revealing a glimpse of cleavage that sent pulses racing around the room.

Not even Xion could tear his gaze away from her fast enough. He jolted when her eyes sliced and locked onto his, and a dynamic charge passed between them.

A wild tingling went all over his body.

He inhaled sharply as his metanoids magnetised and a heightened wave of prescience kicked in.

A swirl of images hit his mind.

Of him, impossibly her, a gaggle of children, a home, laughter, the essence of happiness.

It was such an intense sensation that it felt like he was peering into a parallel universe. Where they were living a different life, one that was filled with love, warmth, and the joys of parenthood.

He jerked his head, snapping out of the future vision.

Still, it lingered, and heart pounding, he stared at her.

No woman at any time had triggered this response in him before.

It freakin' shook him to his core, given he'd never met or spoken to her.

He tried to dismiss the visions with a huff, but the images wouldn't leave his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself in the present.

Mirage, always the sardonic operator who'd seen it all, glanced from him to the mysterious newcomer with a slight smirk. ‘You in?'

The woman smiled. ‘Naam. Please.'

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her legs, revealing a glimpse of a small calibre laser weapon strapped to her thigh.

She was gunning, but for whom it wasn't yet clear.

She placed the clutch in her hand on the table and withdrew a silk purse, upending it onto the surface.

Out of it tumbled gems, rubies and a sizeable diamond.

Mirage raised a brow. ‘Your wager?'

‘Tis. Plus, my lucky charms.'

Lifting her jewel-tipped fingers, she blew on the enormous crystal and placed it back down.

With a subtle nod from the woman, the baccarat tournament began.

‘Place your bets,' Mirage announced. ‘I advise the 3:1 ratio as a good start. If the shoe goes off balance, you can further increase your bet that it will not remain so unstable.'

The game allowed seven seats for players and a dealer's chair. Two hands of cards—the player's and the banker's—were dealt before them.

The players complied, picking either the banker's hand, the player's hand or a tie.

Once the bets were placed, four cards were dispensed on the table.

Mirage slid out a card and set it in the player box.

The next card was inserted in the banker box and repeated so that each compartment had two cards.

As cards were dealt and played, Xion's eyes flickered between everyone in the room, searching for hints or nervous tics that pointed to cheating.

Xion raised a brow when the alluring Ccyth woman won the first round and collected her payout in a pile of generous markers.

Her luck continued in subsequent rounds as card after card fell in her favour.

Once confident in their abilities, the other players grew restless and uneasy as she accumulated an ever-increasing stack of chips.

As an unknown, she'd thrown a spanner in the works.

No one in the room grasped how to game her. The tension was palpable, as if the air held its breath, waiting for her next move.

Xion's meta-fast eyes began to note a pattern in her play.

His brow rose as she rotated her high and low cards in sequence.

His gaze locked on her, following her eyes as they fixed on identifying the cards, picking up on tiny asymmetrical flaws in the designs on the back. This allowed her to detect the value of each card and what the first one dealt from the deck would be, giving her a significant lead.

Mirage's eyes met his.

He tapped into the Sable Group's nodal connection. Tis not the way Baccarat is meant to be played. She's using an edge-sorting trick.

The AI kept her expression bland as she replied. Can't do a thing, Xi. No formal rules have been broken.

So, is this cheating? he groused.

I'm not sure. She's gaming us, but I can't call her on it; it squeaks in as legal. She has an eagle eye, that's for sure.

Fokk.

She is playing above any level I've ever seen before. The ability to identify micro-differences in the cards and utilise this knowledge, alongside a mathematical understanding of the game, to make tactical solid theoretic choices are all unique.

Who is she? Did you vet her?

Not at first. I only had her seat booked. When she walked into the room, I did a cross-check. Her Sys-ID states her name as Katya D'Landra, a high-stakes gambler with a reputation for success across the galaxy. The little I've found shows that she plays hard and is often hired by some of the wealthiest players in Pegasi to win games on their behalf. As far as I can see, there is no illegal activity, but there was no mention of her extraordinary skills in her background jacket.

Xion gave an imperceptible jerk of his chin. Let's play on. We may need to halt the game if her wins get out of control. They're outrageous, and the house might lose big.

It was also his job, along with Mirage, to balance profit and loss in the salon.

The house always won. Until today, it would seem.

When the alluring woman took the next round, the other players exchanged irate glances, speculating on the woman's uncanny abilities.

‘Freakin' cheat,' growled Su.

The Iccythrian woman was cool as fokk, flicking an icy glance at her fellow affronted player.

‘Let's keep it civil,' Xion rasped, powerless to intervene further nor stop the game.

Katya's eyes found him, and she met his with a slight turn of her lips before sliding them away to focus on her cards.

With each passing hand, he fell deeper into a trance-like state, completely enthralled by the woman's moves, unable to ignore her undeniable allure.

His bets became irrelevant as he studied her expressions, trying to decipher any hint of her strategy. He was playing a dangerous gamble, losing himself within her magnetic presence.

Time dilated, and all meaning fled in that smoke-filled room, where shadows danced with intrigue, and secrets whispered in every corner.

Every round seemed to blur into the next as the woman accumulated more chips. Her eyes remained focused and calculating, never revealing any trace of doubt or uncertainty. It was as if she possessed an innate understanding of the cards, an unspoken connection to the game itself.

He noted her looking away at one point as if connecting to an inner neural node.

That was when her play changed.

It was a subtle shift, but he caught it.

First, she commenced to down more drinks, slugging back the rare whisky on offer as if celebrating her win way before the finish line.

She also began to lose hand after hand.

Xion's eyes narrowed as the woman's winning streak waned.

The once confident and composed gambler now seemed intoxicated, her movements unsteady and her focus wavering.

The other players at the table seized this opportunity to regain their lost chips, their confidence surging with each victorious hand.

Still, Xion couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. He'd seen skilled gamblers endure losing rounds, but there was an undeniable shift in the room's energy. It was as if the very essence of the game had turned against her, conspiring to strip the woman of her previous fortune.

Something's going on.

Mirage's eyes locked on Katya.

I have a rattled inkling about this, Xi. Her luck at the start was too extraordinary to be mere chance, and now it's almost as if she wants to lose. Who does that?

The room fell into a hushed silence as the woman placed one final bet. ‘All in,' she declared.

All eyes were fixed upon her as Mirage made the play and revealed her cards, with little emotion hiding behind her quantum gaze.

When the cards were turned over, a small gasp escaped from the slender, thin Rhesian art dealer to Katya's left.

The rest of the players exchanged bewildered glances.

Xion cocked a brow in stunned disbelief as the once mysterious woman thrust her remaining chips, gems and collateral jewels to the centre of the table.

A heavy silence hung in the air as Mirage reached for the bounty wager, their fingers wrapping around the jewels and pulling close the woman's surrendered stack of chips.

With a slight wave at her astounded audience, Katya stood up, picked up her now empty clutch, and walked away.

Back straight, muscles taut with the effort to keep herself steady.

She propelled out of the salon door and vanished.

Xion stared after her, mesmerised as the other players rose.

After Mirage counted out their wins, they grumbled and abandoned the room, some in deep disappointment and others with curled lips of outrage.

The Rider sat back with a heavy sigh. ‘Thank fokk, that's over,' he announced to the Sable consigliere when the last card shark exited.

Yet his earlier weariness had vanished, and he thrummed with need and curiosity, restraining himself from dashing after the mystery woman.

Just then, Xion saw Mirage gaze in part shock down at her hands, then up and to the left into the dark corner of the salon.

Fokk, she murmured into his neural node. We've been hacked.

Xion jolted. What in Eden's hell? By whom?

Mirage's stare swung to the table.

Where the mysterious Iccythrian woman's gemstones were scattered.

By those jewels. I think.

He knifed upright and leaned in, eyes locked on the sparkling stones. How?

Having interacted with my hand, those gems are siphoning our systems' side-band data, capturing it electromagnetically, regardless of my shielding. It's a freakin' potent hack, and I'm attempting to shut it down.

Is the data being transmitted elsewhere?

Naam. I can't locate the destination; I'm trying to.

Isn't our threat level one of the highest in Pegasi?

Tis. Whatever these gems are is beyond my purview, but I'm analysing them as fast as possible.

A beat later, Mirage continued, her voice sounding far off and cold. I see what we have here. The gems are a perfect delivery platform for specialised nanites programmed to form virtual networks and launch various penetration attempts against the system and its components. They're also providing a wireless power source for the nanites and transmitting data like mad. I've got our Sable metanoids fighting them, and trust me, the battle is epic.

Xion leaned in. ‘I'll go after her,' he growled. ‘While you find out what the fokk is going on and shut down this physical and nanite revelry.'

Without hesitation, Xion pushed his remaining chips into the centre of the table. ‘Wish me luck.'

He nodded to Mirage and then stalked from the dim-lit room.

The landing outside the salon was empty.

However, his meta-gaze zoned in on a svelte figure in ebony black sashaying away in the distance.

She'd made it to the atrium at the ground level and was headed towards the exit.

Her unsteadiness caused her to almost slide and slip on her heels, but each time, she righted herself, averting a fall.

He moved down the ornate staircase in a high-velocity chase after the lush Iccythrian beauty.

She stepped onto the pavement on the busy night avenue, walking with stiff elegance and care to the kerb.

Raising a hand to hail a fly cab, settling with some grace into the first one that hovered to a stop.

But not before Xion, moving at meta speed like a whisper of wind, ghosted to her side, undetected.

He flung a cloud of unseen cybernetic markers over her sleek crown and moved back into the shadows in milliseconds.

The hire flyer pulled out and disappeared into the bustling city with its labyrinthine streets.