Estrella De Asís
Copyright© 2025 by Jody Daniel
Chapter 32
It was a lazy Saturday Morning at the end of August. The day started bright and early for me. I had some little errands to run. Not anything pressing, but those little things that kept falling by the wayside and before you know it, you have a full schedule that will consume most of your time.
But now I was waiting on the rest of the household to emerge and we can get down to breakfast. Since the demise of Anderson and Khassoun, things were quiet on the western front. Ash had offered Fiona and me the use of one of the vacant five-bedroom houses on the Wolvenkopft Estate. This was for us to be near Stella while she was “healing” and “recuperating.” An arrangement that proved to be semi-permanent.
Stella was under the “treatment” of Zara, with Roxy hovering in the background. Fiona and I knew that part of Zara’s “treatment” was to establish a firewall to safeguard the Elara-Matrix and to “upload” a waterproof identity for Stella. Zara was a geek. A computer science PhD specialising in artificial Intelligence.
Stella’s body and synthetic skin was rebuilt from scratch and that took some time, but the end result was a work of art. Not only did Stella have her old looks back, but her skin now boasted not only colour changing pigments to depict pale skin when cold and pink skin when she was at room temperature. She now also had the ability to blush.
Another improvement was that Stella now could “eat” and “drink”. How that worked in practice, I did not want to know. But during the short times she spent with Fiona and me, I was astounded at how human-like she became. Even her speech and language use improved and the old AI like responses were something of the past. Stella could now be fully integrated sociability in a human society.
It was scary. Very scary.
Paging through the information pages on the International Journalistic Society web-page, I tried to keep up with the goings on in the world. A journalist’s job of research and information gathering is never done.
On the 6th of August 2024 Ukraine launched a major attack deep inside Russia. Putin retaliated by saying that the Ukrainian operation is a bid to undermine Russia’s stability. “Asshole! Putin and Russia are the freaking aggressor! Fuck out of Ukraine...” I thought to myself.
A journalist is supposed to be objective, but how objective can you be with aggressors that intentionally invade another sovereignty, killing innocent women and children and then proclaim themselves the victims!
Take Hamas for instance. The asshole cowards. Hiding behind the skirts of women. Typical terrorists. Can’t even sustain a military conflict against a military institution. They had to attack a music festival. A music festival for ducks fake!
I closed my tablet before I started to overreact on the assholes in the world. Politics are just for those that don’t make it in the real world. If you can’t be a successful doctor, engineer, veterinarian, journalist, author of fine literature works, or a financial tycoon, then you become a politician.
I did not mention successful lawyers – they are a breed of their own. They either make it, like Advocate Arno “Dusty” De Lange SC – or join the cesspit of politics.
I sighed and took a sip of my now lukewarm coffee.
“Penny for your thoughts?” A soft husky voice spoke near me and the next minute Fiona dropped onto the sofa beside me.
“Nothing that would interest that brilliant mind of yours,” I replied.
“You never got to do what you came to do here in Cape Town,” Fiona said. More of a statement than a question.
“Not that it matters,” I replied. “Look at the adventure I had and the treasure I found.”
“The Star is not a treasure...”
“I wasn’t speaking of the Star...”
“Oh, and what other treasure are you speaking about?”
“You! I found you. And I’m going to keep you,” I said to her, meaning full well what I wanted to say. What I got was Fiona flopping over and kissing me I was afraid that she would set fire to the furniture.
“I love you the most!” She replied when we came up for air.
“And, I love you more...”
“So, what now?” How are we going to sustain this long distance relationship?”
“Easy. I go where you go, where you want to go.”
“True. You could run your job from about anywhere...” She replied but there was a far-off glint in her eyes, so as if she saw through the fog of the future.
A quiet set in between us. Each with his own thoughts for a little while. Then:
“I spoke to Ash,” Fiona began.
“About what?”
“About us.”
“Us?”
“You, me, and ... Stella...”
“You, me and Stella?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me...”
“I am considering that professorship post at Stellenbosch. It would get me out of that junior position at UP and have me do what I always wanted to do, and I’ll be near my mom and dad.”
I swallowed. “You want to stay in Cape Town? And Stella? How does she fit into your plans?”
“Ash consented to have her help me in my research. She’s now fully integrated and almost 97% human. In fact, I believe Ash is scared of her.”
“Well, it is scary what she is capable of and how she evolved.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Why thanks to me?”
“You were the one to lead her to become what she became. She’s in love with you in her own way. She might not know the full meaning of it, but she will always be loyal to you. She said so.”
“WHAT! But ... But how am I going to handle that?”
“We, you and me, will adopt her as our strange and wonderful daughter.”
“That’s a thought, but that means ... that we ... have to get ... married.”
“It’s a thought,” Fiona giggled. “So, propose to me and don’t worry ... the answer will be – YES!”
And so began a journey – a journey of three souls. I say “souls”, as a family of two humans and a humanoid ... A journey I never envisioned.
MAN! I love them both!
The future for the Reasor family. Where they went and what happened to the Star of Assisi.
The year was 2731. In the endless black above the emerald-and-gold sphere of Eldori47, the FLO Galactic Wanderer rested in her geostationary cradle, a titan of gleaming alloys and radiant energy fields. Beyond her armoured flanks, her escort flotilla — seven Vanguard-class Destroyers — held station in a perfect defensive lattice, a silent net of steel and light around their flagship. From above, it might have looked like a constellation newly born, a geometric halo in the dark. Only the masked eight ship was not visible. Like a nuclear submarine of the 20th century, the FLO Odessa III was hiding herself under the masking cloak of shields, but ready to strike if any hostile action would arise – silent – stealthy – and formidable.
The diplomatic mission was concluded, and her engines idled with the patient vibration of a predator between hunts. Cargo barges came and went in a steady ballet, latching onto the ship’s multiple docking arms to replenish her cavernous holds. Repair drones traced delicate arcs along her hull, patching and tuning after months of interstellar travel.
The mission had been a triumph. The Federation of Intergalactic Unions had entrusted the Foundation for Law and Order with the transport and protection of a high council envoy to Eldori47, a task fraught with political tension and the threat of hostile interception. Against all odds, and under the shadow of distant but watchful enemies, the negotiations with the Empire Government of Eldori47 had concluded in peace. For now, the Orion sector would remain stable, and the Empire of Eldori47 and her interconnected planets in the Orion system would be a formidable ally in the fight against rogue forces and crime syndicates. Trade between the Union member worlds and Eldori47 was also negotiated and instated.
Now, the Galactic Wanderer prepared for her long return to the edge of the Solar System — her home station, Station U14, drifting in the cold expanse just beyond the orbit of Uranus in the Solar System of the Milky Way Galaxy.
From her private ready room, the Admiral stood at a wide porthole, watching the night side of Eldori47 holding geometric station beneath them. The surface shimmered faintly with the scattered lights of its great cities, while the darkness of its oceans swallowed the rest. Then, like the slow lifting of a cosmic curtain, the first burning edge of Alpha Ori — known to Earth as Betelgeuse — began to crest the curve of the planet. Its crimson-gold brilliance painted the clouds in molten fire. Pulsing with the age of a dying star. But that is still millions of years away.
For a moment, the Admiral allowed herself the rarest of luxuries: stillness. No orders. No tactical overlays. Just the beauty of a star rising over a world that had, for now, chosen peace.
The soft chime of an incoming communication broke the silence. A message scrolled across her console, sealed with the triple insignia of the Most High Command. She read it twice.
The Foundation and the Intergalactic Unions Most High Command hereby extend congratulations to you and every soul under your command. Your loyalty, courage, and diligence have secured the safe passage of our envoy and the successful completion of negotiations with the Empire Command of Eldori47. You are hereby ordered to return to Earth for scheduled maintenance of your fleet. During this period, the full strength of Battle Force 88 will be granted leave. At your convenience, disengage from the Orion System and proceed with all speed to Command Centre Earth.