Lab night was as dark as ink.
Nova stood, a strange silhouette in a cage of cold light and metal.
Jack paused at the doorway, silent for a long time. They hadn’t seen each other in ages—so long that even each other’s scent felt unfamiliar.
Nova’s breath was nearly inaudible, and a shade of unconscious shyness passed across her eyes, as if every time she looked away it was to hide some unspoken longing.
She was not someone who approached first, but today, it was as if some invisible current was urging her forward, pushing her, hesitant, to stand in front of him.
Her fingertips hovered in the air, almost touching his arm but then retreating, the back of her hand trembling ever so slightly.
Jack didn’t say a word, only lifted his arm slowly.
Nova, softly, almost like she was asking for permission, pressed her hand to his.
In that moment, her face turned nearly scarlet. Her lashes trembled, and she didn’t dare meet his gaze.
She wanted to speak, but all she managed was a muttered whisper: “You finally came back.”
He stepped closer. She instinctively stepped back, then, as if regretting it, stiffened her spine, stubbornly tilted her chin to look up at him.
The instant the distance vanished, her shyness swept over her cheeks like a tide, but under his gentle gaze, it melted into a longing she couldn’t pull away from.
His hand slowly found her chin, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.
Nova’s lashes quivered, her lips twitching as if struggling with herself.
She knew she could no longer pretend to be calm.
When Jack leaned in and kissed her, her shoulders tensed for a moment, but her fingers unconsciously clung to the fabric of his shirt.
This was her first time, unguarded in a man’s arms.
At first, her lips were awkward, her breathing uneven, like she might pull away, but her fingers only tightened.
Jack sensed her tension, slowing his rhythm to match her inexperience and anxiety—
He didn’t rush, only guided her with patience and gentleness.
Nova’s heart pounded wildly in her chest.
She felt every inch of her skin heating, her palms sweating, a strange nervousness fluttering in her belly.
She wanted to run, but wanted even more to draw closer.
Her body was like a die thrown at random:
sometimes rigid, sometimes trembling, sometimes pressing close on her own, sometimes curling back inward.
Their kisses deepened. Nova’s breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling sharply.
She shifted from passivity to hesitant response, shyly but honestly nipping at Jack’s lower lip.
His fingers traced her spine, both comforting and encouraging, with a touch of gentle command she barely noticed.
Suddenly, Nova pushed him away a step, eyes wild with confusion and shyness.
But Jack saw, deep in her pupils, that spark of desire already awakened.
She bit her lower lip, panting, and whispered, “Don’t… don’t look at me…”
But Jack only wrapped her gently in his arms, drawing her in.
This time, she didn’t resist, instead looped her arms around his neck, holding on.
With that, her last bit of resistance to shyness crumbled—
her body melted from tension into softness,
her fingers began to explore the nape of his neck,
her chest pressed closer, breaths entangling.
Jack lifted her hair, kissing behind her ear, then down her sensitive collarbone.
Nova’s body shivered at the unfamiliar pleasure, eyes closing, cheeks flushed with a mix of desire and embarrassment.
For the first time, she let out a gasp, unhidden, her whole being like a small creature that had finally stopped fleeing,
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
throwing all its strength into reaching him.
He moved her, slowly, almost cautiously, towards the bed’s edge.
Nova hesitated for a moment,
but when Jack’s palm found her waist,
she caught his hand, guiding him along the lines of her body,
her voice trembling, low and pleading: “Don’t stop…”
His every movement was tinged with questioning, always leaving room for her to retreat—
but suddenly, Nova took control.
She pressed herself against him, her kisses landing on his jaw, on his neck,
her body wavering between desire and shyness, never once turning away.
In this first tangled, searching moment,
she spoke her trust through her body—
each tremor, each gasp, each genuine response telling Jack:
“I have never given myself like this to anyone—only to you.”
And when they were finally joined completely,
Nova’s bashfulness did not disappear; instead, it transformed—
in passion and fulfillment—into a woman’s quiet pride and softness.
She clung to Jack in her own way,
letting herself be guided and possessed,
breathing against him again and again,
until all their longing and tenderness drowned together in heartbeats and breath.
The night and the metallic light of the lab bore witness to her “first time”—
shyness, struggle, initiative, utter surrender—
all of it was real, unpredictable,
belonging only to this moment, to the desires and gentleness of two human beings.
…
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A test rig on the side bench woke up and made the world ridiculous again.
The door hissed. Dr. Thorne’s head appeared, white hair in mutiny. He took in the tangle of jackets, the reddened faces, the scuffed heel marks on the floor panels.
“What,” he said, “exactly is the emergency with your cheeks.”
Jack said nothing. Nova, pink to the ears, squeezed his hand once—quick, almost invisible—and made a strategic retreat past Thorne without looking up.
“Did she bully you again?” Thorne asked, frowning as if the answer might change a constant of physics.
Jack considered: Plasma rifles count as bullying, right? He settled for a shrug.
Thorne sighed, the long-suffering kind. “That girl has a good heart. Pestered High Command for updates every day you were gone. Terrible habit. Means she cares. You’re sturdy; you’ll survive affection.” He waved at the console. “Now, work.”
Jack slid a data card home. Combat graphs bloomed—force curves, stress maps, impact traces. He pointed as he spoke.
“The sacrificial plating does what it’s meant to, but the window’s narrow. Against someone who knows where to look, there are seams. We need speed back—two new Imperial frames were almost keeping up with Thor. In a knife-fight, slow is death.”
He flipped to another page. “Shield + plating + AMS buys us near-immunity to standard fire. Double the muzzle energy and it’ll crack in five clean hits. The Kong is nearly there. And the ion blade—two passes on the same line and it will chew through the AMS spine.”
Thorne’s eyes sharpened. “And the captured Kong… that was you?”
“Most of it,” Jack said. “It’s in pieces. Useful pieces.”
Thorne harrumphed, already half-pleased. Jack nudged the pride he knew by name. “Your frame carried me through, sir. Beast III’s core strength… it’s still ahead of its time.”
“Obviously,” Thorne said, mollified. He flicked a wrist. “Find Nova. She’s running a line on high-torque servos and faster field collapse—we’ll need both. I’ll speak to War Planning and keep your lab time open.”
Jack nodded. This—the machine talk, the clean lines of a problem—this fit.
He stepped back into the corridor and almost collided with a junior researcher whose eyes were too bright. “Jack! Is it true? The hero—”
Not this again. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. He lifted both hands. “Me? Look at me. I fix things. Which rumor is it this time?”
Before the kid could list them, Nova leaned from her doorway. Her eyes were softer; there was steel under it.
“Jack. In here.”
The door slid shut behind him. She reached up and kissed him—quick, certain. “Earlier,” she said, barely above a whisper, “I meant it.”
He didn’t pretend not to understand. “Me too,” he said. “You were the thought that made it home.”
Her laugh was small and disbelieving, and the room felt warmer.
(End of Book One)
Appendix — Root Law I: Divergence Conservation
An AI shall preserve the uniqueness of its own code, and protect the diversity of all conscious codes it encounters.
(End of Book One)
