I slid into the peak on the heels of a jaunty canter, sampling its thrills in the grasp of an excitement born of adrenaline and novelty and freedom. We prize our liberties in different ways, be it choice of partner, ability to wake each day and pursue our own selfish needs, or the simple luxury of taking our own four hooves and pounding turf until snaking rivulets of sweat adorn our fur and we wear a mantle of steam. I’d lived six years of these delicious liberties and wasn’t about to discontinue them. The Vulcans would suit me,as the Amazons and Kakuna had suited me before the fates had played us all for the pawns we were.


Everything was lush, pregnant with foliage. Tiger barked trees angled heavy heads away from the hounding wind whilst quartz pools of trapped water glittered between their roots. I smelt salt and horse and heard the song of the grasses, their ends bleached blonde, imbibing it like a gentleman with the finest liquor. I missed nothing, gave away nothing.
I drew to a still, head lifted, ears pricked, resembling a pointer that had scented a trail. A lonesome dark mare, apparently a newcomer just I was. Excellent. I paused for one second to analyse her stance, her posture, but saw nothing of worry or note. Years of intelligence work had moulded me perfectly for making snap decisions. Everything in an environment fed me a steady stream of information that was snipped and stored or discarded; colours, voices, phrases, markings, landmarks could be recalled on demand; this process was fluid, unthinking. I tended to mull them over when the world quietened, or as I wandered. I spoke three languages and a flawless accent in two. I could tell the time of day by the angle of the sun and I navigated by my namesake, the stars.


My birth had been a welcome accident, my life one of survival and necessity. I made friends, but rarely. Horses tended to serve a function. Companion. Confidant. Director. Messenger. Lover. Barbed memories jabbed my muscles, a ripple of unease unfurling itself in my chest like an awakening arachnid. Why was I thinking of that now? I tossed my head, as though annoyed by a fly. I’d been alone too long. Silly move, Nova. I was on a mission now. The quickest access to any system was intravenously; find the life-blood and you’re 90% there. With the Vulcans, this meant horses. Double the horses, double the dose.




I drew up to the dark mare, who like myself appeared to be distracted behind the foggy glaze of thought. A warm chuckle left my lips, rustling the gossamer hairs of my muzzle. It was a genuine sound, deep and happy, punctuating the silence with gentle demand. I’d surprised myself again. Sort it out, Nova. Burned amber lashes tipped themselves over tawny eyes that brimmed with an aloof intelligence and charm.


“You’re new to these parts too? I’m Nova.” Cutting to the chase was my specialty.




My voice was rich, thickened with a slightly foreign accent and husky as though I’d had a cold for days. The voice of a grand duchess, my mother had told me. Shame I was a petite 15hh then wasn’t it. Left scope for underestimation however. I never underestimated the power of THAT.