The Starborn

Chapter 8

The rhythmic hum of the shuttle was broken only by the occasional beep of the navigational systems. Elaris was still a few hours away, and the silence inside the cockpit gave Quinn too much time to think.

VERA spoke again, breaking his train of thought. “I’ve sent a ping to Miranda’s last known coordinates on Elaris. If she’s still there, she’ll respond once we’re in range.”

Quinn nodded silently, his thoughts straying back to Nova. A refugee planet was the best option for her, especially with someone like Miranda who understood how to stay hidden. But doubt clawed at him. Would Miranda agree to help? Would Nova even be safe there if the Ravagers or Aegis decided to pursue her?

As if sensing his unease, VERA added, “You’ve always had good instincts, Quinn. But this… this is a risk, even for you.”

Quinn exhaled sharply, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m not doing this for me, VERA. The girl didn’t ask for this. If Aegis wants to execute her, there’s something bigger going on. And if the Ravagers want her, it’s even worse.”

“And you’re just the lone soldier to step in and save the day?” VERA asked, her tone equal parts sarcastic and serious.

“Something like that,” he replied quietly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite the tension.

Behind him, Nova stirred awake. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with her gloved hands. “Where are we?” she asked groggily, her voice cutting through the quiet.

“En route to Elaris,” Quinn replied without turning.

“Elaris?” Nova’s tone shifted, her curiosity piqued.

Quinn glanced over his shoulder. “It’s a refugee planet. A safe place for people running from… well, everything. I know someone there who can help us figure out what to do next.”

Nova frowned, her guard still up. “And what’s in it for you?”

Quinn turned fully to face her, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing. I’m not doing this for a reward.”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “So you’re just the galaxy’s good Samaritan, huh? An Astral Berserker defying orders to save a random girl?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t have a choice. Aegis ordered your execution.”

That made her pause, her expression faltering for a moment. She looked away, her voice quieter now. “I figured they would.”

Quinn studied her reaction, trying to gauge what was going on behind her striking blue and purple eyes. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not,” Nova admitted, her tone clipped. “People either want to use me or kill me. Sometimes both.”

VERA interjected, her voice softer than usual over the shuttles intercom. “You’re not wrong about that. But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Nova glanced up toward the voice, frowning. “Your AI has an opinion?”

“She always does,” Quinn said, half-smiling.

Nova leaned back on the bench, her eyes narrowing. “And what’s your opinion? Why are you really helping me?”

Quinn hesitated. He could have told her it was just the right thing to do, or that he was following a gut instinct. But as her piercing gaze locked onto his, he found himself admitting, “Because there’s something about you I don’t understand. And I’m not leaving you to die because Aegis or the Ravagers don’t know how to handle it.”

Nova blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her expression unreadable. Then, quietly, she said, “Thanks.”

Quinn nodded once and turned back to the controls.

The silence settled between them again, but this time it wasn’t as tense. It was interrupted only when VERA announced, “We’re two hours out from Elaris. Let’s hope Miranda is ready for this.”

Quinn glanced at Nova through the corner of his eye. “Me too.”

“Quinn, your body temperature is spiking,” VERA’s voice echoed softly in his head. “I recommend removing your armor and taking a cool shower. Prolonged overheating can strain even enhanced physiology.”

Quinn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine,” he muttered, setting the autopilot to maintain course. He stood, leaving the cockpit and heading to the rear section of the shuttle where the small living quarters were located. Nova sat quietly at the table, picking at the remains of her ration bar, her eyes darting curiously toward him as he moved past.

As he began removing his armor, faint hissing sounds filled the air with every release of the pressurized seals. Piece by piece, the sleek black plates that had been molded to his body were carefully set aside, revealing the under-armor beneath—a second skin of matte black fabric. It clung to every inch of him like it was painted on, accentuating his broad shoulders, the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his defined abs, and every taut muscle in his arms and thighs. The suit left nothing to the imagination, even highlighting the powerful contour of his groin.

Nova’s pulse quickened as she caught a glimpse of him. She sucked in a breath and held it, her heart thudding in her chest. She quickly looked away, trying to mask her reaction, but the heat rising to her cheeks betrayed her.

Quinn, oblivious to her flustered state, carried the heavy pieces of his armor into a storage compartment before turning toward the small shower room. The door hissed open as he entered, and he slid it closed behind him.

Inside the cramped space, Quinn removed the under-armor in privacy, the fabric peeling away from his skin. The cold air in the room hit him, but he felt nothing. The chip implanted in his spine dulled any sensation of discomfort or relief. He stepped into the shower and turned on the cold water, letting it cascade over his body. The temperature was freezing—enough to make most people shiver uncontrollably—but to Quinn, it was merely a habit, a routine his body needed but couldn’t fully register.

He pressed his hands against the wall, leaning forward under the stream of water, his thoughts drifting. The events of the past few days played in his mind like a broken recording, particularly Nova’s words about her visions. He wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to her. Was it because of what she could do, or was it something deeper, something he couldn’t explain?

As the water streamed over his shoulders and down his back, he closed his eyes, allowing himself a rare moment of quiet. It wouldn’t last long—nothing ever did for him. But for now, he let the artificial numbness of the cold water take him.

His mind drifted back to the moment he touched Nova’s face in the chaos of the base. The images that had flashed in his mind haunted him. He had never experienced anything like it.

They came in fragmented bursts—fleeting, blurred, but vivid enough to leave a mark. A child’s laughter echoed in a sunlit field, a sense of warmth and safety washing over him. Then the field shifted, replaced by darkness, screaming, and fire. The sound of gunfire, desperate voices calling out names, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue—it was overwhelming.

Were they his memories?

He tried to piece them together, but the edges didn’t fit. The field felt familiar, almost too familiar, as if it were something he had long buried.

The memory—or vision—shifted again. The boy was crying, reaching out, but the woman and man were gone. The sky was black, ships hovered in the air, and the ground was scorched. The boy’s tears fell silently, his small hands clutching a torn piece of cloth.

Quinn clenched his fists, the muscles in his forearms tensing. What the hell was that?

He tried to think back to his own childhood, but it was a haze. The military had stripped most of it away—replaced with training, discipline, and the cold, unfeeling existence of being an Astral Berserker. He didn’t even know if he had memories like those anymore.

He shut off the water, stepping out into the cool air and grabbing a towel. Drying himself off, he stared at his reflection in the small, fogged mirror. His eyes were sharper than before, as if the memories—or visions—had left an imprint on him.

“VERA,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Quinn?” her calm voice responded.

“When I touched Nova’s face back on the base… I saw things.” He paused, staring at his reflection. “Memories, visions—whatever they were. Can you pull anything from the chip? Any explanation for what I experienced?”

VERA hesitated. “Your neural chip didn’t record anything unusual during that moment. The overload you experienced suggests it was her ability—not yours. If she truly sees past, present, and future… then those were likely your memories. Or fragments of them.”

Quinn tightened his jaw. The boy’s crying face flickered in his mind again, and he felt something stir deep in his chest. It wasn’t anger or fear—it was something he couldn’t name.

Quinn dried off and began dressing in his under-armor once again. His mind raced with questions he couldn’t yet answer. He had to know more. If those visions were truly caused by Nova, then what else was she hiding? And if they were somehow his… what did that mean?

“VERA,” he said as he stepped out of the shower room, his voice firm. “Keep an eye on her vitals. If she remembers anything else—or if I see something again—I want to know.”

“Understood, Quinn,” VERA replied.

He looked toward Nova, sleeping on the bench. Whatever her past was, whatever she had seen—it had made her a target. And now, it had made him one too.