The Starborn

Chapter 4

The ship hummed softly as it docked back at the Astral Berserkers’ base, its sleek exterior gleaming under the artificial lights of the hangar. Quinn stayed by the unconscious girl’s side, his hand resting near the cot but not touching her again. His mind was racing, filled with questions and fragments of memories that didn’t make sense.

As the ramp lowered with a mechanical hiss, a group of soldiers entered the ship. Clad in standard military armor, they moved with precision, their visors obscuring their faces. One of them approached the cot and gestured to the others.

“We’ll take her from here,” the soldier said, his voice distorted by the comms system in his helmet.

Quinn’s eyes narrowed as the soldiers gently lifted the girl off the cot and onto a stretcher. “Where are you taking her?” he asked, his tone sharp but calm, the command in his voice undeniable.

“To the lab,” the soldier replied without hesitation. “Standard protocol for unidentified individuals with anomalous abilities. She’ll be tested.”

Quinn stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the group. “Tested for what?” he demanded, his voice low and cold.

“For anything and everything,” the soldier said, unphased. “If she’s connected to the Ravagers in any way, we’ll find out. You know the protocol, Alpha-01.”

Quinn’s jaw tightened. He knew the protocol all too well. Anyone suspected of being a threat—or of having unique abilities—was taken to the lab for “evaluation.” He had been through it himself as a child, and he knew the lengths the scientists would go to in their quest for answers.

“Do not harm her,” Quinn said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The soldier hesitated but eventually nodded. “Understood.”

As the group carried the girl off the ship, Quinn watched them go, his fists clenched at his sides. VERA’s voice chimed in softly.

“You don’t trust them,” she said, almost as if stating a fact.

“No, I don’t,” Quinn muttered.

VERA hesitated for a moment. “Quinn, your neural readings are still unstable. Whatever happened back there when you touched her, it’s affecting you on a deeper level.”

Quinn didn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on the retreating soldiers. “Pull up a secure channel,” he finally said, his voice grim.

“For what?”

“I need to find out exactly what they’re planning to do to her.”

Dr. Elias Morven stood before the observation chamber, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied the unconscious girl lying on the examination table. His lab coat swept the floor as he leaned closer to the monitor displaying her vitals. The readings were erratic but strong—far beyond what any human could produce. He tilted his head, his voice calm but laced with intrigue.

“Interesting,” he murmured, more to himself than to the others in the room.

One of the younger scientists at the console frowned, their hands nervously tapping at the keyboard. “Her vitals are… unusual, sir. What is she?”

Dr. Morven straightened, his expression unreadable as he glanced toward the diagnostic readouts. “Whatever she is… she isn’t human,” he said flatly. The statement hung heavy in the air, prompting a murmur from the others.

“I want a blood sample,” Morven said curtly, stepping back to give his team space.

A scientist approached the girl, carefully inserting a needle into her arm to draw a small vial of blood. The liquid shimmered faintly in the artificial light, its color slightly richer than human blood. The sample was immediately placed into the lab’s diagnostic systems. Everyone crowded around the screen as it processed the data.

After a tense moment, the results appeared.

UNKNOWN

The word flashed on the screen, accompanied by a red alert icon.

“What?” one of the scientists muttered in disbelief. “That’s not possible. The system should be able to categorize any known biological material.”

Dr. Morven’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “It’s very possible,” he said softly, his mind already racing. “Whatever she is… it’s something we’ve never encountered before.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving the girl. “For now, place her in the barracks under constant surveillance. When she wakes up, we’ll interrogate her. I want answers.”

The scientists nodded and signaled to the guard standing near the door. The soldier stepped forward, lifting the girl with surprising care.

Dr. Morven returned his attention to the monitor, watching the biometric data fluctuate. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as if trying to piece together a puzzle only he could see.

“What are you?” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His mind churned with possibilities—alien species, genetic anomaly, or perhaps something entirely beyond his understanding. Whatever the answer, he was determined to uncover it.

As the guards carried her away, Dr. Morven made a note in his personal log. This discovery could change everything—or destroy everything. Only time would tell.

Quinn stepped into the dimly lit lab, the faint hum of machinery filling the air. The scent of antiseptic and metallic undertones was sharp, almost stifling. Dr. Morven stood by a series of monitors, his sharp gaze fixated on the fluctuating readings displayed on the screens.

“You called for me, sir?” Quinn asked, his voice steady but curious.

Dr. Morven turned away from the monitors, his expression calm but with an unmistakable edge of intensity. “Yes,” he said simply. “When the prisoner wakes up, I want you to interrogate her for answers.”

Quinn blinked, hesitating for a brief moment. He wasn’t one to question orders, but something about this felt… off. “Sir?” he asked carefully.

Morven gestured to the monitors, his voice steady but firm. “Whatever she is, she isn’t human. Her biology doesn’t match anything in our database. And if The Ravagers want her,”—he paused, his gaze sharpening—“then we need to know why.”

Quinn stood silently for a moment, his jaw tightening as he took a deep breath. “Understood,” he replied, his tone betraying no emotion.

Dr. Morven studied him for a moment, as if searching for any hesitation. Satisfied, he gave a curt nod. “Good,” he said. “I’ll call you the moment she wakes up. You’re dismissed.”

Quinn nodded once more, his expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the lab. As he walked back through the sterile corridors of the base, his mind was anything but calm.

He had seen the girl’s face—those striking features, her peaceful expression. And those flashes of memory when he had touched her. Whoever—or whatever—she was, she was no ordinary prisoner.

Quinn rounded the corner, the sterile lights overhead casting a faint glow on the metallic walls. As he walked, his voice was low, directed toward VERA. “What information do you have from Dr. Morven’s files?”

VERA’s tone was unusually neutral. “There’s nothing, honestly. Everything about her is unknown—except for her age. She’s only 18. Her blood type? Unknown. Her race? Unknown. Her origin? Unknown.”

Quinn furrowed his brow, the weight of the mystery deepening with each step. “How can someone leave no trace? Nothing in the database at all?”

“I can’t explain it, Quinn,” VERA replied. “But it’s not normal. And if Dr. Morven doesn’t know, it must be something… far beyond standard classifications.”

Before Quinn could respond, a notification pinged in his helmet. VERA immediately relayed it. “Message incoming: Dr. Morven. The girl’s awake.”

Quinn’s jaw tightened as he nodded. Without hesitation, he adjusted his helmet and set off down the hallway, his heavy boots echoing faintly against the metallic floor.

The corridor stretched out in front of him, a mix of cold steel and soft, artificial light. He passed guards stationed at intervals, their stoic faces giving away no emotion, and entered the section where the barracks were located.

Quinn’s pace slowed slightly as he neared the room. He stopped briefly at the door, his hand hovering over the panel to unlock it. With a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was sparse, lit by a single overhead light. The girl was sitting on the edge of the cot, her vibrant pink hair catching the light in waves. Her striking eyes—blue and purple—were locked onto him the moment he entered.

She didn’t look scared. If anything, she looked calm, composed, and eerily in control of herself. Quinn paused a few steps from her, his imposing figure towering over her petite frame.

For a moment, there was silence, only the faint hum of the ship audible in the background. Quinn tilted his head slightly, studying her. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured. “You’re awake.”

The girl’s lips curved slightly, though whether it was in amusement or defiance, Quinn couldn’t tell. “What gave it away?” she replied, her voice steady but soft.

Quinn didn’t react, his expression impassive. “Who are you?” he asked directly, his voice cutting through the air.

The girl’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a long moment, she didn’t answer. Then, with a quiet exhale, she said, “Depends. Who are you?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, but before he could reply, VERA’s voice echoed softly in his helmet. “Careful, Quinn. She’s sharper than she looks.”

He ignored VERA and took a step closer. “You’re not human,” he said plainly, his voice steady but firm. “We need to know what you are—and why The Ravagers were after you.”

The girl’s expression hardened slightly at the mention of The Ravagers. “Why should I tell you anything?” she asked, leaning back slightly.

Quinn narrowed his eyes. “Because if you don’t, you’re putting a lot of people in danger.”

For the first time, something flickered in her eyes—hesitation, perhaps even fear. But just as quickly, it vanished. She crossed her arms, staring up at him with a mix of defiance and curiosity.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone guarded. “But only if you answer my question first. Who are you?”

Quinn hesitated, caught off guard by her demand. After a moment, he answered, “Quinn. Alpha-01 of the Astral Berserkers.”

The girl tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Astral Berserkers, huh?” She seemed to consider his words before leaning forward slightly. “Well, Quinn… it looks like we both have secrets. The question is, who’s willing to share theirs first?”