The Starborn

Chapter 16

The small emergency ship hummed softly as it glided through the void of space, a peaceful contrast to the chaos they had left behind. The journey to Togon Bay was a long one, and silence filled the cockpit, broken only by the occasional update from VERA about their course.

Nova shifted in her seat, fidgeting with the edge of her gloves. The quiet was beginning to weigh on her, her thoughts spiraling as they always did when there was nothing to distract her. She glanced at Quinn, who sat motionless at the controls, his helmet resting beside him.

Finally, she spoke, her voice hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

Quinn turned his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto her. “Go ahead.”

Nova hesitated, searching for the right words. “You said you can’t feel emotions because of the chip. But… do you at least know what they are? I mean, do you understand them?”

Quinn’s hands relaxed on the controls as he considered her question. “I know what emotions are,” he said, his tone neutral. “I know that when people are in pain, they cry. When something is funny, they laugh. When they’re scared, their heart races. It’s all… logical to me. Cause and effect.”

Nova tilted her head, studying him. “But you don’t know how they feel?”

Quinn shook his head. “No. I can’t process the sensations tied to those reactions. I can observe them, understand them intellectually, but they don’t register in me.”

She frowned, her fingers tightening on the armrest. “Doesn’t that bother you? Not knowing what it’s like to feel anything?”

Quinn leaned back slightly, his gaze distant. “It’s not like I remember what it was like before the chip. Aegis wiped my memories when I was six. By the time I was eight, they had already installed the first version of the chip. Whatever I might’ve felt back then… it’s gone.”

Nova’s expression softened, and she leaned forward slightly. “But you’re still human. Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to feel? To laugh, cry, love…?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, his voice low. “Sometimes. There are moments where the chip doesn’t suppress everything completely. Brief flickers of something—like echoes of what I should be feeling. But they’re fleeting. Never enough to make sense of them.”

Nova’s chest ached at the sadness she sensed in his words, even if his face remained impassive. “What about anger?” she asked gently. “Do you ever feel that?”

Quinn’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in them. “Anger is easier,” he admitted. “It’s more… primal. The chip still suppresses it, but it’s harder to contain. That’s why Aegis designed us this way. Soldiers who can channel just enough aggression to fight, but not enough to question orders.”

Nova swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And what about happiness? Do you think you’ve ever felt that?”

Quinn was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the stars outside the viewport. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Maybe. If I did, I wouldn’t have known what it was.”

Nova leaned back in her seat, her heart heavy. She couldn’t imagine a life without the ability to feel, to experience the highs and lows that made them who they were. “That’s no way to live,” she murmured.

Quinn turned his head toward her, his expression unreadable. “It’s not living,” he said quietly. “It’s surviving.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then VERA’s voice broke the silence. “Approaching Togon Bay’s outer atmosphere. Prepare for entry.”

Quinn straightened in his seat, his hands moving over the controls. “Buckle up,” he said, his tone shifting back to the steady, commanding voice Nova was used to.

She obeyed, but her mind lingered on their conversation, her thoughts spinning. How could someone like him—someone who had endured so much, who had been stripped of so much—still hold onto his humanity? She looked at him, the stoic warrior who seemed so untouchable, and wondered if she might be the one to help him find what he had lost.

As the emergency ship approached Togon Bay, the view outside the cockpit began to shift. The swirling colors of the Helix Galaxy gave way to a chaotic expanse of anomalies surrounding the planet. Pulses of energy crackled in the void like miniature storms, and massive gravitational distortions rippled across the blackness, bending starlight into eerie arcs.

Quinn’s jaw tightened as he gripped the controls. “This is going to be rough,” he muttered, more to himself than to Nova. His eyes darted over the display screens, analyzing the erratic energy readings and mapping a safe trajectory.

Nova glanced nervously out the viewport, the swirling chaos sending a shiver down her spine. “What are those?”

“Spatial anomalies,” Quinn replied without taking his eyes off the controls. “Unstable pockets of gravity and energy. They’re unpredictable, and one wrong move can tear this ship apart.”

VERA chimed in, her tone precise. “Warning: anomaly density increasing ahead. Recommending evasive maneuvers.”

Quinn’s fingers danced across the console, adjusting the ship’s speed and angle. He leaned forward, scanning the path ahead. “We’re not going around them. It’ll take too long. We’re going straight through.”

Nova’s eyes widened. “Straight through? Are you serious?”

Quinn glanced at her briefly, his expression calm. “I’ve navigated worse.”

The ship jolted as it entered the first anomaly field, a wave of energy washing over the hull. Nova gripped the armrests of her seat, her knuckles turning white.

“Brace yourself,” Quinn said, his voice steady despite the chaos.

He guided the ship through the first anomaly with surgical precision, tilting the vessel just enough to let the energy pulses glide harmlessly along its shields. The ship shuddered but held steady.

“Adjusting trajectory,” VERA announced. “Next anomaly cluster ahead in thirty seconds.”

Quinn’s hands never faltered, his focus unshakable. He angled the ship to avoid a sudden gravitational spike, the viewport flickering as starlight distorted around them. “Hold tight,” he said, banking sharply to the right.

Nova’s heart pounded as the ship skimmed the edge of a glowing energy field. She could see tendrils of light licking at the hull, like a living thing trying to pull them in. “How are you so calm right now?” she asked, her voice tight.

“I was trained for this,” Quinn replied. “The chip helps with focus. No distractions, no fear.”

Nova bit her lip, watching in awe as he navigated with near-superhuman precision. The ship dodged another anomaly, then another, each movement deliberate and calculated.

Suddenly, VERA’s voice broke through. “Severe gravitational distortion ahead. Recalculating optimal path.”

Quinn’s eyes flicked to the screen, the display showing a massive ripple in space just ahead. “We’re cutting it close,” he said. “Strap in tighter.”

Nova obeyed, pulling her harness tighter as the ship plunged toward the distortion. The gravity well loomed ahead, a swirling vortex of light and shadow that seemed to defy physics.

Quinn pulled back on the controls, his muscles tensing as he angled the ship upward. The engines roared in protest as the gravitational pull tried to drag them in. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath, his hands steady despite the strain.

The ship strained against the pull, its shields flaring as they skimmed the edge of the vortex. Nova’s breath caught as the viewport filled with a dazzling display of swirling light. For a moment, it felt like they were on the verge of being swallowed whole.

Then, with a final burst of power, the ship broke free. The vortex disappeared behind them, and the chaos of the anomaly field began to fade.

Quinn exhaled slowly, his grip on the controls relaxing. “We’re clear,” he said, his voice calm but laced with relief.

Nova let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing. “You weren’t kidding. You’ve done this before.”

Quinn glanced at her, a faint flicker of amusement in his otherwise stoic expression. “Not my first time navigating a death trap.”

VERA’s tone was less formal than usual, almost admiring. “Impressive maneuvering, Quinn. Minimal shield depletion and zero structural damage.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, VERA,” Quinn said, his voice softening slightly.

Nova looked at him, her chest tightening. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For keeping us alive.”

Quinn gave her a small nod, his focus already shifting to the planet ahead. Togon Bay loomed in the distance, a rugged, dangerous world bathed in the light of a distant sun.

“We made it,” Quinn said, his tone resolute. “Let’s hope Miranda was right about this place.”