Dr. Peregrine Sable
Part 1: Strangers Among the Stars
The asteroid was cold, bleak, and silent except for the soft hiss of Quinn’s exo-suit vents releasing pressure. He scanned the jagged terrain, his rifle slung loosely over his shoulder, eyes sharp and wary. The faint blue glow of distant stars barely pierced the oppressive darkness, casting everything in a ghostly hue. His breath fogged the visor of his helmet, and he muttered a curse, wiping it away with a gloved hand.
Quinn had been searching this forsaken rock for hours. A distress signal had pinged on his ship’s sensors—a rare thing this far out in the Void. It could be a trap. It often was. But for a grizzled old soldier like him, with no cause left but survival, sometimes a trap was better than boredom.
The signal led him into a narrow crevice, the walls towering like the teeth of some long-dead beast. The air was thin here, barely breathable, and the weight of countless battles pressed on his tired bones. As he turned a corner, his visor lit up with an alert—a life form. Small, barely registering.
“Not another goddamned wild critter,” he grumbled.
But then he saw her.
A small figure huddled against the cold stone, her skin a soft, iridescent lavender that shimmered like moonlight. Eyes like twin orbs of liquid silver blinked up at him, wide and terrified. She was wrapped in tattered fabric, shivering, her breath forming tiny clouds in the frigid air.
Quinn’s heart skipped a beat. Not a wild animal. Not a trap. A child.
“Hey, kid,” he called out, his voice rough from years of shouting over gunfire. “You alright?”
The girl flinched but didn’t respond. Quinn crouched down, lowering his rifle to appear less threatening. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said softly, though his voice came out gruff despite himself. “What’s your name?”
She stared at him for a long moment, her silver eyes reflecting his grizzled face like a mirror. Finally, in a voice that was barely a whisper, she said, “Luma.”
“Luma, huh?” Quinn tried to offer a reassuring smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace. “What are you doing out here all alone?”
She glanced down, clutching the fabric tighter around her tiny frame. “My… my ship was attacked. I got away, but… I don’t know where to go.”
Quinn’s heart ached at the sight of her—so small, so lost. “Alright,” he said, sighing. “Let’s get you out of here. Can you walk?”
Luma nodded, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. Quinn caught her just in time, her skin cold as ice under his touch. He hesitated only a moment before lifting her into his arms. She weighed next to nothing, like holding a feather made of stardust.
“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “I’ll get you somewhere safe.”
As he carried her back toward his ship, the stars above seemed to watch, silent witnesses to a story that was just beginning to unfold.
Part 2: Hunted
The hum of the ship’s engines was a welcome sound to Quinn’s ears, a constant that drowned out the memories always lurking in the corners of his mind. The interior lights were dimmed, casting a warm amber glow over the cockpit. Luma sat in the co-pilot’s seat, her wide eyes taking in everything like it was the first time she’d ever seen a ship.
“Where’re you from, Luma?” Quinn asked, trying to keep the conversation light as he set their course away from the asteroid.
“Far… far away,” she replied, her voice still soft but more certain now. “A place with green skies and waters that sing.”
“Sounds nice,” Quinn muttered, though he couldn’t imagine it. The only green he had known was the glare of toxic fog over battlefields. “Got anyone waiting for you?”
Her eyes dimmed, the light within them flickering like dying stars. “No,” she whispered. “I’m the last.”
The weight of those words hung in the air like a death sentence. Quinn wanted to ask more, but the ship’s sensors blared, pulling his attention back to the present.
“Shit,” he growled, slamming a fist on the console. “We’ve got company.”
A cluster of small, agile ships appeared on the radar, closing in fast. Bounty hunters. Quinn didn’t need to check their markings to know they were bad news. Out here in the fringe, law was just a word. If they were after Luma, it meant someone with deep pockets wanted her back—or dead.
“Hold tight, kid,” Quinn barked, flipping switches and punching the thrusters. “We’re gonna have to shake them.”
The ship lurched, engines roaring as they plunged into the asteroid field. Quinn’s hands moved with the precision of a veteran pilot, dodging jagged rocks that threatened to tear the ship apart. Luma clung to her seat, eyes wide but unblinking, her breathing steady despite the chaos around her.
“You… you’ve done this before,” she said, a hint of awe in her voice.
“Yeah,” Quinn grunted, teeth clenched. “Too many damn times.”
The enemy ships were relentless, darting between the asteroids like sharks closing in on wounded prey. Quinn’s ship was old, patched together from a dozen different wrecks, but it was his, and he knew every inch of it. He twisted the controls, pulling a sharp turn that sent one of the hunters crashing into a rocky outcrop.
“That’s one down,” he muttered. But the rest kept coming.
As the last of his tricks ran out, a bright flash filled the cockpit, and the ship lurched violently. Sparks flew, and the lights flickered. They were hit. Quinn cursed under his breath, checking the systems. The engines were dying, and they were losing power fast.
“We’re not gonna make it,” he whispered, more to himself than to Luma.
Then, a soft, warm light filled the cabin. Quinn turned to see Luma, her eyes glowing brighter than ever before. She reached out, her tiny hands trembling, and touched the console. The lights steadied, the engines roared back to life, and the ship surged forward with renewed strength.
“What the hell…?” Quinn gasped.
Luma collapsed back into her seat, her light fading. “I can heal things,” she whispered. “But it takes… so much energy.”
Quinn stared at her, disbelief warring with a surge of unexpected hope. “You’re… you’re more than just a lost kid, aren’t you?”
“I… don’t want to be alone anymore,” she said, tears shimmering in her silver eyes. “Please, Quinn. Don’t let them take me.”
Quinn’s resolve hardened. He was many things—killer, deserter, a man with too many regrets to count—but he wasn’t about to let some bounty hunters take an innocent kid. Not this time.
“Hold on tight, Luma,” he growled. “We’re getting out of this together.”
Part 3: A New Dawn
The ship shuddered as they made the jump to a hidden safe zone deep in the galactic fringe. Quinn’s hands were steady on the controls, his face set in grim determination. Luma lay in the co-pilot’s seat, her breathing shallow, her light barely flickering now. She had given everything to save them.
The ship touched down on a dusty, desolate planet—an old rebel outpost Quinn had used long ago. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and decay, but it was safe, for now. Quinn carried Luma in his arms, her small body limp against his chest.
“Hang in there, kid,” he whispered. “We’re almost there.”
Inside the outpost, Quinn found an old med-kit and set to work, his hands moving with surprising gentleness. Luma’s eyes fluttered open, and she managed a faint smile. “You… saved me,” she murmured.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Quinn said, his voice rough but softer than before. “We’re not out of the woods.”
Luma reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek, leaving a warm, tingling sensation. “You have so much hurt inside you, Quinn. So many scars…”
He pulled away, jaw tight. “Yeah, well, we all have our demons.”
“But you don’t have to carry them alone,” she said, her voice like a soft breeze. “Let me help you.”
For a moment, he wanted to refuse. He didn’t deserve help, not after the things he’d done. But looking into her eyes, so full of kindness and hope despite everything she’d been through, he felt something break inside him. Something that had been locked away for far too long.
“Alright, kid,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ll try. But you better not be lying to me.”
Luma’s touch was gentle, and as she placed her hands over his heart, a warmth spread through him. For the first time in years, the weight of his past seemed to lift, if only a little. The memories of bloodshed and betrayal faded, replaced by the soft glow of her light.
When it was done, Luma was weaker, her light dim, but she smiled up at him. “There’s always hope, Quinn. Even for someone like you.”
They stayed there for a long moment, the silence broken only by the distant hum of the outpost’s failing generators. Finally, Quinn spoke, his voice softer than it had been in years. “There’s a place… a colony far out. They take in refugees, people with nowhere else to go. I think they’d welcome someone like you.”
Luma’s eyes sparkled. “Really? You’d… take me there?”
“Yeah,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I think it’s time I did something right for once.”
As they lifted off from the desolate planet, the stars seemed to shine brighter, a new dawn breaking on the horizon. Quinn felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. And for the first time in years, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a place for him among the stars after all.
The End
Endless Horizons 