Elara had walked into classified labs before, had met people who operated in shadows and secrets, but nothing had compared to standing aboard the Vey’Lun, the Lumenari flagship. The air itself felt different—denser, charged with an almost electric hum. The walls of the vessel pulsed faintly with soft blues and silvers, like bioluminescent veins running through a living organism.
Flanked by two Lumenari guards, she was led into what could only be the command center, a circular room with a massive, translucent display hovering at the center, rotating strands of Lumenari DNA flickering in shades of green and ominous red.
That’s when she saw Commander Zhukov.
Unlike the other Lumenari she had encountered, whose ethereal features made them appear almost otherworldly fragile, Zhukov exuded something else entirely—an undeniable presence. He stood taller, his solid black markings forming sharp, intricate patterns across his face and hands. His uniform was dark, reinforced, almost militaristic, in contrast to the flowing garments worn by the Lumenari scientists.
“Light moves with you, Dr. Quinn,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with a weight that made it clear he wasn’t one for unnecessary words.
Elara straightened, refusing to let herself be intimidated. “Good Morning, Commander Zhukov.”
He studied her, his unnerving black eyes flickered slightly. “I have reviewed your research. It is… efficient.”
Elara raised an eyebrow. “Efficient? That’s a strange way to compliment someone’s life’s work.”
He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “A compliment is not my intention. Efficiency is a requirement. Anything else is irrelevant.”
She exhaled sharply. “Well, good to know I was plucked from my lab and dragged into an interstellar crisis because I’m efficient.”
One of the Lumenari guards shifted uneasily at her tone, but Zhukov didn’t react. Instead, he gestured toward the glowing DNA display. “This affliction is not a mere illness. It is a calculated strike against my people. You understand this now, yes?”
Elara stepped closer, studying the spiraling strands. The degradation was clear—entire sections of their genetic structure were unraveling, failing to replicate properly. It was unnatural, too precise.
“Yes,” she admitted, crossing her arms. “This isn’t just a mutation or a virus. It’s engineered.” She turned back to Zhukov. “The question is: who would want to do this to you?”
For the first time, something in Zhukov’s expression shifted—his gaze darkened, and his bioluminescent markings dimmed slightly, a clear sign of tension. “That,” he said, “is a question I intend to answer.”
Elara wasn’t sure if that should comfort or concern her.
“Then I take it this isn’t just a scientific mission?” she asked carefully.
Zhukov stepped closer, his height becoming more apparent as he loomed over her slightly. “No. It is also a war.”
She held his gaze. “And I suppose that makes me what? A scientist or a weapon?”
Zhukov considered her for a moment before replying, “Perhaps both.”
Elara let out a dry chuckle. “Fantastic. Just what every geneticist dreams of.”
Zhukov turned away, walking toward the main console. “Your skills will determine our next move. We do not have the luxury of time, Doctor. Your work begins now.”
Elara sighed, rolling up her sleeves. “Then we better get started.”
Elara exhaled and stepped toward the central console, watching as the Lumenari genetic strands continued to flicker in shades of red and green. A holographic interface adjusted as she approached, sensing her presence. The technology was intuitive, responding to even the smallest of her movements.
Zhukov observed her closely, his arms crossed over his chest. “You will be granted full access to all genetic data we have collected regarding the affliction,” he stated. “Your workspace has already been prepared within our research sector.”
Elara’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s generous, considering I was ‘chosen’ without being asked. Do I at least get to know why me? Surely your own geneticists are more familiar with your DNA structure.”
Zhukov’s gaze flickered with something unreadable. “Our scientists have exhausted their methods. Your field of study, your techniques in genetic repair, are… unorthodox. Effective.” He hesitated for half a second before adding, “And you are not bound by our limitations.”
“Limitations?” she echoed.
Zhukov’s black markings pulsed slightly, a subtle display of tension. “Lumenari genetics are highly complex. For centuries, we have preserved our biological integrity with strict ethical parameters. There are methods we refuse to use, even in desperation.”
Elara crossed her arms. “And you think I will?”
His abyssal black eyes locked onto hers. “I think you will do what is necessary.”
The weight of his words settled between them, unspoken implications hanging in the air. Elara inhaled deeply, then turned back to the DNA projections, running her fingers along the holographic interface. The more she studied the degradation, the more she realized how deliberate it was. Whoever had done this knew exactly how to target the Lumenari at their core.
She glanced back at Zhukov. “I assume you already have a list of suspects?”
His expression darkened. “We do.”
“And?” she pressed.
He hesitated for the briefest moment before saying, “You will be briefed when necessary. Right now, your focus is the cure.”
Elara shook her head with a dry chuckle. “Of course. Just fix the problem, don’t ask too many questions.”
Zhukov studied her for a long moment, then surprised her by saying, “Questions will come, Dr. Quinn. When you are ready for the answers.”
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Before she could respond, a soft chime echoed through the command center. One of the Lumenari officers approached Zhukov and spoke in their native language, a series of melodic yet clipped tones. Zhukov’s posture stiffened slightly.
He turned back to Elara. “We are approaching the research sector. A Lumenari scientist, Valkoris, will be assisting you. He will provide anything you require.”
Elara exhaled. “Fine. But if you expect me to work miracles, I’ll need full transparency. No more half-answers.”
Zhukov regarded her for a moment before nodding. “Understood.”
The ship shuddered slightly as it adjusted course. Elara glanced at the DNA projection once more, her mind already working through possible approaches.
Whatever was happening here, she wasn’t just a scientist anymore. She was in the middle of something much bigger. And if Zhukov’s demeanor was any indication, she wasn’t sure if she was working to save the Lumenari — Or to stop a war before it began.
The research lab aboard the Vey’Lun was unlike anything Elara had ever seen. The walls pulped with a bioluminescent glow, shifting in color depending on the temperature and activity in the room. The air was sterile but carried a faint metallic scent, and the equipment—an elegant fusion of Lumenari biotech and human-style data processing—hummed softly around her.
At the center of the lab, a large holographic display projected an altered genetic strand rotating in midair, flickering with red markers where the damage had occurred. It was a slow unraveling, a silent deterioration encoded within the very building blocks of Lumenari biology.
Across from her, Lumenari scientist Valkori stood with an almost unnerving stillness, his elongated fingers hovering just above a translucent control panel embedded in the workstation. His bioluminescent markings shimmered in muted blue-green hues—Elara had learned enough by now to recognize the color as something close to uncertainty.
“This is not the work of nature,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.”
Valkori inclined his head slightly. “The precision of the degradation suggests intent. The question remains—what was their ultimate goal?”
Elara exhaled sharply. “Extinction. But slow. Just subtle enough that by the time your people figured it out, it would already be too late.”
Valkori’s glow dimmed slightly, an instinctual reaction she had come to associate with unease. “You believe the damage is reversible?”
She hesitated before responding, her gaze still fixed on the flickering genetic sequence. “I don’t know yet.”
He watched her carefully. “Then what do you require?”
Elara turned, rubbing the back of her neck. “I need test subjects. Lumenari volunteers. I can run as many simulations as I want, but the only way to know if any of these treatments will work is to see how different genetic variations respond.”
He shifted slightly, his glow pulsing in an unreadable pattern. “That may be… difficult.”
Elara frowned. “Difficult how?”
Before Valkori could answer, the lab doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Commander Zhukov strode inside. His presence was immediate, authoritative, the kind that made the air feel heavier just by proximity. He carried himself like a man who had no time for hesitation, his onyx eyes scanning the holographic display before settling on her.
“You require test subjects,” he stated.
Elara crossed her arms. “Yes. Controlled tests will help determine whether gene therapy can counteract the degradation.”
Zhukov studied her, his expression unreadable. “Our people are… hesitant. Experimentation on Lumenari genetics has long been restricted. Many will view this request with fear.”
Elara blew out a breath. “I understand their hesitation, but this is the only way to move forward. The alternative is watching your species continue to decline.”
Valkori nodded in agreement. “Perhaps if the volunteers understand the necessity of the research, they will come forward willingly.”
Zhukov exhaled, his dark markings dimming slightly as he considered. He turned to Valkori. “Put out a request for volunteers. Make it clear that this is not a directive, but a choice.”
Elara arched an eyebrow. “That’s surprisingly diplomatic of you.”
Zhukov met her gaze, his dark eyes sharp. “Forcing participation would make us no different than those who did this to us.”
She held his stare for a moment before nodding. “Fair enough.”
Valkori turned back to the console, his fingers gliding over the glowing interface as he composed the formal request. A soft chime echoed through the lab, signaling that the message was being transmitted.
Meanwhile, Zhukov remained near the holographic display, watching the flickering DNA sequence with a hardened expression.
“You are certain this is the best course of action?” he asked after a long silence.
Elara leaned against the console, crossing her arms. “Nothing in science is certain, Zhukov. But if we don’t try, you will run out of time.”
He was silent for a moment, then finally gave a small nod. “Then we proceed.”
The waiting began. Would the Lumenari trust her enough to step forward? Or was she already too late?
As Elara waited for the first volunteers to arrive, she had begun pacing the lab, her arms crossed as she stared at the holo display. The genetic sequences hovered in the air, lines of glowing code shifting as new data streamed in from her latest simulation. She had studied their genetic structure for days, running simulations, analyzing breakdown patterns, and testing theoretical treatments. But theory wasn’t enough anymore. She needed to see how real Lumenari bodies reacted to the gene therapy.
The research lab was quiet except for the soft hum of the genetic analyzer processing the blood samples. Elara leaned against the workstation, eyes flickering over the rotating strands of Lumenari DNA projected in midair. The Lumenari’s DNA had been stubborn — resistant to traditional gene therapies, as if it actively fought against being modified.
The genetic corruption was woven into the very essence of their biology, precise and deliberate—whoever had done this had known exactly what they were doing. When the lab doors slid open, she straightened, expecting Valkori. But instead, three new figures stepped inside.
She recognized them immediately.
Two Lumenari shipmates—one male, one female—stood with quiet determination. Their bioluminescent markings pulsed in slow, steady waves of pale blue, signaling controlled emotions. And behind them, standing with his arms clasped behind his back in his usual composed stance, was Commander Zhukov.
Elara blinked. “This is unexpected.”
Zhukov regarded her with his usual impassive expression. “You required volunteers. Here we are.”
She glanced at the two shipmates. They looked calm, but she could see the tension in the way they held themselves—shoulders stiff, hands loosely clenched. They were willing, but there was fear beneath their resolve.
Valkori entered behind them, nodding toward her. “Dr. Quinn, Lieutenant Rellan and Specialist Saelira have both volunteered for the first phase of testing.”
Elara folded her arms, shifting her weight. “And you, Commander? I wasn’t expecting you to step forward.”
Zhukov’s silver eyes remained locked onto hers. “I will not ask my crew to endure something I am unwilling to face myself.”
She studied him, looking for any hesitation. There was none. Zhukov had the presence of someone who had already decided his course and would not be swayed.
Rellan, the male volunteer, inclined his head. “Every cycle, more of our people are affected. If we do nothing, we are already lost.”
Saelira stepped forward, her markings pulsing slightly brighter. “If this has even a chance of saving our kind, the risk is worth it.”
Elara exhaled. They weren’t naive. They understood what they were signing up for.
“Alright,” she said, nodding. “But before we begin, I need to be absolutely clear—this is experimental. I have no guarantees. I’ve run simulations, but the real test is seeing how your bodies react. There could be side effects, some minor, some dangerous. If at any point you feel anything unusual—pain, dizziness, anything—you need to tell me immediately.”
Saelira nodded. “Understood.”
Rellan glanced briefly at Zhukov before giving a sharp nod as well.
Zhukov, as always, simply said, “Proceed.”
Elara moved toward the workstation, pulling out a set of sterile instruments. “I’ll start by taking blood samples. Your genetic structures may have slight variations, and I need to see how each of you responds to the preliminary treatment before moving forward.”
She gestured for Saelira to sit first. The specialist rolled up the sleeve of her uniform, revealing faintly glowing veins beneath her skin. As Elara pressed the extraction device to her arm, the vial filled with shimmering liquid—Lumenari blood was iridescent, shifting colors under the light like liquid opal. It was mesmerizing, unlike anything she had seen before.
One by one, she collected samples from Rellan and Zhukov, placing each vial into the analyzer. As the machine began processing the data, Elara turned back to them.
“Alright,” she said, exhaling. “Now we begin.”