Chapter 230: A Starakian in the Whitesun Hotel

When time resumed its normal flow, I immediately tightened my grip on the Starakian, making absolutely certain she couldn’t break free or make any sudden movements.

“W…What?!” she let out in utter shock, her entire body going rigid as she suddenly found herself restrained.

One moment she’d been standing freely with her weapon aimed at a target, and the next—from her perspective occurring instantaneously—she was completely immobilized with a hostile human’s arm wrapped around her neck and waist, preventing any movement whatsoever.

The disorientation and confusion in her voice was obvious.

“Rachel!” I shouted, calling out to snap her from her own moment of disorientation.

Rachel flinched and looked around quickly, clearly caught off guard by the dramatic change in everyone’s positions. One second I’d been across the room and she’d been bleeding in the hallway, and now suddenly we were both inside the room with the Starakian girl restrained.

She should have quickly guessed what I had done.

“That mechanical dog will be coming back any second now, Rachel!” I said again in hurry. “Can you block the entrance? Just hold it off for a few minutes while I deal with this!”

“Y…Yeah, I’ve got it!” Rachel nodded immediately, shaking off her confusion and moving into action.

She positioned herself directly in front of the doorway where I’d kicked the door open, raised both hands with her palms facing outward, and immediately manifested a thick crimson barrier that completely covered the entire entrance. The energy shield was substantially more robust than the ones she’d summoned before, multiple layers of overlapping barriers creating a dense defensive wall.

Sure enough, within seconds the Starakian’s mechanical construct appeared again, charging down the corridor at high speed. It launched itself at the barrier with the clear intention of smashing through to reach its master.

The impact was tremendous, a metallic crash that echoed through the hallway as the dog-like machine collided with Rachel’s defensive shield.

I drew a sharp breath, watching tensely to see if the barrier would hold.

The construct didn’t break through immediately like it had with Rachel’s previous single-layer barriers, but the collision sent visible ripples across the energy shield’s surface as kinetic force distributed through the structure. The mechanical dog bounced back slightly, then immediately raised one of its front legs—the appendage already beginning to extend into that telescoping spear configuration.

If it managed to penetrate the barrier the way it had before, we might be screwed. Rachel was already wounded, I was occupied restraining the Starakian, and that thing had demonstrated it could shrug off impacts that would destroy normal machines.

Thankfully, the multi-layered barrier held.

The extending leg stabbed forward with tremendous force, but instead of punching clean through, it only managed to penetrate the outermost layer before getting stopped by the underlying shields. The impact sent another strong ripple across the barrier’s surface, and Rachel gritted her teeth as she channeled more energy into maintaining the defensive wall against the sustained assault.

“Good work, Rachel,” I said with genuine relief. “Just hold it a bit longer. I need about ten more minutes before Time Freeze recharges and I can use it again.”

Until then, I’d have to handle this situation through more conventional means—intimidation, interrogation, and hopefully extracting useful information before deciding whether to kill this alien or leverage her as a hostage.

“You symbiotic disgusting parasite! Don’t touch me with your contaminated appendages!” The Starakian girl spat venomously, struggling against my grip despite the futility of her efforts.

My enhanced strength vastly outmatched hers, and the chokehold position gave me overwhelming advantage. She wasn’t going anywhere unless I allowed it.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” I said coldly, letting every ounce of my rage and hatred color my voice. “Explain to me why your life has any value whatsoever.”

“W…What?!” she gasped in shock, apparently not having expected such a direct threat. “You can’t just—”

“I asked you a simple question,” I interrupted, my voice dropping even lower and more threatening. “Why shouldn’t I just snap your neck right now and be done with it? You tried to kill us. Your weapon was aimed directly at me with obvious lethal intent. Self-defense would be completely justified.”

“If you harm me, Sonny will tear you apart!” She shouted desperately, her earlier arrogance replaced by genuine fear.

“That mechanical construct of yours?” I scoffed dismissively. “I’ll deal with it. Rachel’s barrier is holding it off just fine, and even if it gets through, I’m confident I can destroy it if necessary. So threatening me with your robot dog isn’t particularly compelling. Try again.”

“It’s not a dog! It’s a sophisticated combat unit!” She snapped indignantly, apparently offended by the reductive terminology even in her current vulnerable position. “And Sonny is far more dangerous than you realize! Release me immediately!”

“Do you genuinely think I’m going to let you go after you tried to murder us?” I asked incredulously, tightening my grip slightly to emphasize my point. “Your entire race is responsible for the complete destruction of civilization on this planet. Billions of deaths. The collapse of human society. The Infected plague that turned people into mindless monsters. All of that is your people’s doing.”

My voice grew even colder and more threatening as accumulated rage began bubbling to the surface. “I am barely holding myself back from killing you on the spot. The only thing keeping you alive right now is that you might have useful information. So I strongly suggest you start providing reasons for me to continue exercising restraint.”

Being face-to-face with an actual Starakian, a real member of the alien species that had orchestrated humanity’s near-extinction—was bringing up emotions I’d been suppressing for months. The anger, the grief, the overwhelming desire for revenge against the beings responsible for destroying everything I’d known.

The White Lady from my dream-vision had been Starakian too, but she represented a different case, someone raised as a weapon rather than making conscious choices, if I’d understood correctly. And Wanda, despite being half-Starakian genetically, had been raised human, she wasn’t one of them.

But this girl I was restraining right now? She was a true, full-blooded Starakian. She belonged to the species that had spread the Infected virus across Earth, that had coldly calculated the genocide of nearly all human life, that had caused countless deaths including my own mother’s.

Every fiber of my being wanted to make her pay for what her people had done.

“I…If you kill me, Zakthar will find you and make you suffer,” she stuttered, her voice now clearly tinged with genuine fear rather than just anger.

“So there’s another Starakian around here?” I asked, my grip hardening slightly against her neck. “How many of you are there? Why did you come to Atlantic City specifically? Don’t tell me it’s because you’re hunting Wanda again?” My eyes narrowed.

The mechanical construct outside reacted to my increased aggression toward its master, pounding even more forcefully against Rachel’s barrier. The impacts were becoming more frequent and more powerful, and I could see Rachel straining to maintain the defensive shield.

Just hold on a bit longer, Rachel. I need answers first.

“Answer me,” I repeated again. “Why are you here?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The Starakian girl protested desperately. “We didn’t come here for anyone specific! We didn’t come hunting for Wanda or whoever! I just came to accompany Zakthar on his mission! That’s all!”

“Then what mission?” I asked, not buying her claim of ignorance. “For what purpose did you come to this city? Starakians don’t just wander around Earth for tourism. You’re here for a reason. Tell me what it is.”

She hesitated for a long moment, clearly weighing whether providing information would help or harm her situation.

“We… we found the host of Dullahan…” She finally admitted quietly.

I fell completely silent at those words.

Rachel glanced back at me concerned.

“Dullahan…” I repeated slowly.

“Yes!” The Starakian girl said, apparently sensing an opportunity to negotiate now that she’d gotten my attention. “It’s classified as a Class-S Symbiote—an extremely dangerous entity! One of the most powerful and volatile parasites in the known catalog! But there are innocent lives here, human civilians who don’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire when Dullahan inevitably goes berserk or attracts hostile attention from other factions!”

She was speaking rapidly now, words tumbling out in a rush. “Zakthar and I came here specifically to capture or neutralize Dullahan before it can cause a catastrophe! We’re trying to prevent mass casualties, to protect the humans in this area from—”

“You expect me to believe this absolute bullshit?” I cut her off harshly. “You’re claiming you came here to protect humans? Your people started this entire war! Every single death, every person turned into an Infected monster, every collapsed civilization—all of it is your fault! And now you have the audacity to claim you’re here to save people?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” She shouted back desperately. “Neither did Zakthar! We didn’t choose to be born into a species at war! We’re trying our best to do something meaningful with the circumstances we’ve been given! To make choices that actually help rather than harm!”

Her voice grew more frantic, more emotional. “And this situation—the Infected, the collapse of your civilization—it’s not even primarily our fault! It’s the Symbiotes’ fault for choosing to flee to this planet! You parasites made Earth a target by hiding here! What Symbiote are you even bonded with?!”

She twisted slightly in my grip, trying to look at me. “If Dullahan is operating in this area, then you’re not safe either! None of the Symbiote hosts are! When a Class-S entity goes active, it attracts attention from hunters and predators that will kill every host in the vicinity just to eliminate potential threats! You should be helping us contain Dullahan, not fighting us!”

This might be the biggest joke I’d heard since the apocalypse began. She actually wanted me to ally with Starakians, the species that had orchestrated humanity’s genocide—to help them hunt down and kill other Symbiote hosts like myself?

What level of shamelessness and audacity was required to even suggest such a thing with a straight face?

“Ryan! I can’t hold this much longer!” Rachel’s voice called out, panic edging into her tone as the mechanical construct continued its relentless assault on her barrier.

I could see her straining visibly now, both hands raised and trembling slightly with the effort of maintaining the multi-layered defensive shield. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and her breathing had become labored. The wound on her side wasn’t helping—blood loss and pain were both draining her stamina faster than normal.

The barrier was holding for now, but it wouldn’t last indefinitely. Rachel had limits, and we were rapidly approaching them.

I made a quick decision.

“Call off your construct,” I ordered the Starakian girl. “Make it stop attacking immediately.”

“Release me first,” she asked right after.

I looked toward Rachel, making silent eye contact to gauge her assessment of the situation.

She gave me a slight nod.

Taking a risk, I released my restraining hold on the Starakian girl but made absolutely certain to remain in a ready stance, prepared to react instantly if she tried anything hostile.

She stepped away from me as soon as my arms withdrew, putting several feet of distance between us quickly. Her movements were cautious, wary, clearly not trusting that I wouldn’t immediately attack again.

There was a long moment of tense silence as she turned to face me fully, staring at my expression.

Then she turned her attention toward the doorway where her mechanical companion was still battering against Rachel’s weakening barrier.

“Sonny, cease attack,” she said.

The construct immediately stopped mid-motion, freezing in perfect mechanical stillness. Its extended leg retracted smoothly back into normal configuration, and it lowered itself into what appeared to be a neutral standby position, still alert and ready to engage, but no longer actively hostile.

Rachel immediately dropped the barrier with a gasp of relief, her arms falling to her sides as she fought to catch her breath. The energy shield dissipated into fading red particles, and she slumped slightly against the door frame, clearly exhausted from the sustained effort.

“I am not your enemy,” the Starakian girl said. “Despite what you believe about my people, despite the history between our species, Zakthar and I are not here to harm humans. We’re trying to prevent a catastrophe here.”

“I’m having an extremely difficult time accepting that claim,” I replied, my hand still resting on my axe handle. “Your entire species orchestrated the near-complete genocide of mine. Billions dead. Civilization collapsed. And now you expect me to believe you’ve suddenly developed humanitarian concerns?”

She clenched her fists tightly at my words.

“You Symbiotes started this entire war!” She shot back defensively, her voice rising with emotion. “Your kind attacked us first! You parasites invaded Starakian space, infected our people, caused countless deaths among our population! We didn’t initiate this conflict—we’re responding to an existential threat that your species represents!”

“I am not a Symbiote,” I corrected her sharply, feeling my own anger rising to match hers. “I’m a human who became bonded with a Symbiote host through circumstances completely beyond my control. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose to become involved in your ancient war.”

I took a step toward her, my voice growing harder. “So tell me—what exactly did Earth and its residents do to Starakians? What crime did humanity commit to justify what your people did to us? We weren’t even aware that aliens existed, let alone that there was some galactic conflict happening! We were innocent bystanders who got caught in the crossfire of a war we knew nothing about!”

The Starakian girl opened her mouth to respond, her expression indignant and ready to deliver some justification.

But then she stopped, the words dying on her lips before they could form.

She stood there in silence for a long moment, her mouth still partially open, clearly unable to produce any defense or rationalization that would actually answer my question.

Because there wasn’t one. Earth had done nothing to Starakians. Humanity had been completely uninvolved in the Symbiote conflict until we’d been deliberately targeted and used as collateral damage.

“These decisions… weren’t made by us individually,” she finally said quietly, looking away in what might have been shame. “But our King—our supreme leader, he won’t stop his campaign until every single Symbiote in the galaxy is captured or killed. Until the species is completely eradicated and can never threaten Starakian civilization again.”

Her voice dropped even lower. “Regardless of how many innocent planets have to die in the process. Regardless of how many civilizations get destroyed as collateral damage. The war will continue until total victory is achieved or until the Starakian Empire itself falls.”

“This is absolutely insane…” Rachel breathed out in horror.

She’d moved closer during the conversation, one hand still pressed against her bleeding side but her attention completely focused on what the Starakian was saying.

The alien girl just looked away, unable or unwilling to meet our eyes. Whether she was experiencing guilt, shame, resignation, or some other emotion I couldn’t begin to guess.

I decided to redirect the conversation.

“What were you doing in here before we arrived?” I asked, gesturing around the hotel room suspiciously. “What was the purpose of whatever activity you were engaged in?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, raising her gaze back to me with obvious confusion.

“We heard a loud sound—a significant impact or explosion—that originated from this floor and drew our attention,” I explained. “That noise is the reason we found you to begin with. So what caused it? What were you doing that made that much sound?”

The Starakian hesitated visibly at my question, clearly uncertain whether she should answer or maintain operational security about whatever mission she’d been conducting.

When I narrowed my eyes and took a half-step forward in silent threat, she grumbled in frustration and pointed toward the far end of the room.

“That,” she said simply.

I followed her gesture and felt my eyes widen in genuine shock as I saw what she was indicating.

Sitting on the floor near the window, partially concealed behind an overturned table, was an object I recognized immediately despite never having seen this specific one before.

An Alien Device. Another containment box identical in general design to the one we’d found in Jackson Township.

“This…”

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