Chapter 17
RYNN
Tarek shows up before dawn.
Not in uniform. Not with rank. Just a plain black coat buttoned high against his neck, eyes like scorched glass, and that empty smile he wears when he wants you to think he's harmless.
He's already leaning against my office wall when I arrive.
"Dr. Sorala," he drawls, voice slick with false charm. "Hope you don't mind the early call."
I freeze mid-step. My hand clenches around my compad.
“I wasn’t expecting an inspection,” I say carefully.
“Oh, this isn’t official.” He shrugs, then pushes off the wall. “Just a personnel check. Loose ends. Standard protocol.”
Bullshit.
He’s never done anything “standard” in his life.
I step past him, keeping my breathing steady, and log into the terminal. My fingers move automatically, pulling up false data files I preloaded last week, just in case.
“What kind of loose ends?” I ask, back turned.
His voice is calm. Too calm.
“Unlogged medical supplies. Compad entries with trace anomalies. Family profiles not fully accounted for in the registry.”
I go cold.
“Sounds like admin error,” I say. “I’ll have Drel look into it.”
Tarek hums behind me.
“You’ve been here five years, Rynn. No transfers. No leaves. No flagged reports. That’s… neat.”
I finally turn to face him. “You saying I’m too clean?”
“I’m saying it’s unusual.” His smile thins. “Especially for someone with your war record.”
I stare him down. “What exactly are you implying?”
“Nothing.” He lifts both hands. “Just dots. Sometimes they connect. Sometimes they don’t.”
He starts toward the door, then pauses.
“By the way,” he says lightly, “your daughter’s drawings are very… expressive.”
My heart seizes.
“What?”
“Kids on the station. They talk. They show things. Share things. Her little sketch of a Vakutan with scarred armor caught someone’s attention.”
I don't blink. I don't breathe.
He smirks. “You know how seriously the Alliance takes data security. And unauthorized offspring.”
“Tread carefully,” I say, my voice colder than I mean.
He lifts a brow. “Is that a threat, Doctor?”
“No. It’s a warning.”
He laughs. A short, sharp exhale of disbelief.
Then he walks out like he owns the air.
I don’t even bother sitting down.
I grab my compad, initiate a wireless wipe protocol, and bolt out the back.
Drel answers on the second ring, half-asleep.
“Rynn? You okay?”
“I need you. Now.”
He doesn’t ask why. “Medbay?”
“No. The old comms tower. Ten minutes.”
The tower’s dead cold.
Abandoned since the last solar burst cooked half the antenna grid. I duck through a rusted hatch, slam it shut, and seal it with a magnetic wedge. My breath clouds the air.
Drel’s already at the console, dust flying as he pries open the back panel.
“You look like hell,” he mutters.
“Tarek knows.”
He goes still. “Knows what?”
“Everything. Or close enough. Nessa. The logs. The drawings.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
He turns, typing furiously. “You want full erasure?”
“Not yet,” I say. “I want escape.”
Drel glances up. “Blackout protocol?”
I nod.
He whistles low. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
He cracks his neck. “Alright. I’ll pull archived identities. You’ll need a bio-wipe first.”
“Already running.” I toss him my wristband. “Compad ID?”
“Got a burner. Pre-registered under a decommissioned engineer. You’ll be ‘Kala Venn.’”
“And Nessa?”
“I’ve got her flagged as your niece. Travel tag attached to a refugee transport registry. She’ll pass under scans.”
I exhale. “I knew I kept you around for something.”
Drel grins. “Charming.”
I step closer, lowering my voice. “If I don’t come back…”
“No.” He cuts me off. “Don’t say it.”
“I have to.”
“Then make it count. Run smart. Stay dark.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Then we get to work.
Back at the apartment, I scan for bugs.
I find one—tucked into the back vent of Nessa’s toy bin.
I crush it with my boot.
She’s still asleep. Arms splayed across the bed, mouth open, a soft snore whistling from her nose. Her hair curls wild around her pillow.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her.
Gods, she’s beautiful.
I don’t know how to say goodbye.
Or if I’ll have to.
But I know this—
If Tarek thinks I’ll let him take her, he doesn’t know what I’m capable of.