Chapter 11
BALECK
Iwoke with the first light of morning filtering through the small window of my hut, feeling better than I had in a long time.
The night had brought good dreams. Not the fragments of war that sometimes haunted my sleep, but something warmer. Softer. Images of dark eyes and the faint curve of a smile. The memory of holding someone close and feeling them hold me back.
I lay there for a moment, staring at the wooden beams of the ceiling, letting the contentment wash over me. Confident. Happy. Hopeful. Three words I would have used to describe myself in that moment, before the day had a chance to prove me wrong.
My new little home was modest. It consisted of a single room with a sleeping pallet, a small table and chairs, and cabinets for my belongings.
The D’tran had offered me a permanent space in the guest building with the diplomats, but I’d declined.
It was getting tight in there, with the extra guests.
I preferred being here, in the heart of the village, surrounded by the people I was learning to call neighbors.
The hut was small, but it was mine. A place I’d chosen rather than been assigned to.
I dressed quickly and stepped outside into the cool morning air. The village was already stirring, D’tran emerging from their homes to begin the day’s work. I exchanged nods with a few familiar faces as I made my way toward the communal eating space.
The building rose ahead of me, its high ceilings and wooden beams visible through the open doorways.
It reminded me of my Sola’s atzan, the central gathering place where my people came together to share meals and conversation and community.
Not as large, of course. The atzan could hold thousands when needed.
But the feeling was similar. That sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself.
I was looking forward to breakfast. Looking forward to the flavors of D’tran cooking and the warmth of the hall and, if I was honest, the possibility of seeing Iris. Perhaps she would join me this morning. Perhaps last night had opened a door that she would choose to walk through.
A figure appeared in my path, moving fast. Human. One of the guards who had come with the diplomatic team.
“You,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Baleck. Have you seen Iris?”
I stopped, confusion flickering through me. “Not since last night. Why?”
“She’s missing.” The guard, whose name was Anker, lowered his voice. His expression was tight with worry. “We can’t find her anywhere.”
The words didn’t make sense at first. Missing. Iris. The two concepts refused to connect in my mind. She was the most capable person I’d ever met. The idea that she could simply vanish was absurd.
“Slow down,” I said, holding up a hand. “What do you mean, missing?”
“She didn’t report for morning check-in. When we went to her quarters, she wasn’t there. Her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her room…” He swallowed. “It looks like there was a struggle.”
Everything shifted. “I did not—”
Anker held up a hand. “No one thinks you did.” He didn’t blink. “No offense, Baleck. You’re a fit Destran warrior, but Iris is probably the most lethal person on this planet right now. If you tried to harm her, you wouldn’t be on your feet right now.”
I nodded, relieved I wouldn’t have to waste time defending myself.
It would have taken time away from finding Iris.
However, the contentment I’d felt moments ago evaporated.
It had been replaced by something cold and sharp that settled in my chest like a blade.
I was already moving before I’d consciously decided to, my feet carrying me toward the guest quarters at a pace just short of running.
Anker followed, struggling to keep up.
Sophie Diaz met me at the entrance, her silver-streaked hair disheveled and her expression grim. Beside her stood Vash, the Destran diplomat, his skin shifting through anxious patterns of gray and muted yellow.
“Baleck.” Sophie’s voice was clipped, professional, but I could hear the fear underneath. “You and Iris were seen together after yesterday’s rainstorm. Where did she go after that?”
“I walked her back to her quarters,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the storm building inside me. “I left her at her door. She went inside. I returned to my own room in the village.”
“You didn’t see anything unusual? Anyone watching? Following?”
“No. The streets were quiet. We passed a few people, but nothing seemed out of place.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened. “Her room is a mess. Furniture overturned. Bedding scattered. Signs of a fight.” She fixed me with a hard stare. “You’re certain you left her at her door?”
“Yes.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “She was fine when I left.”
“Then something happened after you walked away.”
I pushed past her into the building, needing to see for myself. The corridor was short, leading to several doors that opened onto private quarters. Iris’s was at the end, its door standing open.
The room beyond was chaos.
The small table had been knocked over, its contents scattered across the floor. The sleeping pallet was askew, blankets tangled and torn. A chair lay on its side near the window, which stood open to the morning air.
No blood. That was the first thing I looked for, and its absence allowed me to breathe again. But the signs of struggle were undeniable. Whatever had happened here, Iris hadn’t gone quietly.
Fear surged through me, cold and overwhelming. I wanted to scream, to tear the room apart looking for clues, to run into the streets and demand answers from anyone who might have them. The protective instinct I’d felt the night before returned with vicious intensity, clawing at my insides.
I forced it down. Forced my face to remain calm, willed my colors to stay steady. Panic would help no one.
“We need to search the village,” I said, turning to face Sophie.
“We already have.” Sophie held up a small device, its screen glowing with data. “Iris has a tracking chip embedded in her neck. We scanned the entire village. She’s not here.”
I stared at her, a chill running through me that had nothing to do with fear for Iris. “A tracking chip?”
“Standard procedure for operatives in the field.” Sophie’s tone was matter-of-fact. “It helps us locate our people if a mission goes bad.”
“Does she know?” The words came out harder than I intended. “Does Iris know she has a chip in her neck?”
“Of course she knows.” Sophie met my gaze without flinching.
“We don’t do anything to our people without their knowledge and consent.
The chip is voluntary, and most operatives choose to have one.
” Her expression softened slightly. “It has not escaped me that you and Iris have become…close in the past week or so. I want you to know that we never abandon our people. If one of ours goes missing, we find them. We bring them home. That’s not negotiable. ”
The conviction in her voice eased something in my chest. This wasn’t a system that treated its operatives as disposable tools. They cared. They protected their own.
“The scanner has a limited range,” Sophie continued. “And there’s interference from the equipment in the communications center. We can confirm she’s not in the village, but we can’t scan the whole valley from here.”
“Then we take the scanner outside the walls,” I said immediately. “Search the valley properly.”
Sophie nodded. “Anker will go with you.”
The human guard was already moving toward the storage area where they kept their equipment. I followed, my mind racing through possibilities. Taken. Escaped. Hiding. Fighting. Iris could handle herself, I knew that. But the not knowing was unbearable.
We left the village through the gap in the low stone wall, Anker carrying the scanner while I kept watch for any signs of disturbance. The valley stretched before us, green and recovering, peaceful in a way that felt like mockery.
Anker worked the device methodically, sweeping it across the valley in overlapping arcs. The screen remained frustratingly empty.
“Nothing,” he said finally, his voice tight. “She’s not in the valley.”
Beyond the mountains, then. Someone had taken her through the tunnel, out into the open landscape where the Brakken probe had been found. The coincidence was too stark to ignore.
The feelings that had been building inside me all morning reached a crescendo.
Protective fury. Possessive desperation.
The overwhelming need to find her, to bring her back, to keep her safe.
These were not rational emotions. They were primal, instinctive, the kind of feelings that preceded mating marks and bonded pairs.
She was out there somewhere. And I would not rest until I found her.
“I’m going outside the valley,” I said, facing Anker. “Into the open land beyond the mountains. If she was taken, that’s the most likely direction.”
“Sophie won’t like that,” he said. “I need to protect the diplomats. If this is a ploy to draw us away—”
“You’ll stay,” I said firmly. “Someone has to. I will find her.”
His eyes narrowed. “She’s important to you.” Not a question.
“She is. And like you said, Iris is probably the most lethal person on this planet right now, but she’s in need of rescuing,” I said, and meant it.
“And while I’m no assassin, I am a Destran warrior.
I will fight for her, if it comes to that.
I’m sure Iris has dealt plenty of damage of her own to whoever took her.
But she may need help getting free. I will find her and bring her back. ”
Anker studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Take the Raycer. You’ll cover more ground, faster. And the scanner, of course. It will lead you to her once you’re in range.”
He led me to where the Raycer was stored. The sleek vehicle sat waiting, its rollerballs chunky and large and ready to eat up the ground. Today was the day I was supposed to have learned how to operate it. Now, it looked as if a crash course would have to do.
“The controls are simpler than they look,” he said, walking me through the console.
“This activates the controls. This engages the energy shield. Accelerator here, steering here. And this…” He tapped a small panel.
“Activates the auto-navigation. It can be mostly self-driven. Just set a direction, and it’ll handle the rest.”
I listened carefully, absorbing the information.
As a communications specialist, I’d spent years working with complex systems. Starship communication controls, navigation interfaces, translation matrices.
Compared to some of those, the Raycer’s console was almost intuitive.
Not as complicated as it had seemed when Iris was piloting it, when I’d been too busy being terrified and distracted by her proximity to pay attention.
“I understand,” I said.
My pack was still sitting in my hut, untouched since I’d returned from our trip to the probe site. I hadn’t bothered to unpack. Now I was grateful for my laziness. I retrieved it quickly, then stopped at the small chest where I kept my personal belongings.
The weapons were at the bottom, wrapped in cloth. My zavat, the bow I’d trained with since childhood. A quiver of projectiles. A blade my father had given me when I came of age. I hadn’t used them since the war ended. Had hoped I would never need to use them again.
I strapped them on.
The village was quiet as I walked back to the Raycer. Most of the D’tran were at their midday meal or their work, unaware of the crisis unfolding in their midst. I was grateful for that. The fewer questions, the better.
I climbed onto the vehicle, settling into the front seat where Iris had sat just cycles ago. The console lit up at my touch, blue lights flickering across the display. The engine purred to life, and the energy shield shimmered into existence around me.
Alone this time. No warm body riding with me. No scent of blaster ozone and flowers filling my senses.
I would find her. Whatever it took, wherever she was, I would find her.
I engaged the accelerator and guided the Raycer forward, through the gap in the low stone wall and toward the tunnel that would take me out of the valley. The darkness swallowed me, then released me into the harsh brightness of the world beyond.
I pushed the Raycer faster, shooting across the rocky terrain, toward the unknown.