Chapter 13
BALECK
The Raycer flew across the rocky terrain, its rollerballs adapting to every obstacle with a smoothness that still amazed me. I’d been traveling for hours now, the landscape blurring past in shades of brown and green.
The scanner was attached to the Raycer’s interface screen, its display glowing with topographical data and the pulsing indicator that tracked Iris’s chip.
Or rather, that would track it once I got close enough.
For now, the screen showed only terrain, no signal, no sign of the woman I was searching for.
I’d plotted my course based on logic rather than luck.
Whoever had taken Iris didn’t have a Raycer.
I’d seen no evidence of vehicles anywhere in the valley or beyond.
No tracks, no power cell residue, no marks on the rocks.
They’d moved on foot, which meant they could only travel so fast, even if they were swift and knew the terrain.
If someone wanted to get as far from the village as possible while carrying an unconscious captive, they’d need to choose the path of least resistance.
The easiest terrain to traverse. Flat ground where available, gentle slopes where not, routes that avoided the worst of the rocky outcroppings and deep ravines that scarred this landscape.
I’d studied the topographical maps Anker had loaded into the Raycer’s system and identified the most likely path.
A broad corridor of relatively smooth ground that wound between the mountains and stretched toward the distant horizon.
It was the route I would have taken if I’d been in their position.
Now I just had to hope I was right.
The Raycer’s auto-navigation handled most of the steering, adjusting the course to avoid obstacles while maintaining the general direction I’d set. It allowed me to focus on the scanner, watching its display with an intensity that made my eyes ache.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
The power cell indicator caught my attention, and my stomach tightened.
Halfway. The Raycer’s energy reserves had dropped to the midpoint, which meant I was approaching the limit of my range.
If I kept going much longer, I wouldn’t have enough power to return to the village.
I’d be stranded out here, alone, with no way to help Iris or anyone else.
The desperation that had been building all day surged higher, pressing against my chest like a physical weight.
I couldn’t turn back. Couldn’t give up. But I also couldn’t ignore the mathematics of the situation.
Every minute I traveled forward was a minute I’d need to travel back.
At some point, very soon, I would have to make a choice.
Find her or save myself.
It wasn’t really a choice at all.
I pushed the Raycer faster, squeezing every bit of speed from its systems. The terrain blurred. The wind howled against the energy shield. My hands gripped the controls with white-knuckled intensity.
And then the scanner beeped.
I almost didn’t believe it at first. Almost thought it was a glitch, a false reading, my desperate mind playing tricks on me. But no. There it was, pulsing on the display. A small, bright dot that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
Iris.
Elation spiked through me, so intense it was almost painful. I wanted to shout, to laugh, to push the Raycer to its absolute limits and close the remaining distance in seconds. She was alive. She was out there. And I was going to find her.
I forced myself to slow down.
As much as I wanted to tear across the landscape at maximum speed, charging toward that pulsing dot like a missile toward its target, I knew it would be foolish.
Whoever had taken Iris had chosen this location for a reason.
They would be watching for pursuit. They would be prepared for rescue attempts.
If I announced my arrival with the roar of a Raycer engine, I’d lose any advantage surprise might give me.
I eased off the accelerator, letting the vehicle slow to a quieter, less noticeable pace. The scanner showed the signal approximately two kilometers ahead, which meant I was close. Close enough that caution mattered more than speed.
The terrain began to change as I approached.
The relatively flat ground gave way to something more complex, more structured.
Formations rose from the earth ahead, shapes that seemed too regular to be natural.
At first, I thought they might be rock formations, unusual geological features carved by the centuries of storms that had ravaged this planet.
Then I got closer, and I understood what I was seeing.
Ruins.
The remains of a city stretched before me, sprawling across the landscape in a jumble of collapsed walls and crumbling towers.
Once, this place must have been magnificent.
I could see the bones of great buildings, their foundations still visible beneath the rubble.
Broad avenues and plazas that might have held thousands were still apparent despite the debris.
The storms had destroyed it. That much was obvious.
Centuries of relentless wind and rain and lightning had torn this city apart, grinding its structures to dust, burying its history beneath layers of destruction.
But enough remained to see what it had been.
A place of significance. A place of power.
Iris was being held in there.
I guided the Raycer to a stop behind a large outcropping of rubble, positioning the vehicle where it would be hidden from casual observation. The engine’s purr faded to silence, and I sat for a moment, studying the ruins ahead.
Going in on the Raycer would be suicide. The vehicle was fast and powerful, but it was also loud. The moment I entered those ruins, everyone inside would know I was coming. I’d lose any chance of surprise, any opportunity to assess the situation before committing to action.
I would have to go on foot.
I climbed off the Raycer and took stock of my equipment.
The pack on my back held supplies, water, the scanner that would guide me to Iris.
At my hip, I’d strapped a blaster, the standard sidearm carried by most modern guards who ventured into dangerous territory.
It was a reliable weapon, accurate at medium range, capable of stunning or killing, depending on the setting.
But the blaster wasn’t what I reached for.
The zavat hung across my back. Its familiar weight was a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d missed.
I’d trained with this weapon since I was old enough to hold it, had spent countless hours perfecting my aim under my father’s watchful eye.
During the war, it had saved my life more times than I could count.
I pulled it free and held it in my hands, letting muscle memory take over.
In its resting state, the zavat was deceptively simple. A curved piece of metal and composite, approximately the length of my forearm, simple and unassuming. But when I pressed the activation point and folded out the second bow, it transformed.
The perpendicular arm locked into place with a satisfying click, forming a cross shape that gave the weapon its distinctive appearance. Energy strings hummed to life, stretching between the four points of the crossed bows, their soft blue glow illuminating my hands in the fading light.
I reached for my quiver and selected one of the thin metal arrows.
The projectiles were lightweight but deadly, designed to be propelled by the zavat’s energy strings with enough force to pierce armor at close range.
I nocked the arrow into the crossed strings, feeling the familiar tension as the weapon powered up.
Ready.
I moved toward the ruins, keeping low and using the rubble for cover.
The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, casting long shadows across the broken landscape.
Soon it would be dark, which could work in my favor.
Darkness was a friend to those who moved with stealth.
The outer wall of the ancient city rose before me, or what remained of it.
Most of the structure had collapsed, reduced to piles of stone that provided convenient cover for my approach.
But one section still stood, a tall fragment of wall that jutted up against the darkening sky like a broken tooth.
A figure stood atop it.
I froze, pressing myself against a chunk of rubble, barely breathing. The figure was silhouetted against the fading light, but I could make out enough details to identify them. D’tran. Male. Large and broad-shouldered, with the distinctive posture of someone on guard duty.
He was scanning the landscape, his head moving slowly as he surveyed the terrain I’d just crossed. Looking for threats. Looking for pursuit. If he spotted me, if he raised an alarm, everything would become much more difficult.
I watched him for several long moments, tracking his pattern.
He seemed to focus primarily on the direction of the valley, which made sense.
That’s where they’d expect any rescue attempt to originate.
I, thankfully, had not come directly from that direction.
My path had been wider, as I had been covering as much ground as I could.
The guard’s attention on the area where I crouched was more cursory, brief glances that didn’t linger. I waited for one of those glances to pass, then moved.
Staying low, using every piece of cover available, I hurried past the guard’s position and into the shadows of the ruined city. My heart pounded. My skin camouflaged to match the colors of the terrain around me as I forced myself to keep moving. Speed and stealth. Get in, find Iris, get out.
Once I was past the wall and into the city proper, I paused to orient myself.
The scanner showed Iris’s signal deeper in the ruins, perhaps half a kilometer ahead.
The path between here and there was a maze of collapsed buildings and debris-choked streets, but it was navigable. I just had to be careful.
I moved through the ruins, my zavat held ready, every sense on high alert.
The ancient city was eerily quiet, the only sounds the whisper of wind through broken windows and the occasional creak of settling stone.
It felt like a graveyard, and in a way, it was.
This place had been dead for centuries, its inhabitants long gone, its purpose forgotten.
But something about it felt familiar.
I paused at an intersection of two ancient streets, my eyes drawn to a symbol carved into a nearby wall. The stone was weathered, the carving almost erased by time, but I could still make out the shape. A flowing design, curves and angles intertwined in a pattern I recognized.
My heart stopped. This was Destran.
The symbol was written in the old script, the formal writing style that my people had used for millennia. I’d seen it in historical archives, in the ancient texts preserved on our Solas, in the ceremonial inscriptions that marked important occasions.
This wasn’t a D’tran city. This was a Destran city. Or rather, it had been, before my people left the planet in Solas.
I stared at the symbol, trying to process what I was seeing.
The D’tran and the Destrans shared common ancestors, that much we knew.
But the D’tran had been isolated for over a thousand sun cycles, cut off from the rest of our people by the storms that made travel impossible.
In that time, they’d developed their own culture, their own traditions, their own identity.
But this. This was evidence of our shared past, carved in stone and preserved despite everything the storms had thrown at it. A reminder that we were not so different after all.
I didn’t have time to contemplate the implications. Iris was still out there, still waiting to be found. I tore my gaze away from the symbol and continued deeper into the ruins.
The light was fading fast now, the shadows lengthening, the ancient city transforming into a maze of darkness and uncertain shapes.
My eyes adjusted as best they could, but navigating became more difficult with each passing minute.
I had to slow down, had to test my footing before each step, had to strain to see obstacles before I stumbled over them.
Still, I pressed on.
The scanner showed Iris’s signal growing stronger, closer.
She was somewhere ahead, in one of the structures that still stood partially intact.
I could see the building now, a squat, stone construction that had survived better than most of its neighbors.
Its walls were cracked but standing, its roof partially collapsed but still providing shelter.
That’s where they were keeping her.
I crouched in the shadow of a fallen column and studied the building, looking for guards, looking for entry points, looking for anything that would help me plan my approach. The windows were dark, revealing nothing. A single door faced me, closed and solid. I could see no movement, hear no voices.
But Iris was in there. The scanner confirmed it. Whatever else awaited me inside, I would find her.
I checked my zavat one more time, ensuring the arrow was properly seated, the energy strings at full charge. My fingers were steady, my breathing calm. The fear that had plagued me all day had transformed into something else. Focus. Purpose. Determination.
The darkness of the ruined city pressed in around me, ancient and heavy with history. Somewhere above, the first stars were appearing, pinpricks of light in the deepening purple of the sky. The temperature was dropping, the cool evening air carrying the scent of dust and old stone.
I rose from my hiding spot and moved toward the building.
I had found her. Now I just had to get her out.
The ruins of my ancestors surrounded me as I approached, their broken forms silent witnesses to what was about to happen.
Whatever awaited inside that building, whoever had taken Iris and thought they could keep her from those who cared about her, they were about to learn that they had made a serious mistake.
I was a communications specialist by training. A diplomat by choice. A wanderer by nature.
But tonight, I was a warrior who was not leaving without his mate.