BALECK
The symbols burned in my vision even as I tried to look away from them.
Just a designation. A serial number. The kind of mundane identification you’d find on any piece of equipment, any manufactured object. But the language they were written in turned those simple markings into something that made my blood run cold and my skin shift through colors I couldn’t control.
Brakken.
The word echoed in my mind like a death knell. Memories I’d spent years trying to bury clawed their way to the surface. The screech of their vehicles. The stench of their weapons. The bodies of my people, twisted and broken. I’d been young during the war, but not too young to fight. Few were, when your enemy wanted nothing less than your complete annihilation.
I’d been trained with azavat, which was a form of bow used to shoot projectiles. I was good at it, as was my sister, and to say I was fortunate was an understatement. My entire family survived the Brakken war. My sister lived with her mate on Lord Scaron’s Sola. My mother and father lived on Lord Savair’s, where I was technically a resident. But I was too much of a wanderer andexplorer to settle for long. All those choices had led me here, to a ravaged planet with a fresh reminder of the horrors I’d seen.
“Baleck.” Iris’s hand tightened on my arm. It pulled me back from the edge of the dark place I’d been spiraling toward. Her grip wasn’t gentle, wasn’t soft. It was the hold of someone who understood that sometimes you needed an anchor, not comfort. “Look at me.” Slender fingers pressed to my cheek and turned my head. “Not the symbols. Look at me.”
I dragged my gaze away from the probe and found her eyes.
Dark brown, nearly black. Intense and unwavering. She held my gaze without blinking. Her face was close enough that I could see the faint texture of the healed skin on her left cheek, the slight flare of her nostrils, the firm set of her mouth. She was utterly focused on me, as if nothing else in the world existed except this moment, this connection. Her fingers felt like they were leaving a brand on my cheek.
My entire world narrowed to her.
The rocky landscape faded. The probe with its Brakken markings became irrelevant. The fear that had been clawing at my chest quieted, replaced by something else entirely. Something warm and overwhelming that I wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t imagine anyone more beautiful.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
The words came out before I could stop them. Before I could think about whether they were appropriate or wise or welcome. They simply emerged, honest and unfiltered, because I was Destran and we didn’t hide what we felt. Our skin betrayed us anyway, so why bother trying?
Iris snatched her hand from my cheek and blinked. Her lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across features that were usually so carefully controlled. It was the first crack I’d seen in her composure. And then, most remarkably, color rose in herface. A flush that spread up from her jaw to her cheeks, turning the different skin on her cheek a deeper tone.
She was flustered. Actually flustered. The unflappable female was blushing because I’d called her beautiful. Surely someone had called her that before.
The moment lasted only a heartbeat. Then she collected herself. Her expression smoothed back into its familiar neutrality. But the flush remained, and something in her eyes had shifted. Softened, maybe, though that might have been wishful thinking on my part.
“Tell me about the Brakken,” she said, releasing my arm and leaning back. Her voice was steady, professional, but I noticed she didn’t look directly at me. “Why would their probe be here?”
I took a breath and stood up, rubbing my head as I tried to gather my scattered thoughts. I couldn’t imagine what colors my face was displaying. Probably a chaotic mess of everything I was feeling, fear and attraction and confusion all swirled together in a pattern that would make no sense to anyone watching.
“The war ended almost nine sun cycles ago,” I began, forcing myself to focus on the question rather than the lingering warmth where her hand had gripped my arm. “Ah. You probably know all about this.”
“From reports.” She shrugged. “Tell me about the Brakken from your perspective.”
“Fine.” I sighed and took a few steps away, needing some space from that probe. “After the humans assisted us in the final battles, the remaining Brakken forces broke into smaller factions and dispersed. Scattered across the galaxy, broken and leaderless.”
I paced a few more steps, needing the movement to help organize my thoughts. Iris watched me with patient, focused attention. No impatient sighs. Just listening.
“For a long time, we thought their aggression was simply…what they were. A violent species bent on conquest and destruction. But the truth was more complicated.” I paused, remembering the revelations that had come after the war. The ones that had made everything both better and worse. “Their addiction to lami was the real cause. Or at least, the primary one.”
“Lami,” Iris repeated. “The substance your Solas produce.”
“Yes. It’s essential for Destrans. Nutrition, healing, connection to our ships. But for other species, it has different effects. For the Brakken, it was devastatingly addictive. And that addiction was exploited.” My jaw tightened with old anger. “There was an opportunistic group. A corrupt human scientist, several members of other advanced species. They fueled the Brakken’s addiction, used it to manipulate them into war against us. We were obstacles in the way of their access to lami, so we had to be eliminated.”
“War profiteers,” Iris said flatly. “Using biological addiction as a weapon.”
“Essentially.” I stopped pacing and faced her. “When we finally settled on the planet we now call home, something changed. The Solas began producing a different type of lami. It has the same nutritional and medical benefits for us and other species, but without the addictive qualities. Without the addiction driving them, without the manipulators pulling their strings, the Brakken threat seemed to be over. Forever.”
“But now you’re wondering if that assessment was wrong.”
I nodded slowly, glancing back at the probe with its damning markings. “What if they were just waiting? Regrouping in the shadows while we let our guard down?” The possibilities multiplied in my mind, each worse than the last. “The Destran home world was lost to us for untold generations. Storms madeit uninhabitable, and we forgot where it was. But now it’s been found. The storms are ending. The planet is healing.”
