“A vulnerable target,” Iris said, following my logic.
“Exactly. If the Brakken, or even a faction of them, learned about this discovery, they might see an opportunity. A chance to take the original Destran world, to mine it for resources, to find Solas or lami sources we don’t even know about.” I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of what I was suggesting. “Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe it’s just revenge. We destroyed them, after all. Or we thought we did. Perhaps they’ve been nursing that grudge, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.”
Iris was quiet for a moment, processing everything I’d told her. I watched her face, looking for any sign of what she was thinking, but her expression had returned to its usual careful neutrality. The flush had faded from her cheeks, though I could still see a hint of color along her jaw.
“We don’t know anything,” she said finally. “Not for certain. One probe with Brakken markings doesn’t confirm an invasion or a revenge plot. It could be a relic from the war, finally landing after years drifting in space. It could be from a peaceful faction trying to make contact. It could be something else entirely.”
“You’re right.” The rational part of my mind knew she was right. But the part that remembered the war, that still woke sometimes from nightmares of Brakken soldiers tearing through our Sola, wasn’t so easily convinced.
“What we need to do,” Iris continued, her voice taking on that efficient, mission-focused tone I was beginning to recognize, “is document everything. Take all the data back and share it with both human and Destran leadership. Let them analyze it, cross-reference it with their intelligence networks, make informed decisions based on the data.”
I nodded. It was the sensible approach. The professional approach. The approach I would have suggested myself if I hadn’t been too busy slipping into panic and then accidentally telling Iris she was beautiful.
Iris moved to her pack, crouching down to dig through its contents. When she straightened, she was holding a small pouch that I recognized immediately. The sight of it made something twist in my chest.
She held it out to me. “Here.”
I stared at the pouch of lami, then at her face. “Why do you have that?”
She shrugged, the motion almost casual. “In case you needed it.”
Such a simple statement. Such a small gesture. But she had thought about me when she was packing for this trip. Had considered what I might need and had made sure to bring it. This female, who kept everyone at a distance, who showed nothing of what she felt, had packed lami for me.
I took the pouch, my fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thank you.”
She nodded and turned back to her pack, clearly uncomfortable with this moment of connection. I watched her for a heartbeat, then remembered something.
“Wait.” I dug into my own pack, pushing aside the supplies I’d brought until my fingers found the wrapped package I’d tucked in that morning. I pulled it out and held it toward her.
Iris turned, her eyes dropping to the package in my hand. It was small, rectangular, wrapped in plain brown material. Her brow furrowed slightly.
“What is that?”
“Open it.”
She took it from me slowly and unwrapped it. Then, she stared at what lay inside.
A chocolate bar. Dark brown, divided into neat squares, the surface slightly glossy.
“It’s synthesized,” I said, suddenly worried that she might not like it. “Not the real thing. But Cleo talked about how much she craved chocolate, and she said it was a favorite treat of humans. So when I saw it available in the food synthesizer the transport ship left behind, I thought…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. “I thought you might like it. I thought it might make you smile.”
Iris was still staring at the chocolate. Her expression had shifted again, though I couldn’t quite read it. Surprise, certainly. But something else underneath. Something that looked almost vulnerable.
“I don’t…like chocolate,” she said quietly. “I love chocolate.”
Relief flooded through me. “Then I’m glad I brought it.”
She looked up at me, and for a moment, her usual mask slipped. I saw something raw in her eyes. Gratitude, maybe. Or confusion about why she was feeling grateful. Or something else that neither of us was going to put a name to in this moment.
“Thank you,” she said, sounding a little choked. She tucked the chocolate bar carefully into her pack, handling it like something precious. Her hands, I noticed, weren’t quite steady.
I didn’t comment on it. Instead, I opened the pouch of lami she’d given me and drank deeply. The liquid was cool and spread through my body with familiar comfort. The tension in my muscles began to ease. The racing of my heart slowed. The memory of Brakken symbols eased to something manageable rather than overwhelming.
“Better?” Iris asked.
“Much.” I wiped my mouth and tucked the empty pouch away. “Thank you. For thinking of it.”
She nodded, already pulling another device from her pack. This one was different from the scanner. Smaller, with a lens onone end and a series of controls on the body. A recording device, I realized, as she powered it on and turned toward the probe.
