“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 learnedhow 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. Myzavat, 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, bluelights 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.
