Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)

I am on my feet, standing between Aurora and that crackling psychic blade. The air beside me shimmers, shifts, a bloodred sheen slipping over the light in the room. Aurora rises, her eye glowing faintly as the figure of my father materializes in the room. Tall, dark, ten braids draped over the ruin of his face as he lowers his chin and scowls.

Tyler’s weapon is out in a blink, other crew members likewise drawing their arms. They open fire, even as I cry warning, the flash and burst of disruptors and blasters filling the room. But the image of my father only shimmers, like water with stones being thrown into it, and I realize this is merely a projection of consciousness—thrown from the Neridaa to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“Coward!” Lae spits. “De’saiie na vaelto’na!”

My father tilts his head, staring at the furious Waywalker.

“Name me shameless?” he says. “Name me cur? I, who walked the stars before you were born? I, who tore suns from the sky and won battles uncounted? You are not worthy to name yourself Syldrathi, whelp.”

“This is your fault!” she roars. “ALL OF IT!”

He glowers at the woman, a faint glow flickering in his irises. But I see his contempt and anger crack for a moment, a small shadow on his heart.

“Saedii … is …”

Tyler rises, lips peeling back from his teeth as he raises his disruptor. “Get the hells off my ship, motherfucker.”

“Father,” I say softly. “You should leave.”

His gaze shifts to me, then back to Lae, and at last returns to Tyler. The hint of grief I felt in him is swallowed whole, a contemptuous glance falling on the empty metal flask in my old friend’s hand.

“No wonder you fail. With a captain so worthless as this.”

“If I’m so worthless, Starslayer, how is it—”

But he is gone, vanished with a soundless ripple, withdrawing back to his throne aboard the Neridaa. Lae looks to Tyler, spittle on her lips as she hisses, “We should head over to that vessel and end him, Commander.”

“He would destroy you all,” I reply.

“So frightened of him, are you?” Lae scoffs.

“As frightened as I am hateful,” I reply sadly, meeting her narrowing eyes. “And if you had wisdom, you would be also.”

“It falls to those of Caersan’s bloodline to end his dishonor. He is your father. You should have killed him already to restore your family’s name.”

The ache of Saedii’s loss deepens then. My mother’s death ringing in the halls of my memory beside it, sharpening my tongue as I meet Lae’s eyes.

“Family is … complicated,” I growl. “Do not dare preach to me about mine. You have no idea what it is to be a part of it.”

“Why the hells are you working with that bastard, Aurora?” Tyler asks, his voice soft with wonder and loathing.

“We need him, Ty,” she replies. “I’m not used to wielding the Weapon yet. He’s had almost a decade to learn how to use it, and he knows the note to play on the Neridaa to return us to our own time.”

“How is that even possible?” Chief Toshh asks. Beside her, Dacca chatters and nods her head, whiskers twitching.

“I don’t know,” Aurora replies. “But I believe him. If we can get back there, we can undo all of this! We can destroy the Ra’haam before it hatches!”

“So why the hells are you still here?” Tyler demands. “If you can—”

“The Weapon is damaged, Brother. It needs repairs.”

Tyler’s second-in-command fixes me with black, gleaming eyes. “How you going to manage that?”

“I do not know.” I rub my chin. “Do you have a home base? Someplace—”

Dacca chatters, tail lashing as she watches me with gold, slitted eyes.

“Yeah, we got a home base, Pixieboy,” Toshh growls. “But Maker damn us all if we’re giving its location to the Starslayer.”

“Even if we did,” the Betraskan continues, “we have no tech capable of working on a device like that. Not many starports that specialize in Eshvaren crystal superweapons floating around anymore.”

“There is one, though … ,” Aurora murmurs, thoughtful.

I look to her in question, brow creased.

“The Eshvaren homeworld,” she says, meeting my eyes. “Remember? It was hidden inside that Fold anomaly. Maybe it’s still there.”

I nod slowly. “If there is one place we might repair the damage, it would be where the Ancients created the Weapon in the first place.”

“Where was this … anomaly?” Tyler asks.

“In the Theta sector,” I reply. “We visited there with Scarlett and Finian and Zila after you were captured by the GIA.”

“You’re dreaming, Pixieboy,” de Stoy says. “Theta sector is completely overrun with Weeds. They’re thicker than sketi on a martuush blossom there.”

“If we move quickly—”

“The Ra’haam’s power is augmented inside the Fold,” Toshh says. “It feels the psychic ripples of any living thing that enters, and sends fleets after it until it’s consumed.”

“There must be a way, Tyler,” Aurora says.

“Traversing the Theta sector is a bad plan,” he replies.

“Maybe for people who don’t have the best tactician Aurora Academy ever produced on their side.” Aurora smiles. “Tyler Jones doesn’t make bad plans, remember? Just less amazing ones.”

But Tyler doesn’t return the smile, his voice grim, his brow dark.

“That was a long time ago, Auri.”

“We need your help, Brother,” I tell him. “Please.”

Tyler toys with a silver ring on his finger, jaw set, anger and betrayal still bubbling beneath his surface. The Rikerite regards Aurora with old eyes, murmuring, “Perhaps we should run this by the council, Commander.”

Lae scowls at that, snapping, “Why do we care? Why do we care what any of them say or do? We cannot aid the Starslayer, nor his son, nor the fool that binds herself to him. We must kill him to avenge our lost—”

“That’s enough, Lae,” Tyler says.

“No!” she shouts. “Commander, the blood of billions is on his hands! Honor demands his death! We cannot possibly—”

“I said that’s ENOUGH, Lieutenant!” Tyler roars.

The pair stare at each other, eye to eye, Tyler’s will crackling against Lae’s. I can feel the rage in her, the fury. But finally, she lowers her gaze.

“Yessir,” she murmurs.

“What condition is the rift drive in?” he demands.

“… The crystal is showing continuing degradation,” she replies softly. “But it is stable enough for now.”

“How soon can you jump us home?”

Her eyes flicker up to his again, incredulous. But she does not challenge him further, instead watching him carefully with those cracked violet eyes. “I need to rest. An hour, perhaps two. And a jump that far with vessels so large … it will be costly. Sir.”

I see Tyler’s gaze soften. “Is it going to hurt you?”

“It always hurts. But if you are ordering it …”

He looks between Aurora and me again, finally settling his thoughts.

“I can’t make this call alone. Not with everything in the balance. We need to get back to base.” His gaze falls on Aurora, his one good eye hard as steel. “You can plead your case to the Council of Free Peoples. If they decide we help you, then we help. If not, you’re on your own.”

Aurora nods, hurt in her eyes. “I understand. And if you need me …” She looks to Lae, shrugging. “With the drive … I mean, if you need power to move us, maybe I can help.”

Lae glances toward the Neridaa—that massive vessel moved here by the power of Aurora’s will alone. She nods curtly. “I will accept your aid.”

“All right,” Tyler says. “Dacca, Toshh, get those refugees situated. Elin, I want us to stay on Alert Two in case more Weeds show up. An hour isn’t too long to stay in one place, but soon as we can, we jump for home.”

“Sir, yessir,” comes the reply.

“Let’s move like we got a purpose.”

The crew breaks up, heading off to their assigned tasks. With a soft smile to me, Aurora leaves with Lae to inspect the drive. Tyler and I are left alone, staring at each other across the table. There is much to be said between us, but I am unsure if this is the place or indeed if he would listen. So instead, I ask the question burning in my mind.

“Where is home in a galaxy like this, Brother?”

He looks to the window, that red sun, those silent worlds. I allow myself the smallest hint of hope that he has not yet denied me the use of that title. “You’ve been there before, actually.”