Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)

Against a whole station full of her comrades.

Even with all this chaos, Level 2 is the most secure part of the facility. There’s four guards at the end of the corridor—big bruiser types wearing heavy tac gear, looking a little nervous as the station shakes and shudders. But they’re holding position until ordered to leave, because that’s what good soldiers do.

Fortunately, Nari is no slouch either. This girl is going to help found Aurora Academy one day—in theory. With the element of surprise, she could take these goons out easily. But here’s another problem. We’ll call it 3.1.

Nari refuses to kill anyone.

And I don’t mean she refuses to just point-blank shoot them—these people are her friends and comrades, that’s no big riddle. But the alert to evac the station is going to happen any minute now, and Nari doesn’t want to leave a bunch of people sprawled unconscious while the station blows up around them either. So as if breaking into the most secure part of the whole facility wasn’t hard enough, she’s gotta knock out everyone she comes across.

Gently.

She insists on giving them the best possible chance of waking up in time to run for it. I love that about her, but it’s killing us. Literally.

The biggest guard raises an eyebrow as he sees her approaching down the corridor. He’s named Kowalski, apparently—Nari told us they spot each other in the gym. His voice is almost drowned out by all the alarms.

“You lost, soldier?”

“Feels that way,” Nari replies, drawing out Zila’s disruptor.

The pistol is set to Stun, but a blast to the face has still gotta hurt. His colleagues reach for their sidearms, but Nari has the drop on them, and with a flash of disruptor fire, the remaining three guards are sprawled on the deck. Even with the weapon at minimum setting, they’re going to be sleepytime for at least fifteen minutes.

“Good work, Nari,” Zila murmurs. “Quickly now.”

Nari snatches Kowalski’s passcard. We’ve discovered by trial and error that the cameras in this section are all still working, so SecTeams are being scrambled right now to deal with this masked saboteur. Nari is officially on the clock.

The ball of ice in my stomach is growing colder.

She barrels into the elevator, stabs the DOWN button. We can hear her breath over comms, strained and quick.

“Remember there are three,” Zila warns. “The third comes from your—”

“Nine o’clock, I know, I know.”

The elevator reaches Level 2, the door pings open. Nari rolls out into the corridor beyond as a security guard yells, “FREEZE!” A shot rings out. Another and another. The lighting is bloodred, flashing to white as Nari lets loose with her disruptor, striking the first guard in the chest. A burst of auto-fire turns the uniglass screen white, and I wince again as I hear a roar, a bang, Nari cursing. The picture shakes wildly, the uniglass falls out of her pocket, and I see Zila’s jaw clench, a tiny bead of sweat on her brow. We hear a grunt, another blast of auto-fire, and the alarm’s shifting pitch as the station shudders again. But the uni is on the floor, and all we can see now is the ceiling, the ducts, red flashing to white.

“SECURITY ALERT, LEVEL 2. REPEAT: SECURITY ALERT, LEVEL 2.”

“Chakk … ,” Fin breathes.

“Attention, Glass Slipper personnel. Hull breach on Decks 13 through 17.”

“Nari?” Zila asks. “Nari, can you hear me?”

“Five by five,” comes the reply, heavy, panting.

The uniglass gets picked up, and we see Nari’s face, the visor of her helmet tipped back. She’s pale, wincing.

“Are you well?” Zila demands. “Status?”

“I got her this time,” Nari grins, ragged. “Nine o’clock, just like you said. It was Liebermann. Goddamn, she’s a good shot.”

“Not as good as you,” Fin smiles.

Nari coughs. “I dunno about that… .”

My heart sinks as I see blood at her mouth, on her teeth. She lowers the uniglass, points the camera at her stomach, and my own stomach rolls at the sight of the ragged bleeding hole in her flight suit, just under her ribs.

“Oh Maker … ,” Fin breathes.

“I’m okay,” Nari insists. “I got this.”

I glance at Zila again, see the hurt in her eyes as she watches Nari slip the uniglass back into her pocket. The station shakes. The door at the end of the corridor is marked in large white letters.

NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL BEYOND THIS POINT.

“SECURITY ALERT, LEVEL 2. REPEAT: SECURITY ALERT, LEVEL 2.”

“Think that’s for m-me?” Nari chuckles.

“This is the farthest she’s ever got,” Fin breathes.

I nod, hope surging. “She might make it this time.”

“Zila, you need to prep the shuttle for launch,” Fin warns. “I’m gonna start working on the bay doors.”

“Just a moment … ,” she whispers.

“Attention, Glass Slipper personnel. All engineering staff report to Gamma Section, Deck 12, immediately.”

Zila watches the projection, lips pressed tight. Nari stumbles on, breathing hard but moving quick. She uses her stolen passcard, the bulkhead shudders as it groans and opens wide, and for a moment, the light flares so bright the uni screen goes totally white.

“That’s it … ,” Zila whispers.

“Great Maker,” Fin breathes.

In front of Nari we see a large circular room, bathed red in alert lighting. The walls, the ceiling, the floor are all scarred by long slashes of black—scorch marks, I realize. Conduits and pipes twist out from massive banks of computers, snaking along the floor to a cylindrical tank of glass in the center of the room. The glass is cracked, charred in places. And inside it, pulsing with light like a heartbeat, is the broken Eshvaren probe.

I feel heat on my chest, look down at my medallion and feel it pulse. As if it somehow knows what I’m looking at.

“What the hell are you doing here?” someone barks.

It’s a scientist, dressed in a heavy white radsuit. Nari turns, fires her disruptor. The man cries out and falls. Another man in white protection gear draws a sidearm, fires, and sparks rain off the computer banks as Nari dives to one side and lands hard, coughing wetly. With a gasp, she rolls upward and fires, once, twice, dropping the man to the floor. The probe thrums, the light in the room flushes purple, then drops to black, the walls shaking.

“SECURITY ALERT, LEVEL 2. REPEAT: SECURITY ALERT, LEVEL 2.”

“She’s really gonna do it … ,” Fin breathes.

“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH. EVACUATE DECKS 5 THROUGH 6 IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: CONTAINMENT BREACH—”

“Okay,” Nari gasps, hauling herself to her feet. “How the hell do I unplug this fuc—”

There’s one minute left to the lightning strike. Even if she could do it now, we’d be too late. But I can’t look away.

“FREEZE!” someone roars.

A burst of auto-fire squeals across the feed. We hear Nari curse. As she lunges to one side, I see a squadron of sec goons pouring into the lab, weapons flaring. Nari hits her belly and rolls, blasting away with her disruptor. But she’s outnumbered. Outgunned.

We all know how this is going to end.

Over and over.

“Oh no,” I whisper.

“Flank right! Flank right!” someone shouts.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

A thundering BOOM crashes across the feed. The picture flares white.

“Nari … ,” Zila breathes.

“Goddamn it,” we hear her grunt.

The picture shudders. Nari curses in pain, dragging the uni out of her pocket. We can see her face now, spattered in blood. Hear the sound of running boots. The braying chatter of covering fire.

“Sorry, kids,” Nari gasps, teeth red. “No dice.”

“So close,” Fin whispers.

“So far,” I sigh.

Zila reaches out to the projection on the screen.

Touches Nari’s face.

“See you soon.”

BANG.





25



TYLER





I’ve gamed this out a thousand times, and I’m still not sure I can pull it off.