“Oh shit … ,” Scarlett whispers.
“Repeat, this is Battle Leader de Stoy. Multiple unauthorized vessels breaching Aurora FoldGate. All stations Ready one status.”
“It’s here,” Fin breathes.
“No,” I frown, easing them both out of my arms and looking through the viewport at the gate beyond. “The Ra’haam is still nineteen hours fr—”
“Legionnaire Jones, this is de Stoy, do you copy?”
I tap the comm badge at my chest.
“I read you, Commander.”
“You’d best get your tail up to C&C on the double, soldier.”
I look to the FoldGate again, my belly twisting as dark shapes begin pouring through the rift.
I put my hand to the plasteel viewport, heart breaking loose in my chest, not quite believing what I’m seeing.
“I know those ships … ,” I whisper.
“Ty?” Scar asks. “What are—”
But I’m already running, barreling down the promenade through the milling crowd, roaring at the top of my lungs. “Scar, Fin, come on!”
“Where the hells are you g—”
“JUST COME ON!”
Scar and Finian follow me through the fleeing crowd and into the turbolift. We ride up to the bridge of the C&C tower in silence, Fin and Scar looking at me like I’m half-crazy, me wondering if I’m all the way gone.
I didn’t dare hope, didn’t dare even let myself think about it, but as the three of us pile out into the crowded decks of Aurora Command and Control, my suspicion is confirmed, a storm of butterflies breaking loose in my stomach just as a goofy-as-hells smile breaks out all over my face.
“What is that?” Fin asks, looking at the monitor screens.
“She did it,” I grin. “She made it.”
The shapes are clearer now, spilling through the blinding flare of the FoldGate and into the Aurora system. A fleet of battleships, sleek and sharp, black hulls daubed with beautiful glyfs of gleaming white. A people born with the taste of blood in their mouths.
A people born for war.
Battle Leader de Stoy stands among her staff, looking about as certain as a commander running on zero sleep in the middle of a galactic cataclysm can. Her thin, pale face is set in a scowl, black eyes fixed on me.
“They’ve been hailing us for the past five minutes,” she informs us. “They want to speak to you, Jones.”
I nod, standing a little taller. “Roger that, ma’am.”
The image of the incoming fleet on the holoscreen in front of us dissolves, that massive armada replaced by a single face. Her hair is dark as the empty spaces between the stars, her eyes shining like dark jewels, black lips curled into a tiny smile as she lays eyes on me.
She’s beautiful. Fierce. Brilliant. Ruthless.
Like no one I’ve ever known.
“Saedii … ,” Fin whispers.
“Tyler Jones,” Saedii says.
“About time,” I smile, scarred eyebrow rising slightly. “I wondered if you planned to sleep through the entire war.”
Scar and Fin both look at me, gobsmacked. Saedii only scoffs. “Time enough to sleep in the grave, Terran.”
“Did you do what you needed?” I ask. “Get what you wanted?”
Saedii spreads her arms, as if to encompass the Unbroken armada at her command. Her smile is triumphant, and I notice there’s a new chain hanging around her neck, silver, strung with half a dozen severed Syldrathi ears. “I am a Templar of the Unbroken, Tyler Jones. I do what I wish, I go where I please, and I take what I want.”
“You know what’s coming for us.”
She nods, fierce and grim. “We have seen.”
“Then you know there’s no way out of this,” I warn. “Our only real plan here is to take out as much of it as we can before the big goodbye.”
“We will dance the dance of blood with you. We will paint the sun red this day.” She shakes her head. “And Unbroken do not say goodbye.”
My heart is burning in my chest at the sight of her. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her until this moment. I hold out my hand toward her, and she raises her own, as if to press her palm against mine.
I wish we had more time, I wish I’d gotten to know her better, I wish …
“I’m glad you’re here, Saedii Gilwraeth.”
Black lips curl in the smallest of smiles. “I am also pleased to fight once more at your side, Tyler Jones. And …”
“And?”
“… And to see you again.”