“Yeah, but she got me shot. And blown up. And incinerated. And admiral’s stars or no, I’m certain she was still a colossal pain in the ass.”
Scar laughs and squeezes my hand, smiling at the statue above. “She does look good, now you mention it. I think they polished her.”
“Well, she’s got company coming.”
I nod at a third shape, standing between the Founders. It’s covered in a massive sheet of green velvet, but it’s clear another statue has been built alongside the first two. A statue all these people have come to see.
The mysterious Third Founder. The unsung hero of the whole Ra’haam war, set to be unveiled in tomorrow’s grand celebration. She was content to spend her whole existence in the shadows for the sake of secrecy, of avoiding paradox. A life devoted to saving a galaxy that would never even know who she was.
But tomorrow, we change all that.
Tomorrow, the whole Milky Way will know her name.
“Come on,” Scarlett insists. “We’ll see her tomorrow. The others are waiting.”
We push our way through the crush, the people, all these lives, finally making it to the turbolifts. Rising up, looking out through the transparent walls at the crowd below, I can’t help but smile at the sight.
My smile only widens as we find our meeting room and discover Aurora, Kal, Tyler, and even a scowling Saedii Gilwraeth waiting for us. The scene disintegrates into squealing and hugs as Scar throws herself at Auri, and I have to admit I kind of join in, and Kal bears up with considerable dignity when he’s pulled in too. I notice a neatly dressed, serious young woman standing at the head of the table, but my musings about who she is are cut short as Auri hugs me so tight my exo moves to protective settings around my lungs, to make sure I can keep breathing.
Ty just laughs, and lets it die down of its own accord, reaching out to lay one hand on Saedii’s. She must be feeling pretty loved up today, because she doesn’t even look like she wants to bite it off. I guess they’re making long distance work.
“What are you and Kal doing here?” Scarlett demands, grabbing Aurora’s hand as we all take our seats. “I thought you were on the other side of the galaxy!”
The two of them have been working with the Syldrathi rebuilding effort—now that a peace accord has been signed between the Unbroken and the rest of Syldrathi society, it’s time to do the messy stuff like settling a new planet. Usually Syldrathi don’t like outsiders much, but Auri says her history as a psychic superpower and her connection to the Eshvaren win her enough respect to get by. Probably doesn’t hurt to have a Templar as part of the family, either.
“Are you kidding?” Auri says. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Have you seen the design?” Scar asks.
“Tyler sent it to us,” Kal says, nodding to our Alpha. “Beautiful work, Brother.”
“Still think you should’ve put a disruptor pistol in her ha— OW!” I yelp as Scar kicks me under the table, glowering at me, then smiling at her twin.
“It is beautiful, Ty. Seriously. Zila would be very proud.”
“Zila would be very uncomfortable is what Zila would be.” I grin and rub my bruised shin, looking around the room. “Come on. You think Zila Madran ever imagined herself sculpted a hundred meters high out of solid gold? Maker, I wish she was here so I could see the look on her face when we unveil it.”
“Welllll … ,” Tyler says.
All eyes in the room turn to our Alpha.
“Well what?” Kal says, suspicious.
“… Ty?” Scar asks.
“Well, there’s a reason I called you all here a day early,” he says, nodding to the woman at the head of the table. “And there she is.”
All eyes turn to the stranger now. She’s Terran, maybe mid-twenties, neatly dressed in gray attire. She has a serious face, but she doesn’t scream “military” to me, so I don’t think she’s Legion. She looks around the room at each of us, dark eyes finally settling on Aurora.
“Who are you?” Auri asks.
“A messenger,” she says simply, bringing up a projection from her wrist unit and letting it speak for itself.
Aurora’s face lights up, Scarlett gasps, and I feel my own lips curling in wonder at the projection before us.
It’s Zila.
She’s an old lady, hair completely silver, smile lines at the corners of her eyes. She’s gazing straight down the camera, and it feels like she’s gazing straight at each of us.