Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(123)

“Contact! Contact!” a marine cries behind us. “Section A, Level 3!”

I dive away from the escape pods, dragging Saedii with me into an adjacent corridor as more rifles open up on us. Their shots go wide as Kusanagi takes another hit. I can see half a dozen TDF marines behind cover at the end of our corridor. I’m not sure how they zeroed us—maybe the ident numbers on our breastplates—but however they did it, their disruptors are set to Kill. I press back against the corner of the T-junction, cracking off a few haphazard shots. The escape pods are right there, maybe five meters away. But they might as well be five kilometers now.

Are you okay? I yell into Saedii’s head.

Lower your voice, Tyler Jones, she says, slinging off her smoking helmet.

Tossing her hair from her eyes, Saedii lifts her rifle and starts shooting around the corner. And suddenly we’re in a firefight for our lives. The dim light is punctured by muzzle flashes, screaming alarms are drowned out by disruptor fire. Saedii cries warning in my mind as another group of marines opens up from the opposite end of the corridor. If they maneuver around behind us, we’re dead.

The air is filled with the sizzling bursts of disruptor shots, my rifle bucking in my hand. I’m not shooting with much finesse, just trying to get the TDF marines to keep their heads down. But one glance over my shoulder tells me Saedii has already taken out three of them—two with face shots and another with a blast into the fire extinguisher on the wall beside him, which exploded and knocked him senseless. And all this after she took a Kill shot to the skull.

Maker’s breath, this girl is good… .

I heard that.

DAMMIT, STOP IT.

Saedii smirks over her shoulder at me as I crack off a lucky shot, taking out a marine sergeant with a Stun blast right into his visor. He collapses, out cold.

Fine shooting, Tyler Jones.

All the fine shooting in the ’Way isn’t gonna help us here—we’re outnumbered ten to one!

Another blast rocks the Kusanagi, another burst of fire forces me back behind cover. If we stay here much longer, we’re finished. I tear off my helmet so I can breathe a little better, pawing the sweat from my eyes as I glance at the escape pods across the corridor from us. They’re made to open quick in the event of an emergency; it wouldn’t take much time to get inside one. But running across the corridor to reach them, risking the crossfire between us and them …

Give me your rifle, I tell Saedii, holding out my hand.

… Why?

You go first. I’ll cover you.

She scowls. I do not need your assistance, boy.

Maker’s breath, does everything have to be a fight with you?

Yes, she says, blasting another marine. I was born for war, Tyler Jones.

Well, you can’t fight a war if you’re dead! So get yourself into the escape pod and alert your crew of psychopaths to pick us up instead of blow us up.

And leave you here?

I’ll follow you.

I duck low as a disruptor blast sizzles over my head, flashes against the wall beside me. I fire off a shot, manage to stun an advancing marine running for cover. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Saedii staring at me.

What? I demand.

Saedii says nothing. Reaching to her tac armor’s belt, she grabs the spare power pack for her disruptor, and slings it across the corridor into an escape pod’s control panel. Her aim is perfect (why am I not surprised?), the glass does indeed break in the case of this particular emergency, and the panel switches from red to green as the hatchway cycles open. I keep blasting away, but I feel Saedii’s hands at my belt, grabbing my rifle’s spare power cell. She repeats the procedure—another dead shot, more broken glass, another pod door open, this one for me. The marines are closing in now, and we only have seconds.

Saedii hands me her rifle. Looks me in the eye.

You have courage, Tyler Jones. Your blood is true.

She grabs my breastplate and, leaning in, kisses my cheek.

Spirits of the Void watch over you, she says.

I swallow hard, meeting her stare.

… You too, I manage.

If you let me get shot, I will rip your heart from your chest and feed it to you.

I almost laugh. Go. I’ve got your back.

I lean out into the corridor, let loose with a flurry of blasts, one rifle in each hand. The burst is haphazard—there’s no way I’m gonna hit anything. But the clumsy spray of fire does force the marines back behind cover long enough for Saedii to make a break. She dashes across the corridor and dives like a spear, black hair streaming out behind her as disruptor blasts cut the air around her, right through the escape pod’s open door to safety.

It slams shut behind her. The diode switches from green to blue. And as another blast rocks the Kusanagi, Saedii’s pod blasts free.

I can taste smoke now, the damage reports spilling thick and fast from the PA as Kusanagi takes another hit. I thank the Maker more marines haven’t already been scrambled, but I’m guessing they’re too busy not getting blown to pieces by those Syldrathi Banshees out there. For a second, I find myself praying Saedii makes it out okay. That her people can pick her up before the TDF blasts her out of space. But then I realize I should really be praying for myself.

My rifle suddenly runs empty. I glance at the power level on the weapon Saedii gave me—it’s down to 13 percent. And, looking across the corridor, alive with disruptor fire, I can see my only two spare power cells lying on the floor among shards of broken glass.