Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(55)

I drink.

“You and your crew were obtaining data from the Hephaestus salvage fleet,” Saedii says. “Records show that the flight recorder your technician destroyed aboard the Totentanz belonged to an ancient Terran derelict. The Hadfield. A vessel that set out from your world over two centuries ago.” She slices off another sliver of fruit, presses it to her tongue. “What do you want with two-hundred-year-old truths, little Terran?”

“I’m a history buff,” I reply.

“Know the past,” she says, “or suffer the future.”

“Exactly.”

“You are lying,” she says, cool and mild. “Continue to do so, and I will have your sister suffer the most gruesome of torments before I flush her into space.”

“Considering you were willing to feed us to a monster an hour ago, I presume you’re going to kill us all anyway.” I shrug. “And if this information is so important to you, maybe you should have started with the interrogation and proceeded to the execution, instead of the other way around?”

“My brother has all these answers too, little Terran,” she replies calmly. “You are not an essential part of this equation.”

“Then why bother talking to me at all?”

The knife flashes. Another sliver of fruit disappears between Saedii’s black lips. It’s a long moment before she replies.

“It is not often I see a lone combatant best a full-grown drakkan.” She looks me up and down, eyes sparkling. “I recognize your prowess. And your bloodline. Jericho Jones was a foe worthy of respect.”

A flash of anger runs through me then. I feel my jaw tighten, my teeth clench.

“That didn’t stop your people murdering him at Orion.”

She raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “We are warriors, Tyler Jones, not widows. Weep not for the wages of war. And while your peerage is to be respected, do not believe for a moment I will not kill you and your sister and your little cripple to learn what I want.”

I bristle at the insult to Fin, eyes narrowing. She simply smiles as the barb lands. Meeting her stare, I realize this girl is from a culture entirely alien to mine—a culture where strength is prized, cruelty encouraged, weakness despised. I’m beginning to appreciate how hard it must have been for Kal to break out of that cycle, become the person he is. The longer I spend in his sister’s presence, the more impressed with him I am. And the more I loathe her.

But while almost all Warbreed genuinely think this way, I realize Saedii is mostly just goading me. Pressing buttons. Watching reactions. Everything she’s done since she arrived—the water, the threats, the talk about my crew, my father—it’s all been to gauge the kind of person I am.

I glance at the strategy games around the room. A dozen different games from a dozen different worlds. I realize all of them have been involved in conflicts with the Syldrathi in the last fifty years.

I always study my prey.

“The one named Aurora.” Saedii’s lip draws back in ever-so-slight contempt. “The girl my dear brother names be’shmai.”

“Finally getting to the point, I see,” I say.

Her hand drifts up to the string of severed thumbs around her neck.

“You males,” she sighs. “Always in such a rush.”

Isha trills, golden eyes flashing.

“She lacks the skills and training of a legionnaire,” Saedii continues. “Who is she? Where is she from? Why do you travel with her?”

“She stowed away on our ship,” I reply. “She’s from Earth. And your brother would be upset if I sent her away.”

“Half-truths,” Saedii coos, reaching up to scratch the drakkan under her chin. “The little Terran believes he is clever, Isha. He still believes he is in control here. Should we kill the sister first? Or that twisted little Betraskan toad?”

“Does it make you feel bigger?” I ask. “Trying to make others look small?”

“You are small, little Terran,” she replies. “Small and weak and frightened. Your own government names you terrorists. Your own people hunt you like hounds.”

“And what would your government name you?” I reply. “I mean, if you hadn’t murdered them all for daring to make peace with Earth?”

“ ‘Peace’ is the way a cur cries ‘Surrender,’ ” Saedii replies, studying her fingernails. “Mercy is the province of cowards. The Inner Council of Syldra was in league with our enemies. They were traitors to the Syldrathi people.”

“So you destroyed them along with your own homeworld?” I demand, anger creeping into my voice. “Along with ten billion of those innocent Syldrathi people?”

“The Syldrathi people accepted the treaty with Terra, boy. They had lost their honor. They deserved no pity, and Archon Caersan showed them none.”

I bristle again at the name. Caersan. The Starslayer. The man who destroyed his own world and led the assault on Orion—the attack where we lost our dad.

“You know, it’s funny,” I reply. “You Unbroken always talk about honor. But last time I checked, attacking during a peace negotiation is just as cowardly as stabbing someone in the back. Seems to me your beloved Starslayer is about as honorable as your garden-variety cockroach.”

Saedii’s eyes flash at that.