Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(61)

She seemed to appreciate my help getting the rift drive going again, at least—ironically, I provided the “unsophisticated push” Caersan wants from me to transport the Weapon home. I’m not sure of the science of it—Lae was the one guiding us, I was the raw power, diving into that stream again, immolating and exhilarating. Together, we used the fragment of Eshvaren crystal in the Vindicator’s core to open a series of gates over a span of eight hours, jumping the ship half a dozen times across the gulf of space.

It required a fraction of effort from me. Almost inconsequential. But from the cracks around Lae’s eyes, I can tell how much it costs her every time they travel. Despite her hardcase attitude, that alone tells me she’s a good person. Everyone on Tyler’s crew is. Giving so much of themselves to bring survivors here.

The last piece of civilization in the galaxy.

“About damn time,” Tyler mutters.

I rise from my seat, standing at his shoulder as we cruise in closer to the World Ship. He glances at me, and for an instant his eye widens, breath catching, body tensing in the space between heartbeats.

“Tyler?” Half the crew frowns every time I use his name instead of his title, but I know switching to Commander isn’t the way to remind him we’re friends. I reach out for his hand. “You okay?”

“It’s nothing,” he replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been in the Fold a long time. I’m too old for this shit.”

Fold psychosis. I’d forgotten. Aurora Legion squads form when the legionnaires are eighteen because by age twenty-five or so, more than seven hours in the Fold puts too much strain on you. It’s why I was in coldsleep on my way to Octavia—Fold psychosis is no joke. And Tyler’s in his late forties now. Which is just weird.

What did he just see when he looked at me?

What is it doing to him?

“Never thought I’d see this place again,” I say, offering him a small smile, diverting the conversation. It’s not just that I need him on my side. It’s that I can’t bear to see him like this. “Last time I saw this view, we were following my weird backward directions, didn’t even know why we were coming, let alone that we’d soon be pulling a heist, facing down the Great Ultrasaur of Abraaxis IV.”

“Wait,” says a voice behind us. Elin, the Betraskan, is sitting forward. “That chakk about the Great Ultrasaur was true?”

“You should have seen the pants your boss was wearing,” I reply.

Just for an instant I win a smirk from Elin. Then she remembers that I disappeared at the Battle of Terra and caused the end of everything, and her expression hardens again.

“You wouldn’t believe how many favors I ended up owing Dariel over the years,” Tyler says, something about him a touch softer. “He kept threatening to collect, but he never did.” He pauses a beat and then closes his eye, rubbing at the patch covering the other. “He died six years back on a retrieval mission.”

Kal comes up to stand beside me as I search for something, anything, to say to that. But as always, he fills the void for me.

“This place has seen many battles,” he murmurs.

Tyler nods. “The Ra’haam. We’ve fought at least fifty engagements with it. No matter where we hide, eventually it tracks us down.”

“But you fight it off each time?” Kal asks.

“Hell no. We run.” Tyler nods to the massive ship. “There’s a rift drive inside her. All the rest of the Eshvaren crystal we managed to scrounge. And every Waywalker left alive in the galaxy. When the Ra’haam appears, they open up a gate and fling Sempiternity as far away as they can.”

“Giving another piece of themselves each time they do so,” Lae says softly. “Until there is nothing left.”

Tyler looks at her with concern in his eyes, lips thin.

“But the Weeds always manage to find us again anyway,” Toshh growls. “Bastards can sense us. Smell us.”

Tyler nods. “Usually takes them around three weeks. A month if we’re lucky. The last time they hit us was only ten days back, so we should be safe in this location for a while.”

I’m horrified by the thought. Of never being safe. Never being able to rest. Always being hunted by that … thing that consumed my father. Cat. Octavia. And if it gets its way, everything else in the galaxy.

The power crackles at my fingertips. Every hair on my body stands up.

I can’t let this be the galaxy’s future.

I won’t.

“What can you tell us about the council we’ll be meeting?” I ask.

“The Council of Free Peoples,” Tyler replies. “There’s four sitting members. The three largest groups of survivors supply one each, and the smaller take turns to cycle in two representatives a year. So there’s a Syldrathi from the Watcher Cabal, a Betraskan, and a Rikerite—a politician, a pragmatist, and a warrior. And right now the minority rep is an Ulemna.”

“Humans are one of the minorities?” I ask, my heart curling in on itself.

“No,” he replies, eye on the station ahead. “We’re banned from the council. Elin, get on comms and notify Sempiternity command we’re inbound. And remind them about the massive Eshvaren crystal we have in tow so nobody pops the panic button and chucks a nuke in our direction.”