welling in her eyes, and though she struggles to maintain her composure, it’s crumbling anyway. She looks up at Tyler, her voice shaking. “I’m not s-supposed to be here.”
And even though she almost killed me, looking down at this poor girl, I can’t help but feel a swell of sympathy for her. I put a hand on her shoulder, squeeze it gently as she hangs her head, tears pattering on her lap.
“It’s okay, Aurora.”
“I want to wake up,” she whispers fiercely. “I want to wake up on Octavia III l-like I was supposed to.”
Zila tilts her head. “The Hadfield expedition was bound for Lei Gong III, and—”
“No, it wasn’t!” Aurora insists, a fire lighting in her tear-filled eyes as she glares at us. “I’m telling you, we were headed for Octavia! I spent years studying every centimeter of the planet, I know which one it was! I don’t know why they’re trying to wipe away any trace of it, any trace of me, but that’s what’s happening here.”
Cat rolls her eyes at the outburst, drumming her fingers on her console. Kal folds his arms, his customary Syldrathi callousness falling into place at the display of oh, so human emotion. But Aurora doesn’t seem to care.
“I w-want to go ho-ome,” she repeats, the tears resurging as she abandons the attempt to hold herself together. “I want my family back. I didn’t ask for any of this! I didn’t ask for any of it and I want to go HOME!”
Tyler watches the girl break down, and I can see his heart in his throat. The questions in his eyes. Truth is, none of us know what the hells we’re doing out here. De Stoy and Adams might have sent this girl with us for a reason. But Tyler was raised to play it by the book, and I can see how badly this is eating him. The thought that we’re wanted criminals, probably suspected for the murder of our own people.
We’re in deeper than we could’ve imagined.
“Three votes in favor of pushing on. And three against. Squad Leader breaks ties.” Tyler looks sadly at Aurora and sighs. “Cat, set a course for Aurora Academy. We’re going home.”
“Roger that.” Cat smiles.
Kal sighs and shakes his head, but he doesn’t dissent. Tyler drags his hand through his hair as Cat’s fingers fly over her controls.
“Okay, course locked,” she reports. “Should be back at station b—”
The Longbow shudders, sudden and violent. I reach out to steady myself when the ship bucks again, and I’m suddenly thrown into the wall, gasping in pain as I hit the titanium, then the floor. Brushing my bangs from my eyes, I look around the bridge and see the rest of my squad scattered across the decking, groaning, wincing. Only Kal has managed to keep his feet. Finian’s voice crackles over comms.
“What in the Maker’s name was that?”
“Did something hit us?” Tyler demands.
“Nothing on scanners, sir,” Zila reports.
“Cat, report,” Tyler demands.
“We’ve …” Cat stabs at her console for confirmation. “Stopped?”
“Engines are offline?”
“No, I mean we’ve bloody stopped. Engines are at thrust, but it’s like …” Cat shakes her head. “Like something is holding us in place.”
“Not something,” I breathe. “Someone.”
The rest of the squad follows my eyeline, until we’re all staring at Aurora. Our girl out of time has her head thrown back, her right eye burning with ghostly white light. Her body is trembling with effort, veins taut at her neck, in her arms. As we watch, another thin trickle of blood spills from her nose.
“Maker’s breath,” Tyler whispers.
“T-t-ttrig-ggerrrrr,” Aurora says.
Up on her knees, Cat has her disruptor aimed at Auri’s head, but smooth as silk, Kal steps in between our Ace and her target.
“Get out of the way, Kal!”
“You will not hurt her!”
Aurora turns her eyes on Tyler, her whole body shaking. The Longbow’s shaking, too, violent, terrifying, as if the whole ship is trying to tear itself apart.
“Buh … B-buh … ,” she stutters.
“What?” Tyler breathes, leaning closer.
“B … B-belieeeve …”
Another tremor hits, knocking me back to the floor. The hull groans around us, the rivets squealing as they start to turn. Tyler looks at me. At his squad. At the ship around us, convulsing so hard it might fly to pieces. I can see the wheels spinning behind his eyes. Weighing up the danger to his crew. The warning de Stoy and Adams gave us as we left the station. His hand goes to the lump beneath his tunic—our dad’s senate ring, hanging on the titanium