But I look deep into his eyes, and I think I see something left of what he was. Something of the man I feared and loved and hated.
“So,” he says, disappointed. “You are still your mother’s son.”
And though I cannot move to strike him, though I can barely muster the strength to breathe, still I draw enough to speak.
“I am n-not yours.”
His eyes narrow. The storm wind rises around us, the Waywalkers begin to scream, and I look to the girl who was my all and my everything, watching as she raises her head and looks at me.
“K-Kal …”
“Be’shmai,” I whisper.
And then I feel my father reach into my mind.
And he tears me apar—
39
TYLER
Auxiliary power has been restored to this section of the ship, and Saedii and I are charging toward the escape pods in the dim glow of the emergency lights. I presume the TDF marine squads are still looking for us back on the detention level, but the Unbroken attack seems to be occupying most of the crew’s attention. The decks are a hive of activity: marines, techs, repair crews, pilots all flooding to their battle stations, the ship shaking around us as the conflict rages through the Fold.
The reports we’re getting over the headsets in our stolen helmets aren’t so good. Turns out Saedii and I were both wrong—it’s not an Eidolon hitting us, but four Banshee-class Syldrathi cruisers. The ship we’re on, the Kusanagi, is a heavy carrier, but Banshees have cloaking tech that makes them almost invisible to conventional radar—probably how they snuck up on us in the first place. That means the Kusanagi’s gunners have to target visually, which is hard to do when your opponent is moving a couple of thousand klicks a second. All this is to say that even though the Syldrathi ships are smaller, it’s still gonna be a brawl.
I honestly have no idea who will come out on top.
Another blast rocks the Kusanagi, sending Saedii stumbling into me, and me stumbling into the wall. Half a dozen Terran techs dash past us, and the alarms continue to blare as I haul myself back to my feet.
“Just for future reference,” I ask, steadying myself, “if you’re falling and I catch you, are you going to knee me in the groin again?”
“Be silent, Tyler Jones,” Saedii sighs, staggering forward.
Maybe I should just let you fall right on your arrogant ass, I think to myself.
I heard that, comes her voice inside my head.
“FIRST ENEMY VESSEL DESTROYED,” the PA reports. “CRITICAL DAMAGE TO SECOND ENEMY VESSEL. KUSANAGI HULL BREACH ON LEVEL 4, PORT BATTERIES DISABLED. TECH CREWS REPORT TO LEVEL 6, CORRIDORS 6 BETA AND EPSILON, IMMEDIATELY.”
“The escape pods should be just ahead,” I report.
“I see them,” Saedii replies, charging on through the gloom.
A TDF carrier has escape pods on every level—one-person units, independently powered in the event of catastrophic reactor damage. I can make out a bunch at the T-junction ahead—a few dozen hatchways set into the wall. Their operating mechanisms are basically big red buttons behind panes of glass marked BREAKIN CASE OF EMERGENCY—they’re made to be easy to operate, even in a disaster scenario. If our luck holds, we can b—
The disruptor blast hits Saedii right in her head. The tac helmet she’s wearing absorbs the brunt of the blow, but the shot still sends her spinning like a top.
“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