each other. We the Legion. We the light. Burning bright against the night.
And as we charge toward our deaths, I find myself looking around at the last few members of Aurora Legion Squad 312. And I realize it’s like Tyler says.
Sometimes you just gotta have faith.
“Thirty seconds,” Zila says.
I swallow hard. Heart thumping in my chest.
“You okay?” Finian asks softly.
I look at him beside me, the Weapon looming larger in front of us every second. I can tell he’s scared. I know what he wants to hear. That this is the right thing to do. That I’m sure. That even though I’m only eighteen years old and I still had my whole life ahead of me, it’s okay. Because this is for something bigger than we are. This is for something greater.
But that’s bullshit.
I’m scared to death.
“No,” I tell him.
I reach out and take his hand.
“But I’m glad you’re with me, Fin.”
And then it hits us. A missile. A pulse blast. I’ve got no idea. But we’re rocked hard, the impact like a fully loaded freighter, smashing me back into my chair and forward into my harness. Stars burst in my eyes. The displays in front of me spew sparks and die, alarms roaring, fire suppressors firing, filling the cockpit with chemical fog. I can taste blood in my mouth, my head is ringing, my—
“Scar, are you okay?” Fin shouts, unbuckling his harness.
“I’m … o-okay … ,” I manage.
He kneels at my side, checks me over. “Zila?”
Our pilot straightens behind her flickering, spitting control panels, dragging a thick curtain of black curls out of her face. For the first time, I realize she’s wearing the earrings that were waiting for her in that Dominion Repository vault. The little hawk charms someone left for her, knowing she’s never without her golden hoops.
I wonder if there’s any chance we’re going to live to find out who it was.
“I am alive,” she declares.
“What h-hit us?” I demand.
“A stray railgun round, I believe.” She shakes her head, a stream of blood dripping from the split in her brow as she stabs at her controls. “Perhaps a fast-moving chunk of debris.”
“Damage report?” I cough, looking around the smoking cockpit.
“Engaging secondary guidance systems and auxiliary power. Control should be back online momentarily.” Her fingers dance on her consoles. “But the power coil is critically damaged. Engines are offline.”
The Weapon pulses again, the brightest it’s ever been. The impact hasn’t knocked us too far off course—we’re still staring down the barrel of those massive crystalline lenses. Still right in its firing line. But we’ve got no momentum.
We’re dead in the water.
Looking into the Weapon, I can see a collision of rainbow-colored energy coalescing like the eye of a storm. I know space is a vacuum, that sound doesn’t travel through it, but I swear, I swear I can hear a sound. Building slowly. Rushing past the edge of hearing now. Louder and louder.
And all of us know it.
“It’s going to fire,” Zila says, just a tremor in her voice.
“We’re not going to make it,” I whisper.
“Yes, we are,” Finian growls, dragging on a breather mask.
I raise an eyebrow. “Fin?”
“Engines offline sounds like a job for the best Gearhead in the whole damn Aurora Legion, if you ask me.”
“You can fix it?”
“One way to find out.” He flicks his wrist, and a multi-tool extends from the arm of his exosuit. All the fear I heard in his voice before has totally evaporated, replaced by his razor grin. “And let’s be honest, it’s been way too long since I did something incredibly dashing and heroic.”
“I’m coming with you,” I say, dragging off my harness.
“Be careful,” Zila tells us. “Be quick.”
Finian grabs my hand, slams open the cockpit door.
I drag the breather over my face.
And we run.
41
THREE ONE TWO
Aurora
Kal crumples to the ground, the familiar violet and gold of his mind overwhelmed by the dark, dried blood of his father’s. It’s only as darkness descends over him completely that I realize he was still touching my mind, right up to the last second, the lightest of connections.
One he couldn’t give up.
One I never completely burned away.
Deception and devotion. I sensed them both in him.
Only one is for you, he said.
The Waywalkers scream above me, their voices rising in a discordant wail.
And as his father leaves Kal lying there like he’s nothing, turning back toward me, I remember something else Kal told me.
Love is purpose, be’shmai.
Love is what drives us to great deeds, and greater sacrifices.