My heart surges, wounded stomach aching as I sit up on the cot. “At the academy? Why didn’t you say so?”
“I just did say so. Why is that of import?”
“My dream,” I breathe, heart racing. “The … vision. It was different this last time. I saw Aurora Academy, shining like a lighthouse in the dark. But I reached out toward it, and it … it exploded right in front of me.”
I see it again, a sudden flash of pain in my mind, that image of the academy blown apart, the galaxy’s last hope extinguished with it.
… fix this, Tyler …
I shake my head, my pulse pounding. “If the heads of the Galactic Caucus are all in the same place and the Ra’haam strikes it …”
“They are fools to gather so.” Saedii scowls, considering. “But if you believe the academy is under threat … perhaps I could allow you access to our communications array. You could send them warning.”
“You think that’s a transmission Legion comms is going to answer?” I scoff. “Let alone believe? The GIA framed me as a terrorist, Saedii. A mass murderer. A traitor to the Legion and his own people. And the transmission will be coming from an Unbroken ship.”
“Surely you have contacts within the Legion who still hold you in faith? What of the ones who left you those gifts on Emerald City?”
“Admiral Adams and Battle Leader de Stoy,” I nod, mind racing. “They know something. But I’ve got no way to contact them direct. If I was aboard Aurora Station, I could send a message to Adams on the academy network. But with something this important, I can’t just fling a warning out into the dark and hope some grunt on academy comms kicks it up the chain.”
I shake my head, more certain with every breath.
“You have to take me there,” I declare.
Saedii’s eyes are sharp as glass. “Have to is not a phrase to be spoken to Templars, Terran.”
“If the Ra’haam destroys the Caucus, it’ll throw the galaxy into chaos! And every day spent picking up the pieces is another the Ra’haam has to grow! Saedii, we have to stop—”
“There are those words again.”
“Maker, will you listen to me?” I shove her boots off my thighs, rising off the cot. “We might be the only ones alive with a clue what’s happening here!”
“I have larger concerns than—”
“Larger concerns?” I shout. “The whole galaxy is at stake! We know the truth! We have a duty to stop this thing!”
“Do not dare preach to me of duty, Tyler Jones!” she snarls, rising up to meet me. “You know nothing of its weight! Our Archon is vanished into the Void without a trace! A dozen warlords of the Unbroken are poised to seize control of this cabal, and I am the only one who might keep us from shattering to pieces. The future of my people teeters on the edge of a blade! And you whine I should divert course into enemy space to save a pack of shan’vii idiotic enough to risk gathering to talk at a time like this?”
“They’re trying to broker peace!” I shout. “The Caucus doesn’t know the Ra’haam is out there!”
“Foolish and blind, then.”
“Saedii, you can’t just let them—”
“Do not tell me what I cannot do!” she roars, face centimeters from mine. “I am a Templar of the Unbroken! Blooded in a hundred battles! Daughter of the Starslayer! I do what I wish, I go where I please, and I take what I want!”
She stands there glowering at me, teeth bared in a snarl, out of breath. Her eyes are sharp as the blade in her hand, and she’s pressed against me so close I can feel her heart thumping under her skin. Her mind is bleeding into mine again, her thoughts soaking me through.
She’s rage. She’s fire. Pushing like a knife into my chest.
I do what I wish.
I go where I please.
I take what I want.
And I see it then. As her eyes drift from mine, down to my lips and back up again.
Maker’s breath, she wants me.
We crash together, so hard the split in my lip opens again. She breathes into my lungs and my fingers weave into her hair, and the thought of how stupid this is is drowned out by the feel of her in my arms as I lift her off the ground.
She cinches her legs tight around my waist, gasping as we collide with the wall, her fingernails drawing lines of fire across my bare back as my hands squeeze her tight, pushing her hard against the metal. Stupid as this feels, crazy as it is …
The whole galaxy might be at war tomorrow.
We might all be dead.
Live for tonight. Tomorrow we die.
Her mind is entwined with mine, drenching me with her want and redoubling my own. It’s hard to breathe. To think. I’ve never felt anything like this, never needed anything so desperately, but this is insane, this is …
“Saedii … ,” I gasp, twisting my head away.
Stop speaking, Tyler Jones, comes her voice in my head. There are better things for you to be doing with your mouth.
Yeah, okay.
Hard to argue with that.
Tyler Jones: 2
Saedii Gilwraeth: 2
• • • • •
“Well, that was … intense.”
We’re lying on the floor of the med bay, gasping for breath, a thin silver sheet of insulation thrown over our bodies. The room is in chaos around us, furniture overturned, glass shattered on the floor. Saedii is pressed against me, long black braids draped over her face, black paint smeared across her mouth. We’re both slippery with sweat, salt stinging in the welts she scratched across my back.
“I think I might need more stitches,” I wince.
She doesn’t reply, face pressed into my neck, heart thumping against my ribs. Her breathing is slowing, but otherwise, she’s completely motionless. Completely silent.
“I mean, I’m not complaining,” I say, trying to elicit a laugh. “But maybe we should have a liter of O negative on standby for next time?”
Again, she doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Her thoughts are still in mine, leaking through like ink spilled across paper, but where a moment ago we were so entwined we could’ve almost been one person, now she’s slowly withdrawing. Her feelings cooling just like the sweat on our skin.
It’s like someone turned off the sun.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Without warning, she rolls off me and sits up. Her head moves in the gloom, eyes sweeping the chaos, and rising to her feet, smooth, graceful, she hunts among the debris for the pieces of her discarded uniform.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing is wrong,” she replies.
“Well … where are you going?”
“Back to the bridge.”
I blink. “Just like that?”
She recovers her briefs from atop the supply cupboard where I hurled them, drags them back on. “You were expecting something else?”
“Well …” I sit up, silver sheet crumpling around my waist. “I mean, I’m not sure how Syldrathi work, but Terrans usually, y’know … talk afterward.”
“And what should we talk about, Tyler Jones?”
“… Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” She pulls on her bra. “You were perfectly adequate.” I cock one eyebrow. My scarred one, just for added effect. “Lady, I was in your mind through that whole thing. If that’s what you call adequate, Maker knows what—”