Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3)

by G. S. Jennsen

  Could it?

  “When I agreed to take the Stalwart command for the Crux War—pardon me, the 1st Crux War—and leave you and Alex behind, I promised you I would come back to you.

  “I remember how the moonlight streamed through our bedroom window that night. It made your skin glow like that of an angel—I didn’t tell you so then, lest you scowl horribly at me for indulging in whimsy. So instead you stared at me with this heartbreaking honesty. I knew the hard logic of your mind was insisting there were no guarantees in life and I shouldn’t make empty promises to you, but I think for once you chose to put aside the logic and believe me anyway.”

  He took another step forward, and she forgot fleeing was an option. “It took a while longer than I’d planned, and for this I am so, so sorry, but I’m here now to make good on my promise. I will always keep my promises to you, even if I have to crawl through the chaos of more than one universe to do it.”

  His words echoed other, older words he’d said to her, so long ago.

  The universe is not ordered, and it will not become so simply because one wishes it. The universe is chaos made manifest…but even the chaos needs someone willing to stand in the center of it and say ‘enough.’

  Dammit, if anyone had ever existed who could find a way, he would find a way. He was just that hardheaded.

  “Moya vselennaya, there are so many more stars in the heavens than I imagined there were, and I still love you more than all of them.”

  The floor fell out from underneath her, and she landed on her knees. Her face was wet, she thought. She couldn’t breathe, again. This was why the bridge was empty, wasn’t it?

  She blinked through blurred vision that refused to clear. “…David?”

  He dropped to his knees in front of her, and his palms pressed gently against her cheeks. His palms—she’d never forgotten how they felt. His eyes shone liquid silver, like the night when she’d chosen to believe in impossible promises.

  “Hi, Miri.”

  REQUIEM

  AURORA RESONANT BOOK THREE

  * * *

  BACK COVER BLURB

  The end of the world began with a library query…how will it conclude?

  What began as a chance discovery of an anomalous signal is now a multiverse war between humanity and its genetic ancestors over who controls the levers of life and death. Over who decides what life is and whether it will be allowed to exist. For the ruling Anaden Directorate, victory means immortality. For humanity, defeat means extinction.

  On the heels of a breakthrough in wormhole technology, AEGIS and the anarchs enjoy the upper hand in the war. But their escalation pushes the Directorate to the brink, and now it will stop at nothing to destroy its enemy.

  “Dangerous we can do. Nearly impossible we can do. All we need is the tiniest odds of success.”

  The Directorate has perfected the art of conquest through obliteration. But humanity has advantages the Anadens do not. They are led by a woman who’s made a career of meeting the devil at the crossroads and sending him home in defeat. Caleb Marano wields a power as ancient as the universe itself. Alex Solovy manipulates the fabric of space-time at her whim. Unlike the Directorate, they fight for something greater than themselves. And now, they have one more Solovy on the team.

  In the thrilling finale of Aurora Rhapsody, events rush headlong toward an explosive conclusion that will decide the fate of civilizations, and only the victor is making it out the other side.

  CONTENTS

  PART I

  AS YOU (NEVER) WERE

  PART II

  ANGELS & MONSTERS

  PART III

  THE HARSH LIGHT OF NIGHT

  PART IV

  SWORDS & SHIELDS

  PART V

  SOULS AFIRE

  PART VI

  WEIGHT OF THE WORLDS

  PART VII

  STARDUST

  CODA

  EVER ON & ON

  AMARANTHE

  YEAR 6143

  12TH EPOCH PROPER

  PART I:

  AS YOU (NEVER) WERE

  “We have it in our power to begin the world over again.”

  — Thomas Paine

  1

  AFS STALWART II

  MILKY WAY SECTOR 17

  AMARANTHE

  * * *

  “THE UNIVERSE MAY BE looking out for you and your cause, but if you truly expect to win you really ought to pitch in and give it a boost.”

  Miriam stopped mid-motion, leaving two of the four planned report screens unopened. “You’re questioning my war strategy?”

  “No. The destruction of the Machimis Dyson rings was ballsy, and it was only the latest in a series of savvy moves. But if you want to take full advantage of the gains it bought you by keeping the Machim off-balance and reeling, you need to be using every tool at your disposal right now, often and simultaneously. The most brilliant strategy is worthless without tactical maneuvers implementing it at all times, and you can’t win a war when half your fleet sits idling in the void.”

  Calmly, as if this were a regular and ordinary conversation, Miriam took a sip of her tea and considered her response.

  First thing this morning, he—David—had asked her to brief him on the current state of the war. He’d said he wanted to better understand what she faced. The events of the day before—the military events—made it an appropriate time to review where the venture stood in any case, so she’d agreed, which was how the two of them found themselves in the main conference room on the Stalwart II. Alone, which was about to be a good thing.

  Miriam rested her forehead on the mirror of the lavatory in her quarters, her jaw clenched tight to render her sobs all but silent. Her shoulders racked nonetheless, thudding against the mirror in sync with her ragged breaths.

  Were they sobs of rapturous joy—a bubbling up of elation at lost love impossibly found again?

  Or were they sobs of long-suppressed sorrow forcing their way into the world only now, once their cause had been erased—a defiant proclamation that the sorrow could not be erased from her soul?

  Or of terror at what the next minutes and hours may hold—a herald for emotions over which she feared she would not be able to keep control?

  After setting the cup of tea down on the table beside her, she resumed opening the remainder of the briefing materials. “The greatest advantage the Machim enjoy, and it is a significant one, is numbers. We are vastly outnumbered in every engagement. If I send even smaller formations to engage the enemy, they will begin to lose.”

  David moved along the length of the table with the intensity of a man who’d been at rest for too long. “But you’ve forced them to spread their ships thin as well, yes? They’re now having to guard hundreds, possibly thousands of gateways and fabrication facilities, stations and planets. You’ve made it difficult if not impossible for them to send their full strength against you in any one clash. It’s an excellent strategy, but now you’ve got to exploit it.”

  “I assure you, I intend to push our enemy until it breaks. But I won’t act blindly or recklessly.”

  She forced the sobs to a premature halt with a deep, portentous breath. She must pull herself together. Then she must walk out of the lavatory and face a future she’d never expected. She must face this man and all he represented.

  Didn’t she want to face him? To touch him, feel him? Wasn’t this the realization of the one dream she’d never allowed herself to dream?

  Of course it was. She dared to hope it was. But as she hadn’t allowed herself to dream it, so she hadn’t allowed herself to prepare for it.

  Now she stood here on the precipice of she knew not what with no plan, no war map, no strategy, no safety net, no contingencies to fall back on. No idea what might happen next.

  “Certainly not, when you never have. But you’re micromanaging, and it’s in danger of harming your cause.”

  The muscles in her jaw twitched. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve got talented
people serving under you. How many admirals are here in Amaranthe? I promise you, they’re capable of leading their own missions. The brigadiers, too.” He smirked. “I’ve even heard tale of the odd commander being trusted to lead missions from time to time. Tiny missions.”

  “And getting themselves killed doing so?”

  His energetic movements halted, and an odd look came over his features. Always so expressive, then and now. “I didn’t start out leading that mission—I was merely the last man standing. Until I wasn’t.”

  His chin dropped to his chest. “The Alliance screwed itself over in the 1st Crux War by sending the minimum required forces to any encounter while leaving a million ships to guard Earth. They played it too safe, and it became the most dangerous strategy they could follow. But this isn’t that war and you shouldn’t fear making their mistakes. You’re pushing the enemy hard, getting in their personal space, taking them by surprise and knocking them off-kilter. All I’m saying is, don’t pull up a fraction short of the goal line. If you want to win, you’ve got to see it all the way through.”

  “I fully intend to see it through. But I am outnumbered ten to one. I’m sorry if you don’t grasp the import of those numbers, but I have to recognize reality and exercise the discretion it demands.”

  She drew back from the mirror to stand up straight, then quickly splashed water on her face and wiped it dry. When she lowered the towel and dropped it on the counter, the mirror revealed a hard, closed visage in its reflection.

  Was this truly how she wanted to meet the moments to come? Her emotional armor had long served as her ally, but now she had to let it go. Armor had no role to play tonight. So she closed her eyes, exhaled and willed her countenance to soften.

  She scrutinized the mirror’s contents again. Better, but the Commandant still reflected back at her. Her hands paused half-raised in the air—then she brought them the rest of the way up and undid the knot holding her hair primly in place.

  Burgundy locks tumbled free to her shoulders. She ran fingers through them until they formed gentle waves to frame her face and fall across her collarbone. Next, she removed her uniform jacket and hung it on the hook by the door. The plain navy shirt she wore underneath bore wrinkles from the day’s activities, but it would have to suffice.

  She swallowed hard, notched her chin up and opened the door.

  “Okay. You don’t have enough ships. Reality accepted. What about the Kats? Have you used their armada since the initial battle at their Provision Network Gateway?”

  She pretended to study the information displayed on one of the screens; it had updated overnight and should now hold new insights. “Circumstances haven’t presented themselves where it was appropriate for me to do so.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means the Kats make everyone uncomfortable. Eighty-three percent of the servicepeople here saw action in the Metigen War. They watched identical vessels cut down civilians in the streets on their way to destroying entire colonies, and they continue to have nightmares from it.”

  “But the Kats are our allies now and—”

  She whirled on him as frustration finally boiled over. “You weren’t there.”

  He countered her frustration with vexation. “I’ve seen the horrors of war.”

  “Not these horrors. I’m telling you, it’s a problem.”

  He rubbed at his jaw. “All right…do you believe the Kats will betray you?”

  “No. This was their fight long before it was ours.”

  “Then send them on missions alone. They nearly wiped out the entire military strength of humanity, so I suspect they can hold their own in an engagement against a smattering of Machim forces. Send them off to do righteous work in service of the cause out of sight of your crews.”

  “The Kats are the fastidious sort, which complements their staggering arrogance. Would you care to explain their role to them and issue them their orders?”

  He sat perched on the foot of the bed, directly across from the lavatory door and from her. He’d been fidgeting when she walked out, though he’d hurriedly squelched it. Still, his wasn’t a relaxed pose; could he be as nervous as she?

  “By the heavens, you are a beautiful woman.”

  Her heart trembled unbidden. “Flattery is not the critical path forward.”

  “I know. But I can’t help it if you take my breath away.”

  “That’s—”

  “More flattery, yes. Deflect all you like. It doesn’t alter what I see. Feel. Believe.”

  In a few short seconds, with a scant few words, he had utterly disarmed her then swept aside her defenses. Only one person had ever been capable of stripping her naked in such an adroit manner.

  He held up his hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. “You win. I apologize—I’m overstepping, badly. I was good in a firefight, but I’ve never had to command over 60,000 ships or direct an entire war. I know the big-picture view looks a lot different from the one in the trenches, and you’ve done a magnificent job here. You have.”

  He gave her a wry grimace. “I want so badly to help you—with everything. I want to do…everything. Right now. To prove my worth, to make up for lost time, to satisfy a long list of reasons that are so obvious they’re cliché.”

  She stared at him until his brow furrowed in puzzlement.

  “What is it? Is my face melting? Because I know where to get a refund….”

  “I think I’d forgotten this about you. How impatient you could be, how driven to action. How you’d always be rushing off headlong toward a goal while everyone else was struggling to clear the starting gate.”

  “Well, not always.”

  She allowed herself to laugh. “Of course not. You’re correct, however. The view from the top is different, and there are factors you haven’t taken into account. But, since you bring it up, it so happens that I have already tasked the Kats with their own missions. As of four hours ago, their superdreadnoughts are guarding several civilian facilities we believe the Directorate is likely to target and the anarchs have a vested interest in seeing protected. In addition, segments of our fleet will embark on concurrent missions as soon as additional Caeles Prisms are assembled, which is happening today.”

  His expression flickered, exposing a hint of unease. “You let me rant—you let me challenge your decisions—when you could have told me your plans as soon as the topic arose. Why?” His posture wilted. “It was a test. And I failed it, didn’t I?”

  “No…I don’t know. It wasn’t that kind of test. I’m just trying to figure out….”

  “What to do with me?”

  “I suspect you’ll do with yourself whatever you damn well please. I guess I’m trying to figure out how much trouble that’s going to cause for me.”

  He gazed at her without a trace of acrimony. “I do remember this about you. Honesty. Brutal, stark honesty, unvarnished by niceties. I acknowledge your concerns, but I don’t want to cause you trouble. I want to help you.”

  “I believe you do. So…I’ll simply ask you to pause periodically and give thought to whether our opinions as to the type of help I need coincide.” She flashed him a quick smile. “You’ve raised several worthwhile points deserving of serious consideration. It’s possible I’ve gotten spooked by some of the losses we’ve taken, and I can’t let caution morph into paralysis. I don’t act unilaterally unless urgency demands it, but I’ll bring up your ideas at the AEGIS Council meeting later this morning.”

  His eyes widened. “Gavno. There are other people involved in fighting this war—I positively forgot about them. What are we going to tell everyone?”

  Was he teasing her? His delivery was as flawless as it had ever been. She studied him, noting how the playful glint in his eyes contrasted with the earnest set of his brow, and decided he was being flippant, but it hid genuine trepidation. If only his irreverent humor could see them through the Council meeting unscathed.

  She reached out and covered his hand with hers, tou
ching him for the first time since they’d entered the conference room. Warmth rushed from his skin straight to her chest, and she wondered when she might stop being surprised he was real. “The only thing we can tell them and the one thing they deserve: the truth.”

  She crossed the remaining space between them in three rapid steps and knelt in front of him. His hands were draped atop his knees, and her left hand moved to hesitate uncertainly above his right. She willed it lower until it covered his hand, and the feel of his bare skin beneath hers shook her to the core.

  His mouth opened to speak more flattery and shatter her last threads of composure, but she held up her other hand to cut him off. “I need to tell you something.”

  Yet her lips pursed in a panicked last-ditch attempt to keep the words unspoken; she forced them apart. “One of the last things you ever said to me was that I was the strong one in our relationship—and you were right. So when you died, I did what you had asked me to do—I bucked up, stiffened my spine and soldiered on alone. For twenty-five years I was strong. I have been so damn strong for so damn long.

  “Now, tonight, I don’t want to be strong any longer. Tonight, you’re here, and I think I…I think I don’t really care if you’re truly David or merely a very, very good copy. Because you’re here, and tonight I am not strong enough to question the rightness of it.”

  He exhaled and brought both hands up to the sides of her face then wound them into her hair, drawing her closer until his lips hovered scant centimeters from hers. “You know what? In this moment, being here, seeing you, touching you…I don’t care either.”