Aftermath by Ann Aguirre Read Free Book Online Page A

Morgut vessels remained, I broke from the battle to head the extraction team.”
    “So there are still a few up there?” Hit finally sits down herself.
    “Scout ships mostly, but I did not wish to risk your safety further.”
    Typical Vel. He’s put in charge of the entire Ithtorian fleet, but when push comes to shove, he’s on the ground looking for me. Nobody ever had a better friend.
    A third Ithtorian—this one almost as tall as Vel, honor marks on his carapace—comes down the hall from the cockpit. He holds his claws in what I recognize as a salute. “We have the all clear, General.”
    “Then take us up.”
    “What’s going on?” Hit asks.
    Ah. I forget not everyone understands Ithtorian.
    “We can fly now,” I tell her.
    Hit straps in. Even though we’re not jumping, it’s never a bad idea to refrain from splitting your head on a bulkhead thanks to turbulence. The two crewmen secure themselves opposite us, and Vel takes his place next to me, smoothly fastening his harness. Maybe it’s because he’s lived so long, but he exudes the most reassuring aura of unflappable calm.
    “I know you have bad news,” I say softly. “I’m ready for it.”
    But that’s not true. One is never ready. You just lie and say you are and hope you can take the hit on the chin without going down.
    “Is Dina all right?” Hit asks, a catch in her voice.
    The ship rumbles, and I feel the pilot working with the thrusters to bring us off the ground. As such liftoffs go, it’s fairly smooth, unlike the chaos exploding inside me. Not Dina, I tell myself. Hit takes my hand in a grip that hurts as we wait to hear the best news . . . or the worst.
    “She is well enough,” Vel answers. “A few burns.”
    Thank Mary.
    He continues, “It would be most efficient if I simply break the news. Doctors Dasad and Solaith are missing.”
    I swallow hard. “They’re not, actually. We saw them die.”

CHAPTER 5
    Vel asks a number of questions about what we saw. I out- line the circumstances, and he inclines his head, making some notes on his handheld. “I will file the report, then.”
    So that’s it. Official news. I promised Mac on Perlas that I would look out for Evie—that I was saving her by taking her away. Hurt jabs my stomach in shrapnel shards, splinters of failure. Mary, he’ll want to shoot me when he hears, but he’ll have to get in line.
    The ship goes up and up while Vel tells us of other losses—Torrance, the scout, and Drake, the medic. So many clansmen followed March into the stars to die, but I didn’t know them well. Their losses feel different; I have some distance from them. No losses hit so close to home as the two scientists.
    They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don’t deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true; we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it’s not the same as a proper good-bye.
    “How many survivors down there?” Hit asks.
    “Less than thirty percent,” he answers. “It took us too long to destroy their flagship.”
    That would be the enormous ship we saw as we came back, leading the Morgut vanguard. Right now, I should feel elated and grateful, but the losses are just too profound; this doesn’t feel like victory. I can only summon a weary numbness. I try to tell myself that it worked out for the best, but I’m not a military officer at heart. No amount of innocent blood spilled feels acceptable.
    “Thank you for coming for us.”
    “I would leave it to no one else,” Vel says.
    March is still fighting, I have no doubt, still chasing the stragglers and obliterating the last of the scout ships. He won’t sleep until they’re all erased from this part of the galaxy; that’s his particular curse. He can’t be the first to lay his weapons down, and he doesn’t know how to walk away from a fight.
    Hit sits back and closes her eyes, head tilted