Lunara: Parker and the Protector

Part I

Chapter 1

Parker McCloud understood why Atalo Grove’s voice hesitated as he surveyed the dilemma in front of him. Everything Parker had asked Atalo to do, he did without questioning any of the information presented to him.

For more than a year and a half, Parker had commanded—unbeknownst to the Martian Supremacy Authority (MSA)—the various Alliance cells throughout the solar system. He and Captain Nathan Terry were the unspoken leaders while Parker’s wife languished in a hollow position as commander of Aethpis colony. The two men had overseen the last remnants of a dying rebellion.

Jupiter hung on the viewscreen with its ominous presence. The famed yellow, orange, and white streaks stretched across the planet. The storms twirled, giving life to the giant ball. Quickly, Parker’s gaze caught the more famous sight, the stormy eye of the supergiant searching for any cosmic bodies to seize. Even at this distance, the gravitation alerts were chirping warnings of impending disaster. Although Parker had prepared his splinter fleet with extra thrusters to combat the immense gravity around the planet, his stomach still fluttered at the thought of compressing to the size of a grain of sand if Jupiter pulled them into the atmosphere.

Parker keyed to his proximity radar screen. His fleet consisted of five Asterfighters and one heavy fighter. The heavy fighter had served him well. The twin gun turrets mounted on the top of the ship’s sleek hull were capable of checking any MSA fighter before it came too close. He felt confident within it.

Parker swiveled his chair toward an awaiting Atalo Grove only feet away, who was manning the sensor controls of the Iron Chunk.

The freighter is leaving the moon Ganymede. Grove keyed the coordinates into the navigational computer. It’s heading away from us, northern hemisphere.

Parker adjusted their course to match the freighter’s course. Their target was a huge bulk freighter, carrying fifty million cubic meters of ice to Mars. This shipment was one in a long line of freighters his squadron had stopped in the last six months, and as Mars dried up, so did the MSA’s grip on the planet. He squinted; its tiny lights were barely visible. Jupiter’s glow washed out most of the incidental reflections.

After he had checked the freighter’s telemetry, a concern tingled within him. Mostly, he was worried about the direct flight path to the cratered moon Callista. Likely, the freighter was headed to Callista to slingshot around the moon, a maneuver to gain more speed in an attempt to escape the gravitational forces of Jupiter. At least, that is what he would have done.

By nature, freighter captains were conservative, unwilling to risk the cargo unless necessity warranted it. Heading straight out on thrusters seemed a more obvious and safe course. So, Parker was left where he started. Why was the freighter heading toward the far side of Callista?

He scrolled through his infrared screen, checking for any inference around Callista. Nothing was apparent.

Alliance One, this is Red Dust, pilot James Hunton radioed. Parker didn’t know why he had chosen the call sign of Red Dust for Hunton. It just fit Hunton’s flying style. Hunton disappeared into the surroundings when the simulator machines thought they had him. Like dust blowing along the Martian terrain, he always escaped. We should be engaging. The freighter is at its slowest—

And we are at our fastest cruising speed with Jupiter’s gravity pulling us toward it instead of against it, said Parker—or Alliance One for the mission, interrupting the pilot’s unwanted concerns. I understand.

I have to agree with Red Dust, pilot Allison Hargrowth—Quartz—radioed back. We can sting that freighter into Callista with a volley into its port side.

Quartz, hold your positioning and your tongue, Parker replied. Even though they were a rogue Alliance squadron, they still needed discipline. He didn’t want his pilots doubting his efforts, especially in mid mission.

Yet…

Red Dust and Quartz had a point. There was no better time to strike against them than now, when it was escaping the gravity of Jupiter and Parker’s fleet propelled toward it. Still, Parker couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The freighter, using Callista as a slingshot, didn’t seem to care about their presence. Europa station—and its security fleet—was on the other side of Jupiter, and leaving Jupiter’s orbit in the quickest way possible should be priority one.

Callista…what was on Callista? he muttered.

Grove answered with the obvious. Water miners.

Really nothing, Parker muttered. It is barely surveyed. No stations are built on it, not with the instability of the surface ice. He leaned back in his chair, searching his mind for a reason to be cautious. He couldn’t find one. Quartz, Red Dust, you are the most eager, you take lead position on this one, he radioed to the squad. Grey Cloud and Devastator will be flanking us. And Olympus, you’re defensive rear.

Affirmative, Quartz and Red Dust said in unison.

Aim for the portside engine mount. Parker continued to stare at Callista. I want it to jerk into Callista.

Parker steered the heavy cruiser—which he had nicknamed Iron Chunk for its unspectacular agility but surprisingly fortified hull—toward the freighter.

Activating attack plasma shielding, Grove said, as the fizzle of the plasma shields trickled over the hull. Asterfighters are powered up as well. We are ready for the attack.

Excellent, Parker replied, not really hearing what Grove had said. Repeatedly, he glanced at Callista, which kept reminding him of something. A sense of déjà vu weaved through his nerves…

Over the last two years, Parker had been involved in many skirmishes. His squadron had always come out on top, except for their failed pirating of a freighter debarking from Lunara. An ill-advised plan had been their failure. He hadn’t anticipated the dozen extra fighters assigned to the cargo transfer. But that wasn’t happening here. This was Jupiter, seven times the distance from Mars that Lunara was, and too remote of an outpost for a large escort.

Still, this was familiar.

His squadron streaked toward the freighter.

Suddenly, the freighter dove toward Callista. Someone spotted it.

A cool tingle swept across Parker’s skin. He licked his dry lips. This was it. Battle time.

Quartz and Red Dust splashed their sonic bullets across the port engine mount of the freighter. Its plasma shielding flickered with each subsequent blow.

In his peripheral vision, Grey Cloud and Devastator made sure they didn’t arc too close or too far away from their flanking patterns. Parker needed them to maintain the course for the freighter. If they allowed it to twist away, it would gain an advantage on its way out of the Jovian system.

An alert blatted in his ear. The freighter’s turret guns were active, tracking Quartz and Red Dust as they swept across its hull.

Fire our missiles! Parker shouted to Grove. He banked the Iron Chunk toward the evading freighter and fired a salvo of missiles. They streaked away with a brilliant blue blaze.

Moments later, the missiles collided with the plasma shielding, shaking the freighter mightily but causing no serious damage.

Parker fretted. Definitely, the MSA had reinforced the plasma shielding. How did they know?

The freighter chugged along toward Callista, still determined to reach the cratered moon and avoiding escape to the emptiness of space, where it could engage its quickdrives. The Asterfighters buzzed around the freighter, weakening the plasma shield with each successive pass.

Parker adjusted his viewscreen along their flight path. Where are you heading to? he muttered. The viewscreen displayed only the cratered moon. Then he remembered.

Grey Cloud, get away from Callista, he radioed. Get away now.

I have to keep the freighter from sling shooting. I’m maintaining course, Mark Terratak—Grey Cloud—replied.

Get out now. Everyone else circle back toward Olympus and the rally point. Let the freighter go.

Alliance One, Quartz radioed back. This freighter can’t go…there is no reason…

Jinx to that! he shouted. An MSA squadron rests inside the Callista craters. The freighter is drawing you right into it.

I don’t read anything. No weapons fire is coming from Callista.

The magnetic interference around Jupiter is masking their presence. They’re there, Parker replied.

How—

I just know. Parker fired the repulse engines on the Iron Chunk. The hull groaned in protest as the retro thrusters fought the heavy cruiser. After a long thrust, the Iron Chunk settled to a dead stop.

Olympus positioned his Asterfighter beside him. Parker watched helplessly as Quartz and Red Dust kept sweeping across the freighter’s hull. Grey Cloud continued to speed toward Callista. All three of them are doomed, he thought.

Alliance One, we need to help them, Olympus radioed, his deep voice a pitch higher, apprehension registering in his tone. They can’t take the freighter down without your bombs.

I told them to regroup back here, Parker replied. They are disobeying my order.

Why are we falling back? There is no sign of— Olympus was cut off.

A flash of light lit the Iron Chunk’s cabin. It took a few moments for Parker’s eyes to adjust. But when they finally did—

Jinx to him, he was right. In the distance, the MSA squadron had taken Grey Cloud out with a single salvo of missiles.

MSA trap! Quartz cried. Red Dust, watch your flank. They are coming hard.

I see ’em, Red Dust replied, his voice strained. He snap-rolled his fighter in a violent turn away from Callista toward the rally point, aligning himself with Quartz’s trajectory. But it was too late for either of them to escape. The MSA advanced fighters were too fast for them; they cut off their escape window, and Red Dust and Quartz adjusted back to Callista, into the salvo of sonic bullets that awaited them. They dove downward, avoiding the salvo and leaving themselves naked to the incoming MSA fighters.

Another flash of light came from the starboard side this time. Devastator was gone, too. They must have spotted him early, tracking him with a smaller missile hidden in Jupiter’s sensor glare. Parker fretted.

Olympus, help Quartz. We’ll clear a path for Red Dust, Parker said, accelerating the Iron Chunk toward the battle. He wasn’t happy. Two members of his squadron were dead, and they had died disobeying his order.

By the time the Iron Chunk reached the fray, six MSA fighters had twisted their way around Quartz and Grey Cloud. The Asterfighter’s agility had kept them alive for this long. But not much longer. Once the MSA fighters realized no more Alliance help was in the area, they would break off from the fortified freighter and come toward their location. Advantage MSA.

An MSA fighter swooped down, coming fast upon Red Dust’s aft. Parker blasted his turret gun at its nose. The sonic bullet sprayed across the plasma shielding and sent it diving for cover behind the two MSA fighters looping around and heading straight at the Iron Chunk. Parker jerked the control stick. The force of the turn pressed him into his seat and sent the Iron Chunk knifing between the MSA fighters, scaring them into a looping turn away from him.

Nice of you to rejoin us, Red Dust radioed dryly, but it was a little too sarcastic for Parker’s irritated state.

Shut up and try to get back to our rally point, he radioed. Thanks to you and Quartz, we can only survive. The freighter has escaped.

Sitting back at the rally point wouldn’t have downed it faster than what we did, Red Dust radioed back.

The cabin rattled violently. Parker’s hands shook uncontrollably. He punched with some effort the course corrections. The Iron Chunk swung around and spit bullets across the MSA-controlled space.

Devastator and Grey Cloud would be alive! Parker shouldn’t have said it. It was a betrayal of both Quartz and Red Dust, but he was so damned irritated. They had no right to be upset with him. He ordered them to safety.

And maybe…just maybe, they could reverse this debacle by hitting the freighter farther from Callista, where they had the tactical advantage. Instead, Olympus and the Iron Chunk had to bail them out.

Understood, Red Dust radioed somberly. Apparently, Parker’s words stuck to the young man.

Parker yanked his control stick toward the rallying point. The MSA fighters countered with their own flanking maneuver from the port side. He expected the basic tactical move and counteracted with his own corkscrewing drop out of their line of sight. Red Dust anticipated the ploy and followed him in the angled descent away from the battle zone.

A jolt shook Parker. His teeth ached and his head swam. Impact alerts chirped in his ear, sobering his mind. He quieted them with his left hand and called up the assessment screen with his right.

The report scrolled across the screen: Single missile impact. Port side. Plasma shield powered down: 50%.

Another impact shook the cabin, slighter this time but not any less frightening. He yanked the control stick back toward Red Dust’s Asterfighter, hoping it provided some protection.

Red Dust got the idea. He slowed, slid across the Iron Chunk’s aft, and fired countless sonic bullets at the MSA fighter, sending it spiraling toward Jupiter.

Parker let out a sigh. Breathing room had never meant so much to him. He accelerated the Iron Chunk, pulling power from the plasma shields, and streaked toward the rally point.

The MSA fighters, worrying about the freighter once again, fled back to Callista.

With some effort, Parker relaxed his death grip on the controls and checked his radar. Quartz and Olympus had survived, too. They were already several kilometers ahead of their location.

Squad engage quickdrives, he radioed to them. We’ll meet back at Alliance Alpha. Radio silence activated.

Alliance Alpha? Grove said.

It is in the computer. He flicked his finger at Atalo in annoyance. I sent the destination to the Asterfighters.

I know, sir, Atalo said somberly. I just don’t understand—

How I knew they were coming?

Yes—

They used that same trick with their spy scouts when the Alliance controlled Lunara. I didn’t recognize it until it was too late.

It was many battles ago.

Even still, Atalo. Grey Cloud and Devastator don’t want an excuse.

You ordered them to come back. It was their fault.

Tell that to the rest of the squadron.

They understand now. I guarantee it.

I’m not so sure. Parker shrugged his shoulders as the looming emptiness of space between him and the asteroid belt irked his nerves. I’ll be in my quarters.

When should I wake you, sir?

Fifteen days.

Chapter 2

Stealthily, stepping in silence, fugitive Captain Eamonn Dalton crept along the corridors of Lunara Mining Colony amid the darkness of the Earth’s evening shadow.

The gray-clouded sphere, looming depressingly over the colony, a subtle reminder of what had been, drifted silently through the center of the solar system between the planets of Venus and humanity’s home, Mars.

Kneeling along the corridor beside one of many bay windows within Lunara colony, Eamonn forced his gaze to the Earth in the distance. Caught by his eye, and showing in the limited reflection of the window, the toll of the last two years weighed on his face. The long lines around his eyes deepened, and the spirit within sagged, dropping further than it had before it began, before Lunara was invaded and before he killed Chancellor Damon Arwell.

The new supreme chancellor, Gwen Arwell, had been unrelenting in her pursuit. He had been from Mars to Jupiter to Saturn station, and now he was on Lunara, his final hope for safety from the MSA predators and bounty hunters.

He was tired of running. Now he wanted to leave the Martian Supremacy Authority alone and no longer fight for the Martian Alliance. His single desire was to retire to an algae farm and live his days without politics and the death sentence.

But the MSA hunting showed no signs of giving up. Rather, members of the MSA had been increasing their pressure on him. He had no choice but to run for his freedom and his life. No matter how scared and exhausted he was.

He lowered his hand along his side and felt the cool smooth metal of his sonic pistol. This had been a permanent accessory to his attire since his standoff with Balo Smythe on Saturn station, which had ended in another death at his hands, something that over the last two years had become too commonplace, a forced-upon regret he wanted to put behind him. He needed time to forgive himself for his crimes against his fellow man, but how could he with so much to regret?

Pssst, Shannon Buckley whispered toward him.

He looked toward her. He hated her. He had spent the better part of the Alliance/MSA war inside a detention center because of her. Unfortunately, his duty called out to him, and he had to let her follow him. She was involved in the chancellor’s assassination, and he had an obligation to keep everyone from that mission safe from Gwen’s vengeance. He blamed Jan for his overwhelming sense of honor. The memory of her sacrifice would ravage his body with guilt if he left Shannon to fend for herself.

He felt another tug.

What? he snapped at her.

She pressed herself against the wall. Someone is coming.

He spun his head around. The tramping boots of two MSA officers resounded down the corridor.

MSA boots on Lunara, he muttered. The blasphemy.

He slid close to Shannon and embraced her, moving his lips close to hers. As he kissed her with a forced passion, he repressed the urge to pull away.

The boots shuffled past him, the officers whispering words he couldn’t distinguish. A few heartbeats later, they passed down the corridor and out of sight. Eamonn moved away from her. Her lips searched for more. He pushed her against the wall, holding her shoulders.

Ty is a few corridors down, he said. He can help us.

He hurried toward Ty’s apartment, with Shannon just behind him.

Several minutes later, he reached Ty’s door and paused. He wondered if he could trust his old commander anymore. Even though Lunara was under MSA control, Ty was still chief of operations for the colony. Why had Ty become a lackey for the MSA?

He shook his head.

It was only his paranoia talking. Although he had had some interesting conversations with his paranoia over the last two years, it was rarely right. His gut and experiences told him to seek Ty. He always sought Ty’s guidance in the most desperate times. He was beyond desperate now.

He pressed the ringer and waited.

After a few heart-pounding moments, the door snapped open. Ty stood there without saying a word. A mixture of surprise and happiness painted his face, his mouth agape and his eyes softening as if relief had caught his breath.

Are you alone? Eamonn said.

Yes, Ty replied. Come right in. Were you followed?

Eamonn led Shannon in. Someone will catch up with us eventually. But nothing immediate.

The apartment was the same as two years ago, aside from the clean touch of a woman. Jan’s death had no doubt taken a portion of Ty’s will. Heartache withered his face, and for the first time since Eamonn had known him, he carried himself like a man in his midfifties. The formerly spry body of the colony’s chief had gone to fat around his waist.

Eamonn sat down on the couch and threw his worn boots on the table. His body was too exhausted to be a courteous guest.

Ty must have noticed. Yes, sit down. You are safe for now. He directed Shannon to the smaller couch.

How have you been? Eamonn mumbled. His eyes closed.

I’ve been keeping busy, Ty said. It is the only way I know how to survive anymore. I lost everything.

Lunara remains. Eamonn’s voice was a whisper. I don’t even have a home anymore.

There was silence for some time.

Unsure if he had dozed off, Eamonn opened his eyes.

Ty smirked at him.

He smiled back. An unspoken happiness connected them; they had both been able to survive the MSA. Sure, Ty’s sandy-brown, graying hair was a little more tattered and his command suit not quite as crisp as it once had been. But how could Eamonn blame him? His wife had died, and the people who had driven her to her death controlled his colony.

Do you need water? Ty rose to his feet and motioned to the kitchen.

Eamonn nodded. He tongued his dry lips. He had grown so used to the dehydration in his nomadic life, he had forgotten the needless pleasures of a home. Have you spoken with the crew? Any of them?

Ty left the room and oddly let the question dangle for a long minute.

Parker contacts me every few months, Ty called out from the kitchen area. He keeps apologizing for Jan. He feels responsible for her death. He moved into the living area, carrying a tray of tomato cakes and two large cups of water. Help yourself.

Thanks, Eamonn said. He took a long draught and savored the freshness. Do you blame him for her death?

No, we were at war. The only thing I never understood was why she left for Mars. Seth and Chloe couldn’t have convinced her to go unless she already wanted to go. They were just an excuse.

Jan was always a protector of those two, Eamonn said. I doubt she needed any more of an excuse than that.

Maybe so, Ty said, letting the words hang for a moment. Chloe has talked to me regularly. She is doing well in Aethpis colony. She found contentment there.

When I left her, she was angry.

The illness has jaded her. Little hope for Mars remains in her any more, and she longs for Seth’s return.

The last time I saw her, she wanted little to do with him, convinced he had betrayed her. Eamonn fingered his chin. Although the last time, maybe a year and half ago, she was hiding from the MSA. They wanted her.

The treaty stopped the hunt for her, he replied. When Seth joined the MSA, he arranged for her safety. They left her alone.

I’m surprised Hans or Gwen agreed.

I don’t think Hans had much of a choice. Gwen is loyal to Seth. He promised to come back for her. His friendship was apparently enough to get her to stop.

That makes little sense, Eamonn said. The MSA’s guiding principle is the genetically superior society. Chloe is the most powerful mind in the solar system. How does the MSA expect to create that society without her?

Gwen isn’t like her father, Ty replied. She is loyal, even if it goes against her vision.

Gwen is a lot worse, Shannon said. She hasn’t stopped her hunt for us. It is as bad now as it has ever been. The bounty on our head was doubled again only last week.

You killed her father, Ty said. In her place, I would be pretty upset, too.

Our lives were ruined because of her, Shannon replied. If I get the chance, I’ll kill her, too.

Ty shook his head. And then you would arouse the rage of someone who cared for Gwen—Vice Chancellor Samantha Burns, perhaps.

Eamonn let out a long rumbling hum. I suspect Samantha is the root of the wickedness Gwen has shown as chancellor. No forgiveness to her, but I think Samantha’s death is the best medicine for peace. She is pure evil.

Shannon growled under her breath. If they were gone, Mars would be back to normal.

Maybe for you, Ty said. But under the new regime, Mars has never been more prosperous. I doubt the people would welcome another assassination attempt. Through fear and bribery, the MSA has been successful in getting everyone behind it. The MSA’s planetary rhetoric is seductive, and frankly, I find myself believing some of it. It scares me to think this is how humanity was ultimately supposed to be.

I haven’t found any benefit in it, Eamonn said dryly. I suppose it is my entire fault though. I should have listened to … He swallowed and turned away from them. I should have listened to Shannon.

What did I say? she said softly.

Back in the minister’s office…you remember when she was on Lunara…you told us not to go through with it.

The minister presented you with an opportunity to help the Alliance, she said. My warning doesn’t guarantee Mars’s freedom. At least we aren’t at war anymore.

No, we have peace without freedom, and the Principles of Man are no more, Eamonn said. Our Alliance is reduced to fragmented cells of terrorism. I’m cynical. I don’t think our leader leads anymore.

Her face tightened. Minister McCloud is still our voice.

She is the voice without power. Not after she lost the entire planet with her foolish foray into the MSA trap. The Battle of Mars was an embarrassment for the Alliance. We are a joke to the people.

Don’t talk about Sarah that way. She fights for freedom, Shannon said, her voice rising.

She is only worried about Aethpis colony. She hasn’t driven the Alliance with any purpose in a long time.

Shannon stood and said loudly, She is our leader.

Lower your voices, Ty demanded. You’ll trip the voice sweepers.

Shannon shot her glowing green eyes toward Ty. I’ve been a fugitive for two years. I know what I am doing.

You wouldn’t be so confident if you knew Samantha Burns was on Lunara, Ty said, his jaw hardening. By coming here, you are putting me in danger. Show a little respect.

Samantha Burns is here? she said, swallowing the last of her words.

She has come to inspect our progress. She is meeting with Commander Morothe as we speak.

Morothe? Eamonn said, cocking one eye.

The real commander of Lunara colony. My power is limited. The only reason they let me stay was because I know how to run the meteor detection system better than anyone.

Doesn’t mean you have to work for them, Eamonn replied. Too quick for his liking, his remark showed his disdain for the fact that Ty was working for the MSA. Something he was trying to hide from his friend.

I protect the Earth.

Sorry, Eamonn said. "It isn’t my place to question your choices. I expect you to be in no other place. Who is captaining the Protector now?"

Ty grumbled away his distain. Jarret Jolitt. He is a decent man. A little arrogant for my taste, but his crew gets the job done.

Eamonn’s face drooped. An old memory of his crew aboard the Protector flashed into his mind. That joy was two years removed; now, joy was a secluded algae farm on the outskirts of nowhere on Mars. "Not sure if you remember, but he was in line for the captainship when the Protector was open for a captain last time."

Yes, he beat you out, but Martian politics being what they were, you got the job. He’s still bitter about that.

He can be bitter. Life is sometimes about being the best at one thing. There is a lot more to a captain than skill. You have to play the crew correctly, as well as the upper brass. I think I do that well. At least, I did at the time.

You did…do, Ty said. Mars Central and the Aethpisian government demanded it of you.

Shannon leaned toward Ty. Let’s get back to Samantha Burns. She must know we are here. It can’t be a coincidence.

She’s been here for over a week and is scheduled to leave tomorrow.

Interesting, Eamonn said. "Isn’t that when the freighter Solarspot is leaving?"

She is supposed to be around it, couriering ten million tons of metalor, too. The first shipment from the meteor cluster since the war began.

Jinx. Eamonn’s arms flailed in disgust. That was our ticket back to Mars. Now we have no way back.

It is a perfect opportunity for us, Shannon replied. Where better to hide than on the same ship Samantha Burns is on? She will never believe our courage is great enough to be so close to her.

Turning toward her, he pinched his thumb and forefinger into a ring. I don’t have the courage. I’m scared of her.

But—

No, he said, quick and short. He paused until she was quiet and then turned to Ty. This is the first shipment of metalor for two years. How can that be?

Since much of Lunara was damaged during the war, and with the lessening of the meteor cluster entering our solar system, it has taken us this long to restore the facilities, especially when Tower Three’s destruction caused a quake along the surface, ruining the metalor processing plant. It took forever to rebuild. This is our first shipment. Six months of processing.

The MSA must be clamoring for more metalor, Shannon said.

Eamonn let out a long sigh. And security will blanket it.

Jinx. Shannon sat down, let out an exact mimic of his sigh and drooped low in the seat, deflated.

I came here to help find a home to hide on Mars…and someone I can trust, Eamonn said. We’ll need to look for another way out of here.

I don’t have contacts anymore. They withered away when the MSA took control, Ty said. But I do have a job for you. Once you complete it, the right people will be appreciative.

Eamonn waved his hand in disgust. I’m done with jobs. I don’t want to be involved in this war against the MSA. I’ve been defeated. Don’t request something I can’t provide.

You must. The Alliance needs ten million tons of metalor. I know where they’ll route it on Mars. The minister needs to know, and I can’t trust anyone but you.

The door chimed.

Eamonn flinched. Instantly, his survival senses honed to the ready state. He reached for his sonic pistol. Swiftly, decisively, he unclipped it from its holster, ready for a fight. He scanned with his senses. There wasn’t a sound in the room—

Put that away, Ty said.

Eamonn didn’t move.

Take Shannon into my room, Ty said. An escape hatch underneath the bed will take you to the lower levels if trouble comes. But don’t use it unless you have to. You’ll trip the emergency alarms in the security towers.

Eamonn didn’t hesitate. He had learned never to hesitate. Hesitation meant capture. He and Shannon dashed up the spiral staircase and along the short gangway into the bedroom.

After a long, nerve-tensing, muffled exchange downstairs, Ty allowed his guests to enter the apartment.

Eamonn pressed his ear against the cracked door.

Shannon was already at the bed. Carefully, with stealthy quietness, she lifted the mattress off its frame and found the escape hatch. She went to grab the handle when Eamonn grabbed her wrist. He shook his head. Setting off the alert would only bring more security personnel to the area. They didn’t even know what the visit was about.

His eyes sharpened, warning her to keep away from the hatch until they both agreed.

She nodded back.

Eamonn went to the door. His ear focused on the crack.

Our meeting isn’t until four, Ty said. I don’t see how this can’t wait.

Because, Samantha Burns said.

Jinx on everything in this galaxy. Samantha Burns is ten meters from me. He reached for his sonic pistol. He could end the root of everything evil about the MSA.

But…

He couldn’t kill her. She had three or four guards around her, and more importantly, Martian politics wasn’t his concern anymore. He wanted out, and as Ty had said, if he killed again, someone else would want vengeance. Gwen would quadruple the bounty on him. He wouldn’t last long then. He loosened his grip on the trigger.

Samantha spoke. "I need reassurance that my officers are prepared to act immediately. Did you compile the supply information for the Solarspot?"

I was administrating before you were a glimmer in your mother’s eye, Samantha, Ty said. Don’t test my preparation skills.

That’s Vice Chancellor Burns, she said. Take note of the respect. I’m not as heartful as the supreme chancellor. I can end this for you.

Threats will get you nowhere, Ty replied. Your MSA’s obsession with the metalor ensures my survival.

Don’t be so sure of your value. Do you have the report?

Right here. Ty reached into his pocket and pulled out a datapad. Read it carefully. The meteor cluster is slowing. Don’t expect it to last forever.

The cluster has always had its slow periods. Don’t overstate the trivial.

Yes, Vice Chancellor.

Samantha didn’t say a word.

Eamonn heard footsteps heading toward the main door. And then they paused.

One more thing, have you spoken with Eamonn Dalton?

Reflexively, and controlled in his motion, Eamonn drew his pistol. As he felt Shannon’s eyes on him, he tilted his head toward her. Her eyes widened, begging him to follow her through the escape hatch. He shook his head. He wanted to hear Ty’s reply. It was the signal.

Ty defended him right from the start. He is a fugitive. Why would he come to Lunara? An MSA-controlled colony.

Denial was Ty’s tactic.

Eamonn listened carefully, waiting for a subtle hint.

Samantha replied with pride in her tone. Everything is MSA-controlled in this solar system.

Eamonn Dalton apparently isn’t.

Eamonn couldn’t see her, but he was certain Samantha was beside herself with aggravation. There was a report he is in the colony. The logical choice would be for him to contact you.

Lunara is too small for him to hide in. I’m sure your reports indicated other possible destinations. Phobos, perhaps.

Perhaps, she replied. She paused.

Eamonn’s heart thumped.

You’ll contact me if you hear from him. Harboring him is punishable by death.

Ty laughed. A forced one, but it was passable nonetheless. More threats. My time is too valuable for that. Are you done? I need to review efficiency reports before our meeting.

Maybe we will look around here, Samantha said. I’ve a feeling we’ll find something that will link you to the Alliance.

Come now, Ty said, challenging her idle threat. You don’t want rumors about mistrust in your officers to start. It would lead you down an awkward path.

Samantha pursed her lips. I’m watching you, she said. Don’t push me.

Are you reverting to threats again?

She didn’t reply.

Eamonn heard the swish of the door as it opened and the sound of boots stepping out of the apartment.

Moments later, Ty opened the door to the bedroom. Everything is safe. She won’t be back.

Are you sure? Shannon said. What about her promise to keep an eye on you?

She has told me that one hundred times over the last two years. They are threats. Nothing more, Ty said. You can stay in my room tonight.

We can’t impose, Eamonn said.

Nonsense, Ty said, moving past them and adjusting the mattress over the escape hatch again. Have you thought about my proposal?

Immediately, Eamonn wanted to say no. Involving himself against the MSA was his worst scenario. It would dig him deeper into it and further from his life of solitude. He didn’t want anyone to rely on him. He was scared and frightened.

Yet, Ty had asked him for a favor. The old Eamonn would have jumped to help him. But now, he had to think about his choice. He was going to Mars anyway, and he wanted to see Parker again—

I’ll take it to her, Shannon said. I can find my son.

No, he said, firmly. You agreed to give up Adol and let him go. If Samantha ever tracks him down, they’ll use him against you. Would you risk his life for a fleeting glimpse of him?

He is my son, she said. I want to be with him when he grows up.

The agreement. If you cross Samantha, she’ll kill him.

Shut up, I know, she said, pushing past him. She ran down the stairs and into the extra bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

She has sacrificed a lot to help you, Ty said.

Eamonn’s face soured. She is only helping herself. I let her come because my situation works better in pairs. We can blend in better.

She looks at you—

Don’t say it. I hate her. Almost as much as Samantha Burns.

Do you hate Samantha enough to do the job? I need you. You are the absolute only person I can trust.

I don’t want to be involved. He turned away from Ty but then shot a glare back at him. Don’t get Shannon involved either, because that makes me involved.

What about Madelyn and everyone who has died on Mars? You can’t give up when it gets tough.

Listen, Eamonn said. He pointed his finger toward Ty. The agitation from