"I see them now," Shannon said, jerking the control stick to the port side, angling the Protector away from the oncoming fighters. After a short thrust with the rear engines, she slammed the reverse thrusters to full, stopped the ship’s forward momentum, swiveled around behind Jan’s starwing, and reactivated the engines.
Eamonn worried about a stall, but none came. The engines fired up as expected.
To their front, the MSA fighters came into view. Eamonn double-checked the display. Indeed, the three forward ships were ordinary fighters. Unseen in his original assessment, the rear ship was a bomber. If left unattended, it was capable of a lot of damage, and it explained the barrage of missiles they had just avoided. The squadron came in a diamond formation—a protective flank, covering the bomber’s weakness. Yet the bomber provided Eamonn’s greatest anxiety as it packed a single punch capable of knocking the Protector into a million pieces.
"Focus on that bomber," he said. "Where is Parker?"
The Protector and the starwing sped toward the diamond of MSA attackers. Both squared off; the first wrong maneuver would be a fatal one.
"Aurora section of Leto quadrant now," Parker said, his voice straining. "I have two fighters trying to lock onto my tail. I can’t do anything."
"Jinx," Eamonn said. On radar, Aurora section was fifty thousand kilometers from them, heading in the direction where no landmarks stood out in his mind. "Can you angle back toward us? We are about to complete an attack run on the other four. I can’t leave to help you."
"It is all I can do not to get killed. I can’t move anywhere but to open space. They cut me off from you guys."
Then Eamonn remembered, forgetting about the changes that had happened to the lunar skyways since the Battle of Lunara. "Get into the debris field."
"I’m not going into there," Parker said with a tension in his tone that thinned his syllables. "That would be suicide. I wouldn’t survive two minutes."
"You have better chances in there than in open space. The MSA fighters have you where they want you."
"Affirmati—"
The trilling of his tracking system garbled the last of Parker’s transmission.
Eamonn refocused his eyes out of the viewscreen. The MSA fighters were starting their attack run toward them. He resigned himself to the fact that Parker would have to save himself.
Parker reached over his head and deactivated every thruster warning the starwing had, silencing the ear-splitting shrieks that plagued his cockpit. Sonic bullets whizzed over, missed, and then streaked into the depths of space.
The MSA fighters closed in.
He didn’t need his rear viewscreen to know. With each evasive maneuver, he extended his life by seconds.
The debris field was five hundred kilometers away. He would be there in under a minute. He rolled his starwing toward the lunar surface, skimming only meters above. The pull of gravity shook against the bottom of his ship. He angled upward to keep it level.
Glancing at the rear viewscreen, he saw that the MSA fighters had dropped back a few kilometers, apparently unaware of the gravity tricks the lunar craters played on their ships. They weaved back and forth between the larger craters, avoiding them at all costs.
He swung his starwing upward, and the MSA fighters followed like dogs chasing a rabbit. They matched every move he made.
"Jinx," he muttered as he yanked the control stick from left to right and then back again. He narrowly avoided a jagged wing of an MSA cruiser floating across his flight path.
He reached the debris field.
Ducking, darting, and twisting, Parker skirted the debris scattered in front of him. He also tried to keep an eye on the MSA fighters, who undoubtedly had followed him into the former battle zone, but with the odds against him, he couldn’t locate them.
He looped around, twisting his ship upward while trying to steady his vertical axis. However, the starwing didn’t carry enough speed to skirt through the closing gap as two floating debris fields came together. As the wing clipped the metal chunk, his starwing staggered. The repulse engines fired automatically to stabilize.
He glanced over toward his broken wing and sighed. The debris peeled the metal slightly into a jagged mess, but the damage was only superficial. None of his alerts buzzed nevertheless.
He angled his starwing down through the thinning section. The bigger chucks disappeared. Still no sign of the MSA fighters.
For several minutes, he glided. The skeleton of the Alliance’s Barracuda floated over this starwing. He remembered the moment during the Battle of Lunara, inside of the transport, when the Barracuda exploded. The low point at which he thought the Alliance was doomed. With his help and the help of his friends, they had persevered and ended up taking back Lunara and their freedom. Yet, right now, he was back in the war again.
He rocked the starwing back and forth to avoid the debris streaking in front of him. This is suicide, he thought. He had to locate the MSA fighters again. It was the only way for him to know with certainty that he was safe to leave.
Sweat pooled on his forehead.
He twisted around, trying to spot their silvery hulls. The verging dark side of the moon gave no indication. His surroundings faded too much against the blackness of space to give him a clear view.
In front of him, he saw the two MSA fighters bearing down on him. Startled by their quickness, he yanked his control stick to the side. If he had had extra time to complete the roll, he knew he would have avoided the incoming fire. Instead, the bullets perforated the wing and engine mount, causing a cascade of failures. Lights flashed everywhere on his panel.
The next instant, Parker felt his entire weight pressing against the bottom of his seat. The computer ejected him.
He rushed up and away from his starwing toward the Barracuda’s jagged remains. Without time to think, he reflexively put his hands in front of his face and braced for impact.
His life pod—the cockpit of the starwing—passed through the cracked hull of the Barracuda, tumbled down an unidentifiable corridor, and after a neck-jerking jolt, rested in the total blackness of the destroyed Barracuda.
His head swam. He reached out, stretching his hand toward the control panel and activating his location beacon. At least he hoped that was it.
He fell unconscious.
The diamond formation quickly dissipated and formed into an inverted V formation. Tactically, Eamonn recognized the maneuver, but he hadn’t appreciated the agility of the MSA fighters. The outside fighters swept ahead, pinning the starwing and the Protector from banking laterally away from the oncoming bomber and paired fighter.
They would have to punch their way out. The firing angles the MSA fighters established with their formation switch gave them no room to skirt through. He targeted his turret gun’s at the bomber and fired.
The streak of bullets whizzed toward the bomber.
Disoriented by the corkscrewing maneuver, the bomber wavered as the bullets slashed across its hull. It turned into its fellow fighter. Avoiding contact at all costs, the MSA fighter slid to the side.
An opening—Eamonn anticipated—developed. Jan led, zipping her starwing through the gap and away from the MSA’s trap. More sluggish than the starwing, the Protector blasted toward the gap but the MSA fighters flanking to the side closed fast.
A salvo of bullets connected, and a resonating ping echoed down the central corridor and into the bridge. Eamonn winced.
A hull breach alert squawked and shrilled. He undid the harnesses on his safety belt and lunged for the porthole release valve. He pulled it down and sealed the bridge from the rest of the ship.
The Protector shook.
Gripping the support handles, he moved toward the atmospheric controls.
He called up the atmospheric display screen and selected each section of the ship except the bridge. He cycled past the warning screens and released the oxygen from the rear compartments into space. This leveled the pressure between outer space and the rest of the ship bu
t left them trapped. The alternative, however, was the Protector’s hull peeling back like a tin popcorn bag and ejecting everything, including Shannon and himself, into space. He favored his chances on the sealed bridge.
He stumbled to his chair. He swiveled around. "Status."
"They bugged out. All of them. The scout jumped not five seconds ago."
"Jinx!" he shouted. "Another getting away. I’m starting to hate this trend."
"How were we supposed to know he had company?"
"We should have known. The Alliance can’t afford anything less than the total control of the moon. We can’t allow them to compromise our territory. It’s all we have now," Eamonn said, the muscles tightening along his jaw line, clearly agitated. "Jan?"
"Here," Jan said. "The Protector has a sizable gash along the aft of the ship."
"We know. I depressurized everything but the bridge."
"Are you picking up Parker?"
"No." Annoyed, he hadn’t finished checking his display. He wasn’t angry with Jan, but his animosity toward the MSA lingered in his mind. They continually were one step ahead of the Alliance.
Suddenly, his scan for Parker completed with a faint blip and signal in the debris field. "Shannon, set a course for Parker’s starwing. The MSA have won this day."
Chapter 2
"Lunara has new security regulations," Ty said, scratching the back of his head. "We’ll send out two Asterfighters to escort you back into the colony."
"I understand," Seth replied, trying to act as if Ty’s request didn’t hurt him. A lump formed in his throat. Ty had been a father to him for most of his life, and the fact that Ty thought it was necessary to send out an escort was disheartening to him.
Chloe put her arm around his shoulder.
"Minister Cortez ordered all ships to be escorted into Lunara…as I said, new procedures. All your friends will be welcoming you when you arrive."
"Minister Cortez? He died at the Mars Two-Hundred-Year Gala."
"Minister Sarah Cortez is the new minister of the Alliance."
"Sarah!" Chloe exclaimed. "So she did escape. Her location at the gala was in question. We’ll give you a full report when we land."
"Okay."
"One more thing, Ty. I’ve been dying to tell Jan and you the good news."
"Good news. I haven’t had much in the past month."
"Seth and I are engaged, and we committed our love."
"That is wonderful. I expected it long ago."
"Don’t tell Jan," Chloe said. "I want to surprise her."
"I wouldn’t dare tell her about this. You know how she gets when it comes to committing before marriage."
"She’ll get over it. We are in love."
"Yes. She’ll be happy after you get your lecture," Ty said with a smirk. "I’ll see you when you arrive. Lunara Command out."
The screen darkened and Ty’s face disappeared.
"Why did you have to tell him?" Seth said. "You know how Jan gets."
"I don’t care how Jan gets," she said, cutting off his words. "I’m telling everyone about us. This is the best moment of my life."
"I can’t disagree." A tiny grimace pulled the lines of his face as the moon emerged. "I’m worried about how we’ll be received. Ty said our friends would welcome us. But Roche isn’t here anymore, and Gwen is with her father. How can anyone trust us? We are from Zephyria originally, we are good friends with the chancellor’s daughter, and we are arriving in a Zephyrian ship. This is not the return I envisioned."
"I’m more worried they’ll unjustly hate Gwen. She didn’t do any of it. They’ll condemn her before she even has a chance to vindicate herself." Chloe crossed her arms. "Why did this become so complicated?"
Two Aethpisian Asterfighters escorted the Zephyrian transport ship as it swung around to the near side of the moon. Seth guided it into the confined set of coordinates given to them by Lunara’s navigation control center.
In contrast to his initial thoughts, he realized that the reason they weren’t escorted was not because of a lack of trust but because the debris and muddled traffic around the colony made traveling difficult. His eyes darted along his course, spying out clusters aimed at harming the ship. "Gwen wasn’t lying when she said a huge battle took place over Lunara. I hope the colony isn’t as mangled as the remains of the battlefield."
"Why would Gwen lie?"
"It was a figure of speech," he said. "Don’t practice your defense of her on me. I’m on your side."
Chloe grimaced and her face turned pale.
"What is it?" Seth said.
"My headaches have grown stronger. I can block the pain for the most part, but I have to concentrate on it."
"You should see a doctor."
"I will on Lunara," she said.
"Did Bauer do something to you?"
"No," she replied. "It was starting before him. I hoped that he would help it with his experiments."
"A sort of a benefit to the torture?"
"Something like that. He and Dakota never mentioned anything, so I think they missed it. But the headaches are so strong now. Lunaran doctors will find something."
"What can I do to help?"
"Nothing!" she said sharply. "I meant—look!" She pointed toward Lunara. "The new hanger is completely gone, and the old tower is missing."
"The other hangars survived. The north section is Swiss cheese, but most of the holes are patched. During the battle…it must have been hit with a massive amount of firepower. The blast pattern sweeps across like the wind hitting the rock formations on Mars."
Chloe nodded in confirmation. Scanning the station, her stomach tightened. She crossed her arms and hugged herself. "I’m frightened. How will they ever forgive us?" She lowered her head and began to cry. "The destruction…" she mumbled over the lump in her throat. "…I don’t want to face them. They’ll be so angry."
He shrugged. "It was not our fault."
"But we’re the ones who told Mars that Aethpis was the enemy—"
He cut her words off. "Lunara Control, this is the Zephyria transport…I never caught the name. Where do you want us to land?"
The radio crackled, and a familiar voice spoke: "Seth, this is Atalo. We were worried about you. Your transport’s name is registered as Hope’s Revenge. I reserved a spot for you beside the Protector."
"Grove! Glad you are here. We’ll need the hangar doors opened for landing. And thanks."
"No problem, my friend. Tell Chloe I missed her, too."
"I will."
"Thanks. Lunara out."
He turned to Chloe. "I told you everyone would be happy to see us. Everyone forgives us."
"Don’t pretend with me. You’re as worried as I am, but it was nice to hear Atalo in such good spirits. Although he is normally in a good mood."
He smirked and moved the ship into a position at the entryway to the hangar.
The transport shuttle floated five meters off the deck, moving slowly toward the pad as Seth searched out the center, which was marked off with thick yellow lights encircled by red lights. The Protector rested twenty meters to their port side; scaffolding and restraining harnesses held it in place.
From Chloe’s angle, she saw the extensive superficial damage along the side and the empty hole where his starwing once docked. The maintenance crew scuttled about repairing it.
The transport touched down gently, with only a slight grinding of the landing struts. The stark lights lit the hangar dimly. The red warning lights morphed shadows against the walls. The main overheads were disabled.
Chloe twisted her head when the rumbling of the door closed behind them. It shut with a booming halt. She relaxed her muscles as the transport stopped shaking. She had been in this hangar thousands of times, but it had never been so alien to her and would never be the same as it had before. They unstrapped their flight harnesses and made their way to the back of the ship.
"At least we don’t have to unpack," she said dryly.
Seth
said nothing in reply. He stared unwaveringly out the portal toward the access door to the hangar bay. He tried to hide his growing guilt and shame from her searching mind. But he couldn’t. Not with the amount of raw emotion eating at his heart.
"Don’t worry too much."
"If you say so," he said with a limp smirk.
The hatchway hissed and the shutter door opened as the ramp extended to the ground. He allowed her to step down first.
She was home. And then she noticed the guards to his left—home, yet not welcome.
Chapter 3
Gwen Arwell roused herself from her sleep. She pulled off the bedsheet as the chill of the room brushed her bare body. Grabbing her robe from the nightstand, she wrapped it tightly around herself and cinched it at her waist.
In the bathroom, she splashed warm water on her face. The past week’s events were drawn as long lines and sags along her cheeks. Once again, her father had put her in solitude for hours, and she didn’t expect Samantha would ever talk to her again. She did what she did for Seth. How had she fallen in love with him and forsaken her family? They had been friends for three years, and she respected Seth and Chloe’s relationship, but her feelings had changed on her return to Mars. Why? She slammed her fist against the sink.
"Gwen, jinx yourself," she muttered. "This all went wrong for you when you took the blame for Samantha." Two years ago, if she hadn’t pleaded guilty, she could have kept a closer eye on her father. He wouldn’t have been able to form the MSA under her nose. Samantha would have been expelled from the school and couldn’t have helped him. Best and worst of all, she wouldn’t have met Seth, and her heart wouldn’t ache for him.
"Don’t be stupid. Fate brought you to this point for a reason. Find it," she said to the mirror.
She wondered why the crew hadn’t made contact with her again. Seth had promised that he would return, but she was having her doubts about that now. The crew had more pressing needs. The MSA were powerful, and she could see their dominance across the solar system already. She admired her father’s meticulous effort to gain control of humanity. His only slip was Lunara, where she could have been now. Though it was her choice to stay with her father, a part of her knew that if she were on Lunara now, she would be interrogated as a traitor and probably be put to death. She told Seth she was staying to help her father, but mostly, she was saving her own life. As self-serving as that might be, her life on that side of the solar system was over. She would never be a part of the Protector’s crew again. She had to embrace the MSA or die fighting for an Alliance that would never accept her.
Lunara: The Original Trilogy Page 38