Lunara: The Original Trilogy

by Wyatt Davenport

  Shannon bit her lower lip. "I never had a dad. Part of the reason I had Adol at a birthing center instead of with someone."

  "Only part?"

  "You aren’t getting the other parts out of me without more blood loss." Shannon smirked. "Tell me about the starwings."

  "My starwing is in the past. I’m afraid I’ll never fly her again on a meteor run."

  "You must have been a great pilot. They don’t let just anyone fly the meteor runs, especially with how much metalor is cherished."

  "Not many accept posts on Lunara, so I was there by default."

  "Don’t belittle your accomplishment. Many within the flight academy loved the meteor run simulations, and at least five top pilots from my class were rejected by Ty Falloom for your position."

  "Ty gave me all the chances in the solar system," Chloe replied, looking away from her. After a brief pause, she turned back. "How is your arm?"

  Shannon wiggled her arm back and forth. "Great. Doesn’t sting anymore."

  "It looked well as I bandaged it. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were—" Chloe stopped for a moment. Her fingers rubbed against her lips.

  "You’d think I was who?"

  "Seth," Chloe replied. "He has incredible healing abilities."

  "You didn’t want to say his name? Like Eamonn with me."

  "No, it wasn’t that. I can say ‘Seth’ all day long. I am angry with him, more furious and hotter than the innermost core of the sun. I want to punch him in the mouth. Knock some sense into him." Chloe looked away again, shaking her head. "But he can’t control what he does. Part of me doesn’t blame him."

  "Eamonn has the same feelings toward me. Except he doesn’t understand that I had no choice when it came to my son’s life. I had to give him over to the MSA to protect Adol."

  "I wish I could find the words for you. Eamonn was happy with you, before his capture. But there is nothing I can say."

  "It is not your place to reconcile us."

  Chloe smiled. A nervous and concerned smile, awkwardly curling her cheeks to show she sympathized with her pain—the pain of a lover who had been scorned.

  The locator beeped in Shannon’s hand. She and Chloe both turned to look at it. "I need my CommUn. We can link into the locator to find the beacon’s coordinates."

  "Right here," Chloe said, retrieving Shannon’s CommUn from the table.

  Shannon took the CommUn, removed the cap from the input plug, and inserted the male end of the locator into the CommUn. She thanked the universal plug system that had been in use for the past hundred years. The screen displayed a icon, and after several minutes, the ready indicator flashed.

  A map of Trivium Port appeared on the screen, consisting of corridors, air ducts, and access hatches. Two flashing lights dominated the display: one was orange and the other yellow. Currently, the yellow dot moved along a corridor.

  Shannon swore under her breath.

  "Is it out of range?" Chloe replied.

  She must have sworn a little louder than she thought. "No, the yellow dot is moving. That is the beacon. The orange is the drone ship."

  "Which means they found the beacon," Chloe said, exhaling at the end of her words.

  "Yes, but it doesn’t mean they know what it is," Shannon replied. "Drone ships haven’t been used since the early days of plasma shielding. That was over a hundred years ago. Not many—aside from maybe the curator of the museum—would know."

  "That settles it, then." Chloe stood tall. "If you are well again, we can track them and take it back. We have no other options."

  "And what if they take the beacon to an evidence locker? We can’t infiltrate the security center with only the two of us and no plan."

  Chloe shook her head. "As you said, they don’t know what it is. They’ll have to take it to the curator to find out."

  Shannon bolted up to a sitting position. Her head was a little woozy, but her nausea was gone. The stimulant was starting to take effect. "Where does he live?"

  "According to your mission debriefing…your written one—I did read that—his name is Frank Dellford."

  "You remember that?" she said.

  "Yes, my father’s name was Frank, too. It isn’t common."

  Shannon inputted his name into the CommUn’s search. His profile popped on the screen. "Thank you, MSA, for your paranoia. Everyone’s personal information is public domain. He lives two stories up from our location—toward the middle of the port."

  Chloe nodded. "And judging by the path of the yellow light, it is moving right toward his location. Let’s go." Chloe gathered the equipment from the table and moved toward the doorway.

  After dodging a handful of patrols, Shannon and Chloe arrived at a large circular foyer leading to several homes for the privileged residents of Trivium Port.

  The foyer was clean and elegant. Above them, the stars of the early evening twinkled through the glass roof. In the middle, polished Martian sandstone filled the open expanse, about fifty meters in diameter. Surrounding it, the inner circle contained a series of pillars, statues, and hydroponics tanks containing green leafy plants. Apartment doors were located on the outside wall. The elegance made Chloe wonder if there was more to the curator than she first anticipated.

  A quick dash across the foyer brought them huddled behind a hydroponics tank. The bubbling sound stole the room of absolute silence but, it wasn’t loud enough to stop them from hearing everything down the corridor.

  The yellow marker approached. Chloe swallowed, slowly, wondering how many security guards accompanied it, but they had several escape routes, and that gave her a loose sense of safety. Each quarter of the circular room contained an exit, each leading to a public transportation center or staircase. She pushed her toes upward, keeping her knees from locking in her crouched position. She was ready.

  Her eyes focused on the yellow dot on the screen. It stopped moving laterally and started to move upward. The elevator’s lights blinked slowly, indicating an incoming car.

  Curator Frank Dellford’s apartment was to her right, across the foyer, between the statue of former chancellor Damon Arwell and a bushy-looking plant. Chloe pursed her lips. This was an insane plan. She could only imagine disaster. The locator would have too many guards around it. How can we overpower a squad of guards? With luck. How could I doubt this plan when it was my idea? Easily—it is insane.

  Her breathing was labored, and she could smell the mustiness of her sweat as it trickled down from her forehead across the side of her face and down her neck.

  The yellow dot stopped, and after a short pause, they heard the footsteps of the person walking down the hall. It sounded like more than one pair of footsteps, walking in unison, and as the sound grew louder, Chloe and Shannon had less than ten seconds before they came around the corner—

  Then it hit her—the immediate presence of Gwen Arwell. Gwen had the locator. Chloe gripped the handle of her sonic pistol tighter. She wanted to spring from her stooped position, storm Gwen, demand to hear what she was doing to Seth, and then kill her.

  Her smarts fought against her impetuosity. She held her position; if they had plenty of escape options, so would Gwen. She needed her in the perfect spot.

  Gwen and two guards passed into the foyer. Chloe sensed Shannon clamoring to jump out beside her, but she didn’t jump out, waiting instead for them to approach the door. She pursed her lips again.

  Gwen stopped in the foyer, making Chloe wonder if she had spotted her. She was wrong. Chloe sensed a sadness flowed through Gwen, with thoughts of her father consuming her attention. The feeling crept into Chloe, and she tried to block it. Regrettably, she had already connected to Gwen, so she endured Gwen’s sadness.

  Several quick steps later, the group reached the door and knocked.

  Chloe sprung out, moved to the middle of the foyer, and checked to make sure no guards were posted down the hallway at the elevator. There were none, and she hurried toward Gwen, who was flanked by her two guards.<
br />
  One of the guards must have heard them because he twirled around with his gun drawn, and before Chloe could react, Shannon blasted two shots into his neck. Then in a matter of moments, before the first guard had hit the ground, Shannon dropped the second guard. They were both dead, leaving Gwen shrinking against the closed door. She rattled the locked handle.

  Chloe drew her gun and pointed it at Gwen, as did Shannon. Chloe was surprised Shannon hadn’t shot Gwen where she stood. Jinx, she wanted to, more than anything in this solar system. Except first, she needed to know what Gwen had done to Seth and what deal she had made with him. She had to find out if Alexandria was safe.

  A controlled rage pulsed out from Shannon. She wanted assurances for Adol as well. Shannon’s arms shook, her breathing deepened, and her eyes turned red. Chloe couldn’t tell what was holding Shannon back from killing Gwen. Conflict exploded from within her.

  Chloe gritted her teeth and fought against Shannon’s conflict and Gwen’s terror. The sensation intrigued and plagued her. What should I do?

  "Give us the beacon!" Shannon shouted.

  "What are you talking about?" Gwen said smoothly, trying to remain in control. But her cowering body gave her fear away.

  "Where is Seth?" Chloe shouted.

  "Phobos is the last I heard. He is looking for you…Chloe Jones."

  "I’m a Smith. Don’t deny it. It’ll only lead to greater pain for you."

  "My bedmate for the last two years thinks otherwise. You are no more."

  "He clings to the thought of me. I sense it. Your heart is telling you that, but your obsession lies to you. Still, after two years of him in your bed, he comes to me in the middle of the night, and his emptiness is there."

  Gwen stepped toward Chloe, but Shannon shoved her gun at her. Gwen smirked at Shannon. "Has Chloe told you her secret?" She nodded her head at Chloe. "The secret has been guiding everything Seth has become and everything Seth has done since they met. Everyone calls Seth scared and paranoid, but—"

  "Shut up, Gwen. You don’t know what you are talking about. I’m unafraid of what is, not like you and Seth are," Chloe said.

  That wasn’t entirely true, because Chloe wasn’t free from fear. Her knees shook, and sickness lurched from within her stomach. The MSA security could come at any second, from any direction. "Enough of your double-talk and stall tactics. I want that beacon."

  Gwen ignored her. "I control Seth now. You can’t—"

  Chloe stepped toward Gwen and thrust her forearm into Gwen’s face, sending her staggering back into the wall. "I told you to shut up."

  Gwen turned slowly, eyeing her with a pointed brow. Blood dripped from Gwen’s lower lip, which was already puffy and bruised. Supreme Chancellor Arwell was nothing like the woman Chloe used to know. Gwen had been sweet and looked to help her crewmates; now she carried a pompous swagger, arrogant from her absolute power. Gwen used to help Chloe with her problems, while this power-infected woman was the cause of her problems. Gwen used to make Lunara feel like home to many people who were millions of kilometers away from Mars. Here on Mars, their home was precarious, since an arbitrary order from this woman could take it all away. Chloe’s greatest horror wasn’t the loss of friendship or the loss of a crew member or the loss of her former life. It was Gwen causing her to lose Seth. Gwen had taken him away—she hated Gwen now.

  Chloe took a half step forward. Gwen flinched.

  "Shut up, and stand still," Chloe said. Firmly, purposefully, she stepped toward Gwen. Shannon jerked her gun, making Gwen aware that one false move meant death. Reaching into Gwen’s pockets, Chloe found the beacon and moved it into her own pocket.

  "Now you will die—" Shannon said, coldly, her voice unwavering. Gwen cringed.

  The door to the apartment opened. It distracted Shannon enough for her to adjust the sights of her gun toward the doorway. Chloe looked as well. It was the curator, standing in his pajamas, his mouth agape.

  Gwen didn’t hesitate.

  A foot slammed into Chloe’s midsection, knocking the wind from her lungs. She gasped and fell to the floor.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Shots rang out from Shannon’s gun. The curator slumped to the ground, blood oozing from the middle of his forehead.

  With her hand, Shannon grabbed Chloe under her armpit, lifting her to her feet. Pivoting around, Chloe tried to find Gwen, but she was nowhere to be seen. She gave up quickly—fully aware of the imminent presence of MSA guards. She followed Shannon out of the foyer and down the corridor closest to them. Her breath was short until they reached a fork in the corridor. With a deep inhale, the air rushed into her lungs again. Shannon hesitated for only a moment before heading for a staircase. Chloe followed.

  Shannon raced up the staircase, two stairs at a time. This was not the escape route Chloe would have taken, but she followed nonetheless, trusting Shannon’s survival instincts.

  Still, she questioned her. "Where are you going?"

  "Not entirely sure."

  "You don’t know where we are going?"

  "Not entirely sure is better than not sure at all," Shannon replied. "The MSA will come from below us. They don’t have any security terminals above level four hundred."

  "But Trivium Port has only four hundred and ten levels."

  "We have room to work with."

  They exited the staircase on level 408. The corridor contained living quarters. Immediately, they hustled down the hallway toward the west side of the port. After a two-minute jog, they saw a larger expanse open, with several levels ringing around a central oval.

  Chloe looked over the edge. Several people were bustling around the shopping and dining district. The two women had been in a similar marketplace on the east side, when they first escaped. Shannon pulled her collar close to her cheeks, and Chloe followed suit.

  The walk was torturous. Paranoia flowed around Chloe as she tried to recognize any orders to apprehend them and scan for any sign of MSA activity. Shannon had just killed the curator of the museum and the supreme chancellor of the MSA. Everyone on Mars would be looking for them now.

  "Don’t look so worried," Shannon whispered to her. "I didn’t kill Gwen, if that is what you are thinking."

  "How did you know I was thinking that?" Chloe was dumbfounded that Shannon had read her thoughts.

  "Your face is pale, and you are clutching close to me. I figure you think the port is on full alert. They won’t be. They don’t want to upset the natives, and they’ll handle it completely internally."

  "They are still looking for us?"

  "Of course, but they’ll barricade the exits, keeping our profiles known only to the security forces."

  "So how do we escape?"

  "We need a disguise."

  Shannon moved toward a pharmacy booth, pulled out several credit chips, and purchased a set of hair dyes and a pair of scissors. Then she led Chloe into a bathroom.

  Chloe thought this plan was even crazier than the previous one. The MSA would definitely recognize them. Sure they had the locator and the beacon, and their mission was a success, but they were also stuck in Trivium Port, having pointed a gun at the supreme chancellor of the MSA. Escape was impossible.

  When the dark shadow from behind the door withdrew, Gwen rose to her feet, feeling a burden lifted from her shoulders as she sensed the imminent danger was over.

  She saw blood spilling into the doorway. The curator was dead. Her body went rigid. She stood, listening for the intruder’s second attempt to assassinate her. Seconds felt like hours, and she stepped away from the doorway back into the apartment. Terror shook her body.

  She heard nothing. The foyer was silent for several minutes. Gwen tried her best to control her trembling body. Her security team would arrive at any moment. She didn’t want anyone seeing her frightened. She steadied her nerves, telling herself that the danger had passed.

  Suddenly, the silence broke. Someone cried from the hallway, and the bustling boots grew louder. The most relieving sound she had heard in a lo
ng time.

  "I’m here!" Gwen shouted. "Everything is safe."

  The next instant, the security guards kicked the door open, and a dozen of them burst into the apartment. Moving from room to room, they secured the area.

  "My lady," the squad leader said, walking through the doorway. "Did you see where they went?"

  "No, they fled out of the foyer. I didn’t see where. I take it you did not see them."

  The squad leader lowered his gaze. "No, we haven’t."

  Gwen measured her words, purposefully controlling the excitement within her. "It was Shannon Buckley and Chloe Jones. They threatened me and killed my guards. Have the security force run a check point at every exit in Trivium Port."

  "Already under way, my lady."

  "And keep this quiet. I don’t want it to escalate. The people must remain unaware of what happened here. Have these bodies removed and clean up the mess within ten minutes."

  "Under way, my lady," the squad leader said. He relayed the orders to his second-in-command and then turned back toward Gwen. "Did they hurt you in any way?"

  "Only my pride," she said. She dabbed her sore lip. "And my lip."

  "I’ll have a medic here shortly."

  Gwen didn’t care about her lip. She cared about the risk Shannon and Chloe had taken to get the beacon from her. What was so important about it? "They also took a bar from me."

  "I’m sorry. A bar, my lady?"

  "Yes, a metal bar with two blinking lights about a quarter of a meter long. It was important to them, and I need to know why."

  "Was it made of precious metals? Gold, silver?"

  "No, iron. I think it was from the spaceship museum."

  "History isn’t my strong suit. We should contact the curator of the museum. He or she would know."

  "He owns this apartment, and he is dead."

  The squad leader looked down to the floor where the curator lay. He went silent.

  "Forget the medics for now," she said. "Have a squad of soldiers organized to take me to the museum. Maybe I can get a clue as to what they were doing."

  "It’ll take a few moments," the squad leader replied.

  "Quickly," Gwen replied. She walked away from the man and into the foyer.