Lunara: The Original Trilogy

by Wyatt Davenport

  Walking guardedly, Shannon flashed the light down the side road to their left.

  Chloe turned her head, and a vision of the past once again flooded her mind. Washed away were the sand drifts, the rusted metal siding, and the toppled walls of the present; she could only see the past, in which the boy she loved, so brave and strong, was staring at her from a distance. She would never forget what Seth did for her and would always love him for it.

  Gwen Arwell could end Seth’s love for Chloe if she ever told Seth the secret Chloe had been keeping for all these years. Chloe hadn’t thought about it in forever, and she had never mentioned it to anyone. Not even him, especially not him. Somehow, Gwen had learned her secret—

  Shannon knelt. "I don’t see any footprints."

  "The colony is dead," Chloe said. "I don’t sense anyone either. I wasn’t lying."

  "There are squatters on Mars," Shannon said. "I was one for six months in the old colony of Rabe."

  "Never heard of it," Chloe said, sporadically listening to what Shannon was saying. She was engrossed, trying to take in the entire colony. Scorch marks stained the walls, and the echoes of the screams remained in the hollowing wind. Chloe shivered.

  Shannon stood again. "Are you going to be okay?"

  "Yes." Chloe shook off the visions. She looked at Shannon and returned to the present. "You should place the beacon in the plaza on this side of the colony."

  "Is that the largest plaza?"

  "No." Chloe paused for a moment. "The northern plaza is where the people are buried. It is forbidden to land there."

  "They are dead. They’ll not mind."

  "I’ll mind. And so will everyone else who survived the massacre."

  Shannon bristled. "If it crashes, it is on your head."

  "Fine."

  After a short walk up a hill, Chloe showed Shannon where to place the beacon in the southern plaza.

  Later, they walked to the closest housing unit. The double doors still worked—only by using the manual release, though—and they entered the unit, escaping the cold wind.

  The room was bare, aside from only small scrapes of fabric and metal. Chloe immediately moved toward the back wall to locate the heat coil. She pulled the power unit from her sonic pistol and attached it to the coil. Slowly, with some urging, it activated. The burning dust bit her nose as it filled the room, then dissipated as the heater warmed to full.

  Immediately, Shannon curled up on the floor and fell asleep.

  It wasn’t that easy for Chloe. Her mind raced with too many problems: her friend’s fate in executing the other stages of the plan, the MSA forces tracking her, and the secret she had hidden for so many years that had surfaced and could only lead to Seth hating her. She didn’t sense any chance that Gwen was bluffing her. Sure, everyone had a secret, and Gwen saying she had figured out some undefined secret could be a ploy to create confusion, but Chloe doubted it. Gwen had indeed figured it out.

  Feeling the warmth of the heater across her body, Chloe curled up in the corner. For now, she needed rest. Her stomach tightened, her heart was wrung, and her chin trembled. Soon, she would betray her friends and leave the group to find Seth and rescue him from the Raiders of his past.

  Chapter 18

  Gwen Arwell stood at the edge of the museum’s balcony, looking down the zip line to the surface below. It was hard to imagine Chloe Jones traveling down from such a high place. But it did happen. The video showed the truth, and seeing Chloe also scaling the cliff’s face, Gwen realized there had to be something vitally important inside the museum for Chloe to wrestle her fears into submission. Gwen picked her chin with her finger.

  Certainly, the evidence pointed to the thief of one of the sleeker crafts. Several damaged high-performance subquickdrive shuttles and one high-speed fighter bore damage, but they were old and outdated. Even the fastest of the bunch couldn’t stand against anything the MSA had, or for that matter, anything the Alliance had. It would be an absolute annihilation in battle, even against a slow-moving freighter or stationary base. The tracking systems would destroy them within two shots.

  And then the beacon they had been so determined to retrieve created another layer to the puzzle. It didn’t seem to fit.

  Baffled, Gwen turned toward Constable Kylor Neptune. "Is there anything on the balcony of significance?" she asked.

  "Nothing more than you have seen," he said. "They rappelled from the cliff’s top and slung down to the bottom on the zip line. Quite daring."

  "You admire them."

  "Don’t take this wrong." Neptune smirked ever so slightly. "I’m impressed beyond measure. Their ability to slip past my guards and out of the colony was not only daring but clever. Everyone should admire cleverness. They did things that would crash training simulations."

  "Failure on your part isn’t something I would be too enamored with. You should have caught them."

  "Yes, I did fail. Only because they were so great. Not because I or my soldiers were ill-prepared or inept."

  "Your report on the situation will tell the tale," Gwen replied, purposely keeping her anger with him in check. "What about their transportation to the top of the cliff?"

  "We retrieved a hovercar," Neptune said. "As of now, we have it under surveillance should they return."

  Gwen eyed the man. "You don’t expect them to return?"

  "No."

  To think they had fled was sound logic. "Anything more about the beacon?"

  "No," he said, clutching his radio close to his chest. "Perhaps it didn’t come from the museum, and it was already part of their equipment."

  "What would they need a beacon for?"

  "To locate another team member. An escape vehicle."

  "Perhaps. But it isn’t of a design I had seen before. It was old. Besides, they guessed where I was headed and must have had a device to track it. The curator knew its purpose, and they wanted to silence him, springing an ambush on us. They took advantage of me there for a reason. The beacon is from this museum." She didn’t say anything else to the constable and moved back through the double doors.

  The room that once teemed with personnel was empty. She ordered the distractions out. She walked down the rows, looking at the various ships. Nothing indicated anything special. The museum had over one hundred different crafts, and she had already started a search for any tampering.

  After traversing many rows, she came to the last ship toward the front wall. The plaque read: "Aethpisian Drone Ship: used during the second era of Martian settlement on Mars…traveled to and from the most hostile regions of the solar system, delivering cargo retrieved from the furthest outposts—"

  Suddenly, and quite to her surprise, the retrorockets on the drone ship lit up, sending a ball of flame across the floor toward her.

  Gwen took several steps backward before coming to a sudden stop as she banged into the plaque of a nearby ship and tumbled to the ground. Unable to brace with her arms during the awkward fall, the thud of her head slamming against the floor echoed throughout the room. She was dazed.

  The roar of the retrorockets turned deafening a moment later as it turned from idling thrust to full thrust. It was taking off! A wave of heat melted the tiling and rippled the air. The cringing smell of burning paint forced her nose into her shoulder.

  A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her mind shifted to Chloe and Shannon. Of course, she thought, they wanted the drone ship and needed the beacon to control it.

  The drone ship whined.

  She sensed the main thrusters beginning to fire, and if she was too close to that, she would definitely be barbecued. She felt the weight of panic pressing against her thoughts, wanting her to do anything to escape the inferno. Her options were limited; she could either get as far away from it as possible or get behind a barrier, both of which posed significant risk. Being far away but still in direct sight could be fatal if the backwash billowed the flames farther than she expected, and being behind a barrier could ultimately be the sam
e as stepping into an oven when the main thrusters kicked on. Baked or grilled. The thought was amusing as it passed through her mind.

  Baked was the better option because many of the barriers around her were heat-shielded hulls of former Martian spaceships. She looked, frantically throwing her head around, for the perfect place to hide. Alas, there was nothing relatively close. The double doors were a good option, if she could get there.

  She staggered to her feet—and as if she had received a slap to the back of the head, she fell to her knees. A wave of dizziness sloshed her mind back and forth, too much for her to recover her balance. She reached her hand out, hoping someone would grab it. No one came, and she tumbled to the ground.

  Behind her, the drone ship rocked as it gently lifted off the floor, keeping the top away from the ceiling of the museum, as if it knew it was there.

  The pungent odor of burnt fuel seared the hairs in her nose, impressing upon her that the main thrusters could fire at any moment. She scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees and went past the double doors. She slid behind the closest alcove, beside the double doors to the far wall and under a tri-winged fighter. It was slightly exposed but hidden enough to give her hope.

  Her breathing quickened. Where is Neptune? Nowhere to be found, that’s where! Another useless minion. Where is Seth? He could save her from this horrible fate.

  She turned around as the drone ship sped forward, aimed at the bay window to the front.

  The next few moments were a blur to Gwen. The drone ship shattered the window with a deafening crash that echoed around her. The ship blasted out and over the balcony, shooting away from the museum.

  And then, her worst nightmare happened. First, she felt the heat against her shoulder. She spun around and stared helpless as a ball of fire hurtled its way toward her.

  Squeezing her eyes tight, she pressed her back against the wall, trying to minimize her exposure to the heat. However, and to her surprise, the flames never reached her. She opened her eyes as she felt a cold draft pass over her. The fireball retreated fast.

  But she wasn’t relieved. The terror within her heightened, and she wished more than ever that Seth were beside her. A strobe of blue light signaled the impending disaster.

  Atmospheric containment failure: the blue flashing light was the most terrifying alert on Mars. The walls pulsated within the flash.

  Gwen drew in a deep breath. A containment failure, and she couldn’t believe she was a part of it. The air flowed across her cheeks, and she knew the atmospheric pressure inside the museum was greater than the outside atmosphere, causing the air and everything loose to pull out. Until the pressure equalized, everything would be thrown out. Including her!

  First, her hair moved, and then her entire body felt like it was being ripped from her bones. She tried to grab hold of the fighter closest to her. It was of little use. The pressure tore her grip easily from the support, and suddenly, she was flying toward the wide opening the drone ship had left. She was halfway to the opening when the pressure equalized, and without the force to lift her, she slammed back down, her head jolting off the floor.

  The jolt hadn’t stopped her momentum. She was still sliding, being carried forward.

  Instinctively, she clawed with her fingers, trying to find anything to hold. She found only blistering hot floor tiles.

  Her hands retracted in pain. She threw a glance over her shoulder, spotted two struts partly torn by the drone ship’s exit, and braced for impact. Her feet connected against them, and she flexed her thigh muscles to stop her sliding momentum.

  The struts held, and she stopped. It was over.

  She took a deep breath. Nothing! She felt nothing but empty air fill her lungs. Atmospheric containment failure, she thought, quickening her breath. She was outside without a breathing mask!

  Several gasps later, her head spinning out of control, her body relaxed. Then before she could formulate her next movement, everything went black.

  Chapter 19

  The sound of engine thrusters awoke them for the second time that night. The first time was when the drone ship landed, and now, hovering above their location, was the MSA shuttle Eamonn and Parker had stolen. The backwash blistered downward, kicking up dust and debris.

  Chloe put her forearm in front of her eyes and looked up. Shannon, several paces away from her, attempted to direct the shuttle into the confined space remaining in the southern plaza, but her efforts were futile; a cloud of dust enveloped her, sending her backpedaling for cover. The whine of the engines drowned out the other night sounds. Chloe covered her ears as the shuttle moved to within meters of the ground and showed no signs of bullet fire or duress. Instantly, she knew their mission was as successful as theirs.

  The drone ship had landed a little under an hour ago, settling within a meter of the beacon. The sky gave no hint of MSA pursuit. Shannon had been correct. Once it had torn through the glass window, rocketed into the blackness of the night, and then skimmed along the surface, the hapless radar controllers had been confused.

  The silhouette of Parker McCloud moved in the main cabin. A joy welled inside of Chloe, amplifying her confidence, making her believe for a nanosecond that they might accomplish their mission. Yet uneasiness remained within her, especially now. Since their arrival in Orcus, the MSA had been quiet, and if she knew the MSA, they would soon figure it out. She and her friends would have to move quickly in transferring the explosives and flying to their secondary location.

  Immediately when the gangway lowered, she dashed toward it, but Shannon must have felt more of an urge because she was up into the ship even more quickly. Parker exchanged brief words with Shannon before he continued down.

  "Parker!" Chloe shouted, elated to see her old friend. "Did everything go okay?"

  "Everything went as planned," he said. "We are back, and we got the explosives."

  "Great," she said, then embraced him. She loved her friend a great deal. He had protected her since Seth’s departure, always making sure she was settled before each of his missions with the Alliance. He was her big brother.

  He welcomed the embrace, and then as quickly as he pulled her in, he pulled away. His face was ashen and weary.

  Chloe tried to probe his mind, but he blocked her somehow. Either that or her return to Orcus had scrambled her brain, leaving her unable to concentrate. Of all the people in the solar system, she thought she would be able to sense Parker’s mind. She had controlled it in their search for the Megacruiser. The kinship remained between the two, a bond that could not break. "What is it?"

  "It’s nothing," he said. "I’m worried about Sarah."

  "She’ll be fine. She’ll bring Terry and the Alliance fleet."

  "She didn’t reply to my messages—"

  "You weren’t supposed to break radio silence."

  "I don’t need this from you, too," he said, firmly. Clearly, Eamonn had spoken to him about it as well.

  "I’m sorry. You did what you thought was best."

  He looked at her again, his face softening. "Did they track the drone ship?"

  "I don’t think so. We’ve been here for over four hours, and the MSA hasn’t sent any patrol ships circling overhead."

  "Satellite surveillance?"

  "And how would I know?" she said, crossing her arms. "The clouds have been thick. We should be okay."

  Parker raised his hands in surrender. "I was just asking."

  Her frustration with the entire events of the long day finally overcame her. She let it all out. "I was shot at. I slung down a zip line. I drove a loadcart like a maniac. And I managed to survive an encounter with Gwen Arwell. Now, I’m in the colony where my family was massacred. Let me be a little edgy, okay?"

  Parker put his hand on her shoulder and nodded.

  She smiled back at him. "Come on. I’ll show you the drone ship."

  Seth had listened to Samantha panting like a dog over his shoulder for the last two hours. Not that he blamed her, because the closet
was stiflingly hot, and the air was thinning. Hoping it filtered enough of it away, he adjusted his breathing mask, making sure it covered his mouth and nose completely.

  Only thirty minutes ago, the shuttle had come to an abrupt halt, and his nerves had tingled ever since. One curious person discovering their hiding spot would ruin the plan. They did have one advantage, however. They could surprise whoever was unfortunate enough to open the door. He felt the barrel of Samantha’s sonic pistol pressing against the side of his shoulder. His hand was around the handle of his holstered pistol.

  He listened.

  The murmurs from the other side of the closet door had ceased. The stillness was as painful as the bustling of boots and voices only moments before. It was time to act, for no other reason than to stop the agony of the dreadful anticipation.

  "I’m going to open the door," Seth whispered.

  "No." Samantha pressed her sonic pistol into his side.

  "We have to leave sometime," he said. "They’re at the transfer ship, loading the explosives. I won’t let them hurt you. I made a promise."

  "Which means nothing to me. You would as soon as have me dead as you would breathe another breath."

  "I’m leaving whether you trust me or not. I won’t spend another minute smelling you. I’m about to eject."

  Samantha pressed the gun hard into his side, forcing a wince out of him. She mulled the comment for a few moments and then retracted the pistol. "I guess we can’t stay in here forever."

  Seth nodded. Slowly, fighting his better judgment, he pressed the release switch for the closet door. It snapped open instantly.

  He drew his pistol and stepped out, sweeping the barrel across the cargo hold. There was no one, and the cargo was gone, as he expected.

  He grinned as Samantha followed closely behind him. She was apprehensive at first, but since he wasn’t shooting, she followed swiftly behind him. She moved toward the gangway at the back of the cargo hold, pressing her body against the hull as a defense against any attacks from below.

  She seemed okay, so Seth peeked down the corridor leading to the cockpit. It was empty as well. He saw no danger and relaxed enough to stand fully erect.