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  The stern ramp lowered from the Eclipse, and Rivers moved the boxy shuttle out of the bay and into open space before igniting ion thrusters, propelling the shuttle forward.

  Ahead of them was nothing but blue. The enormous planet loomed in front of them with so much beautiful allure it was almost impossible to fathom the worse than Antarctic-like conditions below.

  While ahead Neptune awaited them; surrounding them was nothing but cold, black space.

  Meyers involuntarily shivered. A premonition passed through her mind. She closed her eyes against it, figuring if she did not acknowledge the foreboding feeling she felt, maybe she could wish it away instead.

  Chapter Four

  Aboard the Cutlass

  On the moon Larissa / Neptune VII

  Loud music piped through strategically placed speakers filled the Cutlass. Heavy rock with deep bass would rattle the walls if they weren’t made of steel. The inside of the ship was dark except for the red glow from the auxiliary lights. All systems, except life support, were in standby. The idea was to go undetected while perched on the odd, oblong-shaped moon.

  The Cutlass, built for speed and maneuverability, could turn on a dime, was equipped with a modified cloaking feature, and could hit hyper speed with a moment’s notice—as long as a course had been charted out first. The last thing a pilot wanted was to pop out of hyper speed in the middle of an asteroid field, or worse, popping directly into where a planet already filled the said space. Simple physics told even nonscientific-minded people who would win in that kind of king-of-the-hill round.

  Erinne Cohn enjoyed her position on the Cutlass. The hours were long, the work was dirty, and the rewards near non-existent. None of that mattered. She loved the small crew and the excitement that filled her as they embarked on dangerous mission after dangerous mission. She could not help but consider herself an explorer. Each day brought something new. She was not stuck on the sidelines working eight-hour shifts in some office, or in some manufacturing plant stuck on a mindless assembly line where robots were her peers.

  Traversing the galaxy was where it was at, and nothing could be better. Nothing.

  When her display detected motion from just beyond Neptune’s thin rings, she spoke into the comlink on her wrist. “D’Rukker, we have movement from the Eclipse.” She sat at the controls, leaned forward in her seat, and punched in the ship’s startup sequence, readying her for launch. Her metallic left arm and robotic hand did not interfere with the smoothness of her performance. She took pride in that and knew the respect she received from the others on board was respect she had earned.

  The cockpit door swooshed open.

  A large, dark-skinned man ducked his head as he entered. Aroldis D’Rukker wore a faded olive-green tank top, showing off rounded shoulders and lined abs that revealed muscles Erinne did not even know existed over one’s stomach. His skin was covered in pink scars. They were knife wounds from not that long ago. He’d been held prisoner on another salvage ship and was tortured for weeks before escaping. It was all Erinne knew, all he’d shared. She never pressed for more. When he was ready to talk about what happened, what led up to his getting captured, she’d listen. Until then, his past was just that. His past.

  D’Rukker wiped sweat away from his brow with a swipe of a forearm as he set down a wrench on the floor near the co-pilot seat. D’Rukker belted himself in beside Erinne. “What do we have?”

  “Looks like a standard shuttle. Just launched from the belly of the Eclipse,” she said. “I’ve restarted systems. Cloaking shield up. Shouldn’t be able to detect us while we are still perched on this moon.”

  “We’ve done nothing wrong, Erinne. Just, like them, we’re merely responding to a distress call. Hardly a crime, good Samaritans that we are.” His deep voice made everything he said come out with a ring of genuine conviction. The arched eyebrow was the only hint of sarcasm, that and the way he half-smiled at her.

  “Wait. What’s that?” Erinne pointed at the radar where blips appeared around the shuttle.

  “Armed escort. Starfighters, more than likely. Standard procedure, I guess,” D’Rukker said. “Tell you what. Why don’t we hang on the moon for a little bit longer? Give them some time to see what’s what before we move. There really isn’t a rush. Not at this point.”

  She knew the starfighters gave D’Rukker pause. With good reason. She felt the same. Following a shuttle down to Neptune’s surface was one thing if the shuttle was unprotected—not that they expected or planned on starting any kind of trouble, but going in when starfighters circled the shuttle probably wasn’t the brightest idea. It didn’t matter that there were only four starfighters. The Cutlass would have no trouble in a fight against them. Thing was, no one knew how many more starfighters sat inside the belly of the Eclipse. Hard to get into a fight when you didn’t know exactly what kind of resources your enemy possessed. The Eclipse was a new ship, and therefore it was something of an unknown. Far safer to wait and see how things played out. “Last thing we need is one of them radioing back to one of the Way Stations a description of the Cutlass. We’re simple scavengers. We need to keep it that way. Makes our work easier staying under the radar, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Agree completely.” Erinne powered down the Cutlass once again. “Think they’re going in to retrieve the people?”

  “Can’t say for sure. Haven’t picked up any actual transmissions.” D’Rukker sat back in the seat, arms up, hands clasped together behind his head. He looked tired. Dark bags cupped the bottoms of his eyes. “Keep hearing the Eclipse trying to make contact.”

  “Heard that. Nothing from the planet, though. No response.” She wondered if there was anyone still alive on Neptune’s surface. And if they were all dead she couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened to them.

  “Could be dead.” He shrugged his shoulders, and his exposed biceps bulged with the motion. “Either way, right? Doesn’t really change anything far as we’re concerned.”

  He left the rest unspoken. It was common knowledge Euphoric Enterprises was mining Neptune for diamonds. The rare gems extracted from just below the surface were stronger than terra-extracted diamonds. Neptune’s diamonds were not for rings and jewelry. E.E. used the precious gems for creating drill bits that could be used for other mining expeditions on other planets within their solar system. But that did not mean the stones weren’t valuable. They were. Quite priceless, actually.

  Chapter Five

  Open Space

  Between the Eclipse and Neptune Atmosphere

  “Beta Leader to shuttle: Beta Squad falling into formation,” Captain Stanton said as his team dropped out from the belly of Eclipse. The four starfighters flanked either side of the shuttle, two per side—two in front, two behind.

  The starfighters adopted the sleek look of the ancient American Stealth Bomber design. Triangularly shaped and flat. The hard steel and titanium construction was coated in Kevlar, strengthening and protecting the ship, making it virtually puncture resistant. The outboard and inboard elevons and split rudders allowed the ship to roll, climb, and descend with sharp, agile turns. Stanton loved his fighter. It was by far his favorite ship to pilot. “Standby for roll call. Beta Leader to Red One?”

  “Red One, over,” Lieutenant Angela Ruiz said.

  “Beta Leader to Red Two?”

  “Red Two, over,” Lieutenant Robert Reilly said.

  “Beta Leader to Red Three?”

  Lieutenant Jane Cornwell said, “Red Three, over.”

  “Beta Leader to shuttle?”

  Captain Rivers answered. “Shuttle here, Beta Leader. Go ahead.”

  “Squad is in position. Ready to roll. Atmosphere breach dead ahead. Over.”

  “Roger that, Squad Leader.”

  Stanton always preferred the view of Earth from either Nebula or Nova. Didn’t matter. Each of the Way Stations gave a unique perspective of the planet. There was no denying Earth looked beautiful from the stations, either. It had been over a de
cade since he’d been on the plane. E.E. required employees to live on Nebula, as Nova was something of a competitor. He was often dispatched on an assignment at a moment’s notice, so spending time on Earth didn’t make much sense. Time off was limited, but he considered maybe vacationing in New Zealand at some point.

  Other than homesickness, there wasn’t much need to return to Earth. There was no one there for him. His family was gone. The memories of Earth were far better than the realities. The wars had ruined most everything beautiful down there. The oceans beyond polluted, the death and decay rampant, contagious. If anything, he was thankful E.E. had hired him, that he’d escaped to space and that he had a life worth living. The road he’d been on when on-planet would have gotten him jailed, or worse, dead.

  “Tight formation.” Stanton eyed his control panel. Systems checked out. He didn’t expect trouble. Didn’t mean he wasn’t ready for it. He was. His crew was top notch. Gentle reminders, a word to nudge here and there reminded them to remain on alert during an escort despite the unlikelihood of an ambush or attack was still essential. Lives depended on them always being on the ready. Those inside the shuttle were defenseless. There was a bow and stern gun, and Alpha Squad was more than capable of using the weapons; the problem was with the shuttle itself. It was slow, sluggish, and moved like a cardboard box.

  “Red One to Beta Leader,” Angela Ruiz called out.

  “Go ahead, Red One.”

  Static. Hiss. Squawk. “Thought I caught a blip on radar, Captain.”

  Ruiz was an outstanding pilot. Confident. Although it was not official, she was more or less his right hand. Getting half of the things he got done could not have been accomplished without her help. She did not just understand the theory of flying, she knew nearly every nut and bolt within an array of starfighters. It would not surprise him if she could dismantle and put back together an entire ship blindfolded.

  Stanton looked at the sweeping arm on his radar panel. He saw the Eclipse. Some moons. The shuttle. And their squad. “Not seeing anything, Red One.”

  “It was by the moon. Eight o’clock. It is gone now, Captain. Like I said, it was just a blip. There one sweep, gone the next.”

  Stanton re-checked the radar. There was no activity. Nothing. “Might have been an asteroid,” he said, but thought more than likely it was a malfunction the Eclipse mechanic, Officer Mandy Kadera, would have to check on when they returned. He let his eyes roam across open space. Aside from the distant sun at their back, black darkness enveloped him, them. It oftentimes played tricks on the mind. While he actually saw only infinity before him, it felt more like the space was closing in on his ship. Crushing it.

  Within moments the lights inside the small fighter cockpit seemed dim when compared with the bright blueness of the planet in front of them. Stanton’s warning lights flashed. “Beta Squad,” he called over the air. “Planet’s atmosphere ahead. Reset warnings. Ignite heat shields for entry on my count. Four. Three. Two. And heat shields on.” Switches flipped. Buttons pushed. “Shuttle, copy?”

  Captain Rivers said, “Shuttle copies. Heat shields ignited for atmospheric entry. We are a-go. Over.”

  High heat caused what was known as a bow wave. It resembled the shield a gladiator or Viking warrior carried into a fight. Only, the bow wave arced across the nose of a craft. Stanton loved the shake and heat and excitement of racing through a planet’s atmosphere. Hypersonic speeds caused the strong shock wave. Traveling only at Mach 5—because they wanted the shuttle keeping up—the atmosphere rapidly compressed; the 6000 k gas impinged on the front of the starfighter, transferring heat to the surface. The result was a hypnotic fiery red and orange curling across and below and around the bow, as if threatening to disintegrate the entire ship, him included, in the blink of an eye.

  The force made his cheeks flap and eyelids flutter. He ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the yoke. People lost consciousness at speeds like this, in ships like his starfighter, or on something like the shuttle. Even in training, Stanton had never blacked out. The pressure built inside his skull, and he knew he came close but he held on, kept awake, and exhaled once safely through.

  ______

  First Officer Mark Windsor remained on the bridge of the Eclipse. From the front porthole, he watched the starfighters and shuttle breach the atmosphere. With all coms monitored, the crew on the bridge listened to the conversation between ships, followed by an uneasy silence when they awaited the announcement of a successful landing.

  Communications Specialist, Officer Nathaniel Gaines, turned away from his workstation. “Sir, we’re receiving a call from Euphoric’s home base on Nebula. Shall I connect?”

  “Transfer the call to the porthole.” Windsor walked across the bridge, closer to the tempered and forged glass before it crystallized, and then became defined. The video conference call revealed a man in an expensive suit. Tie. Gold-rimmed glasses. Windsor did not recognize the person. Not uncommon, since E.E. employed nearly one hundred thousand people. Standing rigid, hands clasped together behind his back, Windsor introduced himself. “This is First Officer Mark Windsor of the Eclipse.”

  “Officer Windsor, I am Crispin Gunther, the Neptune Mission liaison. I’d like to speak with Commander Meyers, please.”

  Windsor wondered if Gunther was the liaison for the mining mission on Neptune or just their recon mission. He supposed it didn’t really matter right then. “Mr. Gunther, the commander is escorting the shuttle onto the planet surface. They just passed the atmosphere. Should be landing by the colony shortly, sir.”

  Crispin Gunther gave a slight nod. “And you’re in control, Officer Windsor?”

  “I have command of the Eclipse. Yes, sir.”

  “Has there been any communication between the colony and Eclipse?”

  “Not yet, sir. We are continually reaching out to them, hoping someone will answer.” It didn’t seem likely, though. After all of this time, no one had heard from the colony. There was only the constant of the activated distress beacon. It didn’t look promising for the colonists. That, however, was the point of the mission. Investigate the alarm and ensure the colonists were okay. Everyone hoped it was a mere malfunction. Computer error. Maybe those inside the colony weren’t even aware a distress signal was strobing.

  Again, not promising, but possible. Remaining optimistic was key, Commander Anara Meyers continually stressed.

  “We have put together an addendum to your mission. Information has been sent to the system. Please ensure your commander receives the delivered instructions. Because she is occupied on the planet, we will go ahead and assume everything’s a-go, unless we hear differently.” His eye twitched, as if he was not pleased learning the commander had tagged along on the surface portion of the mission. Windsor couldn’t argue the point. “Is that understood, First Officer?”

  “An addendum?”

  “Altered the primary. Understood?”

  “Clear,” Windsor said, his curiosity piqued. He fidgeted, anxious about reading the revisions. “I will get the data to the commander as soon as the shuttle lands.”

  “I won’t expect to hear back from you unless there is some unforeseeable issue, understood, First Officer?”

  Windsor did not like this guy. He could not help wondering if Crispin had spoken to his commander the same way. Would Meyers put up with someone like this suit? Windsor could not imagine Meyers taking attitude from anyone. Ever. “Understood, sir.”

  The screen went white. Black. The crystallized screen vanished, and once again Neptune came into view, and became clear, and focused.

  Windsor could not see the shuttle, or the starfighter escort.

  Wouldn’t be long before the ships landed.

  “Officer Gaines?”

  “Aye.”

  “Have we received documentation from Euphoric?”

  “Aye, we have, sir.” Gains tapped the screen in front of him. “Sealed. Confidential, sir.”

  Windsor went to the commander’s chair b
ehind Conn Officer Bachand who manned the flight control panels responsible for flying their vessel. “Send it to my screen, please.”

  Swiveling the monitor arm around, Windsor leaned forward and touched buttons on the screen, opening the message from Euphoric. It was addressed to Commander Anara Meyers. By rights, he should forward the revision directly to the commander. He was in charge of the Eclipse; however, and as the acting-commander, he needed to know what was contained in the memo. The information might have been meant for her eyes only, but in the current situation he knew he had a legal right reading the revised documentation.

  Rationalization complete, Windsor tapped the screen. The electronic document opened. He scanned the document first, and then read through it more thoroughly a second time. His breath caught in his chest.

  It couldn’t be right.

  Euphoric couldn’t be asking them to do this.

  Commander Meyers would never agree to this!

  “Sir?” Officer Gaines stood at his position.

  Windsor looked up, distracted. “Yes?”

  “The shuttle, Squad Beta—they’re headed into a storm.” Gaines kept a hand on the face of his controls. His eyes darted back to the monitor. “It is a blizzard with terrible force. Winds on the planet shifted. Storm wasn’t anywhere near the colony when the ships launched. We couldn’t have known ahead of time when making the calculations, sir.”

  “How soon until they land? How close are they to the colony docking area?”