moment the lasers lost the Red Galleon. She saw how they overshot their target and then ceased firing, seeking the missing ship. It had been pure dreadful luck that placed the Red Dawn square in the line of fire. Jess steeled herself to observe the video and saw how the laser had sheared through the Dawn’s wasp-like midsection, cutting the crew off from the bulk of their propulsion rockets. Horrified, she saw Lobster trying what she would have done herself: burning side thrusters in small bursts to turn the crewed half of the vessel back toward Mars and the safety of a lower orbit. But the laser tracked the movement and opened steady fire upon Lobster’s helm. Without the big thrust engines, the Dawn hadn’t stood a chance.
Jess stopped the vid and leaned back in her chair. In saving her own ship, she’d exposed Lobster and his crew. The image of the laser burning through the Red Dawn kept repeating itself in her mind’s eye, a torment never to be forgotten. She rose desperate to go somewhere, but then she realized where she stood—aboard a space-faring vessel confined to quarters. There was no planet-hopper to take her deep into the Marsian desert. And so, kneeling in the center of her quarters, Jess grieved in the manner of her people, moaning tearlessly, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
Harpreet found Jessamyn like this during the hour before evening rations.
“Child,” she said, placing her own strong arms around Jess. “Ah, daughter. We blame the wind when it blows dust upon our windows. But the wind blows for a thousand reasons we cannot name, sparing our neighbor’s windows one day and our own another.”
Jess felt the strong arms surrounding her and curved her head into the embrace.
“Let blame go, daughter. Cast it to the wind to be borne far away.”
Jess pulled back, nodding. “I’ll try.”
“Come and eat, child. Our stomachs are permitted no rest, even though our hearts have broken.”
Together, they rose and joined the other three. Kipper seemed to have calmed herself. No longer accusatory, she greeted Jessamyn with a curt nod.
Over the subdued meal, Kipper addressed the other four crew members. “We have received three transmissions from MCC in the hours since the destruction of our sister ship. The first contained the Red Dawn’s audio log.” Kipper paused. “It appears that once the Galleon was initially struck by laser, Captain LaFontaine determined to draw fire from the Galleon no matter the cost to himself, his ship, or his crew.”
Jessamyn’s heart wrenched. Of course. It made sense. Why else would he leave his entire flank open to fire?
“In doing so, he was following orders given by the Secretary General. In the event that the safety of one ship became compromised, the Red Galleon’s safety was to be held paramount.” Kipper’s eyes rested on the table. “The men and women of the Red Dawn, under orders, sacrificed themselves to give us a chance.”
The Galleon crew sat in silence, digesting the revelation.
Then Kipper spoke again. “In the second transmission, the Secretary General extended solemn congratulations to our crew for having passed into deep space, along with a special commendation of First Officer Jaarda’s bold tactics, without which, and I quote, ‘evidence suggests the Red Galleon would have been lost as well.’”
Jess tried to feel satisfied with the commendation. But she felt only empty. She would never again swap stories with her red-bearded friend. Never again ask him for a vehicle it would have been wiser for him to withhold. She swallowed hard against the lump swelling her throat.
“In the third transmission, the Secretary informed me that while the final decision is hers, MCC is split as to whether or not to recommend the assignment of both missions to our single crew. She added that it will likely be days if not weeks before they are able to agree upon a recommendation.”
Harpreet placed her hands atop the table, bringing her
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