Eagle Station

Sky Masters technicians had converted one of the company’s conference rooms into a miniature replica of the Space Force mission control room at Peterson Air Force Base. Computer displays echoed the telemetry and video received from the spacecraft on its way to the moon. And secure communications gear allowed those present to monitor all transmissions between the crew and ground controllers. For the duration of the S-29B’s lunar reconnaissance mission, this room would be manned around the clock by Sky Masters and Scion personnel — ready to offer technical assistance or tactical expertise as needed.

From his station, Brad McLanahan listened to Dusty Miller and Hannah Craig sign off from their S-29 Shadow out in cislunar space. With a frustrated sigh, he slipped off his headset. Then he frowned. “Man, I hate this.”

“Hate what?” Nadia asked quietly.

“Just sitting here doing nothing, and watching other people take all the risks.”

Patrick McLanahan nodded sympathetically. “Welcome to the higher echelons of command, son,” he said. “The ones where other men and women put their lives on the line carrying out your plans or following your orders.”

“Does it ever get any easier?” Brad asked.

“No, it really doesn’t,” his father said simply. He shrugged. “Which is why I did everything I could to make sure I still flew combat missions myself.” Then, with a twisted smile, he tapped the metal LEAF exoskeleton that helped keep him alive. “Given how I ended up in this semi-robotic hunk of junk, that was probably for a lot longer than I should have.”

Brad nodded grimly, remembering the horrifying moment when a Chinese fighter jet’s 30mm cannon shells riddled the bomber he and his father were flying. But as bad as that had been, at least they’d been together, sharing the same risks. Sitting safely on the ground like this, hundreds of thousands of miles from the action, still felt deeply wrong somehow.

“Colonel Miller and Major Craig are very competent,” Nadia said softly, offering what comfort she could.

“Yeah, I know,” Brad said. “And if it comes down to it, General Kelleher was right when he pushed to make this a Space Force mission. They’ve got way more hours of advanced combat training in those spaceplanes than we do.” His gaze shifted back to one of the displays. It depicted the S-29B’s projected path as it curved away from Earth — heading toward the point in space where the moon would be in roughly seventy hours. His jaw tightened. “But I also wish we weren’t in a position where we have to bet everything on one roll of the dice.”

“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” his father said. “That’s why I’ve had a team going through everything in the Sky Masters inventory — including prototypes, whether they’ve ever been flown or not — looking for any other space hardware that could give us another way to get to the moon… if we need one.”

Brad looked hard at him. Ever since he was old enough to notice, he’d realized that his father had a habit of playing his cards close to his chest — keeping everyone else at a distance while he worked out his own plans. “You sure kept that pretty quiet, Dad.”

His father shrugged again. “It seemed like a long shot. Plus, I didn’t want to distract anyone from the mission prep for Miller and Craig’s recon flight. In most ways, that’s still our best option.”

“So did your team find something?” Nadia asked sharply.

“Possibly,” Patrick said cautiously. “Originally, it was a piece of civilian space technology we thought might come in handy for a Sky Masters bid on part of the president’s lunar helium-3 mining operation.”

“And now?” Nadia demanded.

Patrick smiled at her. “Now we think this equipment could be just what we need. Well, after some serious, and seriously expensive, modifications, anyway.”

Brad pushed back his chair and stood up. Beside him, Nadia did the same. “Okay, Dad,” he told his father. “Let’s go see this rabbit you think your guys just pulled out of the hat.”

Korolev Base, on the Far Side of the Moon

That Same Time

Colonel Kirill Lavrentyev stared at the split-screen images of Marshal Leonov and President Li Jun in disbelief. “The Americans are doing what?”

“One of their armed spaceplanes is now headed toward lunar orbit,” Leonov repeated patiently. “Based on its current speed and trajectory, it will reach the moon in something under three Earth days.”

Colonel Tian Fan leaned in beside his Russian counterpart. “Do we know yet what combat capabilities they have sacrificed to make this long-range mission possible?”

“An excellent question, Tian,” Li said in satisfaction. He nodded to someone offscreen and his image disappeared, replaced by a grainy picture of the winged American spacecraft. “Our ground-based telescopes were able to take several photographs before the American S-29 moved out of range.”