Chapter Text
Luna orbited Earth some four hundred thousand kilometers away. It was the planet's only natural satellite, holding a distinct and constant trajectory about her since the dawn of time. To look at it from Earth's surface was to think it might be beautiful. It was bright in the reflection of the sun, often changing its hue with the tide, or the season, or the weather. The moon brought a consistency to Earth's climate and, more importantly, controlled the planet's wobble by drawing its axis. Earth needed Luna. As the centuries passed, it needed Luna more and more.
Mankind had first explored the small white marble in the mid twentieth century. Only a hundred years later, humans returned to create the system's first extraterrestrial colony. By the mid twenty-second century, Earth was so overpopulated, it turned to Luna for salvation. With over thirty billion inhabitants, Earth was granted a reprieve when a billion of them settled on the celestial structure. One hundred and fifty years later, it served as a base of operations for the Inner Planetary Alliance, and a way station between the inner planets and the Belt.
The lunar surface was one of the most inhospitable places in the galaxy. Temperatures ranged from below freezing to scalding. It was constantly plagued with a battering of micro meteors. There was no atmosphere to speak of. All these factors drove the colony of Luna underground. Now, the lunar satellite boasted one of the most sophisticated and advanced subterranean networks ever created.
Luna was a hub for interplanetary commerce. It housed headquarters for various corporations as well as universities and industrial complexes. It also served many political purposes, bringing together the politics of Earth, Mars, and factions from the Belt. It was a natural meeting place.
That's what had brought Chrisjen Avasarala to Luna. After her defeat by the slimmest of margins in the election for Secretary General of the United Nations, she and her team were now working with the opposition's transition team, getting them as well prepared as possible for the most impossible job in the system. For Chrisjen, it was her last opportunity to influence the policies of Earth.
She didn't like having to spend a lot of time on Luna. She missed the sun terribly and hated the harsh lighting of the underground housings. The digital displays from the surface did little to alleviate the feeling of isolation that came with not being able to look out a window. Despite the artificial gravity, Chrisjen always felt like she was wasting away somehow. Once you lived in a place with no natural gravity, you quickly realized why Lunars and Belters were so slender, the lack of gravity heavily affecting bone and muscle mass.
Sitting at the vanity in her apartment bedroom, Chrisjen prepared for the day. She put her makeup on absentmindedly, her thoughts anywhere but on the day's agenda. She had been here with her team for weeks now and, though the transition meetings were drawing to a close, Chrisjen found herself overly anxious to be done. After all, there were more important things to get to.
Pulling open a drawer, she sifted through a couple dozen sets of earrings before settling on one. She put them on and inspected herself in the mirror, smoothing her fingers over her hair, which was swept into a long braid and twisted up. She stood and began pulling at the yards of fabric that lay on the floor behind her. Soon her sari was expertly folded and wrapped together. Before heading out of the bedroom, she went over to the bed.
Tugging at the blankets, she made it up quickly. She only needed to fix one side. Glancing to the other side, perfectly intact, Chrisjen sighed slightly. The sun wasn't the only thing she missed terribly. Bobbie Draper had been gone for three weeks, aboard the Rocinante with Holden and crew.
The Roci finally returned to Earth from Ilus and rendezvoused with Chrisjen and Bobbie at Luna only a few days after the election. As Chrisjen, Bobbie, James, Naomi, Amos, and Alex had reunited, the two women shared with the crew their desire to track down Marco Inaros and bring him to justice. They all agreed and began hatching a plan to find him.
Then they had all left on the Rocinante, chasing down leads all over the Sol leaving Chrisjen to deal with politicians. Hopefully, they would be returning soon, though it wouldn't be soon enough for Chrisjen.
The first week had been easy to take. She was busy with the transition and time passed quickly. The second week was more difficult. The empty bed bothered her. She and Bobbie had only been together for a couple months and Chrisjen couldn't believe how quickly she'd gotten accustomed to being held at night. For years, she thought it was stress and pressure that had kept her from sleeping well. Apparently, all she needed was simple affection for a good night's rest. As the days passed, she missed their easy banter and having someone to talk things out with. These last few days had been awful. Chrisjen didn't realize she even had the emotional capacity to miss a person the way she missed Bobbie.
With a frustrated huff, Chrisjen left the bedroom. Her security team would be knocking at the door soon. Snatching up her handheld terminal, she scrolled through various documents she would need that day.
Suddenly, a quiet beep from the wall mounted terminal signaled an incoming message. Glancing to the screen, Chrisjen's expression brightened at seeing Incoming Call from Bobbie Draper. She quickly swiped toward the screen to answer.
Bobbie's face came on the screen and Chrisjen couldn't help the happy smile that came to her lips. At seeing it, Bobbie's own lips quirked into a small smile. It took both women a moment to remember how to speak. They hadn't seen each other's countenances in too many days and they were each content to simply take the other in for a second.
When they did speak, they both spoke at once, mirroring each other's words with, "How are you?" Then both echoing with, "You first."
With a small chuckle, Chrisjen simply asked, "Well?"
"We're all good here, ma'am," Bobbie answered. Something about the more formal title always made Chrisjen feel safe, taking her back to when Bobbie had been one of her bodyguards. She still used it in more professional settings when colleagues were around. "We found some encrypted data that we believe holds the key to Marco's plan." Bobbie tapped a button on her console. "Sending it your way now," she said.
"How did you acquire it?" Chrisjen asked, as her handheld buzzed the data's arrival.
With a closed-lipped grin, Bobbie answered, "The Razorback's new mods have been very helpful. I can't wait to tell you about it."
A little stung, Chrisjen inquired, "Who's been flying with you?" She knew that if Bobbie was using the Razor's modifications, she must have a copilot.
"Alex," she replied, but quickly caught the reason for the question. "Of course, the Razor and I both prefer you in the second chair."
"Good answer," Chrisjen said. "Tell me you're on your way back."
With a nod, Bobbie told her. "Should be docking at Luna day after tomorrow."
Closing her eyes briefly, Chrisjen exhaled a relieved breath. Gazing at Bobbie, she asked, "So, how is my beautiful Martian?"
Eyes dropping down as they always did at that particular compliment, Bobbie tried to hide the flush in her cheeks. Leaning back in her seat and turning her head, as if to be sure she was alone, Bobbie looked back to the screen.
"Missing you," she answered softly.
"Me too."
"How's it going with Gao?"
Chrisjen scoffed. "How can you teach a child to run a fucking planet?" She asked, sarcastic. Not caring about the entire reason she was even on Luna, Chrisjen said, "Fuck Nancy Gao. Tell me more about how you miss me."
Breathing out a small laugh, Bobbie countered with, "How 'bout I show you when I get back."
"Acceptable compromise." Just then, the knock she'd been expecting sounded at Chrisjen's door. "Fuck."
"Time to go?"
With a small nod, she confirmed, "Thank God this is almost over. I can't handle the fucking looks of incompetence much longer."
Another tiny smile and Bobbie said, "I'll let you go." Smile fading, she finished with a serious, almost shy, "I can't wait to see you."
"Me neither."
With a last lingering glance, Bobbie tapped the button to end the transmission. Another knock came at the door.
Her own smile leaving her face, Chrisjen rolled her eyes dramatically. "Hold your goddamned horses!" She shouted.
********************
On the other side of the transmission, Bobbie Draper sank back into her chair, eyes on the now blank screen. She let her head fall back on the headrest and clung to the notion that at least the next time she talked to Chrisjen, it would be in person.
Shifting from her seat, Bobbie moved to exit the Roci's pilot alcove. Pulling herself along through zero G, she made her way to the command deck. They usually had the artificial gravity engaged, but right now they were feeding all the extra power to the thrusters to get to Luna as quickly as possible.
Bobbie floated down the access ladder and found Naomi at the large console in the center of the command deck. She had opened the encrypted data file and was looking over it. Maneuvering her feet to the floor, Bobbie pressed her heels into it, using her mag boots to anchor herself.
Coming up to the opposite side of the console, Bobbie asked, "What can you make of it?"
Naomi shook her head, discouraged. "Absolutely nothing." She looked up at Bobbie. "Avasarala better be able to find someone who can unlock it."
With a single, confident nod, Bobbie confirmed, "She will."
James came up to them. "Opening these files is our only hope of being able to keep up this chase," he said.
With a sigh, Naomi commented, "Seems more and more like it's turning into a wild goose chase." She looked at James. "Did I use that right?"
Holden grinned. "Yes, you used it right."
"What the fuck is a wild goose chase?" Bobbie inquired, annoyed.
Holden began, "It's a saying on Earth, it's when…" He trailed off, noting Bobbie's irritated expression. "Nevermind."
Amos slipped up beside them and looked at Bobbie. "Did you tell her we'd be there in a couple days?"
With a roll of her eyes, Bobbie nodded. "Yes, and she said she was very much looking forward to seeing you."
He smiled happily. "She did?"
He was met with a chorus of groans to which Holden answered, "I have a feeling she was being sarcastic."
Amos looked at Bobbie, who simply raised her eyebrows at him. Messing with her, he said, "I think she likes me."
"Yeah, well, she likes me more."
He held up the wrench that was in his hand. He'd come up from the engine room. Pointing it at her, he said, "Not when she sees what you did to the Razor's exterior."
Bobbie breathed out a slow breath and agreed with a hesitant, "Yeah."
It wasn't too much damage, a scrape really. You probably wouldn't even have noticed on the old paint job. But with the new black matte stealth finish, it stood out like a black hole, not to mention it compromised the technology. Amos was right, Chrisjen wouldn't be happy. It had become obvious when Bobbie had been preparing to leave in it with the Rocinante that the older woman had become quite fond of the little pinnace.
The ship's tiny wound had happened when Bobbie and Alex got the Razorback just a hair too close to it's target. They hadn't had a choice. In the weeks they'd been chasing Marco, they had realized that one of his favored methods of avoiding detection was disguising old ships as new ones, like he'd done with the Sojourner.
Following the trail of breadcrumbs they still weren't sure whether he was leaving on purpose or not had led them to an old freighter. The call sign said one thing, but to confirm if it truly was said boat required they check the paint job.
Bobbie had pulled the Razor so close, her heart had been pounding out of her chest. At that proximity, a railgun would've torn the small boat to bits. Thankfully the Martian stealth tech was perfect and they went completely undetected. She had finessed the controls to the best of her ability so that they hovered alongside the vessel. It had only taken a second to see the scraped off paint underneath the new call sign. It had, indeed, been one of Marco's vessels. Unfortunately, pulling away from the boat hadn't proved as smooth and Bobbie had nudged the Razor a little too close to an overhanging panel. The metal scraping sound made her stomach sick.
However, they had discovered they were on the track, and they had been for weeks. Finally, they had encountered an abandoned ship of Marco's and had pulled the encrypted data package off it. It had been left as if waiting for someone and the crew had debated whether or not to take it. If someone were to come looking and it was gone, it might arouse suspicion. But the intel on it could be incredibly valuable. Bobbie had every confidence that, with all her connections, Chrisjen could find a way to unlock it.
As the crew dispersed back to their individual tasks, stepping away from the command deck's center console, Bobbie checked the time for the hundredth time. Less than forty-eight hours and she'd be back with the woman she never should've left in the first place. She'd been promising herself since she flew away from Luna that it would be the last time she left Chrisjen's side.
********************
Meanwhile, back on Luna, Chrisjen and her team were making their way to one of the last meetings that would transition the leadership of the UN from Chrisjen Avasarala to Nancy Gao.
Chrisjen's feelings were mixed. This had been one of the most humbling and hard experiences she'd had in her professional life. Every bit of it cut deep. Every smug look from the other team, every time someone shot down one of her aide's recommendations, each time they discussed policy and Chrisjen practically had to pull out a textbook to show them how the ins and outs of politics or the economy or interplanetary alliance worked, Chrisjen felt a rage boiling in her at the stupidity of whatever idiots had voted for these people.
On the other hand, she remembered being inexperienced and too cocky for her own good too. Hell, she still was. It was her duty to see to it that this new leadership was as well equipped as possible. She would see to it no matter how much it tried her patience.
She and her entourage moved through the maze of corridors and levels that made up Luna's underground network. There were a dozen security team members flanking them, all radioing information back at the appropriate time. Doors and corners, after all. Caleb Ghazi remained by her side at all times when they moved through Luna's massive belly. He'd made it clear that being locked in the underground made him nervous. He and his team had been on high alert every minute of every day for weeks on end now.
Soon, they came out into a large concourse, one they covered every morning on their way to the conference hall. People moved all about, heading to work, or coming home from work. Caleb spoke into the radio at his wrist every once in a while, instructing the team to keep the way ahead of them clear.
Chrisjen tapped away at her handheld device while they went, checking messages and allowing Caleb to direct her. They had both grown accustomed to this dance. She was always looking at her console. There was always a message to reply to or a paper to read or a call to answer. Chrisjen would simply walk straight ahead while engaged in her work. Caleb, always vigilant, would take her arm and pull her back into line with the rest of the team. When they made a turn down a hall or walkway, he would put a hand on her ribcage and push her where she needed to go. It was familiar and comfortable to Chrisjen. She never questioned him. She just allowed herself to be led. She trusted him.
So, when he wrapped his fingers tightly around her upper arm, almost painfully, and yanked her to a stop, her gaze popped up to see him watching a certain direction. The whole team was brought to a stand still. Her eyes followed his and she stole the briefest glance of a slender man dressed in a black jumpsuit. She narrowed her eyes as he disappeared.
Quietly, she asked, "Was that an OPA uniform?"
Without answering, he spoke into the device at his wrist. "Let's alter course," he said. "Secure this corridor to the right, and hurry, I don't like being out in the open like this."
He moved Chrisjen, her aides, and the few military personnel with them toward the new route. Chrisjen looked all around, her senses coming to life with a slight rush in adrenaline. Caleb still had a firm grip on her arm and it disquieted her. She looked to one of the upper levels, her eyes immediately drawn to another black jumpsuit.
"Ghazi," she said.
He looked up. "Yeah, I got him." He started walking faster. "Secure the fucking passageway," he said into the comm.
"What's happening?" Chrisjen asked, becoming increasingly uneasy, her heart rate beginning to quicken.
"Something doesn't feel right," was his only response. After all they'd been through together, she trusted his instincts.
As the large group drew closer to a set of doors that would lead them out of the much too busy concourse, it was suddenly cut off by two men in Outer Planet Alliance uniforms. Chrisjen was confused, but she couldn't place exactly why. Why would the OPA be here? They all stopped moving and Caleb carefully pulled Chrisjen behind him, putting himself between her and the would be offenders. He reached for his sidearm.
All the sudden, everything moved in slow motion as Chrisjen's brain processed what happened next. The two OPA men unzipped their flight suits to reveal vests rigged with explosives. Chrisjen's eyes widened. She looked back to the man she'd seen at the second floor railing above them. He too had opened his uniform and donned another explosive vest. All three pulled a small device from their pockets.
The next thing she knew, Caleb's strong body was enveloping her, pushing her backward. The loudest sound she'd ever heard boomed in her ears. She closed her eyes against the brightness.
The force of the blast knocked Chrisjen off her feet and blew her several yards away. Heat covered her body as the shockwave tore through her. She felt it in every pore of her being, a shuttering vibration that threatened to break her apart from within. When she hit the ground, she hit solidly, bouncing off the hard tile and rolling until she smashed into a nearby column. She lay still, unable to move.
Sucking in a breath, dust invaded Chrisjen's lungs and she coughed violently. The ringing in her ears was disorienting. She was dizzy and couldn't get her bearings. As she tried to open her eyes, they only closed again involuntarily against the wooziness.
Then came the pain. Chrisjen cried out as she tried to put weight on one shoulder in a misguided attempt to stand. The shoulder didn't work at all and leaning on it proved excruciating. The burning sensation in her ribs signaled unmistakable cracked bones. As her brain reconnected to her body, every single breath became painful and labored. She tasted blood, but it somehow seemed like the least of her worries.
Struggling to move, Chrisjen forced her eyes open. The scene was horrific. Bodies were strewn all about the concourse, some moving and struggling like her, most completely still. The second floor was gone on one side, leaving a gaping hole in the facility that opened straight into lunar rock. Massive chunks of debris were everywhere and Chrisjen could see that some people had been crushed underneath them. Fire burned in a few isolated pockets.
Peering through the white dust, Chrisjen searched for Caleb. Screams of the injured started sounding around the open space, though she could barely hear them through the unceasing ring in her head. Ignoring the chilling sounds, Chrisjen groaned loudly with the effort to crawl across the floor. Everything hurt. She could feel her skin being cut by shards of glass as she moved, but she couldn't see the pieces to move them away through the layer of dust that was forming on the floor.
Finally, she made it the several meters to where Caleb lay unresponsive. "Ghazi," she breathed out, coughing with the effort of speaking. He didn't move. With the last of her strength, Chrisjen beat her two fists against his chest one time, willing him to answer when she repeated more strongly, "Ghazi!"
The dizziness and pain overtook her senses. Vision blurring, Chrisjen collapsed across Caleb's chest.