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We're having to make a new injection unit for it.'
    'And if that works will the ship fly?'
    She shrugged. 'We hope so. The helium tank was ruptured, but we've managed to replace that with one of our own, with a few modifications. Dad. I've never killed anyone.'
    'Glad to hear it. Don't you think you have it in you?'
    Fawn got up and paced the tiny room. 'I'm afraid I might freeze in battle. That's all it could take. Just a couple of seconds hesitation and we get shot instead of shooting. You've killed before.'
    'Not as many as people probably imagine I've killed. Three men. All in the line of duty and it was me or them. If you're asking how I live with myself after it, the truth is, I don't. Even though I had no choice, I still feel it deep down in my gut.'
    'You still did it, though. Besides. It was part of what you do.'
    Lance finished off the beer. One was enough for him. 'Yes. Part of what I do, not who I am.  Before you go into battle, not that I think it's likely, concentrate your mind on what you saw on that computer. A little girl, getting cut in half by a laser cannon. She's my motivation.  Just because she didn't look much like you and I, she was still just a kid. I want to take revenge for her. That as much as trying to save our planet.'
    'I'll try to do that.
    'Look. Tomorrow, Breezy and the rest of us are on The Eye, on a training exercise. Come with us. Fire the cannon a few times.'
    'I'm supposed to be helping Skye.'
    Lance said, 'Not much point getting that ship repaired if you can't fire a cannon. We are on an early start. We'll be away four hours tops. You can make up the time when you get back. Talk it over with Skye. She'll understand.'
    'Okay. I'll do that.'
    'On the ship at seven sharp.'
    'Yes, Sir. I'll be there.'

Chapter 21
    'G et you,' said Rocky.
    'Get me what?'
    'You reading a book.'
    Morgan bristled, 'I'm too dumb to read?'
    'No. I meant that thing. A paper thing. You should read a proper book. On the computer.'
    'I do. Now and then. One of the crew had this. Bloody good. Smell this.'
    'Jeez. Like it died or something. I wouldn't even wanna touch it. Who's is she, this Jules Verne?'
    Morgan sighed. 'He, was brilliant. Years ahead of his time. He thought about space travel and other stuff years ago. What do you read?'
    'This and that. I was reading some dude called Shakespeare.  Had to give up on it. You think Craggy speaks weird. Man. That dude was from another planet.'
    Morgan laughed. 'Like us you mean. Craggy told me he was thinking about putting his stories down on the computer. Reckons there's money to be made.'
    'It would definitely be fiction. I'd buy a copy.'
    It was light banter, but it helped to hide their deepest fears. Even if their fears were unfounded, they would forever live under the shadow of the possibility of being attacked. At best, they would be living on a knife's edge, never being able to relax and get on with their lives. Perhaps never bringing up the dreaded subject in normal conversation, and yet the reality of that possibility was deeply entrenched in their minds.
    They would forever be distracted from building their new world, forming a diverse, yet harmonious society. It had been generally accepted that Mars would have no weapons; no need for them. And already, what were they doing? Hurriedly, desperately, putting all their precious energy and resources into the production of deadly weapons. They all knew they were setting a dangerous precedent.
    It was ironic. None wanted weapons, but they knew they couldn't make them fast enough. The very existence of weapons was an abomination. To be reviled and yet accepted as a necessary evil. Weapons such as these had finally been used to kill the Earth. Now they were being hastily created to save Mars. They would be a constant reminder to keep one eye on the skies and be prepared to fight to the death to save the last few human beings.
    Both young pilots knew it would fall on their shoulders to fly into battle against