“This is Frontier Red reporting an incident to Luna Command, can anyone respond?” Ross asked while impatiently tapping the top of the console.

“Still nothing?” asked Anya folding her arms. “Not like them to go quiet on us for this long, maybe they’re having tech problems.”

“Or maybe it has something to do with that Morte freak we had to put down.”

“So that’s why they’ve got you badgering Command. How long have you been here for again?”

He raised an eyebrow at the request and began counting on his fingers. “A couple of weeks why?”

“This isn’t our first Mortan, not by a long shot. A couple try to come out here for an easier life. That’s why the scans are so intensive. Helps root them out.”

“Yeah, well something has Chief all antsy.”

“How so?” asked Anya.

“The Mortan degraded at a rate we’ve never seen before. It’s usually a pretty slow process, right? This was instantaneous.”

The crackling from the radio soon ceased and they finally got a response. “This is Luna Command. We have a developing situation here. As such we’ve only just parsed together your recent transmission regarding the recent transport that docked at the Mars base. Are you certain that it was carrying a Mortan?”

“Correct, the crew is being detained. In the meantime, I’ve been tasked with gathering information. I was hoping you guys would have the record of those that were tied to this flight.”

“We can try, but we’re a bit occupied at the moment.”

Anya leaned forward and pressed one side of the headset into her ear.

“What’s happening over there?” asked Ross.

“A lockdown. Most are in the shelters right now. A couple of us remained at our stations though.”

“Well, when you get the chance. I need you to run the call sign BK769 through the system on your end. Just to verify they are who they say they are.”

“How did you deal with the Mortan’s remains?”

“I wasn’t told. I presume the remains were incinerated. I just had to contact you about it.”

“Right, Right. I’ll run some checks and get back to you. Luna Command, out.”

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The headset returned to static and Ross took it off placing it on the console. He looked about ready to pop a blood vessel. “You hear what he said, a lockdown! I need to forward this to the Overseer immediately.”

The newcomers were not too pleased about being forced into lockup but it was for everyone’s safety. Frank was just thankful that only one of the Mortans with them had been exposed. The Deterrent was supposed to hide itself from such scans, I guess not all symbiotes are made the same.

The section of the Martian base they were in was part of the Security Dome. Built into the Martian surface the jail cells they occupied were located underground and numbered only a few. Still the Head of Security, Adam hadn’t seen fit to keep them separated. The journey into the Security Dome had also required numerous, tedious checks. It was all beginning to get tiresome. Frank sat opposite Charles while the pilot, Echo and Melina stood at the back of the cell, resting their backs against the wall.

“Not how I expected it to go,” said Charles scowling.

“At least they haven’t killed us,” said Pyotr.

“Yet,” said Melina shrugging.

“They won’t keep us here, will they?” asked Echo.

“I hope not,” said Eva.

“No, they’ll let us go once they question us, so long as that goes without issue. We’ll be free to roam,” said Frank.

Footsteps soon caught their attention. The Chief of Security was rubbing the back of his neck while flanked by a well-armed escort. “I’ve got people aside to question each of you separately. Provided your stories are consistent, we’ll let you go.”

“Sounds fine to me,” said Frank.

The security glass appeared to dissolve, allowing the group to exit confinement. Once all of them had left, the glass reformed. Another trick they had learned from mysterious benefactors. Adam led them down a long corridor that ended with multiple rooms. The last was reserved for Frank and he was escorted inside by Adam himself.

“Please sit, Captain.”

An icy venom dripped from those words and Frank exhaled before taking a seat. “Something bothering you, Chief.”

“I don’t know, Frank. You tell me.”

“Our manifest is legal by all accounts. We’re affiliates of the Lazarus Foundation. It’s no secret Mortans try their luck out here, away from prying eyes.”

“This is no longer about a rogue Mortan that slipped through the cracks.”

“Then what is it?”

“Luna Command has reported that Lazarus City is in lockdown. We’re having trouble keeping contact and the line's been nothing but static since we asked them to verify you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then you won’t mind me verifying it.”

Frank smiled. “Is my word not enough?”

Adam Cain stood up and rested his big, calloused hands on the table. “In this hour, no. Words mean next to nothing. Words can be dressed in lies, but we have special contingencies for these situations.”

A chill ran down Frank’s spine. What on Earth does he mean?”

“Send ‘im in.”

The door opened and a bald, pale-skinned man entered. The first thing that caught Frank’s attention was the man’s blindness. It felt like the man was looking through him.

“Reginald, would you kindly rend the man before you?”

Frank’s eyes widened. He had seconds to mentally prepare for what came next. A rend? I’ve seen those before, Psions, capable of ripping memories from people, killing them if they have to.

“I thought the Rend was illegal.”

“On Earth, yes.”

“But out here, the only rule that matters. Is the rule of Mars.”