Free Heaven's Shadow by David S. Goyer, Michael Cassutt

mission—again, on the shortest notice possible—she is going to drive the training teams batshit with questions and more questions and you don’t have time for that. She’s on the team, but not as commander.
    “I’m the guy. I know both spacecraft well enough to be backup to Tea for Destiny and Pogo for Venture . I’ve got as much EVA time as Yvonne. And there is no one at the center, much less the office, who is more familiar with Keanu than me.
    “Your predecessor and the ninth floor and HQ thought I was capable enough to be trusted with the first lunar landing of the twenty-first century. Are you going to sit here and tell me I can’t handle this?”
    “There’s still a looming question,” Weldon said, apparently agreeing with Zack’s impassioned points. “Your family situation. What will Rachel think?”
    Since his conversation with Harley, Zack had not devoted much thought to Rachel . . . he needed no special insight to predict what she would think, and say. “She’ll like the idea for a week, then she’ll hate it. How will that be different from any other astronaut family? She’ll deal. It’s my decision. My goal. My mission.”
    Weldon stared for five seconds. Then he offered his hand. “Congratulations, Commander Stewart. Destiny-7 is yours.”
    Zack could only nod. He had had magical moments in his life— telling Megan that he was in love with her, not knowing whether she felt the same . . . the birth of Rachel . . . the call from NASA asking him if he was still interested in becoming an astronaut—
    “Know what your real challenge is going to be?”
    Zack could think of many sudden, terrifying challenges. The training. Rachel. “What?”
    “Telling your girlfriend that you snaked her command.”

Go Destiny-7 ! Go USA!!!!
    TYPICAL POST IN THE CHEERLEADING THREAD AT NEOMISSION.COM
     
    Grow up. You wouldn’t be there without the Coalition.
    POSTER BRAHMA FAN, SAME THREAD
    KEANU STAY
    “Thank God we’ve got the airlock,” Pogo said, his face red from the torturous business of getting Zack’s and Yvonne’s suits ready for the EVA, a job that involved swapping out the torsos, gloves, and boots. The only surprise in the comment was that it came from Col. Patrick Downey, USAF, normally a hairshirt stoic on matters of space and livability. Zack, Yvonne, and Tea had spent two hours grunting and cursing as they executed the maneuvers necessary to eat, clean up, use the toilet, and get Zack and Yvonne suited for the first steps onto Keanu’s surface. Items had to be removed from lockers, used, then replaced—or the debris stashed in a different locker. “This is like a clown car,” Pogo snapped, clearly at his limit. “And what the fuck is this? Yvonne?”
    He had a silvery box in his hand labeled HALL PPK , Personal Preference Kit, the collection of college banners, family photos, commemorative stamps, and other memorabilia astronauts were allowed to carry on flights—as long as they didn’t exceed a kilogram or two of mass.
    “I hope that isn’t filled with good-luck coins or doodads,” Tea said, teasing. Early astronauts had gotten into trouble for sneaking memorabilia aboard their vehicles.
    “It’s all within limits,” Yvonne replied, clearly stung.
    “What it is, is in the wrong locker,” Zack said, taking it from Patrick and handing it to Yvonne. “20-B is where the PPKs go.”
    He slid between Patrick and Yvonne and entered the airlock. The chamber was almost as big as the cabin itself. On the day—hopefully a week from now—when Zack and his crew climbed into Venture to launch off Keanu’s surface, it would be left behind, along with the rest of the descent stage of the vehicle. But right now it was serving as a dressing room, where Tea waited, holding Zack’s helmet for the final stage of his suiting. “Oooo, Commander Stewart,” she purred in a fairly good imitation of some movie sex kitten, “I’d much rather be undressing you . . .”
    “We’ve still got