The briefcase held the tickets. The tickets had the coordinates. That's how Logan found himself snaking down a back county road on the edge of the county, following the map carefully to what looked like nowhere. But as the trees cleared slightly, he spotted others' abandoned vehicles left in between the trees. Logan pulled off the road into an opening between two thick-branched trees, turned off the SUV, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Grabbing the briefcase and map from the passenger seat, he was about to shove the keys into the case, but then realized he wouldn't be back for the car.

"Fuck it."

Logan opened the door and dropped the keys on the ground. Let the unfortunate bastard who found this vehicle have one last joy ride. Maybe it would give someone someplace safe to sleep for a night. Or maybe it would get obliterated by the meteorite along with everything else.

He stepped out of the vehicle and walked around the back to pop open the hatch, grabbing his backpack and one suitcase. There was a panic to his packing, and now he regretted some choices. Did he really need two boxes of condoms? What the hell was he thinking? He packed those but forgot a toothbrush and toothpaste. Clearly, flight mode was not his forte as much as fight.

Pausing, he cupped his hand over his leather jacket, clenching his forearm over Aaron's skin underneath the layers. He decided to pretend it was an accident. Aaron had trained him his entire life to lie about his wounds—why stop now? So he washed the skin, wrapped it tightly around his, secured it with medical tape and then wrapped gauze around the bottom and top to hide his own skin. When he rolled up his sleeve, he would claim an accident—burnt from a barbecue flare-up. Sounded plausible. Upon investigation, there was no name on the ticket—just a corresponding barcode and Logan began to wonder if Aaron got this opportunity through some black market connection.

In the distance, he noticed a family—two adults and three kids—weaving through the cars and then suddenly vanishing before the horizon. Glancing at the map, he started to walk through the trees and cars, toward where the family had disappeared. The only noise was the crunching of his footsteps on the forest floor. Sure enough, near another small clearing, a small grass-covered archway led to a ramp moving down into the ground.

A shudder of fear and anticipation ran through him. Pausing, Logan closed his eyes, breathing in the crisp evening air. The pure oxygen, mixed with the minty tinge of pine needles made his head momentarily spin. When he opened his eyes to the sky, he wondered what was worse—dying on Earth or up among the stars? Maybe among the stars, he would be halfway closer to his mother. He hoped it would be quicker than what they had predicted for Earth.

With one last shaky breath, Logan fixed his gaze on the entrance. Or exit, depending on your point of view. He walked onwards, down into the tunnel, continuing into the low-lit hallway. The voices of the family in front of him echoed, and it soothed him. There would be children. It couldn't crash. The folly of God would surely protect these kids. He pushed aside the idea of the millions of others that were about to be left behind.

At the end of the tunnel were three figures in navy blue uniforms and berets, speaking with the family. The family nodded at them, taking some papers before a loud beeping filled the air. The wall in front of them slid to the side, and the five people scurried through before it closed. Logan's heart sped up with anxiety and fear as he proceeded. All three guards had semiautomatic weapons strapped to them. The short one had her back to him, but he could tell she was female from the blond bun set at her nape and the curves of her uniformed body next to the two taller, burly men. One of them nodded to her, and she spun around to greet Logan. Instantly, her smile morphed into shock, and he stopped, his breath catching in his chest.

Veronica Fucking Mars.

Clearing her throat, she shoved her hand at him and barked, "Papers!"

He jumped a bit at the authority in her voice, and it took him a second to shove the map into the briefcase and extract his ticket. When he did, she snatched it from his hand, frowning at it for a second before taking out some type of small wand and waving over it. The fluorescent light from the wand illuminated a pattern of strange markings on his ticket.

"Not forged. Let's see your arm, passenger N0463."

Carefully, he put down the briefcase and backpack and pulled off his jacket. Veronica kept a trained eye on him, and he noted she looked at him almost exactly like Sheriff Mars looked when he was interrogating him about Lilly's death, always looking for clues—emotionally removed. Damn cold.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he murmured his lie. "Had an accident with the barbecue. Thankfully the tattoo wasn't singed."

He revealed just enough, and Veronica stepped closer. When her hand reached out to touch him, he willed every muscle in his body not to jump back in horror and shock. Her fingers grazed the tattoo, and even though she was touching Aaron's skin, he swore he could feel her touch him and he shuddered. Her steely blue eyes met Logan's and held his gaze for a split second, as if sizing him up, before refocusing on her task. Pulling another plastic wand from her belt, she ran the red light over his tattoo, and it gave a little beep, then the light turned green.

Slowly he let out a shaky breath, and she smirked at him before turning on her heel to one of the other guards. He handed her a stack of papers, and she nodded, turning back to Logan and shoving them in his direction.

"Welcome to the HMSS Civilization. Single men's cabin for you—number 84. Find your room on the map. Unpack. Stay in the cabin, read the paperwork, and await your orders for departure. There'll be an announcement on the communications screens." Looking hard at him, she smirked again. "Stay out of trouble. Or I'll personally escort you out of the airlock after we take off."

And the way she said it, Logan knew, she was serious. Deadly serious. He wanted to say so many things. So many insults whipped through his mind about dominating Duncan and who she fucked to get this assignment. But he also had just as many questions. What the fuck was she doing there? Why was she in this fake military get-up? And if she was here, where was her father?

Instead, Logan stayed silent. It was another lesson Aaron beat into him—sometimes he just needed to shut the fuck up, no matter what sarcastic remark he felt he needed to let fly. Gathering his things, he nodded obediently at her. Her only response was to bring her hand down in some karate chop pantomime, and one of the guards punched a code into a hand-held device. A second later, there was the high beeping he'd heard earlier, and the door opened to him. With one last look at stone-cold Veronica Mars, Logan dragged himself through the doorway to his freedom.

By the time Logan made his way down the long corridor to the underground docking bay, he was vibrating from the stress and anxiety. The dimly lit hallway opened into the docking bay and his mouth dropped open in shock as the enormous transport ship loomed above him. Freud would have had a field day. The HMSS Civilization was approximately the size of the Empire State Building if it was tipped on its side and spray painted silver. Two large, round engines were affixed to each side and the wholly phallic nature of the ship made Logan wonder if it was a team of only men who designed it. Looks aside, the sheer magnitude of the ship made him feel small and insignificant. Even though he was living it, he was still having trouble comprehending how this thing would not only be his salvation, but the salvation of hundreds of other humans, seeking new lives away from Earth.

And Veronica was one of them.

He couldn't quite wrap his head around that fact yet either, adding to his unease.

Following the arrows set out on the ground, he continued walking under more guards' watchful eye along the tarmac towards the Civilization's loading doors. When he stepped inside, he found the ship was pristine white with bright lights and rounded edges. The artificial light was almost blinding and he blinked rapidly while his eyes adjusted to the space. Slowly, he began to make his way through the ship, his hand running gently across the cool walls, trying to find his way.

As he wandered the hallways, the only people he encountered were more of the crew members in the same uniforms as Veronica, pointing people in the proper direction. Everyone else must be secure in their rooms by this time. The family ahead of him disappeared somewhere in the ship, and he wondered if anyone else he knew would appear. Part of him hoped he wouldn't know a soul. There was safety in anonymity. Just knowing Veronica and possibly her father were on board made him twitchy. What if they found out about Aaron? Could he be charged with murder on earth while in space?

Murder.

A wave of nausea hit him, and Logan found himself leaning against the white wall, gasping for breath. It didn't matter if other people found out; he would forever know that he was a murderer. Patricide no less. Not that Logan looked back into the office to verify Aaron's death before he left. But the sickening gurgling he heard in the hallway as he left was either Aaron's last gasp or his bloated dead body deflating. On some level, he felt that his lunatic father deserved it—to die slowly, alone, and in agony—after the years of abuse Logan and his mother took at his hand. But even Logan had to admit to himself that he'd crossed the line. He took a life. When Sheriff Mars hauled him in to question him about Lilly's death, Logan insisted he couldn't murder anyone. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Staggering a bit under the weight of his thoughts, he righted himself and pushed on, looking for the door marked 84. Focusing. Focusing on survival. That's what mattered now. When he finally found his cabin, he paused, staring at the keypad next to the round entryway.

Frowning, he pulled out the paperwork Veronica had given him. At the top of the white sheet, the words "Welcome to the HMSS Civilization!" greeted him in swirling, scripted font, and he wondered what crazed, overzealous secretary typed this up. Skimming the instructions, he found the information he needed and quickly punched the number on his (Aaron's) tattoo into the keypad. The door beeped and opened, and Logan nearly fell inside, pulling his bags with him. When it closed behind him, he collapsed on the floor, his legs giving out.

Breathing hard, he glanced around the stark white room. Against one wall was a single bed with a large plastic dome over it. Under the bed were drawers, and above it was a bank of cupboards with doors. One of the doors had a flat-screen set in, and he wondered if it was an instrument panel or if he would be forced to watch terrible B-rated in-flight movies on a loop. On the wall across from his bed was a sink with drawers underneath and a mirror above. Next to that was a tall cupboard, and next to that was what looked like a slightly more comfortable airplane seat, and he absently wondered when his stewardess would be around.

That's what Veronica should be. A stewardess. In a little short dress and high heels, bringing him cocktails and peanuts. Why the hell was she security? Sure, she did her little private investigation thing at school, but she was now in charge of their safety? Veronica was only eighteen years old. What the fuck was that all about?

With a beep and a hiss, Logan's door sprang open, and he scrambled back away on the floor in shock as Veronica Mars stepped out of his head and into his space, her lip curled in disgust at finding him on the floor. The door closed behind her, and she pulled a long rod from her belt, pointing it at him. A tiny spark sprang from the end, and Logan scrambled to his feet, his back pressed against the wall across from her.

"How the fuck did you get on this ship?" she hissed, aiming the wand higher.

"I had a ticket." Logan stood tall, knowing he was at least twice her size and shouldn't be afraid of her.

"Liar. That's not your skin. I felt it. It's cold and discoloured. Like you took it off someone. And I want to know who you got it from."

Fuck.

Logan's entire body began to involuntarily shake in a way he hadn't experienced in a long time. Not since he was thirteen and finally got used to Aaron's abuse.

"Aaron. I took it from him."

Veronica's eyes lit up for a moment before she lowered her weapon slightly.

"Aaron."

Logan nodded. "He got a ticket for himself and decided to leave me out of the survival equation." Taking a shaky breath, Logan closed his eyes and then opened them again, keeping his emotions in check. "I did what I had to do."

Veronica licked her lips as she looked him over, and Logan was sure he was dead before he was even off the ground.

"I did what I had to do should be the official motto of this ship," she murmured. Lowering her wand to her side, Veronica shook her head. "That's what we're all doing here."

Leaning back against the wall, Logan ran his hands through his hair as he tried to comprehend what Veronica's game plan was now.

"Are you going to turn me in?"

"Depends."

"Depends?" he parroted. "Depends on what?"

"Depends on how you answer the next couple of questions."

Raising the wand again, she kicked his bags out of the way with her heavy black combat boots and crossed the tiny room in a few steps. When she pressed the end of the baton to his shoulder, he yelped and stood taller, breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Fuck, Veronica!"

"Shut up!" she barked and passed the wand hard into his skin. "We do this my way or no way."

Clenching his lips, Logan nodded, his eyes staring down into the darkness of hers.

"Did you know Aaron and Lilly were having an affair?"

"What?" Logan gasped. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Just answer me!"

"No! No, I didn't!"

Pausing, Veronica observed him shaking now with anger and fear. Aaron and Lilly. Lilly and Aaron. His brain stretched to its furthest point, and Logan willed himself at that moment not to start laughing when he snapped with madness.

"I believe you," she murmured.

She released the wand from his shoulder, dragging it down his body to stop at his groin, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the ramifications of this new position.

"Did you rape me the night of Shelly Pomroy's party, just after Lilly died?"

All the blood drained from Logan's face, and a cold shiver ran across his skin. He had a vague memory of the party. There was drinking and some great Ecstasy. There were also the body shots of tequila he did off Veronica's body as she lay unconscious in a lounge chair near the pool. But there was also some terrible sex with easy Cindy in the back of his car. Sometime after he left the party, someone must have done something….more.

Logan's knees buckled slightly, and he pressed himself up against the wall for strength with the last of his fading will.

"No. I didn't, Veronica. I swear to God…"

The wand pressed through his pants, pushing on his balls and part of Logan wanted her to taser him just on principle for the bullshit he pulled with her over the years.

"Pft. In case you missed it, Logan, God has left the building. I know you were licking salt off my body by the pool that night. I saw the pictures, and I know that Duncan saved me from you and your other disgusting friends. But what happened after he put me in a guest bedroom, and before I woke up missing my underwear and virginity is still a huge blank, even after all these years. And when I tried to find out who did it, I hit nothing but dead ends. So now I'm asking you —if you didn't rape me, then who did?"

"Fuck, Veronica! I don't know who did that to you! I left the party just after Duncan grabbed you and I have no clue what happened. I'm sorry! I'm fucking sorry, alright?"

"Sorry? Innocent people don't apologize, Logan. Why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"Because we used to be friends, goddamn it! I shouldn't have done any of the things I did, but most of all, I should have protected you like Duncan did! Because you didn't deserve...that."

The only sound was Logan's heavy breathing as he kept his attention on Veronica, once again regarding his words with deep concern on her face. Slowly, she lowered the wand and stepped back, allowing Logan to sink down the wall to the ground.

"We may have been friends, Logan, but on this ship, you don't know me. All right?"

Wiping the sweat from his face with his palms, Logan groaned. "Fine. Just fine, Veronica. Whatever you want."

She turned off the wand and replaced it at her side, adjusting her beret as she looked down on him, a mix of hatred and disgust on her face. Turning on her heels, she stepped to the keypad, about to punch in the code to leave when she paused, and Logan caught the reflection in the mirror of her features softening.

"For the record, at one point, I was working on a theory that Aaron killed Lilly, not Abel Koontz, but I couldn't gather enough evidence to make it stick." Her voice was low with an eerie calm. "So if you're feeling...uncomfortable...about choosing your life over Aaron's, then don't. Lilly told me he beat you over the years and I do believe he was behind Lilly's death. He was a cruel and twisted man, and you taking Aaron's place just saved me from pushing him out into space the first chance I got."

With that, she punched in the code, slipping quickly through the doorway before Logan could find his words. For a while he just sat there, in a pool of his sweat, rolling the scene about in his head, his eyes fixed on the space Veronica just vacated. Slowly the puzzle pieces slotted together in his consciousness. The knowledge that Lilly was seeing someone who wasn't a student at Neptune High, but unable to find out who it was. The reason why Veronica was always so angry, even after she and Duncan got back together. The twisting feeling of shame that he couldn't protect either of his friends from their fates.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the girls laughing on the beach, teasing him and Duncan about their accidentally matching pineapple-patterned swim trunks. Lilly and Veronica giving him innocent kisses on the cheek on his thirteenth birthday, laughing when he blushed. Double dates to the movies with Duncan holding Veronica's hand while he and Lilly made out next to them.

Covering his face, Logan allowed himself to weep one last time. For himself. For Lilly. And now, for Veronica.