Mace’s gaze flicked back to Foley. Satisfaction hung around the other man like a cloak.
“This weapon wasn’t the only one on the ship,” Cache continued. “There were fifty disassembled and integrated in the cruiser’s construction.”
A low murmur rumbled around the table. That amount of prototype guns hiding in such a small ship meant the CORE had been planning this for a while.
“I shouldn’t need to emphasize how important it is to find out what the CORE’s agenda and put a stop to it.” Cache stared at each of her commanders in turn. “The day they use bio-weapons on Tellusians again is the day we really go to war. I have orders from Admiral Krispin to use everything at our disposal and to make contact with our assets.” Her eyes rested on Mace a moment longer than necessary. “And I mean everyone.”
Mace raised his eyebrows at her. He wouldn’t endanger Lexi unnecessarily, not with her position so vulnerable.
“Dismissed,” Cache said, and the commanders scattered.
Mace remained where he was, but his eyes followed Foley as he strode to the nearest lift. Beside him, Grey grasped the gun to examine it closer.
“It’s pretty,” Grey said stroking the barrel and lifting the weapon to his shoulder. “Light too. Point and shoot. Couldn’t be easier.” Grey set the gun back on the holotable and leaned forward, bracing his hands. “Fuck, what are they planning?”
“Nothing good,” Cache replied, crossing her arms over her chest before jerking her chin at Mace. “You need to contact Lexi. Find out what she knows.”
“You know I can’t do that, sir,” Mace replied.
“Dammit, Mace.” Cache seized the gun, and with her eyes flashing, shoved it at his chest. “This is a game changer, and it’s on my watch. My territory.”
His hands wrapped around the barrel. Grey was right. It was lightweight, the sleek composite material comfortable in his hands. Mace stared down the sight and the opposite side of the command center came into focus.Point and shoot.
A chill ran down his spine at the idea of the CORE making bio-weapons this easy to use. “What about the prisoner’s contact?” Mace placed the gun on the holotable’s surface.
“No show. They were probably going to send another set of co-ordinates before the real drop point.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “If you don’t contact her, I will.”
“And you’d be giving her a death sentence. Do you want that?”
Cache’s nostrils flared. “No, of course not.” She took a breath. “But with bio-weapons, no one’s safe. Use proper channels if you must, but we need what information she has ahead of the regular schedule.”
Mace’s stomach twisted. The only way his sister remained safe was if they didn’t contact her. There were too many variables involved, and long-distant communications could be intercepted.
But at least Cache was being reasonable enough to wait for proper channels. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”
“That’s all I ask.” She turned on her heel, black hair swooshing over her shoulder, and headed to the far side of the command center, a group of techies scurrying as she yelled orders.
Mace stared after her a minute before heading to the lift outside the security checkpoint. Grey fell into step beside him.
“Are we off to training, then?”
The lift door opened, and they stepped on. “I need to make a stop first.” He hit the controls. Grey got off on the training level, but Mace remained, descending into the belly ofOrion.
The corridors of the brig were brightly lit, a grid-like deck full of both cells and interrogation rooms. Mace strode to the intake desk and spoke to the warrior on duty.
“There was a man arrested in Section C family medicine. Where is he now?”
Her fingers skimmed the terminal in front of her. “Cell twelve,” she said, looking up at him.
“Has anyone been in there?”
“No, sir,” she said. “My orders were to wait until you arrived before following procedures.”
Mace nodded his thanks. “Send for a doctor. He’ll need one when I’m finished.”
Her eyes widened a fraction at his words. Realizing how he’d sounded, Mace shook his head before continuing on. Marked doors lined the sterile gray bulkheads.
He stopped in front of the cell and ran a hand through his hair. Nia’s last words to him made him take a breath. She was a healer. She’d asked him not to hurt the man. She knew trauma induced recklessness.
