Page 115 of Star-Crossed Captive
“Can confirm,” Mouse interjected quickly, like he wanted to stop murder—which was possible. “It’s part of the virus they’ve planted and wasn’t deliberate.”
Cache pointed at Mouse, her features hard. “You. Return to unlocking those systems.” She pointed at Callista. “You. Fix what you did and turn the fucking thing off. If we all die, it’ll go on your report.”
Callista jerked, her brow furrowed in her confusion. “But won’t I be dead along with—?”
“Get to work!” Cache shouted.
Mace strode over to where Grey monitored the CORE techies. Hands on their heads, the scent of their fear and desperation wafted toward him. He pushed away his pity, and thoughts of Nia, of what she would want him to do in this situation, to ask, “Which one of you can turn off the self-destruct? Lie to me and die. Work with us and you’ll be treated with respect.”
Grey’s eyebrows lifted. Okay, so it sounded less threatening than the situation warranted, but it seemed to have the desired effect. While most of them continued to shake and blubber, one woman held up a tentative hand.
He stepped toward her. “You can turn it off?”
She shook her head frantically. “I heard General Duval say if the self-destruct was tripped, it would be unstoppable.” Her voice shook as she spoke, her Common accent different than Nia’s. She ended on a sob, her eyes sliding to where they’d stacked their dead commanding officers.
“No one here designed it?” Grey asked.
She shook her head again. “We’re all bridge crew from theTriompheand arrived this morning.”
“Tais-toi,” the man beside her spat.
She turned to him, her face twisted in anger, and said in French, “We’re either going to die or become sex slaves, Reggie! I’d rather cooperate if it means some respect!”
A couple of the others nodded, two looked close to fainting, and one at the side reached for her left hand, her missing PALM, like he’d seen Nia do a hundred times. His chest panged.
He wasn’t going to get any more help here and returned to the holotable just as Newton poked his head out.
“They’ve done a lot of shit to this thing,” he said, running a hand over his face. “It’s going to take about a dozen teams a few days to fix everything. They weren’t intending to flyOrionout of here.”
“Arewegoing to be able to fly?” Cache asked, hands braced against the holotable.
“I think so?”
“That was a question?”
“Yes?”
Cache glared at him as he disappeared under the holotable, then met Mace’s eyes. He knew what she was thinking.
If they couldn’t get the station out of the sector, they were dead. More CORE would keep coming.
“Mouse?” she asked the techie near him.
“I’ve accessed most of the main systems,” Mouse replied, “but the same virus is slowing us down. I have re-established communications.”
“Can we contact thePhalanx?”
“Their comm is down.”
“Weapons?”
“Still working on it. I’m almost ready to clear the station. A couple more minutes.”
They stared at the viewer. ThePhalanxcould use their help right now. Transports left the hangars. They were evacuating. TheMercenary,Rebel, and the Tellusian fighters were offering as much cover fire as they could to the survivors.
“Callista?” Cache asked.
No reply, and when they looked at her, Mace noted the sweat beading her brow.
