Annalynn sat in the pilot’s chair, looking at the passive sensors. The energy spikes said Zev had fired his railcannon. Whatever he and Roger were up to, it was loud—and not subtle.
But they were professionals. She just hoped Zara would stay out of it. Knowing that girl, she wouldn’t. She’d charge in, trying to help but getting in the way. Zara was capable—she just hadn’t learned she didn’t need to be great at everything.
The comm link crackled to life. It was Sarsha.
“Captain, what did Roger say about the others in his squad?”
“You have to be more specific,” Annalynn replied, her hair shifting white.
“Something about low-power nanites?”
“Some of his old squad had their nanites powered down. Makes them a lot harder to detect but gives them a shelf life,” Annalynn responded. “Once the nanites break down, they poison the system.”
The comm was silent for a moment.
“Do you know what that would look like?” Sarsha finally asked, her professional voice slipping.
What the hell was this about? Why the sudden interest in low-power nanites? She was the doctor.
“No, not really. I think it’s similar to heavy metal poisoning—just a lot worse.”
“Well, that shoots down that theory. Anyway, best get back to work.” With that, the line went dead.
Annalynn was the first to admit that people were a mystery to her. But that was downright weird, even for Sarsha, the ship’s emotion regulator. Well, she had sent her up here for a reason. It must be important, but not something she wanted to say out loud.
Either the ship was bugged, or Sarsha didn’t want someone on the ship to hear. It was unlikely the ship was bugged. No outgoing transmissions had been detected. A simple recording bug wouldn’t be much good to anyone. The Wrath went wherever the best job was. It would be too hard to retrieve.
That meant there was someone on the ship. Which left one person: Mosley.
Annalynn focused the internal sensors, trying to find Mosley. She was in the galley. Pulling up a camera feed, Annalynn watched.
Mosley was sitting at the table, tablet in hand. She seemed to be scrolling through it. Her face was blank, her posture rigid.
Annalynn saw her hair shift green. What was it? There was something off, but she couldn’t figure it out.
Well, the best way to get answers was to ask questions. Locking her hair black, she made for the galley.
It was a short walk and one ladder down to the galley. She thought about stopping for proper clothes, but that might put Mosley at ease. The night shorts and tank top would do. Discomfort made people sloppy—especially in warfare.
The door to the galley was open; it was always open. Annalynn stepped through, walking in as casually as she could.
“Hi, Mosley. I hope you’re feeling better,” she said. Annalynn might not understand other people, but she could fake it with the best.
Mosley’s head snapped up. She just stared at Annalynn, not saying anything. It took a moment before she realized she was staring. Her cheeks went red, and her eyes shot back to her tablet.
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“I—I’m doing fine, I guess. A little tired still.” Her voice was soft and weak. Her whole face glowed red.
Annalynn walked over and sat next to her. Putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, she whispered, “You are safe now. We’ll look after you.” Annalynn leaned in close.
She could feel the heat from Mosley’s body through her thin clothes. She studied her body, watching for signs of a tell.Flushed face, calm breath, steady legs—wrong combination. Annalynn decided to lean in more.
“I want you to know, you can tell me anything. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Her tone was soft and comforting. She kept her eyes on Mosley’s face as she spoke. She left her hand on Mosley’s shoulder.
Turning to face her, Mosley took a deep breath. “Annalynn, I—um, I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes started to water. “I didn’t know how bad that ship would be. Roger rescued me from it. If there’s anything I can do to help, I will.” Tears fell freely at this point as her voice broke.
Annalynn slowly brought her other arm up and around Mosley’s shoulders. Tenderly, she pulled her in. She held the hug until Mosley stopped trembling. Comfortable people didn’t let others get this close.
When Mosley regained her composure, she sat back up. “O—oh no, I’ve made a mess of your shirt,” she said.
Annalynn’s black tank top was smeared across the shoulder and chest.
“That’s alright,” Annalynn said as she stood up and took off her shirt. “It needed to be washed anyway.” Walking out of the room topless, she made her way to her quarters.
After climbing the ladder, she doubled back aft—didn’t want to give Mosley time to connect the dots. She slipped into a maintenance hatch. Tight fit, but it got her to sickbay unseen.
The crawl was hot, and she scraped herself a few times, but in the end, she popped out the access hatch in sickbay.
Sarsha heard the hatch open and glanced down. She stared as a topless Annalynn crawled out.
Standing up, Annalynn said, “That was unpleasant. I don’t recommend it.”
She looked over at Sarsha—who wasn’t even pretending not to stare—and her hair stormed deep purple. Cold air bit at her sweat-slick skin. Sickbay always ran cooler.
“I assume you have a reason for being topless in my sickbay,” Sarsha said dryly, reaching for a medical gown.
Annalynn snatched the gown out of her hand and shrugged into it. “Here,” she said, offering the tank top. “You might get more out of the stain.”
Sarsha took it by two fingers, squinting. “And what exactly am I looking for—besides mystery goo?”
“There’s something wrong with Mosley. Her body doesn’t react the same way as her face. I got close—close enough to feel the difference.”
“You got close without your shirt on?” Sarsha asked, raising a brow. She knew Annalynn too well not to question that.
“No! I took it off after the hug—to preserve the sample.”
Streaks of red burned through the purple in Annalynn’s hair.
“Alright,” Sarsha said, extending a hand, “hand it over. And tell me—why was this worth crawling through the guts of the ship half naked?”
Annalynn hesitated. Her hair shifted, deepening from purple to a pale, uncertain white—until she noticed Sarsha was staring at her chest.
“Seriously?” Annalynn said flatly.
“Just checking how many shades of flustered you cycle through,” Sarsha said, not looking up from the scanner, a small smile on her lips.
“I spoke with her in the galley. She started crying, and I gave her a hug. I thought this would be a more pure sample for you to run,” she said. Her voice was flat, but her hair betrayed her.
“Did you learn anything else?”
“Yes, you need to be more professional,” her tone was almost a pout. With that, she went back to the maintenance hatch and climbed in. It took a while, but she managed to crawl up the shaft and back to the floor her quarters were on.
Cracking the door slightly, she looked down the corridor. It was empty. Moving quickly, she made her way to her room. The door was painted the same shade of grey as the rest of the ship.
Once inside, she dressed in her normal black jumpsuit. Taking a moment to breathe, she let the tension flow out of her. When she achieved her baseline, she stepped out.
Back in the same drab grey hallway, she made her way to the bridge. Up a short ladder, and she was back in the pilot’s seat. Reading the sensor screens, nothing had changed. Whatever the boys had done, there was no response. Worse than noise. Worse than fire. Silence was the worst.
Now what to do about Mosley? What could Sarsha be getting at, asking about powered-down nanites? Those things were even more rare than active ones. It took special equipment to interface with them.
The kind of equipment that only governments had. She had never heard of a mega-corp using nanites. If they could, they would.
It was hard to keep something like that quiet. People like Roger were not subtle. Even trying not to, Roger radiated confidence.
What was she missing? There was something she simply wasn’t seeing. She didn’t need to understand people—just the threat. But this time, the two might be the same.
