She wiped away the blood with one of her shirts while she considered where to leave the tracker. A bot whirred to life at her feet, and she grinned. Perfect. She grabbed the bot before it could zip away on its next assignment, holding it off the ground until she found a way to fasten the tracker to it. It chittered in mild alarm at being handled, and by the time she found a niche to wedge the tracker into, the bot was beeping at her in what could only be annoyance. The moment she set it down it stopped complaining, made a series of low, pulsing warbles and zoomed off.
She waited for a ten-count, mentally reviewing what she knew about the layout of the station. She needed a ship, which meant she had to get to either the docking spars or the repair bays. The spars would be full of functioning ships, but they would also be bustling with activity and the ships would all be secured against theft. If she went for a ship under repairs, she’d have a better chance of getting away with stealing transport, albeit one with dubious performance.
Given that she didn’t have far to travel, she opted for availability over reliability. Her basic programming had included piloting, basic ship maintenance, and repairs. If she picked the right vessel, she’d reach Absalom. That was her only goal.
She’d have to take the long way, which meant making her way through the maze of maintenance tunnels and shafts that honeycombed the station. She placed her comm unit on one of the re-charging bots, slung her bag over her shoulder, checked to make sure her injured wrist wasn’t too noticeable, and slipped back into the corridor. Whatever ship she stole, it better have a working shower. By the time she made it through the tunnels, she was going to need it.
Waiting quietly was not a skill Eric had ever mastered. The interrogation room he was in was empty save for himself, Kurt, a couple of chairs, and a battered steel table that looked like it had been recently liberated from the mess hall.
“Magi, if you don’t stop bouncing your foot on the floor, I’m going to do something you won’t enjoy and will leave you limping for days. You’re innocent, remember? Innocent men are calm, collected, and do not twitch like they mainlined ja’kreesh for breakfast,” Kurt reminded him gruffly.
He stilled his mind and his body, leaning back in his chair and unclenching his hands.
Kurt grunted. “Better. You know who JAG is sending over?”
“No. Archer—I mean Colonel Archer only said he’d get someone over here.”
Kurt raised a brow at his slip but didn’t say anything. He was the lead interrogator for Team Three, and he’d been training Eric in the art for months. Every word and gesture mattered when trying to determine guilt, and Eric had been sloppy. He needed to stop worrying about Nyx and focus on his current problem.
There was a light knock at the door, and it opened a second later to reveal a curvy woman with dark hair and a professional smile standing in the doorway. She was average height, but there was nothing average about the way she walked into the room, confidently assessing everyone in it with a single glance.
Normally, she was exactly the kind of woman he liked. Sure, capable, with just a hint of danger hiding under the surface. And yet, all he felt was relief that Archer had sent someone competent. Kurt’s reaction was a lot more interesting. He sucked in a sharp breath, then went still.
“Good day. I’m Lieutenant Commander Castille, Judge Advocate General’s Corps. Colonel Archer asked me to represent you today, Ensign Erben. Do you agree to have me present during this questioning period?”
She shot a hard look at Kurt. “You haven’t started questioning him already have you?”
“I’m happy to have you here today, Lieutenant Commander, please join us.” He nodded to Kurt. “This is Lieutenant Commander Meyer, a teammate from Nova Force. He’s here to uh…” He wasn’t quite sure how to explain Kurt’s role.
Kurt stepped into the conversation. “I’m here to answer any questions General Halverson might have about how our team functions, and how our methods differ from standard IAF protocol on some matters.”
“Ah.” Castille’s smile widened into something warmer for a moment. “Ally in the room?”
Kurt nodded and gave her a ghost of a smile. “Something like that.”
The JAG officer barely had time to take a seat and take out a data tablet before the door opened again, this time without any warning. The General barged in, and it was obvious before he’d taken two steps into the room what his tactics would be – bluster and bravado.
“Why isn’t this man in restraints?” he demanded. Then he turned his gaze on the two officers flanking Eric. “And who are you people?”
All three of them stood as the General took a seat at the table. He was alone, which meant that his aide was elsewhere. Probably keeping an eye out for Nyx when they brought her in. Had Dante told her what was happening? Did she know what she was walking into?
Kurt and Castille introduced themselves and everyone took their seats again.
Halverson laid into Eric the second his ass touched the chair. “Why’d you do it, Ensign?”
“Sir? I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“You admitted to committing cybercrimes and acting against the IAF. I want to know why.”
Castille held up a hand and looked at him. “I see nothing in my notes about that. Did you admit to either of those offenses, Ensign?”
“No, Lieutenant Commander, I did not.”
She turned back to the General, her expression calm and cool. “Perhaps if you rephrased your question, General.”
Halverson’s jaws tightened. “Very well, since the ensign seems to be having difficulty understanding my very simple question, I’ll reword it for him. You’ve already admitted to committing this breach of security. I want to know why, and what information you were after.”
Eric picked his words carefully. “During my investigation into the existence of Project Fury, I found myself up against an adversary who excelled at wiping data and deleting any evidentiary trail I tried to follow. This adversary was not bound by the same rules as I was, and as such, was more successful in their efforts. Eventually, I realized that if I was going to beat this being, I’d have to break the rules.”
“By attacking the IAF? How did that further your investigation, exactly?”
“I never attacked the IAF, sir. Whatever proof you have that I did, it’s been falsified, just like the date stamp on the security footage you have of me.”
Halverson’s next salvo of stupidity was halted by a brisk knock at the door, one that fell into an unusual pattern. Two knocks, then one, then two more.
“Come in, Lieutenant Clooney,” the general called, already turning in his chair.
The lieutenant came in, looking unhappy and agitated. He leaned down to murmur a message to Halverson and handed him something metallic.
The general exploded. “Find her! I don’t care if it takes every IAF soldier stationed here and they have to search every level of this starsforsaken station, I want her in custody before lunch.”
“Of course, sir. A search is already underway.” The aide nodded, turned crisply, and departed without another word. Halverson spun to face Eric again and bellowed, “Where is she?”
“Who, sir?” It had to be Nyx, and he didn’t know whether to be happy or worried that she’d slipped away. Was she alright? Why had she run? And where the hell would she go?