bones.” With no time to waste, she’d filled them in while returning to the ship. Assuming Big Bill was watching, or would be watching at least fifteen percent of the time, she’d tried to look like she’d already begun to design a training facility for thieves and murderers. Ressk’s tracking program kept her face turned away from surveillance cameras.
“Okay, one and zeros.” Ressk cracked his toes and took a long swallow of sah. “Moving training equipment would be a great cover. Any chance of Big Bill changing his mind about waiting until the armory’s open?”
“No.” When it looked like he was going to pursue it further, Torin raised a hand and cut him off. “You’ve cracked the station sysop, can’t you shut down the gravity and open the exterior hatch from your slate?”
“I’m in Communications, Gunny.”
“Not what I asked you.”
He straightened, responding to her tone. “Yes, I can shut down the gravity and open the big hatch from the slate. But it’ll take time to find the right subroutines and more time to subvert them.”
“How much time?”
His nose ridges opened and closed. “Probably more than we have.”
Torin narrowed her eyes. “You hacked through ship security every time Sh’quo Company was deployed.”
“Yeah. But, Gunny . . .”
“Are you telling me Big Bill Ponner is more paranoid than the Navy with Marines on board?”
“Gunny, he created a digital history that convinced everyone who mattered that Vrijheid was destroyed in the war. He’s either written or adapted every program running on this station. I’m telling you he’s better than the Navy.”
“Better than the Navy doesn’t make him better than you.”
“Well, no, but . . .
“No buts. Get to work; we need the gravity off and the hatch open.” Torin dropped into the pilot’s chair and set her mug on the edge of the board. “All right, before we can open the ore docks to vacuum, we have to get Nadayki and Craig away from the pod. I’ll talk to Craig.” She frowned. “There’s no blast wave in vacuum. Does that change the result if we blow the armory in the pod?”
“Not enough. Atmosphere or no atmosphere, the pod’s not designed to contain large chunks of shrapnel. Pieces of the armory will go through the pod and then the station like cheese through a H’san. We have to get it, on an absolute minimum, thirty kilometers away and even then the station will take damage.”
Every mission came with collateral damage. The brass tried to pretend it didn’t, but the people on the front lines knew better.
“Let’s hope the interior decompression hatches work as planned, then. You two . . .” Torin spun the chair to face Werst and Mashona at the table. “Get down to the Hub and watch for Big Bill. We can’t risk him going to the ore docks and finding out he’s got three hours’ less time.”
“Why would they tell him?” Mashona asked, shoving the last spoonful of scrambled egg into her mouth and shoving the tray in the recycler.
“From what I saw of Nadayki, if asked, he’s likely to brag about it.”
Werst emptied his mug. “Would it matter?”
“Big Bill believes nothing will happen until 1630. If he learns the armory’s due to open at 1330, our cover story tightens up. Without those three extra hours, we blow our cover with Big Bill or we lose the armory. Either way, we’re screwed.”
“Or Cho is. Cho’s betraying him,” Werst expanded off Torin’s look. “Pulling weapons out early.”
“If Big Bill finds out before the armory’s open, Cho’ll argue he was just being gung ho. Wanted to surprise Big Bill with how efficient he is.” Pain from her injured knuckle reminded her to loosen her fist. “If we control the information, we can aim and fire it when it’ll do us the most good, so we have to keep Big Bill . . .”
“From the docking bay.” Werst laid his palm against the air lock’s inner panel. “Check.”
“And if we see him?” Mashona asked, falling in beside Werst.
“Ping me.” So far, the plan had more variables than actual points of reference. A few more variables couldn’t hurt. “Let’s mix things up a bit. Drop a few subtle rumors about Cho while you’re out there.”
“About how this big mystery haul of his is big enough to finally piss off the Wardens and have them kick the Navy into action, putting the station and everyone on it in danger?”
“That’s good.”
Mashona smirked. “More than just a pretty face, Gunny.”