Cavalon swallowed, his eyes darting between the women, unsure of the source of the awkwardness thickening the air between them.
Emery gave a soft nod, her voice coming out strangely quiet. “Yeah, I know, Mes.”
Mesa drew her neck up straight and continued, all tension gone from her voice. “Besides, plans for a weapon are not of consequence. I assume our inventory of the Drudgers’ ship did not reveal any actual fusion bombs?”
“Not that I heard about,” Emery said. “But what if these aren’t the only Drudgers? What if there are others with these same plans?”
Cavalon realized then that Emery hadn’t been told the whole story. She didn’t know the device had come with a set of instructions from a real, live Viator. If she did, she’d sound even more right than she already did.
Emery slid in front of him and started shuffling through the menus. She pushed aside the map and schematics in favor of a panel that listed a long series of Viator numbers.
“I don’t read Viator,” she said, pointing at the symbols stiffly, “but these are numbers. Coordinates.”
Cavalon raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“I dunno. But if this really is a map of all this,” she said, sweeping her hands out to indicate their general area, “then there’s nothin’ out here but Sentinels. Which means these Drudgers’ friends could be headed for the Typhos or the Accora or any of the other dozens of Sentinel vessels stranded out here. For all we know, they could be hopping from post to post, dropping an H-bomb on every one of our ships. And if these guys were here at Kharon, then the Argus was probably next.”
Mesa pinched her lips together. “That seems like a leap, Miss Flos. Many leaps, actually.”
“Well, Miss Darox,” Emery said, crossing her arms, “that might be the case. Either way, the EX needs to know about this.”
“I agree,” Mesa said hospitably. “We should continue to study the map and find out everything we can from it. When the excubitor returns, we will present her with only the facts…” she added pointedly, narrowing her eyes at Emery. “Then we will see what her decision is.”
Emery sighed, but nodded her agreement, and the two set to work sifting through more screens. Cavalon sat down carefully, letting out a long breath as his bruised torso smarted and his mind chewed over the new information. He worried somewhat about what Rake’s reaction would be. If she followed her original instinct when they’d first seen the Viator, she’d shrug, turn the gate on, and shuffle them all through.
Though it gave him some relief to know that even if Rake forced the rest of the crew to relay away, she would more than likely stay behind herself. Hell, she would probably blow the gate up behind them so the Viators couldn’t use it to get closer to the Core. If they did find the crew of the Tempus alive, maybe she’d keep that other Titan with her to help fight. Maybe Jackin. But she’d make the rest of them go.
Yet in the back reaches of Cavalon’s mind a strange sensation arose: that he wanted to be there too. Not that he would be overly thrilled with the idea of being thrust into a war right after the Legion had decided to withdraw from the Divide completely. But he didn’t think he could live with it if he just disappeared through the gate and left it all behind.
He had no idea why he felt that way. He clearly wasn’t popular with the Sentinels at the moment—he’d just gotten the shit beaten out of him as proof.
Pain twisted in his abdomen as he shifted in his seat. He braced a steadying hand on his bruised rib cage and let out a long breath. Maybe he really had deserved Snyder’s wrath. But he didn’t want to deserve it—not because he gave a shit about what that asswipe thought of him, but because he couldn’t stomach seeing himself that way. As just another pathetic, docile, complacent pawn getting shoved around the galactic chessboard by Augustus.