threw the pieces of the metal trigger device he was holding
to the deck. “It’s fried. I’ve tried six times, it’s shot.”
Taz turned to the other ensigns standing warily by. “Are
you sure it’s the only one we’ve got? We’re running out of
time!”
“We’ve searched the place, Lieutenant, it’s clean. That’s
it.”
Taz turned back to Pedro. “Is there any other way? Can’t
we just send the damn core to them and hope it blows up
when it gets there?”
Pedro buried his head in his hands. “No, it has to be
precise. The inertia of the separation will carry it in the
right direction, but we have to trigger it just as it reaches the
underbelly of the ship, where their cores are, or the
explosion won’t be big enough - it’ll just fizzle out and
we’re still dead.” He rapped his forehead against the metal
worktable. “The only way-”
“Yes?” Taz said.
He raised his head, slowly, and looked her in the eye.
“We could do it manually.”
His meaning took a moment to sink in.
“You mean, one of us-”
He nodded.
There were four pairs of eyes on her. Eyes she was
responsible for.
“Show me,” she said.
The others raised halfhearted protests. Pedro just kept
looking at her.
“I’m the senior officer here, dead goddammit!
Muéstrame!”
A bead of sweat rolled down Pedro’s temple as he eyed
her over his cards. His uniform lay in a pile on the floor.
“Not much left to lose,” Taz said, smiling. “Getting