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he would
have offered us a better deal.”
    “Command thinks that maybe our cover held, sir. They believe
that Captain Smyth was trying to get you to walk away from the deal so he could
sell the crate to an undercover team.”
    “Idiots,” Tom mumbled from his bed. Both of them ignored
him.
    “Any particular target?”
    “The Prydwen . Captain Liang got a message saying
Smyth had merchandise.” The room went silent for a while and Tom had to struggle
to focus on his shifting thoughts.
    Tom had never served with Liang, but he was another of those
captains who insisted that everything be pretty. Tom had been drinking buddies
with the engineer from the Prydwen when they were both in for repairs
after a really bad set-to with a fleet of slavers they’d cornered in Omega
sector. Liang was also one of those captains who did more arresting than
undercover work because he ended up on the news-vids standing next to
confiscated goods more often than most captains. Probably because he was a
pretty man. Tom didn’t figure any of them on the Kratos rated as pretty.
Well, Eli would, but he hadn’t really been on the ship long enough to count.
Tom was a rough man, Becca was cute as hell and Ramsay had a distinguished sort
of presence, but none of them was handsome the way Liang was.
    “Things are getting more serious if they’re moving from
smuggling to terrorism,” Ramsay said, his voice slow and thoughtful. That was a
tone that usually meant he was thinking on ways to kill someone, and Tom
smiled. Hell yeah…if he was going to get blown up, he wanted revenge on whoever
had given Smyth that damn bomb. He thought about Da’shay lying on the crate,
her long fingers stroking the wood. Might be that he wanted revenge on several
people.
    “Sir, terrorism means targeting civilians. I think this
makes them cold-blooded murderers.”
    Ramsay’s snort made it clear that he didn’t agree.
    “I’m with the captain on that,” Tom said blearily. He forced
one eye open, and Eli was undulating back and forth as he stood by the
captain’s bed. Either that or Tom was overmedicated.
    “If they wanted to kill cops, they could have called Liang
or us and asked for a meet and then had snipers take us out,” Ramsay pointed
out. “Bomb seems like overkill.”
    “Wouldn’t happen,” Tom interrupted. He stuck his tongue out
as he tried to get the awkward thing to work right. When he opened his eyes,
both Eli and Ramsay were looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Took those
two out at five thousand meters,” Tom explained with a smile. He was the best,
and if another sniper tried taking out his crew, they’d be buried before they
figured out how wrong they were. “Ain’t a sniper who can outthink me.” Tom knew
he wasn’t particularly bright, but he knew how to sling a gun and he knew it
better than anyone. He wouldn’t let the captain walk into a meet that was
vulnerable to sniper fire, not unless he was there on the high ground making
sure he was the only sniper.
    A warm hand patted Tom, but his eyes were too heavy to open,
so he wasn’t sure who it was. Damn sedative.
    Ramsay cleared his throat. “Putting a bomb on a ship is
playing off every spacer’s greatest fear. Having your ship blow up under you
without any chance to fight back…that’s terror. They’re trying to terrorize the
entire Corps into backing off and letting them have all the Omega colonies. As
more immigrants move in and expect Corps protection, they’re worried about
losing influence, even over the slave colonies.”
    “Could be, sir,” Eli agreed. “Command wants to debrief you.
They implied we had a mission, but they weren’t willing to debrief me.”
    “Eli, you’ve got to finish that training so we can get you
officer status. I’m sick of them playing these political games with rank.”
    “Yes sir,” Eli agreed. “However, I got the impression they
want us to go in deeper.”
    “Deeper?” Ramsay sounded suspicious, and he should.