“How?”
“How were you planning to colonize the worlds around us?”
“That’s the arks’ job. But we have shuttles. We—”
“Ships, exactly, and if we need to evacuate the Nexus…” she trailed off as comprehension dawned in Addison’s eyes. She knew those ships, their capabilities, their capacities, better than anyone.
“Come on, let’s see what Kesh found.”
The woman nodded, followed her back across the room. At least she seemed more focused now.
With a series of impatient grunts and snarls of frustration, the krogan performed surgery on the innards of the one computer that wasn’t totally destroyed. For all her bravado, Sloane stood aside and just watched. Numbness spread like ice through her core, overwhelmed by the extent of the disaster.
Yet if all she could do was keep the others on task, it was something, right?
There was a pop, a shower of sparks. Kesh swore.
Another failure. Another thing to fix.
“Would it help if I punched it?” Sloane asked bitterly.
Kesh glanced at her, a flat stare that had even Addison flinching. Then, wordlessly, the krogan balled one large hand and popped the terminal sharp and hard.
The screen flickered to life. Information began to pour across the surface.
“The hell that worked,” Sloane said doubtfully.
The krogan grinned, and smacked her on the shoulder. “Let’s see what we can find out!” Everyone huddled around as Nakmor Kesh manipulated the screens, impatiently shoving obvious alerts aside. “Hmm.”
“What is it?” Addison asked.
“Won’t let me in.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
Kesh made a deep, annoyed grunt. She did not turn from the screen. “Emergency protocols are in full effect.” Now the krogan did swing her massive head around, turning to face Addison and Sloane. “That requires Garson to acknowledge and clear, and that has not happened.”
“She’s missing,” Addison said, defensively.
“The system doesn’t know that.”
“What are you getting at, Kesh?” Sloane asked.
The krogan gestured at the display. When she spoke next it was as if she was quoting from the procedures manual, which Sloane guessed was exactly the case.
“In the event of station-wide emergency, if the commander does not acknowledge this state within a certain time period, a lockdown is initiated until the appropriate individual, as identified by preprogrammed succession protocols, can be summoned to stand in their place.”
“Okay,” Sloane said. “That’s Addison then, isn’t it? Let her do it.”
“Possibly.” Kesh studied the panel. “But the procedure is very specific. We need to go down the list, marking off those… incapable… of filling in until Garson is located.”
Addison passed her datapad over, a bit reluctantly Sloane thought. They waited as Kesh manipulated the interface, striking six names in rapid succession from the chain-of-command list. Well before Addison’s name was reached, however, the protocol produced a listing that wasn’t on the datapad, or part of the arrival ceremony group.
Addison squinted at the display. “Wait.” She pointed at the text. “Who the hell is Jarun Tann?”
“Jarun Tann,” the salarian said. “Deputy director of revenue management.”
“Perfect,” Sloane muttered, shaking her head. “Just fucking perfect.”
The chamber which housed his stasis pod had seen only minimal damage in the “event,” as Addison had taken to calling the disaster. Tann, along with everyone else in here, had remained asleep, and woke now only because Kesh had the maintenance override in her repertoire of tech miracles. The only one, it turned out, who did. At least still alive and accounted for.
The salarian had sat right up, almost chipper, probably assuming this was the expected revival from the long sleep and that he could get to work counting beans or whatever the hell it was his job was supposed to entail.
At Sloane’s tone his expression changed. He studied her, then Addison, and then Nakmor Kesh. The sight of the krogan looming over him made the salarian recoil involuntarily. “What’s going on here? You’re not the revival team.”
“I’m Sloane Kelly, security director.”
“We’re under attack?”
She shook her head. “There’s been a terrible accident. The station is in trouble. Which is why we’ve woken…” she could barely say the words without emitting a terrible bewildered laugh. Deep breath, deep breath. She steadied herself. “Which is why we woke you.”
“An accident? Related to revenue?” His eyes drifted in Kesh’s direction and then whipped back to Sloane. The tax wonk squirmed in his stasis pod. “If this is some kind of prank—”
“No prank,” Sloane said. “I wish it was, believe me.”
“I don’t understand.”
Addison let out a long sigh. “At the moment, you’re the most senior crew member present and accounted for.”
Silence descended among them. Tann stared at her.
Addison’s smile was brittle. “According to emergency command protocol, the Nexus is yours.”
That sunk in. “What?!”
The word hadn’t even finished echoing before Kesh said slowly, “Until, that is, we locate Jien Garson.”
A tricky situation made slippery. Jarun Tann was an unknown, a newcomer to the leadership gathered, and as acting director, they knew nothing about him. To have a salarian and a krogan in close proximity…
Sloane did not miss the thick note of menace in the krogan’s voice.
Neither, she noted as Tann’s already large eyes got larger, did he.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kesh followed the others back to Operations, then waited in silence as Jarun Tann studied the display listing him as the temporary commander of the Nexus.
Sloane stood beside him, arms folded across her chest. Addison sulked a short distance away. No, sulked wasn’t quite right. The human fumed. She clearly had expected, though certainly not hoped, to be the next in line for command in this situation. Instead, for reasons none could fathom, this middle-management finance officer had been higher on the list.
The salarian stood there, scratching idly at the back of his neck, reading his name on the screen over and over as if it might provide some hidden explanation.
Kesh remained by the door, arms hanging at her sides. The fact of his ascension grated. Deeply. The salarian species had, after all, developed the genophage that neutered the krogan clans. Even now, centuries later, it was the salarian species who lorded it over the struggling krogan. Every last one seemed inclined to bring it up.
To look down their stubby noses at the krogan.
Kesh had hoped to step away from all that. To work with cooperative folk, species more inclined to respect what the krogan brought to this new table.
And maybe in part, the sting she felt was the lack of recognition. The tint of betrayal to her indignation. But she knew herself well enough to recognize that at heart, she was an engineer. The station’s situation wasn’t getting any better the longer he waited, and Kesh was already running a list of necessary repairs in her head.
Whatever else the salarian expected, Kesh knew her job.
As if aware of it, aware of the others, Tann, without ceremony, finally acknowledged the display. He stated his name and woefully unimpressive title to clear the security. The screen winked out, and then more information began to flow across its surface. Kesh couldn’t help herself, crossing the room to stand behind the three others.