Page 96 of Journey to the Forbidden Zone

“I can reconfigure a probe’s core emitter,” Mila explained. “Instead of broadcasting a locator signal, I can set it to flood a localized area with broad-spectrum static interference. A focused EM pulse combined with randomized sensor ghosting. At close range, directly againstStar Shrike’s hull, it would blind their short-range sensors and targeting systems temporarily.”

Carmen’s breath hitched. Blinding Corso. Even for a minute. Long enough to make their self-destruct threat plausible. Long enough to make him sweat. Hope, fragile and terrifying, flickered.

“How long to rig it?” Carmen demanded.

“Approximately six minutes, Captain,” Mila replied. “The components are accessible. The modifications are within my capability.”

Six minutes. They had maybe seven left on Corso’s clock. It was tight. Too tight. But possible.

“Do it,” Carmen ordered. “Fast as you can. Sark, prep a probe for remote launch. Minimal thrust. We need it to drift close, very close, toStar Shrikebefore Mila activates the scramble.”

“Aye, Captain,” Sark squeaked, his orange fingers already flying over the launch console, head fin twitching nervously.

“Okay,” Carmen breathed, forcing herself to think, to plan. “Blind him. Make the self-destruct threat real enough he can’t verify it. That buys us time. But what then? He’s still going to want us to hand her over.”

“With the threat established, we demand he pay us for her. Cover our fines, settle our debt with Velasco.”

“No fucking way, Norvik!” Letitia roared. “We can’t sell her to that dickless asshole.”

“We do not need to sell her,” Norvik said, his voice smooth, his gaze still locked on Carmen. “We need only keep Captain Corso talking, force him to bargain. With luck, it will be enough time for Zed to complete the hack. At that point, we can escape into the Forbidden Zone.”

“Where Corso can’t follow,” Carmen said.

Her mind whirred. Corso didn’t know Zed had transferred his consciousness into the satellite. He assumed he’d killed their engineer and left them effectively dead in space. He couldn’t know Mila was every bit as talented as Zed, that she was in Cargo Bay Three right now, rigging a diversion.

And that meant Zed still had a chance. If he was still in there, he could finish the hack and let them through.

But could he come with them?

She didn’t have time to think about that. She had to think like Corso had killed him, so she could save the other people still aboard.

Including Mila.

“But how do we sell it?” she asked. “Corso knows me. He’ll never believe I’d want to sell her.”

Norvik swiveled his chair fully to face her. His yellow pupils held a strange intensity.

“He would not believeyou, Captain. But he would believe a mutiny.”

Carmen’s heart stopped. Mutiny?

The ghost ofThe Buccaneer, of W’Ooshlee staring sightlessly at her, slammed into her like a comet.

Her vision narrowed. She saw Norvik’s calm blue face, remembered his cold pragmatism, his relentless push to sell Mila.

Was this his moment? Was the Collectivist finally making his move, using Corso’s attack as cover? Trusting him felt like stepping onto quicksand.

“A mutiny,” Carmen repeated, her voice dangerously quiet. She straightened, pushing away from Sark’s chair, her gaze locking onto Norvik. “You suggesting you take command, Norvik? Signal Corso that the pragmatic faction has finally overthrown the bleeding-heart captain? Offer him Mila in exchange for letting theAntilleslimp away, her debts paid?”

“Precisely,” Norvik said, unfazed by the accusation in her tone. “Nick Corso’s psychological profile, based on observed interactions and known history, indicates a profound need to dominate you, Captain. To witness your defeat. A signal indicating crew insurrection, your confinement, and an offer to liquidate the disputed asset would be irresistible to him. It fulfills his narrative of your incompetence and his ultimate victory.”

Bile flooded her throat. The very idea of Corso beating her – again – made her want to vomit. And the crew had been fighting her the whole way here. What if the real bluff was Norvik suggesting the mutiny would be fake?

She scanned the bridge. Letitia watched her, dark eyes wide, a complex mix of fear and fierce loyalty warring on her face. Sark hunched over his console, trembling, but his fingers kept working. Norvik … Norvik was a blue statue of logic, impossible to read.

“You trust him with this?” Carmen’s question was aimed at Letitia, her voice raw. “After everything? After he wanted to sell her?”

Letitia met her gaze, unflinching.