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Fleet 27

Cord finally found the right box. He stabbed his I.D. code into the number pad and popped the lid open. A dozen grav guns were latched in place. “None of the fail safes have been changed or taken off by anyone at any point. There is no way those injuries were caused by a grav gun.”

He grabbed one at random and flipped it to me over his shoulder. I caught it in both hands and instantly pulled the trigger, aiming for Cord. Nothing happened. I shrugged, a little disappointed. It wouldn’t have explained anything, but pinning Cord to the deck would have made me feel better. He turned and I pretended to be examining the gun rather than trying to break him with it. I don’t think he was fooled.

“But they were definitely caused by the ship’s A.G. system.”

I let the trigger go and followed him down to the security station near the main cargo bay at the ship’s stern. I fiddled with the gun on the way, trying to see if there was anyway I could rig the system so the gun could function without the control chip. By the time we reached the office I had figured out a way to rig the remote system, but there was no way to send a coherent signal to the computer. All the transmission circuits had to be on the control board.

Cord exchanged grunts with the guy who was half asleep at the monitor system and pulled open a storage locker behind the desk, emerging with a set of tools. He grunted again, this time at me, and the sleepy guy at the desk buzzed us through another door at the rear of the office.

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