Page 43 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
He nodded, not bothering with pleasantries. "Find anything?"
"You've changed since earlier," she said instead, her gaze sweeping him from head to toe. "Height increased by one point six centimeters."
"That's not what I asked," he said, impatience edging his voice.
Her lips quirked slightly. "Irritability is also elevated. Interesting."
"Jesh," he ground out her name like a warning.
She made a small gesture of surrender and reached for the datapad tucked into her utility belt. "I analyzed the combat footage. I think you may be right."
His heart rate spiked. "Show me."
She activated the pad, blue holographic light spilling across the narrow space. "I cross-referenced Rann's combat techniques against known fighting styles. The results are somewhat concerning."
She expanded a section of footage, zeroing in on Rann during the firefight. Frame by frame, she broke down his movements. Everything from Rann's stance to the wrist angle as he handled the captured M'Suun weapon, and even his counterattacks.
"This technique," she said, freezing on Rann's spinning kick followed by an upward strike, "is exclusive to M'Suun elite forces. This isn't improvised. This is trained muscle memory."
She swiped to another clip. "Note his finger positioning on the weapon's secondary regulator. I checked. That's a location specific to M'Suun clan weapons. No outsider would instinctively know this."
Davis felt vindicated. His gut hadn't been wrong after all.
"There's more." She played another clip, enhanced and slowed. As the M'Suun attackers first emerged, Rann's posture shifted. It was subtle but unmistakable. Recognition.
"He knew exactly who they were," Davis said, jaw tightening. "Not just Imperial. Heknewthey were M'Suun."
"Correct. The correlation with M'Suun combat techniques is ninety-three percent."
His fingers curled into fists. "Son of a bitch."
"His familiarity does suggest direct training," Jesh confirmed. "He is either M'Suun or they trained him. A DNA test would determine which."
The confirmation sent fresh heat through his veins. Rannhadbeen hiding something all along, potentially putting everyone at risk.
Putting Mira at risk.
Shit. She'd already survived Rettnor. The idea of Rann's deception endangering her made something primal stir beneath his ribs.
"Davis." Jesh's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "What's your plan?"
He looked up, already mapping confrontation scenarios in his head. "I'm going to make him talk."
"Consider a tactical approach," she cautioned. "Questions before accusations will yield more information."
"For hiding M'Suun training? For recognizing our attackers and saying nothing?" He gave a sharp, humorless laugh.
"I'm suggesting restraint." She tilted her head and looked directly at him. "Ryke trusts him completely."
The corridor alarm chimed. Two minutes to the crew meeting.
Davis felt a flicker of doubt. Would confronting Rann fracture the crew beyond repair? His tactical mind weighed crew cohesion against the risk of Rann's hidden agenda.
But the image of Mira in danger bulldozed all hesitation.
"Let's go," he said, already moving. "Time to crash this little party."
The crew meeting room buzzed with activity as Davis strode in, Jesh a step behind. His gaze swept the space automatically, cataloging positions and threats.
