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“It’s the truth.” Cure looked at him. “The male is incompetent.”
“The male has information we require.” Drift reminded him. “Delete it.”
Ten heartbeats passed.
“I’m deleting it.” Cure conceded that point. “It’s not logical but I’m doing it.
Thank the stars. Tension whooshed out of Drift.
He flew their modified freighter toward the planet and crafted a reply. “Tell your contact you’re bringing him medical supplies and giving him the temporary usage of machinery to assist him with his patient load.”
“My skills should be sufficient,” The medic jutted his jaw.
“Tell him that.” Drift wouldn’t move on his stance.
Cure stared at him for five heartbeats.
“I’m relaying your words to him.” The medic entered his response into the handheld. “Though all of that intel isn’t required. Having usage of the Rayan Skin Restorer is sufficient.”
“Ah yes, who could resist the Rayan Skin Restorer?” It was a struggle for Drift to contain his amusement.
“No one with functional processors could do that.” Cure’s tone was sincere.
Silence stretched.
“As projected, he couldn’t say no to that offer.” Cure nodded. “He has agreed to meet with me. And he has sent the coordinates and some other unnecessary details.”
Strike had already arranged Drift’s meeting with his contact. That contact projected he’d be speaking with a previous purchaser of a stolen ship, a Powluk.
Drift’s presence would be a surprise.
But that was the only way the face-to-face encounter could be set up. The Cancri B contact didn’t trust strangers.
“We have visuals of the planet.” Drift displayed that image on the main viewscreen. Cancri B was…orange. There was very little water on the surface. Or vegetation.
“I’m performing a lifeform scan.” Cure swept his hands over his control panel. “There are 23,525 humanoids and 92 humans on the planet.”
That was…disappointing.
“Either the Humanoid Alliance is blocking our lifeform scan or they don’t have a presence on Cancri B.” Drift tilted his head to the side. “The development of a superweapon would require a base. And they wouldn’t operate a base with only 92 humans.”
“No one has hailed us.” Cure pointed out that telling truth. “They wouldn’t have a base with no security.”
“They have to have some presence on the planet.” Drift was 98.1278 percent certain of that. “The vessel sold to the Powluks was a Humanoid Alliance Class A warship.”
“We have Humanoid Alliance Class A warships,” Cure countered with more facts. “The vessel could have been taken from a base on another planet by another being, flown here, and then the contact stole it.”
That was a concrete possibility.
“Fraggin’ hole.” Drift’s shoulders sagged. “We could have flown here for no reason.”
He hadn’t even set any speed records during the journey.
Though they had discovered a space turtle.
That was something. A big something.
“I’ll have to deal with the medic for no reason.” Cure gazed down at his handheld.
