"Back down the other end of the corridor I saw someone walk out of here. Didn't see anyone inside, and there's a better chance of finding a terminal in here." Kirrik grunted in response.
There didn't seem to be any security locking on the door, and it was opened without any problems. The room was indeed empty of people. Electronic constructions of unknown purpose lined the walls and covered two heavy benches in the centre of the room. Also on the benches, enshrouded by strange devices, were three fragments of twisted metal.
Kirrik tossed a datapad to Marchero. "Find the terminal and plug this into it," he told her, and then turned to the benches.
Marchero searched through the paraphernalia surrounding the walls until she found what she hoped was a standard SysInf socket. The pad accepted it without complaint. It did nothing for a few seconds, then beeped quietly. "Download complete," flashed on it.
"Download?" she asked Kirrik.
Kirrik was hunched over a bench, poking at various switches and studying displays with intense concentration. He either ignored her or hadn't heard her.
"Download what?" she repeated.
Kirrik looked up angrily. "I'm busy. Watch the door."
Marchero scowled at him. "Catch," she called, throwing the pad back at Kirrik. It clattered to the floor.
Kirrik turned around again. "Just pay attention, all right? And stop messing around."
Marchero folded her arms and looked straight at Kirrik. "Or what? You'll shoot me, because it's convenient? Cold-blooded murder doesn't seem to bother you, after all."
"I do what's necessary. If I was to do whatever was convenient you would have been dead a long time ago."
"Oh, yeah, sure. The end justifies the means and all that," she retorted sarcastically.
"This, coming from someone who tried to get a convoy shot to pieces to get at one person?" he replied with some surprise.
"I've explained that several times, and the fact that everyone else would have got away."
"How very convenient. And how is killing someone in a petty personal vendetta any better than doing it in a greater cause?"
"That's worrying. I always worry when people start babbling on about 'Greater causes'. They can start justifying any atrocity in the name of the greater good. And if they can officially get away with it then they've got too much power."
"What a fascinating speech. I suppose if we're attacked then it's fine to kill someone in defence? Possibly several people, even. Or just one or two to prevent that."
"Hah. What a transparent excuse."
"So you hold everyone in the universe with a combat rating greater than 'Harmless' in contempt? I can't see you as being quite that naïve. I believe you are 'Competent' yourself." He turned back to examining the bench. "Save your moral arguments for later," he said, not bothering to look at her. "For when we have the time."
Marchero tried to bite back, but was ignored. Eventually frustrated by the lack of response she finally watched the door.
It wasn't long before Kirrik stood up. "Found it!" he said, quietly but enthusiastically.
"Found what?" Marchero snapped.
"That these are pieces of the Constrictor!"
"The what?"
"None of your business."
Marchero was starting to turn red, her temper clearly about to go again.
"OK, it was a secret ship that was stolen, and then destroyed. Satisfied?" He picked up the pad from where it had been lying on the floor, and connected it to the computer interface again.
The answer hadn't told her much, but seemed to have averted another argument. "And the computer?"
"You downloaded some dataprobes. If Kalangu has done his job properly they should be able to sneak their way into secure data and arrange for it to be collected on this." He waved the pad. "They've also been set to pull out any other useful information. Like a map."
Marchero raised an eyebrow curiously. Kirrik thumbed the pad's controls.
"The map's there," he said. He scanned through a little more of the stolen data. "Uh-oh," he muttered.
"What's up?" Marchero asked quickly.
"These bits of rubbish here," he said, gesturing towards the metal on the bench, "are just hull plating. They were made with a new technique, but it wouldn't be worth all this effort for them. Apparently a ship is being built, though, right here. And so are some very unusual shield generators for it."
"Which suggests that was part of your 'Constrictor'," Marchero guessed.
"Yes," Kirrik replied, looking at her darkly. "According to this they had enough pieces of the shield generator to work out something. The specs aren't as good as the originals, but it's still bad, bad news."
"So let's get that ship, then!" Marchero announced.
"I suppose so," Kirrik said dubiously. "It's probably in the most secure area here."
"Does it say why they want some high-tech shields so badly?"
"No," Kirrik admitted.
"Then the answer might be on that ship."
Kirrik agreed with this. "Wait a minute, though. I need to skim through the rest of this."
He had only been studying the pad for a few seconds before the door opened.