59: Brice
Brice
As Brice ran through the galley—giving Mouse a friendly nod—Storm’s voice echoed from wall-speakers, calling everyone to meet on deck.
Brice took a round-about route, avoiding everyone else. By the time he opened the service door to the rear of the bridge complex, most of the crew were in position. The stragglers joined them as Brice crept around the railing, crouched down to watch.
The noise swirled, confusion and anger the primary emotions. Brice focused on individuals. Storm concentrated on the divisions in her crew, studied them each. And Grip seethed with dark anticipation.
The sun rested on the horizon, the sky a gradient from fiery orange to deep blue, with no clouds. Half the crew had their faces bathed in light, forcing them to shield their eyes.
Storm st
