The disrupter lay on the counter, the weapon’s matte finish dull beneath the lights. It was new. None of the intricate grip pattern had been worn away by the friction of hands holding it. The barrel was smooth, no nicks or scratches to the finish.

It was as inert as a weapon could be. Innocuous. Straight from manufacture, it held no history. Nothing but test firing for quality control.

But Atrea’s mouth still went dry, looking at it. She rubbed her palm against her leg, then immediately...