It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "If you complete the full assessment at the same level you've demonstrated so far, yes. You have skills I can use. But that's not the only factor. The Captain will consider your people's needs, integration challenges, resource allocation. Final assignments are his decision."
"But you have influence."
"I have input."
"Input," she said, almost smiling. "That's a very careful word."
"I'm a very careful engineer."
This time she smiled, small, exhausted, but genuine. "I noticed."
I should have left then. Should have returned to Engineering, started compiling the evaluation data, prepared for tomorrow's meeting. Instead, I found myself saying, "The beacon you built. When you finish the full assessment, I'd like to discuss its design in detail. The hybrid integration techniques, the creative use of limited resources. It represents engineering philosophy worth studying."
Dana's expression went from surprise, suspicion, to interest, all cycling too fast to fully read. "You want to study my disaster engineering?"
"I want to understand it. Different approaches to problems reveal different solutions. Your desperation engineering might have applications in our conventional systems."
"That's..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "You're serious."
"Always serious about engineering."
"Right. Of course." She rubbed her face, exhaustion finally catching up to her. "Okay. Tomorrow. Meeting with the Captain.Then we can talk about why cobbling together incompatible power systems was actually good engineering."
"Exactly."
I left before the conversation could spiral further, my mind already racing through the evaluation data, the recommendations I'd make, the complications of integrating sixteen extraordinary humans into Mothership's systems.
This was going to be interesting.
My communicator chimed before I could return to my station. Captain Tor'van's voice: "Er'dox, report to the bridge. We've detected another signal, same signature as the human beacon. There are more survivors out there."
"On my way, Captain."
6
Dana
The next morning came too soon. The datapad's surface was cool under my fingertips, the holographic text hovering just above it in that slightly unsettling way Zandovian technology had made everything feel like it was floating in midair. I'd been staring at Mothership systems documentation for three hours, and my eyes were starting to cross.
"You need to sleep," Jalina said from her sleeping platform across the quarters.
"I need to understand their power distribution architecture before tomorrow's meeting."
"Dana—"
"They're going to test me. Er'dox made that clear. I need to prove I'm worth keeping in Engineering, which means I need to demonstrate I can handle their systems, which means I need to study." I scrolled through another section on thermal management. "Besides, I'm not tired."
That was a lie. I was exhausted down to my bones, running on fumes and stubbornness, but shutting down meant thinking, and thinking meant processing, and processing meant feelingthe full weight of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Rescued. Stranded. Indebted. Assigned. All of it crashing down like cascading system failures, each one triggering the next until you couldn't tell where one disaster ended and another began.
"You're going to burn out," Jalina observed.
"Burning out is a luxury I can't afford."
Bea appeared in the doorway between the common area and the sleeping quarters, her tall frame folding with practiced efficiency as she sat on the edge of my platform. "She's right. You're running on empty. I can see it in your face."
"My face is fine."
