"Er'dox sent me your assessment results. Impressive for a being from an unknown civilization working with completely foreign technology paradigms." He gestured at the chairs in front of his desk—massive chairs that we had to climb into like furniture designed for giants. Which, fair point, it was. "Sit. We have much to discuss."
We sat, our feet dangling several inches off the floor, looking like children called to the principal's office. Maintaining dignity while sitting in furniture sized for eight-foot aliens was harder than engineering fusion containment.
"Your people present an interesting problem," Tor'van continued. "Sixteen refugees from an unknown galaxy with no resources, no currency, and no way home. Standard protocol would be to assign you basic labor positions and let you work off your rescue debt over ten to fifteen years. However—" He pulled up a holographic display showing assessment data. "—several of you have demonstrated skills that make that approach inefficient."
"Inefficient how?" I asked.
"Because wasting advanced engineering knowledge on basic maintenance is poor resource allocation. Er'dox wants you in Engineering. Zorn is fascinated by your botanist's knowledge of xenobiology. Your medic has trauma surgery experience we could use. Even your pilot has spatial navigation intuition that Vaxon noted during initial evaluations."
He leaned forward, cybernetic eye glowing. "So here's the situation. I can assign you to basic positions where you'll be minimally useful and take decades to pay off your debt. Or I can assign you to positions matching your actual skills, where you'll be significantly more valuable and reduce your debt much faster. The question is: which do you want?"
I exchanged glances with Jalina, Bea, and Elena. This wasn't what I'd expected. I'd braced for negotiation, for fighting for basic respect, for proving our worth. Instead, Tor'van was offering us exactly what we needed.
Which meant there was a catch.
"What's the catch?" Elena asked, apparently thinking the same thing.
"The catch is that skilled positions come with expectations. You'll be held to the same standards as Zandovian crew. You'll work full shifts in challenging conditions. You'll be evaluated constantly. Failure means demotion and extended debt. Success means advancement and freedom." Tor'van's expression wasunreadable. "Most rescued beings choose the easier path. Basic work, low expectations, slow debt reduction. I'm offering you the harder path because Er'dox thinks you can handle it. Was he right?"
The challenge sat between us. This was the moment. The decision that would shape everything that came after.
I looked at my friends again. Saw the same determination in their eyes that had kept us alive on the burning planet. We'd survived a cosmic disaster, three weeks of hell, and displacement across galaxies. We could handle hard work and high expectations.
"We'll take the skilled positions," I said. "All of us. Assign us where we're most useful, hold us to your standards, and we'll prove we belong here."
"Bold words from someone who's been aboard less than a day."
"Bold seems to be working for us so far."
Tor'van studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, something that might have been approval crossed his scarred face. "Er'dox, present your recommendations."
Er'dox pulled up a personnel file, mine, I realized, seeing my image rendered in Zandovian data format. "Dana. Background in environmental engineering, demonstrated advanced theoretical knowledge and exceptional practical problem-solving. Assessment scores place her in the ninety-seventh percentile overall. Recommendation: immediate assignment to Engineering, advanced track, working directly under my supervision."
My heart kicked into overdrive. Working directly under his supervision. In Engineering. On a ship that operated on technology decades ahead of anything I'd studied.
"Accepted," Tor'van said simply. "Next."
Er'dox shifted to Jalina's file. "Jalina. Medical training, xeno-botany knowledge, demonstrated adaptability during crisis situations. Zorn specifically requested her for medical bay. She'll assist with botanical pharmaceutical development and trauma care."
Jalina's eyes went wide. "I'm not a doctor?—"
"You're a medic with field experience and knowledge we need," Tor'van interrupted. "Zorn will train you. Recommendation accepted."
Bea was next. "Bea. Botany specialist, experience with survival agriculture in hostile environments. Our hydroponics chief, Sev'kor, needs someone with her innovative approach to plant cultivation. She'll work in life support systems development."
Bea nodded, accepting it with her characteristic calm.
"And Elena." Er'dox pulled up the pilot's file. "Navigation specialist, spatial intuition that scored off Vaxon's standard charts, aggressive problem-solving approach. She'll work with the navigation team, learning our systems and providing human perspective on spatial analysis."
Elena's expression was relief mixed with apprehension. Working with Vaxon, who'd been less than welcoming during the rescue, probably wasn't her first choice. But it was a skilled position, and it meant faster debt reduction.
"These assignments are provisional," Tor'van said. "Thirty-day evaluation period. Perform well, and they become permanent. Fail, and we'll reassign you to positions matching your actual capabilities. Understood?"
"Understood," we said in unison.
"Good. Er'dox will take Dana to Engineering immediately. The others will report to their respective departments after you've all had time to settle your remaining people into quarters." Tor'van's cybernetic eye focused on me specifically."One more thing, Dana. You asked about your people's treatment. Here's my answer: they're crew now. They'll be held to crew standards, given crew privileges, and protected by crew protocols. No different from any other rescued beings we've integrated. Fair treatment, hard work, and opportunities to advance. That acceptable to you?"
It was more than acceptable. It was exactly what I'd hoped for and not quite dared to believe we'd get.
