I opened a comm channel to Er'dox's station. "Er'dox. Dana. I've got a variance alert in subsection nine, deck seventeen power distribution. Fluctuation is point-three percent above normal parameters. Could be nothing, could be early regulator failure. Recommend inspection."
Silence for three seconds. Then: "Pull up your analysis and send it to my station."
I complied, watching as my data appeared on his displays. Er'dox studied it for maybe ten seconds.
"Your analysis is correct. It's early-stage regulator failure. I'm dispatching a repair team now." His voice carried something I couldn't quite identify. "Good catch, Dana. Most entry-level engineers miss that kind of subtle variance."
"I've had practice with subtle variance. Survival engineering teaches you to notice small problems before they become big ones."
"Keep noticing. Engineering out."
The comm closed, and I smiled despite the pressure. I'd caught something. Proved I could do this. It wasn't much, just one small variance in a system full of variables, but it was a start.
The next six hours were an endless parade of monitoring, analysis, and controlled panic as I struggled to keep up with the data flowing across my screens. Er'dox checked on me periodically, answered questions with efficient precision, and corrected my mistakes before they became problems.
By the time my shift ended, eight hours that felt like eight days, I was mentally exhausted and physically wired. My brain was full of Zandovian power systems and monitoring protocols and enough technical data to fill a small library.
"You survived," Er'dox observed when I finally logged out of my station. "Most non-Zandovians would have quit after three hours."
"Most aren't trying to prove they belong in advanced Engineering." I rubbed my eyes, fighting the screen-fatigue headache building behind them. "Did I pass today's evaluation?"
"You didn't fail. Which, for your first shift, is sufficient." He pulled up a performance summary. "Seven variance catches, all correct. Three optimization suggestions, two of which I've implemented. Response time averaged slightly below acceptable, but that will improve with familiarity."
"So I'm adequate?"
"You're functional. Adequate requires consistency over time." Er'dox studied me with those unnervingly direct amber eyes. "You did well, Dana. Better than I expected for someone working with completely foreign systems. Get food, get rest, and report back tomorrow at 0800. We'll see if you can maintain this performance."
High praise from someone who seemed allergic to actual compliments. I'd take it.
I made my way back to quarters, exhausted but oddly satisfied. The work was hard, the standards were brutal, but I was doing it. Proving I belonged. Building something from the disaster of displacement.
The quarters were full when I arrived, four of us reunited after our first day in our new positions. Jalina looked energized, Bea looked thoughtful, Elena looked like she wanted to murder someone.
"How was it?" Jalina asked immediately.
"Intense. Overwhelming. I caught a regulator failure and Er'dox didn't fire me, so I'm calling that a win." I collapsed onto my sleeping platform. "You?"
"Medical is incredible. The technology they're working with, Dana, they can regrow organs. Actual organs. Zorn showed me a procedure where they rebuilt someone's entire respiratory system from their own cellular template. It's like science fiction except it's just science."
Bea nodded. "Hydroponics is equally advanced. They've got food cultivation systems that shouldn't be possible. I spent six hours just documenting their bacterial symbiosis techniques."
All eyes turned to Elena, whose expression was thunderous.
"Vaxon is an asshole," she announced. "A massive, overbearing, condescending asshole who thinks humans are basically incompetent children who need constant supervision."
"That bad?" I asked.
"Worse. He spent the entire shift questioning every suggestion I made, double-checking my work like I was going to accidentally fly Mothership into a star, and generally treating me like I was too stupid to understand basic spatial navigation." Elena threw herself onto her own platform. "I'm going to prove him wrong if it kills me."
"Don't let it kill you," Jalina said. "We just got stable positions. Let's try to keep them."
"Can't make promises."
We talked for another hour, sharing experiences, processing our first day in our new lives. It felt almost normal, almost like the group debriefs we'd had aboard Liberty, back when we'd been explorers instead of refugees.
Eventually, exhaustion won out over conversation, and we settled into our sleeping platforms. Tomorrow would bring another shift, more challenges, more opportunities to prove ourselves.
But tonight, we could rest.
