I responded quickly:Found the saboteur's equipment. Situation is contained but complicated. Are you still resting?
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.Was resting. Now I'm awake and concerned. Do you need me in Engineering?
Part of me wanted to say yes. Dana's analytical mind had caught details everyone else missed. Her human perspective on the salvaged technology might provide insights I couldn't see. But she'd been awake for most of yesterday, and I'd promised her twelve hours of actual rest.
Stay in quarters, I sent. That's an order. I'll brief you when the immediate crisis is resolved.
Her response took longer this time: You're worried. I can tell even through text. Be careful.
The simple concern in those words did something complicated to my chest. I shoved the feeling aside and focused on Captain Tor'van's briefing.
"Background checks begin immediately," Tor'van was saying. "Priority focus on anyone with level-four engineering clearance and system access sufficient to falsify security logs. Vaxon, coordinate with department heads to identify personnel who match that profile."
"Already compiling the list." Vaxon pulled up preliminary data. "Thirty-seven crew members have the necessary clearances. But that doesn't account for someone who might have illegally elevated their access."
"Start with the thirty-seven. Interview everyone, review their activities for the past three months, cross-reference against known access to the equipment bay location." Tor'van's cybernetic eye tracked details across multiple displays. "Er'dox, I want that encrypted transmission decoded. Whatever they were trying to send, I need to know how much damage we're facing."
"Understood. But decryption could take days without the encryption keys."
"Then find the keys. Or find someone who can break the encryption faster." Tor'van's expression was unreadable. "This is priority one. All other operations are secondary until we identify and neutralize this threat."
The briefing continued for another hour, assignments distributed, protocols established, Mothership shifting into full security mode with the precision of a vessel designed for exactly this kind of crisis.
By the time I returned to Engineering, my department was already operating under lockdown protocols. Biometric checks at every entrance, security officers monitoring all workstations, restricted access to sensitive systems.
Krev met me at my command station. "Crew is nervous. Rumors are spreading about the saboteur, getting more elaborate by the hour. Some are saying it's a spy ring. Others think it's the automated systems gone rogue."
"Tell them the truth, that we found a covert communication array and are investigating who built it. Speculation doesn't help anyone."
"The truth is almost as scary as the rumors." Krev pulled up departmental status reports. "How bad is this, Er'dox?"
"Bad enough that someone was willing to assault crew members to protect it. Bad enough that they've been planning this for months with sophisticated technical expertise." I looked at him directly. "If they'd succeeded in transmitting those specifications to hostile forces in the Contested Reaches, Mothership would be vulnerable to attack using our own systems against us."
Krev's metallic green skin seemed to pale slightly. "And we still don't know who's responsible."
"We'll find them. Dana's algorithm has proven effective. We'll modify it to detect any further attempts at covert system access." I pulled up the diagnostic data from the equipment bay. "In the meantime, I need to decrypt this transmission. Whatever they were trying to send might give us clues about their identity or motivation."
"You want help?"
"I want you managing the department while I focus on this. Keep everyone calm, maintain our operational standards, and watch for any suspicious activity."
"You think the saboteur might be in Engineering?"
The question I'd been avoiding asking myself. Someone with level-four clearance and intimate knowledge of Mothership's power systems. Someone who thought like a human engineer despite presumably being Zandovian.
Someone in my department would fit that profile perfectly.
"I think we can't rule out any possibilities," I said carefully. "Which means we trust no one completely until this is resolved."
Krev nodded and returned to his station, leaving me alone with encrypted data and uncomfortable suspicions.
The transmission file was heavily protected—military-grade encryption that suggested either access to classified security protocols or exceptional technical skill at breaking them. I ran standard decryption algorithms, knowing they'd fail but establishing baseline data.
As expected, standard approaches got nowhere. Whoever encrypted this understood Zandovian security intimately.
I pulled up every technical reference I had on human encryption methods, looking for patterns that might suggest hybrid techniques. The integration of technologies in the communication array suggested someone comfortable working across multiple paradigms. Maybe their encryption followed the same philosophy.
Three hours of analysis produced frustratingly little progress. The encryption was adaptive, changing its structure in response to decryption attempts. Clever. Infuriating.
