"Approximately thirty percent of the transmitted data was legitimate technical specifications. The rest was corrupted beyond use. Anyone attempting to exploit the information will find contradictory systems data and nonfunctional schematics." I paused. "But thirty percent is still concerning. Enough to provide strategic insight into our power distribution architecture and defensive capabilities."
"Enough to make Mothership vulnerable if it reaches hostile forces."
"Yes."
Through the window, Kim was explaining her methodology, how she'd salvaged Liberty components from the wreckage of the mining colony, how she'd studied Zandovian technology through observation and theft, how she'd built her credentials piece by piece until Mothership accepted her as a legitimate crew. And how she’d escaped on an explorer ship and had gotten off at a space station nearby. And how she snuck on board while Mothership stopped for supplies.
"Impressive deception," Tor'van observed. "She maintained the fiction for six months without raising suspicion."
"She's brilliant. Liberty's Chief Engineer, legendary reputation for technical innovation. Under different circumstances, I'd have recruited her for my department immediately."
"And now?"
"Now she's a security threat who assaulted crew members and attempted to transmit classified data." The words felt heavier than they should. "But she's also a survivor whomade desperate choices for complicated reasons. Not simple to categorize."
Tor'van was silent for a long moment, his ancient eyes tracking Kim's body language through the observation window. "You're conflicted. Why?"
Because I understood debt. Understood obligation. Understood owing someone for survival when death seemed certain. Because Kim's situation wasn't that different from Dana's—both brilliant engineers displaced across impossible distances, both making choices to protect the beings who mattered to them.
The difference was Dana had chosen to work within Mothership's systems. Kim had chosen to work against them.
"She reminds me of someone," I said instead of answering directly.
"The human in your department who caught her."
"Dana would never commit treason."
"No. But she understands loyalty and debt. As do you." Tor'van's cybernetic eye focused on me with uncomfortable intensity. "The question is whether Kim's loyalty to her mining colony contacts outweighs the threat she poses to fifty thousand beings aboard this vessel."
The door opened behind us. Dana entered, looking exhausted despite eight hours of mandated rest. She moved to stand beside me at the observation window, her green eyes immediately focusing on Kim.
"Captain Tor'van specifically requested you sit in on this interrogation," I said quietly. "You understand human psychology and Liberty's organizational structure better than anyone else aboard."
"What do you need from me?"
"Context. Insight. Confirmation that Kim is who she claims to be." Tor'van gestured toward the interrogation room. "Andassessment of whether she's telling the truth about her motivations."
Dana studied Kim through the window, her analytical mind working through patterns I couldn't see. "That's definitely Dr. Sarah Kim. I never met her personally, different departments, different shifts, but I attended her technical lectures. Everyone on Liberty knew her reputation."
"Which was?"
"Brilliant, dedicated, uncompromising. She held everyone to impossible standards, including herself. Drove three different engineering teams to resignation before they reorganized around her management style." Dana paused. "But she was fair. Never asked anyone to do something she wouldn't do herself. And she was loyal to her people—fought administration constantly to get her teams better resources and recognition."
"Loyal enough to commit treason for them?"
"I don't know. The Kim I knew from lectures wouldn't have betrayed Mothership. But that was before the wormhole, before eleven months of survival trauma. People change when pushed to extremes."
In the interrogation room, Vaxon was asking about the mining colony contacts. Kim's responses were detailed but carefully edited, providing enough information to seem cooperative while protecting specific identities and locations.
"She's still protecting them," Dana observed. "Even knowing she's caught, even facing serious charges. She won't give up information that might endanger the people who saved her."
"Admirable or foolish?" Tor'van asked.
"Both. Usually are, in my experience."
I found myself watching Dana more than Kim. The way her shoulders carried tension she couldn't quite hide. The exhaustion in her eyes despite mandated rest. The complicatedemotions flickering across her face as she watched another Liberty survivor face consequences for impossible choices.
"I need to speak with her," Dana said suddenly. "Kim. I need to talk to her directly."
