"Your way makes you a traitor facing execution-level charges."
The words hung between them, sharp-edged and uncomfortable. Kim stared at Dana for several seconds, and I watched calculation war with exhaustion across her expression.
"What do you want from me?" Kim asked finally.
"Information. Cooperation. Understanding about what Liberty technology you studied and how you integrated it with Zandovian systems. Details about whether there might be other survivors out there using similar techniques." Dana paused. "And honestly, Sarah, I want you to stop. Stop protecting the mining colony above everything else. Stop treating Mothership's crew like enemies. Stop making choices that end with you dying alone in a detention cell."
"That poetic or literal?"
"Captain Tor'van is deciding right now whether you're a salvageable asset or a permanent threat. What you say in the next few hours will determine which category you fall into."
Kim looked past Dana to where I stood near the door. "Engineer Er'dox. Professional opinion. Am I salvageable?"
The question caught me off-guard. I'd been observing, analyzing, and maintaining the supervisor distance I'd learned was necessary for objective assessment. But Kim's direct question demanded an honest response.
"Technically, yes," I said carefully. "Your skills are exceptional. Your knowledge of integrated systems is valuable. Under controlled conditions with appropriate oversight, you could contribute significantly to Mothership's operations."
"And personally?"
"Personally, I think you made catastrophically poor choices for understandable reasons. Whether that makes you redeemable depends on whether you're willing to work within our systems instead of sabotaging them."
"Redemption through compliance. How very Zandovian."
"Redemption through contribution," I corrected. "Dana proved human engineers can excel within our structure without betraying the crew who gave them shelter. You could do the same if you chose to."
Resignation mixed with calculation settled on Kim’s face. "If I cooperate. If I provide the information you're asking for. What happens to my mining colony contacts?"
"That depends on what you tell us about them," Vaxon said through the comm system. "If they're legitimate settlers operating beyond official jurisdiction, they're not our concern. If they're hostile forces or pirate operations, that's different."
"They're survivors. Just like us. Just trying to build something in a galaxy that doesn't care if they live or die."
"Then helping us understand that distinction protects them," Dana said. "Sarah, work with us. Stop fighting alone. You survived eleven months by yourself—you don't have to keep doing that when there are other humans aboard who understand what you've been through."
I watched the moment stretch between them. Two brilliant engineers who'd survived the same impossible disaster, facing each other across the wreckage of choices that couldn't be undone. Kim's defiance wavering. Dana's determination is unwavering.
Finally, Kim's shoulders dropped, not defeat exactly, but acknowledgment of reality. "Okay. I'll cooperate. Tell you what you want to know about Liberty technology and integration techniques. But I want something in return."
"You're not in a position to negotiate," Vaxon said.
"Everyone's in a position to negotiate if they have information someone else needs." Kim looked at Dana. "I want to meet the other survivors. Want to see with my own eyes that they're actually safe and not just corporate propaganda designed to make me compliant."
"That's not—" Vaxon started.
"Acceptable," Tor'van's voice cut in. "You'll be allowed supervised contact with the Liberty survivors after you've provided the requested information. Assuming Dana vouches for the interaction being safe."
All eyes turned to Dana, who looked surprised to suddenly be making decisions about security protocols.
"I vouch for it," she said after a moment. "Sarah deserves to know we're okay. And we deserve to know another one of us survived."
"Then it's decided." Tor'van's voice carried finality. "Kim, you'll provide full technical briefing on your integration methods and knowledge of Liberty systems. Dana, Er'dox, you'll conduct the debriefing. Vaxon, maintain security oversight but allow the conversation to proceed without constant interruption."
The interrogation shifted then, becoming something closer to technical consultation than hostile questioning. Kim walked us through her methodology, how she'd salvaged Libertycomponents, reverse-engineered Zandovian systems, integrated disparate technologies using creative principles that made my engineering instincts hum with appreciation.
Dana asked questions with surgical precision, identifying techniques that might indicate other survivors working similar approaches. I documented everything, already thinking about how Kim's knowledge could be applied to legitimate operations once we resolved the security concerns.
Three hours passed. Three hours of technical discussion that felt almost normal, almost like standard departmental briefing, if you ignored the restraints and security officers.
By the time we concluded, I had a comprehensive understanding of Kim's capabilities and methods. More importantly, I had confirmation that her operation was singular, no evidence of other Liberty survivors using identical techniques, no indication of larger conspiracy beyond one brilliant engineer making desperate choices.
