The responsibility was crushing. The opportunity was terrifying. And somewhere in the intersection of those two feelings was something that might have been excitement.
I fell asleep with my notebook clutched to my chest, charcoal smudges on my pillow, and dreams full of blueprints that built themselves in impossible configurations while ice-blue eyes watched from the shadows.
When my alarm chimed at 0530, I jolted awake with my heart pounding and the distinct feeling that my entire life had just changed direction.
The shower was sonic, Zandovian technology that cleaned without water. I still wasn't used to it. The vibrations felt wrong against my skin, missing the comfort of actual water, but it was efficient and I didn't have time for comfort.
Clean clothes. My best pair of work pants, the ones without charcoal stains. A shirt that actually fit instead of the too-large Zandovian castoffs I usually wore. My glasses, cleaned, for once. My notebook, filled with sketches and notes and ideas I hoped would be useful.
Bea was already awake when I emerged, studying medical scans on her datapad. She looked up, taking in my appearance with those sharp gray-blue eyes that missed nothing.
"You look terrified," she observed.
"I am terrified."
"Good. Terror means you understand the stakes." She set down her datapad. "But Jalina? You're going to be brilliant at this. I've watched you sketch every inch of Mothership for six months. You see spaces differently than anyone else here. Trust that."
The words settled something anxious in my chest. "Thank you."
"Now go. And try to remember to eat. You forget that when you're focused."
I grabbed a ration pack from our shared food stores and headed toward Operations. The corridors were nearly empty this early, just a few overnight shift workers heading to quarters, their footsteps echoing in the vast metal spaces. Mothership felt different in these quiet hours. Less imposing. Almost peaceful.
Zor'go's office door was open when I arrived at exactly 0600. He was already there, standing among his floating holograms, silver-gray skin catching the blue light like he was made of the same material as his blueprints.
He looked up when I entered. No greeting, no small talk.
Just: "We're starting with structural load calculations. Your neighborhood clusters require support modifications to the primary framework. Prepare to learn more about Zandovian engineering than you ever wanted to know."
I set my notebook on the holoprojector table, pulled up the seat he'd modified for human height, and met his ice-blue eyes.
"I'm ready."
And then Zor'go's comm unit chimed, sharp and urgent, the tone that meant priority communication from the bridge.
His markings flickered, a flash of irritation crossing his angular features.
"Zor'go here."
Captain Tor'van's voice came through, clipped and commanding. "Report to the bridge immediately. We've detected an anomaly in Sector Seven, massive energy signature, unknown origin. Bringing all department heads for assessment."
Zor'go's expression went carefully neutral, but his markings shimmered with what I was learning to recognize as concern. "Acknowledged. En route."
The comm clicked off.
He looked at me, something unreadable in his ice-blue eyes. "Your first lesson will have to wait. When dealing with unknown energy signatures, structural calculations become irrelevant if the structure doesn't survive."
And with that cryptic statement, he strode toward the door, leaving me alone among the floating blueprints with the distinct feeling that our collaboration had just become significantly more complicated.
Chapter 4
Zor’go
The office felt different after Jalina left.
I stood among the floating holograms, watching the expansion project rotate in three-dimensional space, and tried to identify what had changed. The air circulation remained constant at optimal temperature. The lighting maintained its precise calibration. The spatial dimensions were identical to when she'd arrived at 0600.
Yet something fundamental had shifted.
