"Maya's joining us remotely," I said as we entered. "She's overseeing the habitat pod installations in Section Seven."
"Excellent." Tor'van's cybernetic eye swiveled to focus on me. "I've reviewed your preliminary designs for the secondary expansion. They're ambitious."
"That's not a criticism, is it?"
"It's an observation. The primary expansion exceeded all performance metrics. Crew satisfaction scores are up eighteen percent. Efficiency hasn't decreased despite the aesthetic additions." His expression might have been approval. Might have been indigestion. Hard to tell with Tor'van. "You've proven that beauty and function can coexist."
"Jalina proved it," Zor'go said. "I just stopped resisting long enough to listen."
"Partnership," I corrected. "We proved it together."
Tor'van nodded, then brought up the secondary expansion projections. "We've received requests from seven different species for custom habitat designs. All want the human-Zandovian collaborative approach applied to their quarters."
Seven species. Seven different biological requirements, cultural preferences, spatial needs. The project would take years.
I felt excitement spark in my chest. "When do we start?"
"Three weeks. Assuming you're willing to expand your team." Tor'van looked at Maya's image on the comm screen. "Ms. Chauncy, I'm formally offering you a position as Senior Habitat Designer, reporting directly to Jalina. We need your expertise for the Talaxian sector particularly—their gravity requirements are complex."
Maya's face did something complicated—surprise and gratitude and residual trauma all fighting for dominance. "I... yes. Thank you, Captain. I accept."
The meeting continued for two hours, discussing logistics and timelines and resource allocation. But I barely heard half of it, too busy watching Maya's expression shift from haunted to hopeful as Tor'van outlined her responsibilities. Too busy feelingZor'go's hand rest casually on my shoulder whenever he leaned over to point out structural considerations on the holographic displays.
Too busy realizing that this impossible, complicated, cross-species collaboration was home now.
Not Earth. Not the Liberty. Not any place I could mark on a map.
Home was being understood. Being valued. Being part of something larger than individual survival.
When the meeting ended, Dana pulled me aside while Zor'go discussed technical specifications with Er'dox.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah. Why?"
"Because you've been crying."
I touched my face, surprised to find moisture on my cheeks. "Happy crying. Not sad crying."
"There's a difference?"
"Apparently." I wiped my eyes, smudging charcoal. I didn't remember getting on my fingers. "I was just thinking about how far we've come. Ten months ago, we were convinced we'd die on that burning planet."
"And now you're designing habitats for seven different species and dating the Head of Operations."
"Bonded to the Head of Operations," I corrected. "There's a difference."
Dana's green eyes went soft. "I know. Er'dox explained the bonding ceremony to me. It's serious."
"It's terrifying."
"Because you're committed to someone from a different species who you'll never be able to return to Earth with if rescue comes?"
"Because I'm not sure I'd choose Earth anymore if rescue came." The admission came out raw and honest. "Because Ithink I'd choose him. Choose this. Choose a life I never planned but somehow fits better than anything I left behind."
"That's not betrayal, Jalina. That's growth."
"Feels like betrayal sometimes."
