"I didn't sleep."
"Because of the power relay incident or because of whatever you're about to present to command staff?"
I should've known she'd connect the dots. Dana was brilliant at seeing patterns, at understanding how different pieces of information fitted together. It was what made her such a good engineer.
"Both," I admitted. "Also because Vaxon is going to be in there, and I kind of had a complete emotional breakdown in front of him last night, so that's going to be professionally awkward."
Dana's expression shifted to something that looked like sympathy mixed with exasperation. "Elena?—"
"I know. I'm a mess. But I have data, Dana. Real data. There are Liberty survivors in the debris field."
That stopped her mid-lecture. Her eyes widened. "You're sure?"
"Active life support on at least three compartments. Distress beacon broadcasting on Section Seven frequencies." I pulled up my datapad, showed her the key findings. "Someone jury-rigged a power distribution system that's been running for months. Someone survived."
"Oh my god." Dana's voice came out hollow. "Who?"
"I don't know yet. But the beacon signature matches protocols Will used to train the emergency response team."
She knew Will. Everyone from Section Seven knew Will, brilliant engineer, terrible comedian, the guy who'd organized weekly poker games and always brought homemade cookies that tasted like cardboard but somehow you couldn't stop eating them.
The guy who'd saved my life.
"Captain Tor'van will authorize the mission," Dana said with certainty. "No question. But Elena—the Dead Zone is dangerous. If the command approves this, they'll send a full tactical team."
"I know. I'm ready for that."
"Are you ready for Vaxon to be in charge of that tactical team?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I'll deal with it."
"You'll deal with spending potentially weeks in close quarters with the man you have complicated feelings about while searching for survivors who might not be alive anymore?"
"Yes," I said, probably too forcefully. "Because this isn't about my feelings. It's about bringing people home."
Dana studied me for a long moment, then sighed. "Just promise me you'll be careful. With the mission and with him."
"I'm always careful."
"You literally exploded a power relay twelve hours ago."
"That was a calculated risk."
"That went catastrophically wrong."
"The calculations were sound. The relay was just more unstable than my initial assessment suggested."
Dana shook her head, but she was almost smiling. "Come on. Let's go convince command to fly into contested space for your calculated risk."
The conference room was exactly as intimidating as I'd expected. A long table made of some dark Zandovian material that probably cost more than Liberty's entire electrical budget, surrounded by chairs designed for beings significantly larger than humans. Floor-to-ceiling viewscreens showed Mothership's current position in space, surrounding star systems, and active mission parameters.
And sitting around that table were the beings who ran this flying city.
Captain Tor'van dominated the head of the table, all nine feet of scarred silver authority. His cybernetic eye tracked my entrance with mechanical precision. Er'dox sat to his right, Dana's bonded partner, his bronze features composed but his amber eyes warm when he glanced at Dana. Zor'go was there too, Jalina's partner, with his crystalline blue markings and that intense spatial intelligence that made him Mothership's Operations lead.
And Vaxon.
He sat across from Er'dox, his charcoal-black skin making the electric-blue tactical markings stand out in sharp relief. Those cobalt eyes found me the moment I entered, held contact for just long enough that my pulse kicked up before he looked deliberately away.
