Chapter 5 #3
"You and your people are cleared for general crew quarters. Medical observation is complete."
"We're being released?"
"You were never prisoners. Medical holds were for your safety and our crew's safety until we could establish communication. Now that's complete, you're free to move about Mothership with standard refugee protocols."
"Which means?"
"Supervised initially. Restricted access to sensitive areas. Standard security clearances that will expand as you integrate." I gestured toward the door. "Come. I'll show you to your quarters."
The humans gathered their meager belongings, salvaged equipment, personal items that had survived the disaster. Everything they owned fit in packs they could carry, an entire civilization's worth of refugees reduced to what they could hold.
Dana finished the last question on her assessment, handed me the datapad. "How'd I do?"
I glanced at the results, and felt my estimation of her abilities adjust upward again. "We'll discuss it at the meeting tomorrow. For now, just know you've given me data worth presenting."
She studied my expression, trying to read Zandovian micro-expressions she couldn't possibly understand yet. "Is that good or bad?"
"It's interesting," I said, which was honest if not particularly helpful.
I led them through Mothership's corridors, watching their reactions to the city-sized vessel.
They moved as a unit, protective formation, overwhelmed but trying to process everything they were seeing.
Other crew members passed us, Zandovians, mostly, but also beings from a dozen other species, and the humans drew stares everywhere we went.
First contact fascination. They'd be dealing with it for weeks.
We arrived at the crew quarters section, and I opened the door to the unit I'd designated for them. Six sleeping platforms, shared facilities, common area. Cramped by Zandovian standards, probably spacious by human standards.
"Six to a unit," I explained. "Three units total for your sixteen people. The injured will remain in medical until cleared, then join you."
Dana moved through the space, checking everything with an engineer's thoroughness. Testing the sleeping platforms, examining the facilities, running her hands along the walls like she could understand Mothership's construction through touch alone.
"This is temporary?" she asked.
"Until your status changes. Better quarters become available as you gain seniority and pay down your debt." I pulled up the unit's control interface, showed her how to adjust environmental controls. "Temperature, lighting, privacy settings. Standard features."
"Standard features," she repeated. "On our ship, this would have been officer quarters."
"Your ship was much smaller."
"Our ship was home." She said it quietly, not accusation exactly, just statement of fact.
I didn't have a response to that. Home was a complicated concept aboard Mothership, where fifty thousand beings from countless worlds had all left home behind for various reasons. Some by choice. Some by necessity. All of them building something new from loss.
"Tomorrow at 0800, you'll meet with Captain Tor'van," I said instead. "The meeting you requested. Bring your concerns, your questions. He'll listen."
"Will you be there?"
"Yes. I need to present my evaluation data and make recommendations for assignments."
"Recommendations." Dana turned to face me fully. "You're going to recommend I work in Engineering."
It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway.
"If you complete the full assessment at the same level you've demonstrated so far, yes.
You have skills I can use. But that's not the only factor.
The Captain will consider your people's needs, integration challenges, resource allocation. Final assignments are his decision."
"But you have influence."
"I have input."
"Input," she said, almost smiling. "That's a very careful word."
"I'm a very careful engineer."
This time she smiled, small, exhausted, but genuine. "I noticed."
I should have left then. Should have returned to Engineering, started compiling the evaluation data, prepared for tomorrow's meeting.
Instead, I found myself saying, "The beacon you built.
When you finish the full assessment, I'd like to discuss its design in detail.
The hybrid integration techniques, the creative use of limited resources.
It represents engineering philosophy worth studying. "
Dana's expression went from surprise, suspicion, to interest, all cycling too fast to fully read. "You want to study my disaster engineering?"
"I want to understand it. Different approaches to problems reveal different solutions. Your desperation engineering might have applications in our conventional systems."
"That's..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "You're serious."
"Always serious about engineering."
"Right. Of course." She rubbed her face, exhaustion finally catching up to her. "Okay. Tomorrow. Meeting with the Captain. Then we can talk about why cobbling together incompatible power systems was actually good engineering."
"Exactly."
I left before the conversation could spiral further, my mind already racing through the evaluation data, the recommendations I'd make, the complications of integrating sixteen extraordinary humans into Mothership's systems.
This was going to be interesting.
My communicator chimed before I could return to my station. Captain Tor'van's voice: "Er'dox, report to the bridge. We've detected another signal, same signature as the human beacon. There are more survivors out there."
"On my way, Captain."