Chapter 7 #2
"What the—" Dana was already pulling up data. "Er'dox, this doesn't make sense. The variance pattern is different from the bleed. This looks like deliberate overload."
I was at my central command station in seconds, analyzing the cascade. She was right, this wasn't the original sabotage. This was a distraction, a system-wide attack designed to overwhelm our monitoring capacity.
"All stations, emergency protocols," I ordered. "Prioritize critical systems, life support, propulsion, structural integrity. Everything else is secondary."
My team moved with practiced efficiency, but the attack was sophisticated. Whoever designed this understood our response protocols, knew exactly which systems to hit to cause maximum chaos with minimum actual damage.
The comm from Vaxon: "Engineering, Security. Cargo bay three is empty. No unauthorized equipment, no signs of access. Whatever Dana detected, they moved it before we arrived."
"They knew we were coming," I said. "This system-wide attack is cover for relocating their operation. Dana, can you track the power bleed in real-time?"
"I'm trying, but with all this interference—" She stopped, eyes widening. "Wait. The interference pattern itself is wrong. The variance is too coordinated, too precise. Er'dox, I don't think this is an attack. I think it's a signal."
"A signal?"
"Look at the timing." She pulled up a correlation analysis. "The variance spikes occur in repeating patterns across different subsections. It's not random. It's intentional. Someone's using our power distribution network as a communication system."
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant observation that I should have caught myself. The variance pattern wasn't chaos—it was structured, organized, carrying information.
"Can you decode it?"
"I can try, but I don't know what encoding system—" Dana paused, something shifting in her expression.
"Actually, maybe I do. This pattern reminds me of something from Liberty.
We used power grid modulation for secure communication during emergency situations.
If someone studied our technology and adapted it. .."
She was already working, her fingers moving faster than I could track. Cross-referencing the variance pattern against databases, running decoding algorithms, testing hypotheses.
The pattern resolved into recognizable data.
"It's coordinates," Dana breathed. "Someone's broadcasting spatial coordinates through our power network. And they're using modified human encoding because they want humans specifically to find it."
"Where are the coordinates pointing?"
She pulled up navigation data. "System seven-three-nine, third planet. That's near where we found the derelict Liberty fragment two weeks ago."
The implications hit me immediately. Someone knew about the Liberty debris field. Someone had accessed it, studied human technology, and was now using that knowledge to communicate covertly through Mothership's systems.
And they were specifically trying to reach the humans we'd rescued.
"I need to report this to Captain Tor'van," I said. "Dana, compile everything—the original bleed detection, the signal analysis, the decoded coordinates. Complete documentation."
"You think this is connected to Liberty?"
"I think someone found your ship and learned enough about human technology to infiltrate our systems. That's either extremely concerning or potentially valuable, depending on who they are and what they want."
I opened a priority channel to the bridge. "Captain Tor'van, Engineering. We have a situation that requires immediate command attention."
While I briefed the Captain, Dana continued her analysis, pulling together evidence with the methodical precision I'd come to expect from her. By the time Tor'van summoned us to his office, she had a complete report compiled.
The walk to the Command Sector was tense.
Dana moved beside me, radiating nervous energy but maintaining professional composure.
She'd proven herself in Engineering, now she'd have to prove herself to command staff who might not appreciate a two-week crew member making discoveries that should have been caught by senior personnel.
Captain Tor'van's office was already full when we arrived. Vaxon, Zor'go, Zorn, all the department heads assembled for an emergency briefing. They looked at Dana with varying degrees of surprise and calculation.
"Engineer Er'dox," Tor'van said. "Explain."
I presented Dana's findings, walking command staff through the detection, analysis, and decoding process. To their credit, they listened without interruption, their expressions shifting from skepticism to concern as implications became clear.
"Someone infiltrated our power distribution network," Vaxon said when I finished. "Used it for covert communication. And they specifically targeted the human survivors." He turned his intense gaze on Dana. "You're certain the encoding is human-derived?"
"Ninety-eight percent certain," Dana said, her voice steady despite obvious tension. "The modulation pattern matches Liberty's emergency communication protocols. Someone either salvaged our systems or reverse-engineered them from recovered data."
"Which suggests survivors," Zorn observed. "Other humans from Liberty who found the derelict, studied its technology, and are now trying to contact your group."
"Or raiders who captured survivors and are using their knowledge to infiltrate Mothership," Vaxon countered. "We can't assume friendly intent."
"We also can't assume hostile intent without investigation," I said. "The coordinates point to a specific location. We need reconnaissance."
Captain Tor'van studied the data for a long moment, his cybernetic eye tracking details the rest of us couldn't see. "Vaxon, prepare a reconnaissance team. Er'dox, Dana will accompany—"
"No," Vaxon interrupted. "Absolutely not. She's a two-week crew member with zero tactical training. Taking her on a potentially hostile reconnaissance is—"
"Necessary," I finished. "Because if we encounter human technology or survivors, we need someone who understands their systems and can communicate effectively. Dana has proven she can handle pressure. She comes."
Vaxon looked like he wanted to argue further, but Tor'van raised a hand. "Er'dox is correct. Dana accompanies the reconnaissance team. But she stays with Engineering support, not tactical operations. Vaxon, you'll ensure her safety as mission priority."
"Sir—"
"That's an order, Security Chief."
Vaxon's expression was thunderous, but he nodded. "Understood."
Tor'van turned to Dana. "You've been aboard Mothership for two weeks. You've proven competent in Engineering. Now you'll prove you can handle field operations. Disappoint me, and you'll spend the rest of your debt doing maintenance work in storage bays. Understood?"
"Yes sir." Dana's voice didn't waver, but I could see tension in her shoulders.
"Dismissed. Mission briefing in two hours. Be ready."
We filed out of the office. Dana moved quickly, probably heading back to quarters to prepare. I caught up to her in the corridor.
"You don't have to do this," I said. "I can argue for a different specialist—"
"No. If there are other Liberty survivors out there, I need to be there when we find them." She met my eyes with determination that reminded me exactly why I'd recruited her. "I won't disappoint you."
"I'm not worried about disappointment. I'm worried about safety. Field operations are dangerous, even routine ones. This mission is anything but routine."
"I survived three weeks on a death planet. I think I can handle a reconnaissance mission."
"The death planet wasn't trying to kill you specifically. Hostile beings are different from hostile environments."
Vulnerability showed through Dana’s professional mask. "Are you trying to protect me?"
"I'm trying to keep a valuable engineer alive and functional. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
I didn't answer, because I wasn't entirely sure myself. Professional concern for a crew member's safety was standard. This felt like something more, something that complicated the carefully maintained boundaries of supervisor and subordinate.
"Two hours," I said instead. "Get your gear together. And Dana? Stay close to me during the mission. Whatever we find at those coordinates, we handle it together."
She nodded, and I watched her disappear around the corner before returning to Engineering. Krev was waiting at my station with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"So," he said. "Taking the junior engineer on a potentially dangerous reconnaissance mission. That's certainly a choice."
"She decoded the signal. She understands human technology. Her presence is operationally necessary."
"Right. Operationally necessary. That's definitely the only reason you volunteered to take her into potential combat."
"I didn't volunteer. Captain Tor'van assigned—"
"You argued for her inclusion before the Captain made his decision.
I was monitoring the command channel." Krev's metallic green skin reflected the console lights.
"Er'dox, I've worked with you for three years.
I know when you're making decisions based on logic versus when you're making them based on something else. "
"What something else?"
"That's what worries me. Because if I can see it, others can too. And having feelings for a crew member under your direct supervision is—"
"I don't have feelings," I said too quickly. "I have professional respect for a competent engineer who's proven her capability."
"Keep telling yourself that. Maybe eventually you'll believe it."
He returned to his station, leaving me staring at the central displays and trying to convince myself he was wrong.
Professional respect. Professional concern. Professional boundaries carefully maintained.
That's all this was.
It had to be all this was, because anything else would complicate everything in ways I couldn't afford to process.
I had two hours to prepare for a reconnaissance mission that might be routine or might be catastrophic. Two hours to brief my team, check equipment, review tactical protocols with Vaxon's security personnel.
Two hours to convince myself that Dana's safety was just another operational concern, no different from monitoring power distribution or maintaining structural integrity.
Just another variable in the system.
Nothing more.
The mission prep went exactly as expected with Vaxon briefing tactical protocols with military precision, Dana listening with intensity that suggested she was memorizing every detail, the rest of the team falling into practiced routines.
I watched her check her equipment three times, her engineer's thoroughness applied to field gear she barely knew how to use. I watched her stand slightly apart from the security team, not quite integrated but trying to maintain professional composure.
She was terrified. The tension of her shoulders showed with the careful control of her breathing, the way her hands wanted to shake but she wouldn't let them.
And she was going anyway, because other humans might need help, and Dana would walk through fire before abandoning her people.
That determination was going to get her killed or make her exceptional.
Possibly both.
"Boarding in five minutes," Vaxon announced. "Final equipment check. Move with purpose."
Dana caught my eye across the landing bay, and I saw the question there: Am I ready for this?
I nodded once. Because ready or not, we were going. And whatever we found at those coordinates would change everything.
Again.