Chapter 10
Dana
I rolled out of the sleeping platform, my body protesting in ways that suggested yesterday's field mission had used muscles I'd forgotten existed.
Lower gravity planet. Extended time in an environmental suit.
Eight hours of post-mission analysis followed by algorithm development while running on fumes.
My engineer brain cataloged the physical complaints with clinical detachment: manageable discomfort, nothing that would compromise performance.
Jalina was already awake, reviewing something on her datapad. She glanced up when I moved. "You're up early."
"Er'dox is implementing my detection algorithm this morning. I want to be there when it goes live."
"Of course you do." She set down the datapad. "How's Bail?"
"Stable. Talking. Alive." I grabbed the uniform Mothership had provided, trying to make myself look like someone who hadn't spent most of yesterday either terrified or exhausted. "He wants to meet everyone. Zorn says maybe tomorrow if his recovery continues on track."
"Seventeen survivors." Jalina's voice carried wonder mixed with grief. "One more person who didn't have to die alone."
"One more person who gets to be part of this disaster we're calling integration." I finished dressing, checked my portable interface for messages. Nothing urgent. "How was your shift?"
"Fascinating. Zorn showed me their approach to xeno-pharmaceutical development. They synthesize compounds based on species-specific biochemistry rather than trial-and-error testing. Dana, they can create targeted treatments without experimentation that would take human medicine decades to develop."
"Decades ahead of us in most things," I observed. "Must be humbling."
"It's inspiring. All this knowledge, all these techniques, we get to learn it. Become part of it." She stood, moved to the facilities area. "You coming to breakfast? Elena said something about group meal before shifts."
"I need to get to Engineering. Tell everyone I'll catch up later."
Jalina gave me that look, the one that said she knew I was avoiding downtime but wasn't going to push. "Don't work yourself into collapse. Er'dox might actually lock you out of Engineering if you do."
"He wouldn't dare."
"Try him and find out."
I left before that conversation could spiral into actual concern for my wellbeing.
The corridors were busier than usual, shift change, crew members moving to their assigned stations with practiced efficiency.
I'd learned to navigate the foot traffic over the past two weeks, though getting around beings twice my height still required spatial awareness that felt like advanced geometry.
Engineering was already active when I arrived. The day shift was settling in, checking systems, reviewing overnight reports. Er'dox stood at his central command station, his bronze skin seeming to glow under the console lights. He noticed my entrance immediately.
"Dana. Seven hours and forty-three minutes. That's not eight hours."
"That's functionally equivalent to eight hours for all practical purposes."
"Practical purposes require actual rest, not negotiated minimums." But he gestured to my station. "Your algorithm is configured. We're running final diagnostics before deployment."
I climbed into my seat, pulled up the system status. Everything looked clean, my code integrated smoothly into Mothership's monitoring architecture, the timing correlation analysis ready to activate on command.
"Diagnostics complete," Krev announced from his station. "Algorithm is stable across all test parameters. Ready for deployment."
Er'dox studied the readouts for a long moment, running calculations I couldn't see. Then he nodded. "Deploy it. Start passive monitoring. Dana, you're on primary analysis, any timing patterns that match command signal characteristics get flagged for immediate review."
"Understood."
The algorithm went live with barely a ripple across Engineering's displays. That was the point—invisible monitoring, undetectable surveillance, waiting for the saboteur to make their next move.
"Now we wait," Er'dox said.
Waiting was harder than working. Active problems I could solve. Passive monitoring meant watching data streams for hours, searching for patterns that might not exist, trying to catch someone who knew they were being hunted.
I settled into the rhythm of it. Scan the displays, check timing correlations, cross-reference against baseline parameters.
Around me, Engineering moved through its usual controlled chaos.
Power distribution adjustments. System maintenance.
The constant work of keeping a city-sized vessel functional.
Two hours in, my algorithm flagged its first potential match.
"Er'dox." I pulled up the correlation data. "Got something in subsection seventeen. Timing pattern matches command signal characteristics, microsecond delays propagating through the network in sequential order."
He was at my station within seconds, his large frame leaning over to study my displays. "Verify it's not normal system traffic."
I ran the analysis, comparing the pattern against known operational signatures. "Negative. This is discrete. Someone's sending instructions through the power network right now."
"Can you trace it?"
"Working on it." My fingers moved across the interface, following the timing pattern backward through the network topology. "Command signal is originating from deck forty-two, junction seven. That's—"
"Lower engineering spaces," Er'dox finished. "Maintenance area, rarely accessed during active shifts." He opened a comm channel. "Vaxon. Engineering. We've got a trace on the saboteur's location. Deck forty-two, junction seven."
Vaxon's response was immediate. "The security team is moving. Keep monitoring in case they relocate."
I watched the timing pattern continue its propagation, whoever was controlling it seemingly unaware they'd been detected. The command signal was elegant with sophisticated power modulation that would have been invisible without my algorithm specifically looking for timing correlations.
"They're good," I murmured. "Really good. This level of system integration takes expertise and time to develop."
"Which means they've been planning this for a while." Er'dox was monitoring his own displays. "Vaxon's team is approaching the location. They should have visual contact in ninety seconds."
Ninety seconds felt like ninety minutes. I watched the timing pattern, watched the propagation continue uninterrupted, watched the data streams that told me someone was actively manipulating Mothership's power network for purposes I still didn't understand.
Then the pattern stopped.
Not gradually. Not with the slow wind-down of a completed transmission. Just stopped, like someone had severed the connection mid-instruction.
"They knew," I said. "They detected the security approach and cut the signal."
Er'dox's expression darkened. "Vaxon, report."
Static for three seconds. Then Vaxon's voice, tight with frustration: "Location is empty. No personnel, no equipment. But there are access panels that show recent use. Someone was here."
"Can you determine who?"
"Running analysis now. This junction requires level-three engineering clearance. That's forty-seven personnel shipwide who could access this location without triggering security alerts."
Forty-seven suspects. Better than our previous pool, but still too many.
"Check for bio-signatures," Er'dox ordered. "Skin cells, hair, anything they might have left behind."
"Already on it. But Er'dox, they were careful. This area's been scrubbed clean—no obvious biological evidence."
I studied the timing pattern's abrupt termination, trying to reconstruct what had happened. "They have monitoring capability. Had to—there's no other way they'd know security was approaching in time to evacuate."
"Which means they're watching security channels, monitoring team movements, staying one step ahead." Er'dox pulled up internal security protocols. "Vaxon, assume all communications are compromised. Switch to encrypted tactical channels for coordination."
"Already done. I'm posting teams at critical junctions, but without knowing who we're looking for..."
"We narrow it down. Dana's algorithm proved the command signal exists. We just need to bait them into using it again."
I was already thinking through the logistics. "The trap you mentioned on the bridge. The one where we announce countermeasures with obvious flaws. If we implement that, they'll have to respond, either to adjust their approach or to exploit the weaknesses we're 'accidentally' revealing."
"Risky," Vaxon said through the comm. "If they realize it's a trap—"
"Then we've confirmed they have deep enough system access to monitor command-level planning," I finished. "Which is valuable intelligence. Er'dox is right, we use their methodology against them."
Silence on the channel while they processed. Then Vaxon: "Your call, Chief Engineer. But if this goes wrong—"
"It won't. Dana's algorithm caught them once. It'll catch them again." Er'dox looked at me directly. "Can you modify the detection parameters? Make it more sensitive to any power network activity that matches their signature?"
"Easily. But more sensitive means more false positives. We'll be chasing ghosts."
"Better to chase ghosts than miss the real threat. Implement it."
I dove into the algorithm modifications, adjusting detection thresholds, expanding the correlation analysis to catch even subtle variations of the command signal pattern.
Around me, Engineering continued its work, as the tension built.
Someone aboard Mothership, someone with technical expertise and intimate system knowledge, was actively sabotaging operations. And now they knew we were hunting them.