Chapter 10 #3
"Two crew members injured because we got close," Vaxon said, his voice carrying barely controlled fury. "This isn't just sabotage anymore. This is assault."
"This is escalation," Er'dox corrected. "They're getting desperate. Good. Desperate beings make mistakes."
I wasn't sure I agreed with his assessment, but I kept monitoring the data anyway. The saboteur had proven they were willing to cause harm to avoid capture. That changed everything.
"Dana," Er'dox said quietly. "Analysis. What did we learn?"
I forced myself to think past the immediate crisis, to analyze the encounter clinically.
"They're monitoring internal sensors through power network access.
They have level-four engineering clearance, which is why they can access restricted areas.
They're sophisticated enough to trigger controlled power surges as defensive measures.
And they're willing to harm crew members to protect their operation. "
"Which means?"
"Which means they're not just covering tracks. They're protecting something. Something important enough to risk escalating from sabotage to assault."
Er'dox nodded slowly. "What are they protecting?"
That was the question, wasn't it? What was worth this level of risk? What was worth the careful infiltration, the sophisticated power network manipulation, the willingness to cause casualties?
I pulled up the original sabotage data, the power bleed Dana had detected two weeks ago. Compared it to the subsequent incidents. The pattern wasn't random. It was methodical. Deliberate. Building toward something.
"They're stealing power," I said slowly. "Not much. Not enough to trigger alarms. But consistently, over time. They're siphoning energy from Mothership's distribution network and storing it somewhere."
"For what purpose?"
"I don't know. But it takes significant energy reserves to..." I trailed off as the implication hit me. "Er'dox. How much power would it take to activate a communications array capable of reaching across interstellar distances?"
His expression darkened. "Significant amounts. More than standard ship systems could provide without detection. But if someone was slowly accumulating reserves over weeks or months—"
"They could broadcast a signal without using Mothership's official communication systems. A signal no one would detect because it wasn't coming from monitored channels."
We stared at each other as the full implication crystallized.
Someone aboard Mothership was building a covert long-range communications system.
Someone with enough technical expertise to infiltrate power networks, enough clearance to access restricted areas, and enough desperation to assault crew members who got too close.
Someone who needed to communicate with someone else. Someone not aboard Mothership.
"We need to find where they're storing the power," Er'dox said. "That'll lead us to their communication equipment. Dana, can your algorithm—"
"Already on it." I was modifying the detection parameters again, this time scanning for unusual power accumulation rather than active transmission. "Give me twenty minutes. If they've got a significant energy reserve stored somewhere, I'll find it."
Er'dox opened the comm. "Captain Tor'van, Engineering. We need an emergency briefing. I think we've figured out what the saboteur is really doing."
The meeting happened in Tor'van's office thirty minutes later, after I'd finished my analysis and confirmed what I'd found.
The power reserve was hidden in a supposedly decommissioned equipment bay on deck sixty-two, officially listed as unused storage, actually containing enough accumulated energy to power a small city for several days.
Or broadcast a signal across light-years.
"They've been planning this for a while," I explained, displaying the power accumulation timeline. "Small draws from multiple systems, distributed carefully to avoid detection. By my calculations, they've stored enough power to transmit a sustained signal for approximately six hours."
"Six hours to reach whom?" Captain Tor'van's cybernetic eye glowed brighter. "And why the elaborate deception?"
"Unknown. But whoever they're trying to contact isn't using standard communication protocols. This is covert, unofficial, designed to bypass all our monitoring systems."
Vaxon leaned forward, his injuries from the power surge visible despite medical treatment. "Could this be related to the Liberty survivors? Someone trying to contact other scattered groups?"
"Possible," Er'dox said. "Bail's signal worked using similar principles—covert communication through adapted technology. If someone else found Liberty debris and learned those techniques—"
"But why hide it?" I interrupted. "If another survivor wanted to contact us, why not just contact us? Why the sabotage and the secrecy?"
No one had an answer to that.
"We secure the equipment bay," Tor'van decided.
"Full security lockdown. No one enters without explicit authorization.
Vaxon, I want every crew member with level-four engineering clearance accounted for and monitored.
Er'dox, Dana, keep your algorithm running.
If they try to access their stored power, we'll be ready. "
The meeting adjourned, but Er'dox caught my arm before I could leave. "Twelve hours rest. You promised."
"But the investigation—"
"Will continue without you for twelve hours. Dana, you found the sabotage. You developed the detection algorithm. You traced their power storage. You've done enough." His voice softened. "I need you sharp for whatever comes next. That means actual rest."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to insist I was fine, that I could keep monitoring, that stopping now meant risking the saboteur escaping again. But exhaustion was pulling at my thoughts, making analysis harder, slowing reactions.
"Okay," I said finally. "Twelve hours. But you call me if anything develops."
"Deal."
I returned to quarters, found Jalina, Bea, and Elena waiting with food they'd saved from dinner. We ate together, talked about the day, avoided discussing how close we'd come to losing security team members to a saboteur's defensive measures.
Normal. Or as close to normal as displaced humans aboard an alien city-ship could manage.
At 2200 hours, I collapsed onto my sleeping platform and was unconscious within minutes.
I didn't dream about burning planets or cosmic disasters.
I dreamed about amber eyes and careful touches and the terrifying possibility that I was falling for someone I couldn't have.
I woke at 0300 to my communicator shrieking emergency alerts.
Er'dox's voice, tight with controlled fury: "Dana. Get to Engineering. Now. The saboteur just made their move."
I was running before I was fully conscious.
This was it.