by Zen DiPietro
Minho stared intently at the voicecom panel. “Either the pressure indicator is faulty, or the seal sensor is.”
“Let’s find out which,” she said. “If pressure is accurate, I should be able to do a brief exhaust of the air vents and it won’t affect the air mix inside.”
“Good thought to test,” Minho said. “Unless the air filtration sensors are faulty.”
“One thing at a time, I guess,” she said. “Venting.” After a count of three, she turned off the vent. Then she counted to ten and checked the air quality of the sealed-off portion of the deck.
“It’s stable. I don’t think we have a containment breach.”
“Seems unlikely,” Minho agreed. “We should have some reinforcements in suits coming any minute, so let’s let them go in and confirm.”
“You don’t want to suit up and do it ourselves?”
He shook his head. “They’ve gotten a good shakeup. It’s good for them to get practice, and they’ll feel better if they had some part in all this.”
She understood. “It would be a bummer for them to show up here, adrenaline high, only to be told it was nothing and that they should go away.”
He nodded. “Exactly. Since there doesn’t appear to be a real emergency, it’s better to let them handle the situation. Especially for the two who will remain on the station.”
They monitored the situation while the minutes ticked by. Seven minutes after Fallon and Minho had arrived, Katheryn, Jess, and Priestley showed up, fully kitted out in pressure suits.
Not bad time at all, considering they had to get into the suits then make their way here in them, which would have slowed their progress a little.
Plus, they all acted as if Minho and Fallon weren’t standing there in their jammies. Fallon mentally gave them extra professionalism points for that.
“Good news,” Minho told the newcomers. “We’re pretty sure we’re only looking at a sensor repair. However, it will be up to you three to go in, confirm that containment is solid, and do the repair. Are you up for it?”
Jess and Katheryn nodded immediately, with Priestly following with a quick, not entirely certain nod a moment later.
“Until we know for certain,” Minho advised, “proceed with the assumption that containment has been breached. Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Do this by the book.”
Katheryn led the way around the deck to the emergency airlock into the section. Unlike a regular airlock, it was little more than a tiny buffer zone that could accommodate four people at a time to ensure the sealed region couldn’t contaminate the rest of the station.
Fallon and Minho watched the team’s progress on the voicecom. The three entered the sealed-off portion of the deck and retrieved equipment from a supply locker.
Within moments, Katheryn reported, “There’s no breach. The sensor’s indicating one, but everything’s fine in here.”
Fallon had suspected as much, but relaxed, nonetheless. Even the outside chance of a containment breach was a huge issue—not only from a safety standpoint, but also as a major obstacle in getting the station set up and ready for the rest of the crew to arrive. Most of those people were already in route. A delay caused by a structural failure would have been a major issue.
The three of them worked well at diagnosing the failure and replacing the faulty sensor. Even Priestley performed with a high degree of skill and professionalism, once he got to work.
Katheryn spoke over the voicecom. “Activating the new sensor. Then I’ll proceed with an auto-diagnostic cycle to clear the malfunction.”
Minho said nothing and simply watched.
The new sensor snapped to life and a moment later, the containment alert prompted a second-level self-diagnostic from the system.
The alert disappeared.
“All systems functioning properly,” Katheryn reported, her voice full of satisfaction.
“Very good,” Minho said. “You can proceed with unsealing the section. Then begin an investigation into that faulty sensor. Find out if we have more from that batch, and do a manual inspection of all critical sensors. Then log a critical failure for the component with PAC command. They’ll follow up with the manufacturer.”
“Understood,” Katheryn said.
“Good work.”
“Thank you.” Katheryn’s voice was clipped and professional, but obviously pleased.
“Let’s go,” Minho said.
“We’re not going to stay here and supervise?” Fallon asked, surprised.
“Nope. This is their job. Of course, we’ll follow up on everything independently to double-check their work, but I think they’ll do just fine.”
“Hm.” Fallon followed him back to the lift, feeling a bit let down.
“Problem?” he asked.
“No. We’re lucky not to be dealing with a major problem right now. It’s good.”
“But you were all set to do something exciting, right? And you’re just headed back to your quarters instead.” He smiled knowingly.
She rolled a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Adrenaline rush is hard to deny.”
“Yeah. But this is the job. False alarms happen. You have to either get used to it, or find a way to work out your excess energy. A good workout can do the trick.”
She smiled. “Are you offering some sparring?”
They hadn’t done that since arriving on Asimov. She missed their training sessions. She always had a great time when they were trying to cripple each other.
“No,” he retorted. “I’m a grown-up with self-control and don’t need to work out excess energy. Since my subordinate is so needy, though…I guess I could.”
She scoffed. “Don’t do me any favors. I can just go for a run or lift some weights.”
“What kind of mentor would I be if I relegated you to that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’m good.”
He was silent for a moment before saying in a quieter voice, “Well, now that you mention it, a bit of sparring would be good.”
She laughed. “You’re so transparent.”
“Am not,” he denied.
“If you were any more transparent, you’d be air.”
“Hey,” he said, pretending to be offended.
She grinned at him and he grinned back.
Fallon thought of something they’d never competed in. Something she had no doubt she’d win. “So how are you at knife throwing?”
“In my defense,” Minho said two hours later, “knife-throwing is not my specialty.”
She laughed, pulling knives out of the makeshift target they’d created on the wall in her quarters.
She’d be sure to get that patched up before she left the station.
“Fine,” she said. “What’s your specialty? We’ll compete at that.”
“My specialty’s axe-throwing,” he said.
She looked at him, expecting to see a joking smile, but he looked serious. “Wait…not really, right?”
“Why not?” he asked.
“There’s no practical purpose for that.”
“Okay. You got me. I’m not a champion axe-thrower,” he admitted.
She snorted and returned her set of practice throwing knives to the bandolier she stored them in. “So what’s your specialty?”
He put his hands on his hips and leveled a look at her. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
She pointed at the door. “Out! Out you go. Good night!”
He smiled. “All right. I’m tired, anyway.”
As he passed, he put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair, as he might have done to a child. “Get some rest, Sparky. I expect you to be on-duty at the appointed hour.”
“Sparky?” She scrunched up her face.
He shrugged. “Trying it out. Doesn’t seem like it fits. Anyway, good night.”
She made a get out gesture at him and, with another grin, he ducked out of her quarters.
Once he was gone, she permitted herse
lf to smile.
4
After another long day of installing security on Asimov, Fallon met up with Katheryn Lee for a drink in the lieutenant’s quarters. It was the first time she’d received such an invitation, so Fallon was curious, even though she was tired from not sleeping much the night before.
“What can I get you?” Katheryn asked when Fallon had taken a seat on the couch in her quarters. Other than being a bit smaller, the space was similar to Fallon’s own temporary living situation. The décor was a little more elaborate, with creamy yellow and sage green details.
“I don’t know,” Fallon said. “What do you have?”
Katheryn returned with three bottles. “Alturian brandy, Zerellian ale, and Terran tequila. My own private stash. I don’t often share, so enjoy it while you can.”
The lieutenant grinned, then ducked her head, perhaps having second thoughts about her cheeky response.
“I’ll have the Terran tequila,” Fallon decided. “I like the alliteration.”
Katheryn grabbed two cups and returned, sitting down to pour them each a shot of tequila. She lifted her cup. “One shot?”
Fallon shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
They each tossed a shot back, then slammed the cups down on the table, as custom dictated.
“I don’t have much in the way of mixers,” Katheryn said apologetically. “I was lucky to fit these into my luggage.”
“No worries,” Fallon assured her. “I grew up in a culture where drinking well is considered a skill. And even if I hadn’t, I went to school with a guy who would have made me learn.”
She smiled, thinking of Hawk and the fun nights they’d had in his favorite bars. She hoped that, wherever he was, he’d found a watering hole to tide him over.
“A boyfriend?” Katheryn asked with a sly expression.
Fallon laughed. “Oh, no, never. We definitely weren’t each other’s type for that sort of thing. We were more like best friends and soul mates.”
“Ah.” Katheryn poured another pair of shots and they downed them. After a pause, she spoke again. “What about you and Minho?”
“What about us?”
“You two seem very well-suited,” Katheryn observed.
Fallon shook her head. “We are, but not like that. There’s nothing at all romantic going on between us.”
“Really?” Katheryn seemed surprised. “You seem perfect for each other.”
Fallon sensed that she and Minho had been gossiped about among the crew. And why not? There was little enough on Asimov at present to keep people entertained. Some new blood around the place to fuel speculation was fair game.
“Really,” Fallon assured her. “We’re just friends and colleagues.”
Fallon saw a glint of something in Katheryn’s expression, and came to a revelation of her own. “You’re interested in him.”
Katheryn’s cheeks went pink. “Well, who wouldn’t be?” She made a gesture that was probably supposed to appear easygoing, but actually came across as self-conscious.
Fallon decided to let her off the hook. “Sure, he’s good-looking and genuinely nice. I imagine he gets a lot of romantic interest.”
Katheryn sighed and sank back into the couch cushions. “You’re right. He’s out of my league.”
Fallon chuckled. “I said nothing of the sort. In fact, I don’t know anything about what kind of person he likes, so maybe you’re exactly his type.”
Katheryn perked up slightly. “You think so?”
“Anything’s possible.”
Katheryn smiled. “You’re teasing me.”
“My words are sincere. I’m just saying them in a teasing manner because this feels perilously close to girl talk.”
Katheryn poured them each a third shot. “There’s nothing wrong with girl talk, so long as it isn’t mean-spirited. Womanly bonding is important.” She nodded for emphasis. “Especially in situations of limited interpersonal contact.”
Fallon set her cup on the table. “Uh oh. That sounds like PAC psychological training for deep-space missions.”
“I’m the kind of girl who does her homework,” Katheryn declared.
Fallon smiled. It hadn’t been long since they’d downed their first shots, but Katheryn seemed a little tipsy already. Maybe she’d warmed up with a shot or two before Fallon had arrived. The thought amused her, and made her like Katheryn Lee a little more than she already did.
If the lieutenant was feeling a little more loose-lipped than usual, it might be a good time to probe her about the crew. She’d been with them longer than Fallon had, and might have some insights.
“How has it been, working here all this time? I bet you’re ready for the place to be populated.”
Katheryn nodded. “I really am. I’m curious to meet the captain, and eager to get to a regular daily schedule.”
“And be a command officer for the first time,” Fallon added.
“Sure.”
“Have any of the set-up crew caused you any trouble?”
Katheryn pursed her lips thoughtfully. “There were a few minor disagreements amongst them in terms of who would work on what, but that got worked out pretty quickly. So no, no real problems.”
Fallon nodded slowly and said nothing, letting the silence stretch out and become awkward in the hope that it would prompt Katheryn to keep talking about the crew.
“They all have their positive attributes and their quirks,” Katheryn said. “It was just a matter of getting to know them a little to figure out how best to work as a team. I think we do pretty well now, with most people working pretty independently.”
“Who’s the most independent?” Fallon asked.
“Jess, probably,” Katheryn said. “She’s very experienced, and sometimes that means she’s a little opinionated, but she knows her stuff.”
“Does anyone clash with her?”
“No, not now. There were a few misunderstandings at first because people weren’t accustomed to her bluntness, but like I said, that kind of thing resolved itself pretty quickly.”
“You got lucky, then,” Fallon said. “Imagine if you’d had a bunch of big personalities who were quick to take offense.”
Katheryn grimaced. “That’s a good point. I’ll have to send PAC command a thank-you letter for the assignment.”
She waited a beat, then they both laughed.
“You know,” Fallon said, “I believe Minho likes Zerellian ale. Maybe you should invite him along next time.”
“You don’t think that would be weird?”
“I think it would be weird if you didn’t,” Fallon countered. “We’re the top three ranking officers here. Officers tend to get pretty tight when they’re assigned to a station or some other far-flung location.”
“Hm. Okay. We’ll do that one night.” Katheryn nodded. She seemed stone sober now, so maybe her previous appearance of tipsiness had just been self-consciousness.
“Maybe at the end of the week,” Fallon said. “We’re doing a hard push to finish installation of the security system. I’m sure we’ll be glad to celebrate having that stage done.”
Katheryn nodded. “Moving on to diagnostics will be nice. By that point, all parts of the station will be fully operational.”
“I love those two words, when put together. They’re nice, don’t you think?”
Katheryn laughed. “Fully operational? Yeah. It definitely beats the alternative.”
Fallon smiled and stood. “Well, thank you for inviting me over and sharing your stash.”
“No problem. I have more coming on the next delivery.”
“Oh, so you’re just being stingy by not sharing with the rest of the crew,” Fallon teased.
“Nah.” Katheryn took the cups to the kitchenette and returned. “I just know that if I become the source, I will always be the source. No thank you. They can order their own.”
“Smart thinking. I like it. See you tomorrow.”
“Yep. Sleep well.”
Fallon waved
before stepping out the door. She went to her quarters, only a short walk down the corridor. Checking the time, she saw that she’d be able to get a nice, long rest that night.
Good. She needed it. Both because she felt a little sleep-deprived, and because the coming week was going to be intensely busy.
“Where are you?” Minho’s voice came over Fallon’s comport. “I thought we were going to meet at Katheryn’s to celebrate completing the installation.”
Fallon scooted down a maintenance conduit. “I had some time, so I thought I’d start doing manual checks of all the drones, since that’s the next step.”
“Well, I hope you’re not planning to do them all tonight.”
“Hah. Hardly. That wouldn’t even be possible. Even after recruiting some of the others to do this, it will still take a couple of days.”
“All the more reason for you not to be late today,” Minho said.
“Wow, you’re not afraid of being alone with her, are you?”
“Of course not. But being alone with her in her quarters…well, I’d rather not. I suspect she has a crush on me.”
“You suspect correctly, I think,” Fallon said.
“Well, hurry up, then.”
She finished checking the security drone installed in this conduit. It was in good order. “Fine. On my way.”
“One more?” Katheryn asked, holding the bottle of Zerellian ale.
“Sure,” Fallon said.
Katheryn poured a shot for herself, Fallon, and Minho, and said, “One shot!”
They all downed it.
“This has been fun,” Katheryn said. “I hope it’s like this when the captain and the rest of the permanent crew arrive.”
“I’m sure you’ll find people to hang out with—officers and contractors alike,” Minho said. “And stations have such a mix of people always arriving and departing that things tend to stay interesting.”
“I hope so,” Katheryn said. “I’ve heard some horror stories about being assigned to a space station.”
“Ignore them,” Minho advised. “People like to tell horror stories. They’re fun. They’re usually very overexaggerated, too.”