by Elin Wyn
The longer I worked on the engine, the more I felt badly that I hadn’t given Maris a chance earlier to show what she was capable of.
I never felt that way. I didn’t have regrets. Didn’t second guess myself. Certainly not about my engine.
I was exhausted, I knew I was.
I had to be if I was beginning to feel bad for running my engine bay the way I wanted to run it.
It had been nearly twenty hours since we had installed the first converter, and all tests had come back positive, but I had to make sure.
Too much depended on it.
I went to compartment one to check on converter one. After connecting my gear, I ran the diagnostic tests, and everything came back optimal. Things were working as they were supposed to be. Numbers two, three, and four all tested the same.
Bypassing the system, the way Maris had, through a hand-built converter made from spare parts and connecting it the way she had…the idea had never crossed my mind. When she had proposed it, I thought she was insane. I fully believed that her idea would fail miserably, and I would be able to kick her out of my engine bay, so I could work freely like I always had.
But she had proven me wrong. I still don’t know for certain how she managed to think of it, but her idea not only worked, it had surpassed expectations. The initial tests had shown a twenty-two percent increase in efficiency. The latest tests now had those numbers at twenty-nine percent. The converters had improved with use.
And I owed Maris an apology, not just for how I had treated her, but for how I had doubted her.
But first I needed some sleep, some real sleep. I headed back to my bunk and slept for hours, after messaging Qal that he could finally fly the ship normally.
While I couldn’t feel the increase in speed, I could hear the engine change from a low rumbling to a more natural purr.
I slept like a newborn babe.
When I woke up, I did a quick check on the engine, which was still working sensationally, then went and cleaned myself up. A fresh shower cleared up my senses and, combined with some real sleep, my mind was back to working clearly again.
I found Maris working at the little bench that I had assigned to her. I stayed back and watched for a few moments as she worked on a control unit for one of the small cranes in the hangar bay.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat as I came up behind her. “Good morning, Maris.”
She shook her head only slightly. “It’s about lunch time. You were asleep for quite a while.” Her voice was cold, lacking the easy warmth we’d build up while working on the project.
I missed it.
“Really?” That was brilliant, I kicked myself. “I suppose I slept longer than anticipated.”
“Mm-hm. So, what can I do for you, Orrin?” She never took her eyes off her work as she cut some new wiring and soldered it into the control panel.
“You might want to go with a stronger gauge wiring there. These control units are notorious for burning out the standard wire,” I suggested as I made my way around her bench, wondering how to crack back through her shell.
“Huh. Should have thought of that. Thanks.” She quickly cut another bit of wiring from a different spool, removed the wire she had been working with, and put the new one in.
“Nice work. That should make the control unit work like it’s supposed to.” She finally looked up at me, a hint of a smile forming on her lips.
I might be getting addicted to those. And I had to go all the way, if I was going to ever have another one soon. “I wanted to talk with you, if you wouldn’t mind.”
She shrugged. “As we said back at home, it’s a free country. You can do what you want.”
I deserved that. “I wanted to apologize.” Her eyes went wide, then back to normal as she leaned back in her chair. I continued, feeling out the words as I spoke them, like testing the path of a problem. “I wanted to let you know that your converters are working as advertised, better, actually, and that your idea was brilliant. I was wrong in not giving you an opportunity to show me.”
“Go on,” she said, face still remote.
I sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy, but I supposed she deserved it. “I was wrong in treating you how I did. You are a fantastic engineer, and instead of blowing you off just because you’re human, I should have given you a chance. You might not know this engine as well as I do, but you have proven that you are intelligent, intuitive, inventive, and that you are more than capable of being able to work, not just here, but nearly anywhere.”
“Nearly?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, there are ships out there with technologies that even I don’t know,” I said hastily.
“Okay.”
I wasn’t sure what else I could say. Maybe the direct truth. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you from the beginning.”
She sat there looking at me, and I was fully expecting her to snap at me, to berate me, to essentially tear my head off in order to yell at me better. And I’d be willing to work through that. Anything but this coldness. But she surprised me yet again.
“It’s okay. Well, it’s not really okay, because I am good at what I do and all I wanted to do was make myself useful and help out, but…” she took a deep breath, then leaned forward in her chair as she let the breath out. “I understand. I might have been a bit overprotective myself if our roles had been switched.”
She was right, again.
I had been overprotective. I trusted my team, but I also restricted what they were able to do without me. I didn’t want them messing with my engine without my being there to help fix mistakes or to see what they were doing. I had built this engine, so I was exceedingly proud of it. She truly was my baby.
Maris continued. “I had hoped that my helping to rework our output signature would have shown that I knew some things but, I do understand. I accept your apology, on one condition.”
“What’s that?” I asked, a tiny flicker of worry winding its way through my good intentions.
“Can I actually have some real work to do instead of all of these piddling little things?” she stood up and walked away from the workbench, then turned around. “I don’t mind doing the little stuff, but I would like to be able to work with you on other projects. I want to learn how the engine works and maybe offer some ideas without them being tossed aside just because. Can we do that?”
“So, allow me to understand what you’re asking.” I said as I rounded the workbench and approached her, examining her. I had always seen her, but never paid attention to her. Her dark black hair curled its way down to her shoulders, when it wasn’t tied back to stay out of her face. Her grease-smudged face, darker in complexion than some of the other humans, highlighted her gray-colored eyes. I’d seen those eyes burn with a fury even a Tutahn would respect when she was angry but blazed with a level of intelligence screaming to be used.
I wasn’t going to let that intelligence be held back anymore.
“You want to work, you want to learn, and you want to be more than a human disrespected simply because your boss is a perfectionist. Am I close?”
She didn’t even bother to hide the smile. “Yeah, seems about right.”
I made a show of thinking about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. You’ve earned it and more than deserve it. I would count it as an honor to be able to work together with you.”
She gave me a big nod. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Now…I do have a small list of projects all over the ship that need to be worked on,” I said as I pulled my tablet from my pocket. “Would you care to help me?”
“Little jobs?” she asked.
“Some, but believe it or not, they’re all important. I’ll let you pick which one you want to work on and if you need any information, I’ll gladly share.”
With a shrug, she smiled and held out her hand. “Sounds like a plan.”
I matched her smile and handed over the pad.
Maris
Or
rin and I stayed up all night rewiring the registration chip, so the Rogue Star could get into the port of Qasar Station. We’d already created a set of fake chips when the ship docked in Katzul, however, scanning a registration chip in Katzul was more like a ceremony than an actual security check.
Not surprising after finding out that alien women were auctioned off to wealthy Katzul citizens. I bet we could’ve used our original flagged registration, linked to our criminal status, and we still would’ve been allowed in the port.
The Qasar Station was going to be more challenging. Yes, it was largely ignored by the Dominion due to its remote location, but it was a legitimate station. I didn’t get the sense this station frequented the same gray areas that Katzul seemed to live in.
Orrin and I checked, double checked, and triple checked that our fake chip would pass for a real one on the most sophisticated of systems. Well, any system as sophisticated as the one on the Rogue Star, at least. I hoped it would be enough, but until we were safely docked, I’d worry.
I pushed against the door to my room, nearly smacking into Aryn.
“What are you doing up?” I grumbled.
“What do you mean? It’s nearly time for the morning shift to start!” she replied, tugging on her work boots.
“What?” I demanded.
“Have you been in the workshop all this time?” Aryn asked. I nodded and tried to cover up a massive yawn with my hand.
“Orrin and I were working on a new registration chip.” My mind flickered for just a moment to his hands, strong and sure, reaching between mine for another tool as we worked side by side.
“Usually you’re in a foul mood after working alongside Orrin.” Aryn narrowed her eyes. “What happened?”
“Actually, we got along well,” I said, as surprised as she was now that I thought about it. “He’s calmed down after my engine modifications worked.”
“I knew he’d come around to your genius one day,” Aryn smirked.
“I didn’t think we’d work together as well as we did,” I admitted. “Now that he trusts me in the workshop, I expected him to leave me alone and let me work. Instead, he started working with me. As it turns out, we make a good team.”
“I think you need to sleep,” Aryn snorted. “You’re praising Orrin.”
“I know,” I laughed. “I’m more surprised than you are. I might’ve judged him too severely.”
“You? Never,” Aryn protested, and rolled her eyes.
“All hands prepare for arrival.” I heard Qal’s voice through the intercom speakers mounted on the walls in the corridors, even though the door was closed.
“We’re here!” Aryn exclaimed. “Finally! I’m going to lose my mind if I have to spend another day trapped on this ship.”
I crossed the room and put my face up to the window.
“Come here!” I waved to Aryn. “You can see everything through the window.”
Aryn and I peered through the porthole, cheek to cheek, to take in the sight of the space station.
I’d never given space stations much thought. Persephone Station was grounded to Pluto’s icy surface. Its structures were bulky, angular, primarily made of steel ten inches thick to handle the cold. Qasar Station was a work of architectural genius.
For one thing, it was massive. It looked like a city big enough to rival Katzul. Beautiful domes that looked like glazed amber protected the station from the vacuum of space. The domes were held up by a flat metal structure of interlocked circles. The underside of the disk-like metal structure had a stalactite-like appearance, constructed of all sorts of materials. I assumed it made up the working underbelly of the city.
“I wasn’t expecting anything like that,” Aryn breathed in awe.
“Me, either,” I replied, searching for clues. How did it all work? What kept it together? “I wonder what’s in the domes.”
“Captain said this was a mechanical station, didn’t he?” Aryn remarked. “That could be where they store all of the ships awaiting repair.”
“That’d be a lot of ships, then.” I stared at the domes, wide-eyed. “Let’s go get a better look from the observation deck.” Aryn and I pulled away from the window and rushed out the door. The exhaustion that had pressed on me minutes ago faded away into nothing.
Others had the same idea of gathering on the observation deck. Aryn and I joined Shenna, Lynna, and Kalyn as the Rogue Star drifted closer to the floating city.
“This isn’t going to be anything like Katzul, right?” Shenna asked. “Katzul was a fun adventure, but I’m not up for doing it all over again.” She laughed uneasily.
“It’s supposedly the polar opposite of Katzul,” Kalyn assured her. “Most of the residents are travelers, like us. They stay here when their ships are in need of repair.”
“Are they also wanted criminals, like us?” I snorted.
“I wish you wouldn’t call us that,” Lynna said in distress.
“It’s what we are here,” I shrugged. “It’s what most of us were on the Terran System, too.”
“I wasn’t,” Lynna replied. “I was a doctor.”
“You’re still a doctor. You’re just a criminal, too,” I replied.
“I haven’t done anything wrong. None of us have,” Lynna insisted. “We couldn’t help being nearly blown off our station. The planet’s crust shattered under us.”
“I never said it was fair,” I told her. “But we can’t change anything about it. The Dominion’s made it clear they aren't interested in negotiating.”
“It doesn’t make any sense!” Lynna exclaimed.
I hadn’t realized how much this bothered her. Then again, this was likely the first time Lynna and the word ‘criminal’ ever crossed paths.
“It never makes sense,” Aryn muttered. “It’s just how it is, and you’ve got to learn to live with it.”
“At least we have a safe place to live,” Kalyn jumped in to smooth things over. “We have friends who can protect us. We can protect each other.”
“That worked out fantastically when that damn ship attacked us,” Aryn replied.
“We weren’t prepared.” Kalyn’s voice wavered just slightly. “But we’re better prepared now.”
“Are we prepared to take on more alien women if we run into another auction ring?” I asked.
“The station is so remote. I can’t imagine that sort of business would be very lucrative,” Kalyn reasoned. “If everyone here is shelling out their savings to pay for ship repairs, they won’t have any extra to spend.”
“I did some reading up on the city,” Manda chimed in. She was so quiet, I hadn’t even heard her approach. “Only sixty percent of the residents are temporary. Forty percent live here full-time. Some of them have amassed enough wealth that they could probably live on Katzul if they wanted to.”
“So, they could be running auctions,” I reasoned.
“They won’t be running auctions,” Kalyn said sternly. “Dejar and Aavat are certain this place is up to scratch.”
“Enough about the that,” Lynna shuddered. “I hate to think about what those poor women in our cargo hold went through.”
We reached the entrance to the port, tucked up against the edge of the platform holding the domed city up. I chewed on my bottom lip as the ship came to a halt at the dockmaster’s station. After a few moments, the ship moved forward again. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The false registration worked. Orrin and I were talented as hell. I’d have to track him down later and congratulate him on our good work.
The Rogue Star was a sweet ship, or so I’d decided. It wasn’t like I had any basis of comparison. Sure, she was a little rundown after a few rough weeks, but she blended in with the other ships docked at the space station.
“Are we renting space in town like everyone else who comes here for repairs?” Shenna asked.
“With what money?” Kalyn replied. “Most of what we earned in Katzul went to extra food and fuel. Even with the increased efficiency
of the engines, if we rent rooms, we’ll be on thin ice until we get more work.”
“The Captain will let us explore this time, won’t he?” Aryn pleaded. “I was just telling Maris I’ll go mad if I have to stay confined on this ship any longer.”
“Dejar and Aavat have to assess the risks of this place first,” Kalyn replied. “If they think it’s safe enough, I don’t see why we all can’t stretch our legs…but only if you’ve passed the auto-tutor lessons on Shein and you get someone to help you with the stardust to disguise yourself. We’re not taking any chances of being recognized as human.”
“Thank the sky mother,” Aryn sighed. “I can do that. I’ve just got to get out.”
“And that’s enough sightseeing for now,” Kalyn declared. “Let’s get back to work, ladies.” Now that we’d entered the port, there wasn’t much to look at, really. We still dispersed slowly. Aside from the usual cleaning, upkeep, and looking after the alien women in the cargo hold, there wasn’t much else to be done.
I wandered away from the window and was surprised to see Orrin lingering in the doorway.
“Any issues with the registration chip?” I asked. Stupid question. I would have known if there had been. Probably, we’d all of known.
But seeing him had sent a jolt through me, like the spark from a faulty wire, scrambling my brain.
“It worked as if it were a real chip,” he replied.
“Good! We certainly spent enough time on it. Have you slept yet?” I asked.
“Nope,” he shook his head. “As soon as I got back to my room, I was called up to help get to the port. You?”
“I came here as soon as I heard we were arriving,” I replied, sneaking another glance out the window. “Worth it, though. I didn’t think Qasar Station would be so pretty.”
“You like pretty things, do you?”
I started to snap something back, then realized he was teasing me. Orrin, teasing. That was different.
I liked it.
“I can appreciate a decent aesthetic as long as it’s functional,” I replied with a smirk.