by Elin Wyn
“Aren’t the skin dyes and cosmetics really expensive?” I asked. “You already have to pay for the new identities for the alien women. And won’t they be traced back to us, as well?”
“We’ll make it work,” Dejar assured me with a smile. “Chances are good Kovor will be willing to dip into his personal finances to keep everyone safe, if it means his ship keeps running.”
“Is that my name I heard?” Kovor sauntered into the office with his usual easy smile in place.
“It was,” Dejar replied. “Those lovely cosmetics you purchased might need replenishing in the near future. If possible, we need more permanent dyes.”
“Oh?” Kovor asked.
“A bounty hunter has been overheard asking after the humans,” Orrin supplied, and I displayed my arms again to demonstrate the problem.
“Ah,” Kovor nodded. “That is indeed an issue. How’d he find out about them?”
“Who can say?” Dejar scowled. “But now we’ve got to be even more cautious.”
“Naturally,” Kovor agreed, leaning back against the bulkhead. “However, I might need one of the females to accompany me to test the dyes, make sure they won’t smear on human skin. I think the shopkeepers on Katzul took advantage of my cluelessness.”
It was hard to feel anxious around Kovor. His laid-back manner sucked away all the tension in the room, made our run-in with the bounty hunter something we could deal with, something the whole crew could handle, together.
I let my shoulders relax for the first time since we left the bar. Orrin’s hand was still on my shoulder and he gave me a gentle squeeze, sending warmth spiraling through me to battle the chill of my fears.
“That’s not surprising,” Dejar chuckled. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who thought Kovor was a little too easy going. “We’ll make sure you don’t shop without a support team.”
“Better disguises might help ensure the women’s safety off the ship, but what can we do to make sure no one comes after them here?” Kovor asked.
“The Rogue Star’s current security systems are designed to work most effectively in open space, when it’s less likely someone can just sneak on board,” Orrin answered. “However, the system is due for an upgrade.”
“Let’s upgrade it then,” Kovor declared. “I want every inch of the ship covered.”
“That’s going to be expensive,” Dejar shook his head. “We can’t work an entirely new security system into the budget, especially since we haven’t taken on any new jobs.”
“A completely new system might not be necessary,” Orrin replied. “Maris and I can rework the existing system as best we can. We’ll still have to buy some things, but it’ll cut down on the overall cost.”
“I’ll tap into my personal funds if need be,” Kovor offered. “I want no expense spared. Between this bounty hunter and that wretched ship that got the drop on us before, we can’t afford to take chances. If the Captain doesn’t object, that is.”
“No objections,” Dejar confirmed. “Your generosity is much appreciated.”
“It’s the least I can do. It’s not like I do any of the work around here,” Kovor laughed. “I just own the ship. The Rogue Star’s upkeep is my responsibility in the first place.”
“I won’t argue that,” Dejar nodded. “Either way, it’s time we start looking for delivery jobs once more.”
“Be very selective,” Kovor warned. “Remember, Qasar plays by Dominion rules. Even if we’re blacklisted now, it can always get worse.”
“Noted,” Dejar nodded.
“If you need nothing more from us, Maris and I should get to work on the security system,” Orrin suggested.
“Of course, the both of you are dismissed,” Dejar nodded. I followed Orrin out of the office.
“I’ve never seen you so quiet,” Orrin commented. “I figured you’d be bursting with ideas for the new system.”
“I have a few,” I replied, trying to pull myself back together. “The motion sensor needs a sensitivity upgrade, for sure.”
“I was thinking the same,” Orrin nodded. “Naturally, we’ll have to put surveillance cameras around the boarding door and rear hatch.”
“And one that can see down the dock,” I added.
“We should upgrade the scanners as well. Right now, they can detect shapes and heat levels,” Orrin explained. “That’s fine out in open space. There are only a few things out there that could be a threat to us.”
“Like that dark ship that somehow bypassed all of the Rogue Star’s security measures?” I asked.
“That’s exactly why I want to upgrade everything,” Orrin nodded gravely. “If that ship comes after us again, it won’t sneak up on us.”
“Good. I’d prefer not to lose any more crew members,” I replied. Orrin stopped walking suddenly. He reached out and grabbed my arm so that I wouldn’t pass him.
“Something’s not right with you,” he said. “Ordinarily, you’d be taunting me about coming up with a better security model. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I said unconvincingly.
“Are you still beating yourself up?” Orrin asked. “The makeup failing isn’t your fault, you know? Dejar even said so.”
“It doesn’t matter what Dejar said.” My shoulders slumped. “I made a stupid decision. I should’ve had someone help me, check to make sure the makeup wouldn’t smear. Now, I’ve put us all in danger.”
“There’s no danger yet,” Orrin tried to assure me. “The bounty hunter hasn’t learned anything about us.”
“That we know of!” I argued. How could Orrin not see it? “He must’ve gone to the market by now. I was getting strange looks the entire time I was there. Someone’s going to remember me. Someone could lead the bounty hunter right to us.”
“I’ve probably put us in danger as well,” Orrin reasoned. “If the bounty hunter is looking for humans, he must know the humans are traveling with a group of Shein.”
“Shein are everywhere on the station,” I replied. “The only reason you stuck out to anyone is because you were walking with me. It’s my fault no matter how you slice it.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Orrin frowned. “Is there anything I can do to get you to stop punishing yourself for this?”
“Nothing I’m aware of,” I shrugged, trying to ignore the icy pit in my stomach.
“Doesn’t your species have a saying about this situation?” Orrin asked. “Kalyn mentioned it once. Something like ‘to error is human’?”
“To err is human,” I corrected.
“I don’t hear a difference,” Orrin replied.
“Terran is a notoriously tricky language,” I shrugged. “That is a common human saying but it’s not an excuse to continuously muck things up.”
“You haven’t mucked anything up, whatever that means!” Orrin insisted. “You don’t need to stress yourself over it.”
“I’m not stressed, I’m problem solving.” My jaw ached from clenching it so tightly.
I’d made the mistake.
It was my responsibility to find a way to fix it.
Orrin
“Oh, no, don’t put that relay connection there, move it up to that second array of circuitry or it’ll end up burning out the sensor.” Maris and I had been working on the new sensor system that would alert the bridge, Dejar’s office, and our head of security—Valtic—that someone had either entered or left the ship without using a specific code, to be assigned to each crewmember.
We had spent the last two hours constructing the sensor system and were struggling to get it attached to the doors without it tripping every few seconds. “Oh, like that matters right now. We can’t get the damn sensors to work for longer than three seconds at a time, so who gives a damn if they burn out?”
Okay, Maris was frustrated, but at least she wasn’t worried and scared anymore.
That was progress, right?
“So,” I decided to risk asking, hoping the improved mood would help, “Why were you s
o hard on yourself back at the bar?”
“Seriously? I’m in a good mood again, and you want to bring that up?” The tone of her voice betrayed the words. As testy as her words were, her tone of voice wasn’t as venomous. I gave her a toothy grin. “Whatever, you gigantic mountain with arms.”
“So, are you going to tell me?”
She answered me, though not how I wanted her to. “I don’t like making mistakes.”
“You said that already,” I said as I reworked the wires in the door sensors. “Don’t forget to change out the wiring in the keypad, just in case. Now, are you going to elaborate?”
“I know what I’m doing with the keypad,” she shot back. “The wiring’s not the problem, it’s these damn connectors. They’re absolute shit. I told you that you needed to go out and get those gold ones. Why you didn’t listen is beyond me.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” I answered back.
She couldn’t see my smile, but it stretched as far as it dared.
She had been right, however. I should have gone back out to get those better connectors. The ones we had were too old to do what we wanted them to do. “And you’re right. I’ll send Shar out to get the gold ones.”
“Good. As for whether or not I’ll elaborate…no. No, I won’t. Hand me those pliers, would ya?”
I tossed the pliers to her. She caught them easily and yanked the circuit board out. “Hey, careful with that,” I ridiculed her. “We don’t have many of those left and I don’t remember seeing anyone that sold those components where we looked.”
“Don’t be such a baby about it. If I break it, I’ll rebuild it. Waah,” she faked rubbing her eyes like a child.
“Funny. Do me a favor, please.”
“Fine, I’ll be careful with the equipment,” she said dejectedly.
“Not that,” I said. She looked at me, her eyes slightly squinted. “If you’re not going to elaborate on why you put yourself down all the time, then stop mentioning it. If you stop mentioning that it’s just something you do, then I’ll stop asking for you to expand on the idea, which means that I’ll stop imagining scenarios that have caused you to be so self-deprecating. Okay?”
“Really? So, either I have to elaborate and tell you why I am the way I am, or stop mentioning that I am the way I am because that’s how I am, so you won’t come up with crazy ideas about why I am the way I am?”
I blinked numerous times as I tried to figure out what it was that she had just said. “Hold on a minute,” I said as she opened her mouth to speak again.
I repeated—at least tried to—what she had said in order to ensure that I knew what it was she was trying to say. “Yes,” I finally said, thinking I had it right. “I think.”
“Really?” she repeated. “And what exactly are you imagining about my life that makes me the way I am?”
“That you were responsible for a small colony of people and because of an easily avoidable mistake you made, they all died horrible, terrible, disgusting deaths, especially the children, and that’s why you say terrible things about yourself when you make a tiny mistake.”
Her eyes fairly bugged out at my idea. “You…I…what…you come up with shit like that in your head?”
“I’ve never claimed to be a good boy with a clean mind,” I answered.
She stuck her tongue out at me. “And here I thought you were a well-behaved beast.”
“Ha. Ha,” I responded sarcastically. “Wait, you’re telling me that I’m not the most handsome, most intelligent, biggest piece of loveliness you’ve ever seen in your life?”
“Nope.”
“Oh, that hurt. You hurt my feelings,” I said in mock pain.
She smiled, not one of the blazing ones I craved, but it was a start.
“You know, the solution is easy. Instead of letting my imagination get the best of me while trying to figure you out, either tell me why or tell me to drop it.”
“I’ve always had to prove myself, show I could do the job. Making a mistake wasn’t acceptable then, and such a stupid one isn’t an option now,” she finally said. “You know the odds of our survival as well as I do.” She looked away. “You mind handing me that extra circuit board?”
I stared at her for a moment, then turned my attention back to work. I handed her the extra circuit board, then stood up to go talk to Shar. After giving Shar the instructions, directions, and credits needed to get the new connectors, I went back to the sensors.
It felt good to have Maris working next to me, something I wasn’t used to. I worked alone, most of the time.
I trusted my team, I truly did, but this was my ship. I wanted things to be done my way, and that usually meant I had to do things myself.
Maris was different. Not only had she proven herself, she had surpassed any and every expectation I had for anyone. Working next to her was a privilege that I enjoyed.
And if she’d always had to prove herself, no wonder she’d fought so hard to have me listen to her, hear her ideas.
“Are you sure you want to run those wires that way? They haven’t worked so far, so why not try a different pattern?”
I looked at the wiring of the sensors and her idea made sense. “Any particular suggestion?”
“Mmm, why not a rotating pattern? We try that until we find the one that works.”
“Alright. Have you gotten that keypad running yet?”
With a snap of the housing and a quick whir of the screwdriver, she answered me. “Yep. Just gotta plug it in.” As she did, the display lit up and ran through the startup sequence.
As I waited for the keypad to finish its startup, I quickly wired the sensors and loosely placed them on the door. “Here we go,” I said once the keypad was ready. I entered in my code, then opened the door. Nothing happened, just according to plan. I closed the door and waited for the beep that would indicate the sensor and keypad were ready for the next input.
It beeped.
“One more time?”
At her nod, I opened the door without utilizing a code, and the alarm blared loud and annoying, just like it was supposed to. I closed the door, Maris punched in a quick deactivation code, and we looked at one another in satisfaction.
“Nice work, Orrin.”
“To you as well, Maris. Without sounding too prideful, that is by far, the fastest I’ve gotten a project finished when I’ve only had random parts to work with.”
“Nice. To be honest, we’re not really done yet,” she said.
“Oh?” I asked.
“Still need to replace the connections with the gold ones when Shar gets back, and we still need to get the other bay doors connected now.”
My elation died, just a little, swamped by the never-ending project list. “True, very true,” I said sullenly. “However, at least we know what we’re doing now. Let’s get these connected to the ship’s computer.”
Over the next hour, we worked side by side, running the wiring, running the tests, and hiding everything within new housing to avoid the wires getting tripped over, snagged, or outright cut by anything. “So, what would you be working on right now back at Persephone Station if none of this had happened?”
Maris shrugged. “Dunno. If I remember correctly, that week I’d been working on repairing and modifying some of the drills we were using to mine deeper into the core.” Her eyes grew a little soft, remembering. “I did have a side project, though.”
“Oh? Please, tell me.” I loved hearing about engineering projects, and anything that had kept her mind busy would be worth knowing.
“I was working on a new laser that, if I had my models figured correctly, could have been used in multiple applications like medical, defense, and mining.” Her voice was filled with loss. “I could redesign it, but without the numbers and my initial tests, I’d be starting from scratch.”
I put my hand on her shoulder, wishing there was something I could do to comfort her. She’d lost so much, and all I had to offer was an engine bay filled with tools
and parts.
“If you could remember any of the calculations, any of the information, maybe we could work on it here,” I offered. “I’d be happy to help if you wanted me to.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’d like that. Ready to jump onto the next door?”
I closed the instrument panel on the computer, and nodded. “Let’s go.”
Maris
I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Persephone Station crumble and my mind raced in an endless loop, struggling to understand the shockwave that nearly killed us all. I thought about it nearly every day.
When I was first brought aboard the Rogue Star, I lost night after night of sleep trying to work it out. Early on, I’d had my doubts, but now that I was familiar with the inner workings of the ship, I was absolutely certain.
The Rogue Star couldn’t have generated that shockwave.
Several of the other crew members knew my thoughts on the topic, but for some reason, it didn’t bother any of them the way it bothered me.
Perhaps they didn’t see it as that much of a threat.
It made sense, I guessed.
The shockwave already happened. It wasn’t an active threat like the Dominion was. Everyone believed the Dominion intended to kidnap us on Dominion Outpost Nine, not return us to the Terran System. Well, everyone except for a certain bitch. But she didn’t count.
Of course, we couldn’t prove it.
I’d always had the lingering suspicion that the two issues were connected, that the Dominion had something to do with the shockwave.
I’d never brought it up before because I didn’t have any proof, or even a solid theory. Just a feeling.
With a frustrated sigh, I kicked off my blanket. Aryn shifted in her sleep as I made my way across our room but didn’t wake. I was careful not to make a sound as I shut the door.
Once in the hallway, I hurried to the workshop. If Orrin was there, I’d ask him about the shockwave. I wanted his thoughts on it, have his angle.
If he wasn’t, well, I’d just find something to work on until I felt tired enough to sleep. Win-win.