Rogue Instinct

by Elin Wyn

  I hadn’t asked him in the past because I didn’t trust him to truly listen to what I had to say. I worried that he’d give my theory the brush off or that he would think my theory a personal attack on his work as the ship’s engineer.

  Now that I’d gotten comfortable around him, maybe even trusted him, I felt secure enough to share my theory.

  Not surprisingly, he was in the workshop, bent over one of the motion sensor chips we had been working on earlier today. I knocked on the wall to alert him of my presence. He steadied his hand and looked up.

  “Maris? What are you doing here?”

  “Me? What are you doing here? You should be asleep,” I playfully scolded.

  “I’m supposed to believe you walked all the way over here to tell me to go to bed?” he laughed.

  “I’m going to tell you to go to bed after I ask you about something else first,” I admitted. My confidence seized up, froze inside me. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

  His smile faded but his eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “What do you want to ask me?”

  I walked over to the workbench and grabbed a pair of gloves. Next to him was a stack of unfinished motion sensor chips. I picked one up and started working on it. It felt too strange to be in the workshop and not work. It gave me something to do with my hands, a place to keep my gaze without risking too many looks in his direction.

  “I wanted to ask you about the shockwave that destroyed Persephone Station,” I said at last.

  “Ah,” Orrin sighed. “You want to know if there was a malfunction that could’ve caused it.”

  “I already know the answer,” I replied. “I know this ship almost as well as you do by now. If anything malfunctioned, I don’t believe it could’ve caused that shockwave.”

  “You’re right,” Orrin agreed. “It wasn’t caused by the ship.”

  “Then what caused it?” I asked, unable to let this go. “It couldn’t have happened just randomly.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you already have an idea?” Orrin asked with a hint of a smile.

  “Because I stay up most nights thinking about this,” I admitted reluctantly. I could admit a weakness to Aryn. If I was hurt, I’d go to Lynna, no problem. But this, this suddently felt too vulnerable. Too open.

  “That’s not good, Maris.” Orrin looked away from his chip to gaze at me full on. “I can’t have you working on projects if you’re always sleep deprived. It’s one thing when we’ve got a special project, but all the time? No. You could get hurt.”

  I stayed my hand and tried not to let my astonishment show. I expected Orrin to say something along the lines of how I could ruin his engine if I worked on too little sleep, not for him to worry about my well-being.

  That was... surprising.

  “I haven’t gotten hurt yet.” I mustered my most reassuring smile. “And I’d sleep better if I didn’t have to wonder about the stupid shockwave every night.”

  “How about you tell me your thoughts and I’ll tell you if they’re reasonable?” Orrin suggested.

  “That’s exactly why I came to you,” I smiled, relieved that we were back to our normal problem-solving mode.

  “Glad to be of service,” he grinned.

  “We’re all convinced the shockwave didn’t happen on its own and that the Rogue Star didn’t cause it,” I began. “But I think that the Dominion planted some kind of device designed to trigger the shockwave when the Rogue Star appeared around Pluto. Weren’t you on an assignment to collect ice and water from further out?”

  “We had the correct coordinates,” Orrin replied. “Qal checked later on. He thinks it was a rare autopilot malfunction. The coordinates got scrambled as we traveled through the folds of space.”

  “Is the Dominion powerful enough to scramble the coordinates remotely?” I wondered.

  “That kind of tech is illegal for that exact reason,” Orrin shook his head.

  “But it exists,” I countered.

  “Probably,” Orrin admitted. “If someone can think of a terrible thing to do, I usually assume it’s been done. But something like that, it’d be a weapon. The Dominion might rule with a heavy hand, but they’ve done well at keeping the peace between so many planets and species.”

  “So there’s no chance the Dominion purposefully scrambled your coordinates to ensure you ended up at the wrong location?” I pressed. “And it’s absolutely impossible the Dominion planned this, so we humans would cross into their territory so that they would be able to collect us in the name of preserving peace?”

  “You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” Orrin asked.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. “Answer the question.”

  “It’s possible,” he said hesitantly.

  “They were way too prepared for us when we reached Dominion Outpost Nine,” I insisted. “Within minutes of Dejar dropping us off at the outpost, we were approached by an official who took us to a set of rooms with exactly enough space for all of us. Clothing. Food. I hadn’t been paying enough attention then.” I looked away. “Another mistake that could have turned out badly.”

  “That would mean the dark ship that attacked us is part of it, too,” Orrin said, refusing to indulge my self-flagellation. “We only ended up at Dominion Outpost Nine because it pushed us in that direction.”

  “Couldn’t that be possible?” I asked.

  “Maybe. But if the Dominion controlled the dark ship, why wouldn’t they commandeer us and take you and the rest of the women by force? They could’ve done it,” Orrin reasoned.

  “Unless the dark ship was hired by the Dominion to influence our route but disguise it as a robbery,” I countered.

  “That seems a little far-fetched,” Orrin replied.

  “It makes too much sense to be a coincidence,” I insisted.

  “But that’s all it is. A coincidence based on circumstantial evidence,” Orrin said.

  “The shockwave wasn’t a random accident!” I cried. “I know in my gut that the Dominion had something to do with it.”

  “I believe you,” Orrin agreed. “The rest of the crew will believe you. But knowing that won’t change anything unless we can find concrete proof that the Dominion set us up.”

  “How can we get it?” I demanded.

  Orrin simply shook his head.

  “The Dominion sets up a series of warning beacons to keep ships away from non-evolved worlds. It’s possible that the beacons around the Terran System triggered… something.” He held up one hand. “But it’s also theoretically possible we experienced a navigation error and an engine malfunction that we can’t reproduce, and managed to set off the shockwave ourselves.”

  “So, now you’re saying I’m wrong?” I huffed. “You just said I was right.”

  “I’m saying that’s what everyone outside of our ship is going to think if we tell someone about this,” Orrin said.

  “I suppose,” I admitted begrudgingly.

  “If someone didn’t know our ship, our engine, like we do, would it sound more reasonable to your theory?” Orrin asked.

  “Yes,” I admitted after a long pause.

  “So, imagine what everyone will think if we accuse the Dominion officials of sabotage and conspiracy and they dismiss us with that same explanation,” Orrin continued, “because if they did plant a device intended for us to trigger that shockwave, you can be sure they will have already found an excuse to shift the blame from their own crooked shoulders.”

  I let my forehead rest on the cool metal of the workbench.

  “I hate that you’re right,” I grumbled.

  “Believe me, so do I.” Orrin rested his hand on my back, stroking in small, comforting circles.

  “There’s nothing we can do then?” I asked. “We just have to roll over and accept the fact we can’t do anything to fight back against the Dominion?”

  “Not exactly,” Orrin replied. “We just need to gather proof.”

  “Without the Dominion catching us,” I sighed.

/>   “I never said it would be easy,” Orrin shrugged.

  “For a moment, let’s assume everything I just said is completely true. There’s one thing that still doesn’t make sense to me,” I said.

  “What’s that?” Orrin asked.

  “What does the Dominion want with us in the first place?”

  Orrin

  By the mother world, what was that noise?

  Then it hit me.

  The alarm was going off! Someone had either forgotten to use their code, or we had a problem. I got myself out of bed and rushed over to the hangar bay to find that Maris already there.

  I looked at someone from the night crew, far too asleep still to put names together with faces. “Why haven’t you turned that off yet?” I yelled over the blaring alarm.

  “I don’t…” he yelled back, then Maris turned off the alarm. “Have the code,” he finished in a normal voice.

  “Okay, I’ll get you one,” I said as I moved on to Maris. “Hi.”

  She yawned, which caused me to yawn, which made her chuckle. “Hi,” she said. “Hell of a way to wake up, huh?”

  “Who’s awake?” I responded, a smile on my face. “Any idea why it went off?”

  She shook her head, then looked at the night crew member I had spoken to. “How about you?”

  “No, ma’am. I wasn’t even in the bay when the alarm went off,” he answered. Then his name hit me.

  “What are you doing on the night crew, Maxel?” I asked.

  He looked at me and shrugged. “Rotation change.”

  “Ah. So, you didn’t see anything?”

  He shook his head. “No, sir. I was running maintenance on the Skimmer, and decided I needed something to drink. Sorry.”

  I waved it off, mind already running through our next steps. “Don’t be.” I turned back to Maris. “Looks like we need to look at the footage. Up for it?”

  Another yawn, accompanied by a half-hearted nod, was my answer. “Why not? Sleep appears to be optional all around.”

  I pulled up the security footage on the wall computer and set it to start from a few minutes before the alarm went off.

  “Why that far back?” Maris asked.

  I shrugged. “To see if anyone was messing with the sensors or keypad before the alarm went off.”

  “Oh. Cool.”

  I made a mental note to ask how a temperature of something played in to this, then forced my concentration to the screen.

  We watched, and watched, and watched it again.

  “Are you not seeing what I’m not seeing?” Maris asked me.

  “I am. There’s nothing there,” I answered, not thrilled where the rest of my evening was going. We looked at one another, both of us knowing what that meant for us. “You want to get the tools, or should I?”

  “Your turn,” Maris said. “I’ll start taking the panels off.” As I went for the tools, I tried to figure out what could have gone wrong with everything. Nothing was wired wrong, I was sure, and there was nothing on the security footage that showed anything.

  Maris had the panels off the wall by the time I got back, and we went straight to work. We double checked, even triple checked everything, but found nothing that could explain why the sensors were tripped.

  “This makes no sense,” Maris said. “There’s nothing wrong here.”

  I didn’t have an answer. I was just as perplexed as she was. She looked at me, saw my own confusion, and nodded.

  “Okay, then. Now what?” she asked.

  “We head back to bed and hope it doesn’t go off again?” I suggested.

  “You’re ready to go back to sleep, already?”

  “Eh,” I said. We were both short on sleep, but after the rush of adrenaline of the alarm, I wasn’t going to be able to settle down anytime soon.

  “Fine,” she said dejectedly. “Want to walk me to my room?” she asked.

  “But, of course,” I answered with a slight bow. I brought my head up, making sure my best smile was on.

  She shook her head and chuckled a bit. “You’re weird.” That was all she said as she turned away from me to start cleaning up our tools. As we cleaned up, I decided to strike up a conversation.

  “What were you doing before you ended up at Persephone?” I asked as I took a sonic amplifier from her and placed it in the toolbox. She’d mentioned the bare facts before, when she’d talked her way into being allowed to modify our engine signature and registration chips.

  But I wanted any bit of her past she was willing to share. I didn’t just want it, I needed it.

  “Not much. I was military for a little bit, but as crazy as it sounds, I honestly had more fun at Persephone Station.” She handed me the roll of wire and wire-cutters, then got to her feet. I closed up the toolbox, stood up, and we started walking.

  “You were military?” I asked, slightly taken aback by her confession.

  “Yes, I was,” she said defensively. “Why, can’t Shein women be military?”

  “No, no, of course they can. I didn’t mean it that way,” I said. “I didn’t mean for it to upset you. I just never thought of you as the military type, not because you couldn’t do it, but because you’re…” How to put this. “More of an independent thinker.”

  As we rounded a corner, she conceded my point. “You’re not wrong, but yes, I did join the military. I went into the Space Force versus any of the branches on Earth or the private force on Mars.”

  “Space Force?” I asked. “That’s what you were called?”

  She glared at me, then broke into a smile. “Yeah, it’s a stupid name for a military, that’s what we were.”

  “Did you like it?”

  She stopped, which brought me to a stop. I could see her thinking about it. I wanted to know what kind of memories she had, but I didn’t want to push it. Finally, she answered me. “No. I wasn’t a big fan.”

  “So,” I started as I came back to her. “Why did you join?”

  “Honestly? The money.” We started walking again. “They paid the best outside of the private district, and jobs the private district was extremely difficult to get into without the right connections.”

  “Ah. How was the…sorry, it’s just funny to say…ahem, Space Force supposed to help you get into the private district?”

  She matched my smile at the name, then got serious. “If I had been able to get into the engineering division, I would have been working on ships, engines, and space stations. That would have been a major thing to throw onto my resume.”

  I nodded in agreement. Even out here, having knowledge of starships, their engines, and space stations was a boon for anyone that liked working with their hands and getting greasy. If I hadn’t joined up with a smuggling crew, I would have gone into the official Dominion Engineering Corps myself.

  She continued. “The problem was that ended up I was posted as a mechanic. I wasn’t allowed to build anything, I was only allowed to fix.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be too bad. You could have worked your way up,” I said.

  “True,” she nodded. “Except I didn’t take well to orders. When you have complete idiots telling you how to do something that you know should be done a better way, it becomes very annoying.”

  I put my hand to my chest and made a mock-surprise face. “You didn’t get along with others? Say it isn’t so.”

  She laughed, a genuine laugh that seemed to come from her heart. “Ha, ha. Very funny, but true. I questioned everything and told a few of my commanders how to do things the right way. And not just in terms of engineering. It got me into a lot of trouble, and that meant my squad mates got into trouble as well.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re all judged together, rise or fall. It’s supposed to be good for morale.” She shrugged and looked away, and I wondered how hard it had been for her to give up what had seemed like a chance for a family.

  “Once I got to Persephone Station, the money was a lot better thanks to the harsh conditions of the planet, and
I was allowed to actually work.” She stopped walking. We were in front of her quarters. “I still had to answer to someone, but they let me do what I wanted and needed to do. I wasn’t there long before I improved things, so I enjoyed it.”

  I thought about her words for a moment. “Are you sure you went to Persephone Station by choice?” I asked. “I only ask because many of you have said it was a punishment assignment.”

  “It was the best of the choices I was offered.” She shrugged and flipped her hair from her face. “I got into trouble. That little incident I mentioned, altering the state official’s ship? That was the last straw.”

  She smiled, her eyes lighting with excitement. “But now I’m flying out here in space with a bunch of smugglers going to planets no human ever dreamed of. So I guess I got the better end of the deal.”

  “Why did you do it? You must have known you’d be caught.”

  “The guy was the most corrupt petty government official I’d ever seen. He eventually got investigated and ended up in prison. But for me…rather than send me to jail, they kept my engine design and granted my request to go to Persephone faster than I could ask for it.”

  “Why do I get the sense you were proud of that?” I asked slyly.

  She winked at me. “I was. If the military is too stupid to recognize intelligence, that’s their problem. If they can’t reward me for coming up with better ways to do things, then they can go fuck themselves.”

  “What were you doing with all that pay? I didn’t exactly see any markets or stores during our very brief stop at Persephone Station.”

  “Not much. Sent most of it back to family.” She looked up at me and I saw something in her eyes. A silent request not to press for more.

  I faked a yawn, wished her good night, and headed back to bed. I was determined to figure this woman out.

  She’d given me more of the puzzle, and eventually I’d solve it all.

  Eventually.

  Maris

  The next morning, I spent thirty minutes pushing my breakfast around my plate wondering what in the hell had come over me last night.