Dragon Pearl(43)

Thanks for the friendly reminder, I thought.

Sujin and I walked toward the elevator that would take us to the bridge level. The goblin was more subdued than usual, and it made the distance seem to stretch forever. Had they heard about my run-in with the captain? If so, I wished they’d just ask me about it and end the suspense.

The elevator was big enough to hold a good dozen people, but it was just the two of us. Sujin leaned over the panel with its glowing buttons and punched in the elevator code. The security measure wouldn’t do more than slow down an attacker, yet I supposed it was better than nothing.

This would be my first time on the bridge, although I couldn’t let that slip. Would Hwan be there? My heart was beating too fast, and I was breathing so hard that Sujin noticed.

“What’s the matter?” they asked. “You seem antsy. Didn’t you like it last time? Or did you like it too much?” they added with a smile.

I shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “It’s no big deal. We’re just observing, right?”

“Sure,” Sujin said. “But people get superstitious about time on the bridge. They think they’ll advance faster if they linger there.”

It wasn’t exactly a consideration for me, because I was an imposter, but I could see why some cadets might have felt that way. It was the closest they got to seeing officers in action.

The elevator arrived and we stepped onto the bridge. The executive officer sat on a raised dais in the middle of the room. The other crew members were arranged at various stations in a semicircle around her. No captain in sight, I noted with relief.

“Cadets Sujin and Jang reporting for duty,” Sujin said crisply as we saluted.

I wondered, if I ever returned home, would I accidentally salute my aunties when they called my name? Of course, whether I’d recognize my own name at all was an open question at that point.

“You’re on time,” the XO said, so dryly that it sounded like a criticism. “Today you’ll be shadowing Navigation.” She waved a hand toward one of the stations, where an ensign gestured for us to take up positions to either side of his seat. We’d have to stand the entire shift, but I didn’t mind.

I stared in wonder at the navigational display. Far bigger and more complex than the one we’d had in the sim module, it showed a holographic map of the region and the Gates we were passing through. Inhabited star systems, which burned like fierce white points, were labeled, while Gates showed up as purple spheres. On either side, additional digital indicators in blue and red reported the status of the ship’s shields, engines, and so on, just like in the Red Azalea’s cockpit.

“All right, Cadet Jang,” the ensign said. “What do you remember about this?” He pointed to a shimmering shape on his control panel. At the moment the circle glowed a calm violet.

I knew the answer to this one. “That means we’re traveling through a Gate,” I said. “Blue means we’re in regular space.”

“And why is it important to keep track?” the ensign asked Sujin.

“We can’t carry out certain maintenance operations while the ship is Gating,” Sujin said.

“Give me an example,” the ensign urged.

“Well, for one, we can’t go out onto the hull while we’re in the Gate.”

The ensign kept prodding. “What happens if there’s a hull breach?”

Sujin winced at the thought.

“Go on,” the ensign said. “It’s a possibility we have to be prepared for.”

“If there’s a hull breach,” Sujin continued, “the ship is at risk of getting stuck in the Gate and never coming out again. That’s why we have to be absolutely certain the hull is in good shape before we Gate.”

“Correct,” the ensign said. “But sometimes you don’t have much choice.” His mouth twisted. “As long as the shields stay up, most battle cruisers are tough beasts. But if there is a shield malfunction and the ship is compromised by enemy fire, even minor hull damage can prevent a ship from Gating to another location for safety. And once it’s trapped, predators can move in.”

The ensign turned to me. “Cadet Jang, tell me another problem with being stuck in a Gate.”

“We can’t depart the ship,” I said. I’d been thinking about this ever since I’d heard of the deserters. “No extravehicular activity—no leaving on shuttles or in escape pods, nothing.”

“That’s right.”

Something didn’t add up. Jun and his comrades couldn’t have left while the battle cruiser was in a Gate. They would’ve had to plan their escape for sometime when the Pale Lightning was on patrol in normal space. But if the crew hadn’t been preoccupied with Gating, how did no one notice a departing shuttle? Was security that lax? And why did the captain leave the area instead of trying to retrieve and punish the deserters? Especially deserters who might have had information about the location of the Dragon Pearl . . .

What was going on?

I tried to concentrate on what the ensign was telling us about other navigational maneuvers, but it was almost impossible.

I needed different information—information he couldn’t provide—and I knew what I had to do to get it.





I had to get into the captain’s quarters. For the next several days, I planned my approach. I glided by his door a couple times whenever I found an excuse to be on the senior officers’ deck. The door had a lock, of course. Could I pick it without tripping an alarm? While locks weren’t my specialty, they couldn’t be much more difficult than any other electronic system.