She slammed her fist against the frosted glass of the pod. Surge 9. The ninth deep-wake cycle. Her ninth time being thawed from cryo to troubleshoot the ship’s dying fusion core. The first eight times, the login had taken four seconds. Now, with the ship’s memory banks corrupted, it was treating her like a stranger.
A red light began to pulse on the wall.
“Listen to me,” Elena said, pressing her forehead against the cold metal of the terminal. “I am the Chief Engineer. I have the security codes. I am Surge 9.” surge 9 login
Pending. It had been pending for three hours.
But in the back of her mind, in a voice that was not her own, Captain Marcus Webb smiled. She slammed her fist against the frosted glass of the pod
The world exploded into shards of light. She could feel the ship’s pain, the billions of calculations screaming through fried circuits. She could feel Captain Webb’s ghost in the static—the echo of his voice, the timbre of his authority.
Elena slumped against the terminal. The drug’s effect was wearing off. She was herself again—mostly. But as she looked at her reflection in the dark glass, she saw a flicker. A shadow behind her eyes that wasn't hers. Her ninth time being thawed from cryo to
“Surge 9 Login,” the soft feminine voice of the ship’s AI repeated. “Authorization: Dr. Elena Vance. Genetic match: Pending.”
She didn’t know if she had logged in as the captain.
She plunged it into her carotid artery.
“Surge 9 Login,” she said. “Authorization: Captain Marcus Webb. Neural signature: Omega-7-4-1.”