Page 8 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
"What about signal latency?" She pointed to a specific node in the display. "Does the drakeen core use predictive input buffering like high-end simulation platforms?"
The drakeen waved its upraised leg toward her, and she absently patted it without taking her eyes off the schematic. The gesture was automatic, familiar. Like someone stroking a cat.
Davis's eyebrows shot up. The technical specificity of the question caught him off-guard. What wasn’t something a casual gamer would ask… it wasn’t even something most engineers would consider.
Jex moved to expand another section of the hologram. "The drakeen does incorporate a sophisticated buffering system. Not entirely unlike Zodiac systems, though less evolved. It appears designed to account for pilot response delay..."
"Wait." Mira's hand shot up, palm out. Her expression hardened as she looked from the Scorperio to Davis. "Whatever we try... will it hurt the little one?" She nodded toward the drakeen. "I won't agree to anything that could damage it further or... or frighten it. It's trusting us."
The protective edge in her voice was unmistakable. Davis found himself nodding before he'd fully processed her question.
"No invasive procedures," he said, the words rushing out. "Nothing that could cause distress. Signal analysis, external prompts only."
"The proposed bypass targets the external interface," Jex added. "It should perceive it merely as standard operational data, nothing intrusive."
The drakeen chirped softly. Its optical sensors dimmed and brightened in sequence. Almost like a blink of relief.
"Good." Her shoulders relaxed. She turned back to the schematic, focus sharpening again.
Jex manipulated the hologram, highlighting command pathways in brighter blue. "A simple command injection sequence should allow us to establish initial communication protocols..."
“No." She shook her head. "A simple injection won't work; the core's input validation is too sophisticated. It's like trying a default Command Weave Protocol in NeuroSyn Arena Trials."
Her finger jabbed at specific junction points in the hologram. "You need layered commands, probably with custom Signal Routing to anticipate the system's response cycle."
She stopped abruptly, a flush creeping up her neck as she glanced between them.
Davis straightened up a little.NeuroSyn Arena Trials. Not just any gaming platform. NSAT was top-tier pro league stuff, where players competed for credit amounts with too many zeros. The kind of gaming where competitors coded their own neural interfaces and response algorithms.
"Biometric Signal Routing" wasn't amateur terminology either. That was deep-level coding. Developer jargon.
"You've played NSAT?"
The flush on Mira's neck deepened, but she nodded. Whatever hesitation she'd felt evaporated as she launched into explanation.
"In competitive NSAT, especially at high tier, you can't rely on stock interfaces. Every millisecond counts." Her hands sliced through the hologram, rearranging light patterns. "I used to script my own predictive macros for neural feedback optimization, building custom response profiles for different match scenarios."
She pointed to a pathway on the schematic. "We could apply that same principle here. Create a custom Cognitive Interface Layer that speaks to this little guy’s systems without triggering security protocols."
The drakeen chirped, bumping its leg against her arm. Without breaking stride in her explanation, her fingers dropped to stroke its chassis, running along dents and scorch marks.
"See, if we map the command pathways like this," she continued, "we can trick the system into accepting our inputs as native commands rather than external overrides."
He couldn’t help staring. The woman who'd arrived on the ship two weeks ago, quiet, watchful, and quick to fade into the background, was gone. The woman who stood in front of him now commanded the room with a technical authority that had even Jex tilting forward in attention.
He wasn’t surprised. He'd seen her tactical intelligence when she’d guided them through Rettnor's clinic. But this was different. This wasn’t just gaming but specialized expertise that absolutely transformed her.
He didn't look away when she finally glanced up, catching his eyes. He gave her a slight nod, an acknowledgment of expertise.
Surprise flashed across her face, and she looked down quickly, fingers checking a damaged joint on the drakeen. The little machine chirped, optical sensors dimming like a cat half-closing its eyes during a good scratching.
He couldn't tear his gaze away. The confidence in her movements, the precision of her technical knowledge—it was compelling in a way he hadn't expected.
His comm unit chirped, breaking the moment. Ryke's voice cut through the engineering bay.
"Tell, need you on the bridge. Now."
Davis hesitated, caught between duty and the need to stay and watch Mira work. The drakeen tilted its optical sensors toward him, almost expectantly.
