Genius engineer Kairen Veras has been enslaved by the space pirate organization 'Void Crusader' for three years, his exceptional technical skills exploited only to maintain their flagship's reactor system. But even as a captive, Kairen carefully watches for his chance to rebel.
That chance arrives in the medical bay. When a pirate commander falls critically ill, the arrival of Elina, a cold and pragmatic physician, shifts everything. Simultaneously, Orius, a young, idealistic vice-commander wou
The Galactic Fugitive: An Engineer's Rebellion - Calculated Trust
One night had passed since the secret meeting in the engine room.
Kairen sat before his work space—a narrow desk in F-3 sector. Wiring schematics for the phase reactor lay in front of him. But his eyes weren't on them.
Three faces from last night. Flowing through his mind in sequence.
Orius's gaze. Too direct. Too honest.
Elina's gaze. Revealing nothing.
Both were real.
(That's exactly why confirmation is necessary.)
Agreement was reached. But agreement was only the beginning. Whether all three had accepted their roles of their own will—that was today's work.
---
He knocked on the medical room door. Just after morning rounds had finished.
Elina looked up. Her platinum blonde bob swayed slightly. Bangs half-covered her right eye. Beyond them, pale blue eyes quietly captured Kairen.
"You came again,"
Her voice was emotionless. Neither welcome nor rejection. Just confirmation.
Kairen entered and closed the door.
"Continuing last night's confirmation,"
"I'm listening,"
Elina didn't stop working. She operated the medical records terminal while waiting for his words. Her profile was calm. Undisturbed. The smell of disinfectant drifted faintly.
Kairen's eyes moved to the desk's edge. Then back.
"Falsifying the toxic gas alarm. That becomes your role,"
Elina's hands stopped. Just for a moment. Then resumed.
"Be specific,"
"We use the ship's emergency alert system as the escape signal. Generate an alert indicating toxic gas leakage. Crew evacuates to protected sections. A window opens for movement. But we can't use a real alert. Electronic tampering leaves traces,"
"So we use chemical substances instead,"
"Correct. Combine reagents from the medical room. Generate trace amounts of irritant gas. Enough to trigger sensors. Minimal human impact. You can calculate that mixture,"
Elina set down the terminal.
She looked at him. Stared at him. Her eyes were calculating.
"Survival rate if we fail,"
"Nearly zero,"
"You're honest,"
"Lying serves no purpose,"
Brief silence. Elina unconsciously rubbed her left ring finger. Once. Then stopped, as if noticing.
"Success rate,"
"Currently just over sixty percent. If all roles function properly, approaching eighty,"
"Eighty percent,"
She said it shortly. Impossible to tell if it was observation or confirmation.
"From a medical perspective, eighty percent is acceptable for surgical success rates. Sixty percent is hard to accept,"
"That's why I came to confirm. If you perform your role, sixty becomes eighty,"
Elina looked at him again. Different angle this time. Like a physician reading a patient's condition.
(This man hates variables outside his calculations.)
Elina sensed it. Not as emotion. As observation. She thought he was the same type of person as her. That made her slightly uncomfortable.
"Understood. I'll begin mixture preparation. But—plan for failure too. If escape fails, I decide my own fate. You don't need to decide it for me,"
Kairen paused.
"Acknowledged,"
He said only that and moved toward the door.
Elina's eyes returned to the terminal. But her fingers didn't move.
(Sixty becomes eighty. As a physician, I find value in that difference. That's all.)
She organized it that way. Tried to. But something else lingered in her chest. Something different. Elina didn't look directly at it.
---
Afternoon.
Orius entered the medical room. Routine follow-up on his left shoulder wound.
Elina performed the procedures silently. Disinfection. Confirmation. Recording. One necessary thing after another.
Orius was quiet. Different from usual. No excited rapid speech. No questions.
"Your wound is healing well,"
"I see,"
"Next check in three days,"
"Yes,"
The procedure finished. Elina began clearing the tray. She turned her back.
That's when it happened.
"Doctor,"
His voice was lower than usual. Serious.
Elina stopped but didn't turn around.
"If you hadn't been here, I'd be dead. Really,"
A beat.
"Thank you,"
Elina didn't turn. She carried the tray toward the cabinet.
"It's my job,"
She tried to answer. The usual answer. But it took more than twice as long to speak.
"...It's my job,"
Her pale blue eyes looked at the cabinet. But didn't see it.
(This person is thanking me sincerely. That's all.)
She told herself that. But agitation came from somewhere. Patients thanked her often. So why did her response delay only now? Only in this moment?
She couldn't look directly at it.
Orius said "Excuse me" and left.
Elina remained alone.
Her left ring finger rubbed unconsciously again. She noticed. Stopped.
---
Just before evening rounds began.
In a corridor section. Where surveillance cameras didn't reach. Kairen stood waiting.
Orius arrived.
His expression was rigid. More rigid than last night.
"Can you access the hangar with vice-commander authority,"
"I can. I can change the duty shift and confirm the interior,"
"The Falcon's activation codes,"
"I know them. Used them on a previous mission. If they haven't changed—they should still be valid,"
Kairen nodded. As expected.
"That becomes your role. Securing the hangar route and preparing the Falcon,"
Orius was silent.
Kairen continued.
"The Falcon—a small reconnaissance patrol vessel—has a phase jump drive installed. One jump covers twenty-five light-years. Enough distance to escape the Ash Belt,"
"I know. I understand that,"
Something mixed into Orius's voice. Kairen heard it.
"This becomes complete betrayal,"
"Yes,"
He didn't deny it. Orius had expected that. He continued.
"The Void Crusader Code—the Commandant's law—treats rebellion against the Commandant as exile. Ejection into space. You. Me. The doctor,"
"I know,"
"You know and you're still asking me,"
"I'm asking what you believe is right,"
Orius closed his mouth.
Distant machine sounds echoed from the corridor's depths. The ship's heartbeat. Low vibrations.
The medical room returned to Orius's mind.
Elina's back. His thanks. That strange pause in her response. The human tremor that appeared for just one moment within businesslike words.
That was the moment Elina recognized him as human—Orius thought. Not certainty. But he felt it.
"...I couldn't move when I saw a child get kicked,"
Kairen didn't move. Listening.
"In the hangar. Not yesterday. Earlier. A prisoner's child fell. A soldier kicked him laughing. If I moved as vice-commander, it'd be overstepping authority. So I didn't move. I still don't know if that was right,"
"You don't need to know,"
Orius looked up.
"Not being able to move and choosing not to move are different,"
Short words. But they reached Orius deeper than longer ones could.
Green eyes met his.
"...I'll do it,"
"Tomorrow, volunteer for the hangar night shift yourself. Scout the interior,"
"Understood,"
They parted.
---
Night.
Kairen returned to the engine room. Alone.
Blue-white light filled the spherical space. The phase reactor's pulse. Light he'd seen enough to bore of. For three years.
The scar on his left hand's back flickered faintly in response to that light.
Kairen sat before the control panel and began the final backdoor test.
His fingers moved. Quiet. Precise.
Surveillance logs streamed. Faster than normal.
—Wait.
Kairen's fingers stopped.
He reread the data. Line by line.
(Askandas's patrol cycle has changed.)
Normal interval was every six hours. Today it became four.
No reason given. Could be coincidence. But Kairen had learned in three years that Askandas wasn't a man who moved by coincidence. Behind that artificial eye, tactical support AI constantly calculated.
(Is he beginning to notice?)
No certainty. But there was no time to wait for certainty.
The window before the backdoor was discovered had shortened.
Kairen stopped and looked up at the ceiling.
The reactor's light pulsed slowly.
The plan had begun. Elina would start chemical mixture preparation. Orius would scout the hangar tomorrow. All three now faced the same direction.
But time might run out.
Kairen turned back to the panel.
He needed to move up the operation timeline.
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