“The weirdest thing happened,” I say without preamble, strolling into the canteen.

Shae is sitting across the table from C-CIL and presses her lips together tightly, squirming awkwardly as I walk by them to the synthesizer.

“I got an alert from Chrys,” I say without looking up as I wait to pull my coffee from the synthesizer. “Someone was on my bridge.”

I turn now and stare at them both, hoping they’ll read from my expression that I’m not in the mood for lies. I know I probably should’ve led with a “Good morning, how are you, nice to see everyone still alive,” but I’m not ready to forget my anger from the day before—or my current level of annoyance.

Shae casts a furtive glance at C-CIL, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. Forget the fact that she shut up the second she saw me come in, that look says enough. I turn my gaze to C-CIL, raising my eyebrows expectantly.

“I was on your bridge, Captain,” he answers matter-of-factly.

I’ve got to admit, I’m a little surprised. If anyone was going to go onto the bridge after the speech I gave them yesterday, I didn’t think it would be C-CIL. I guess I assumed he didn’t have it in him to be…well, rebellious.

“Why?” I ask curtly, taking a sip of coffee and cocking my head to the side.

C-CIL sits quietly, seemingly deep in thought.

“I am learning, Captain,” he answers after a moment of reflection.

I am learning. What’s that supposed to mean?

“Could you…be a little more specific?” I ask, unable to keep the annoyance from creeping into my voice.

“I am learning, Captain,” he says again. Shae looks at C-CIL warmly, giving him a nod of encouragement.

“Please be patient with me,” he says, as if to explain his previous statement.

I let out an exasperated sigh.

“C-CIL, I know you still have a lot to learn, but you’ve got to listen to orders,” I say brusquely. I feel a pang of guilt even as the words come out. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, but it’s better he learns now that orders actually mean something. Besides, if I judge him by the company he keeps, I can’t say I exactly trust him.

I shove down the urge to apologize, biting my lip, and start to leave. But just as I’m about to walk out the door, something stops me.

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“Wait,” I hear someone say. But it wasn’t C-CIL’s voice. It was Shae’s.

I turn to face her and can feel the disbelief written all over my expression. She spoke. To me. I guess I knew she couldn’t keep up the silent act forever, but it still comes as a surprise.

I stare at her in a state of shock as she comes around the side of the table to stand next to C-CIL. Her face is flushed, and I can see she’s feeling self-conscious under my unwavering gaze, but she focuses her attention on C-CIL, nudging him insistently.

“Captain, I—there—heard—bridge—” the words come out clipped, disjointed.

“Take your time,” Shae says, her voice gentle and encouraging. “Keep trying, even if it doesn’t come out right the first time.”

I look at C-CIL quizzically. There’s something he wants to tell me, I realize. There’s something he wants to tell me, but he’s still learning how. That’s what he was trying to say. Man, now I really feel like a jerk. Here C-CIL is trying to learn how to communicate and all I can do is yell at him. I look down at my coffee in embarrassment. Way to go, Jahdra.

“Captain,” C-CIL says. “I heard a signal.” The words come out slowly, carefully. “I went to the bridge.”

“I understand,” I say with a nod. “You thought you heard a signal come in, and I wasn’t there, so you went to the bridge to check it out.” So there was an innocent explanation after all.

“Thanks for telling me, C-CIL. But next time, just come get me. Or better yet, tell Chrys.”

Shae smiles proudly at C-CIL, but his brow furrows in concern.

“Captain,” he says, his voice taking a serious note. “Chrys did not hear the signal.”

I take another sip of coffee. I’m not sure I’m caffeinated enough for this conversation.

“Maybe there was nothing there,” I shrug. “Or maybe you heard something else, something you thought was a signal.”

C-CIL seems to think about this for a minute. It’s fascinating to watch him. There’s clearly so much going on beneath the surface. I can see him struggling to reconcile what he knows with what he understands. Still, he’s come a long way in a short time. Just yesterday it seemed like all he could do was parrot back whatever the rest of us said.

I can see now why Shae is so invested. I mean, here she is, watching this new humanoid life become more and more human every day. I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty cool.

I look at C-CIL intently, watching him piece his thoughts together, think through what it is he wants to say.

“Captain,” he says after a minute or two of silence. “I am certain there is a signal. I can hear it.”

“Wait, you can hear it? Like, you can still hear it?” I ask, surprised at this new information.

“Yes,” C-CIL replies confidently. “Chrys cannot hear it, but I can.”

A signal that Chrys can’t hear but C-CIL can. That’s odd. And not really what I wanted to be dealing with right now. I still haven’t had a chance to shower, and the smell of my clothes isn’t exactly improving.

I hate to say it, but I have to wonder if it isn’t just some kind of malfunction that he’s misinterpreting, maybe a faulty sensor or a loose pathway connection.

“C-CIL, can you tell me anything about the signal?” I ask. “Where it’s coming from, who’s sending it?”

“I cannot identify the signal’s origin,” C-CIL replies. Looks like my theory may be right after all. Usually, any incoming signals are tagged with something like a ship ID or a set of coordinates. If he can’t figure out where it’s coming from, maybe the call’s coming from inside the house, so to speak.

“However, I have identified the signal type,” C-CIL say, interrupting my thoughts.

“Oh?” I say with curiosity, setting my cup of coffee down on the counter behind me.

“Captain, it is a distress signal.”