Haruka Sterling had been part of their group since the beginning, but she'd always maintained a certain distance—not unfriendly, just self-contained. She participated in study sessions, contributed when asked, but rarely initiated conversation. Her datapad stayed clipped to her belt even when she wasn't using it, like she was always ready to leave.
That changed during their seventh week.
Haruka arrived at the study table carrying a small handheld sensor and an expression of intense focus. Her right shoulder was still taped—the injury from zero-g training hadn't fully healed—but she moved with her usual precise efficiency.
She set the sensor on the table and pointed at the overhead light fixture directly above them.
"That light is wrong," she announced.
Everyone looked up. The light lo
