Page 10 of Every Almost

"Yes, Borran?"

"Please hurry."

The comms went silent. Reyna stared at the blank display, then turned back to Tavi, who was wiping his eyes.

"Are you finished?" Reyna asked.

"No," Tavi said, his voice strained. "You know, Cap, if he wasn't a seven-foot bear with tusks, I'd think he was a really sensitive guy."

"The Aetherfin, Tavi." Reyna grumbled.

He composed himself with visible effort. "Right, right," Tavi stated, bringing his datapad up again. "So, the boundary problem means I need a mechanical solution and I don't have one. Give me the three weeks. I'll keep running simulations, I'll consult with Maren on the hardware side, and if she and I can find a way to solve the transition, I'll have it ready. But I want to be honest with you." He met her eyes. "This one's hard."

"Vondra seems to think you can handle it."

"Vondra has never tried to push a localized zero-G field through seventy meters of standard-gravity corridor on a ship that was built before I was born."

"She said, and I quote, 'Make it happen.'"

Tavi stared at her. Then he laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Well, if theAdmiralsaid it." He stood, which didn't change his sightline much. "I'll start tonight." He walked toward the Captain's door leading out. "Three weeks, holy..." He made it to the door, then turned back. "Cap?"

"Yes?"

"If Borran's sourdough starter dies because Cael can't be bothered to handle a vent clearance, I'm holding you personally responsible."

"Get out of my office, Tavi."

He grinned, tossed her a salute that was seventy percent sincere and thirty percent insubordination, and left.

Reyna sat in the silence for exactly four seconds before she opened a comms channel.

"Cael."

A pause. Then: "Yes, Captain?"

"The ventilation issue in the Mess Hall kitchen. Borran filed the maintenance request yesterday. It concerns the food on the ship, so it needs to take priority. What's the status?"

"I've reviewed the request, Captain. It's been categorized and will be addressed in the standard maintenance rotation."

"When?"

Another pause. "Within the next forty-eight hours."

"Cael, there are Vryx in the vent. They may be cute, but they are threatening a sourdough culture that predates your tenure on this ship by three decades, among other ingredients that we use in our daily food." She paused, lowering her tone. "Fix it today."

"Captain, with respect, my team has higher-priority calibrations scheduled for?—"

"Today, Cael."

A longer pause. "Yes, Captain."

Reyna closed the channel. She leaned back in her chair and pressed both hands over her face. Her gold Kaelari constellation markings across her fingers caught the light from her desk lamp, steady and warm and perfectly controlled, as they always were.

Three Aetherfin. An impossible transition problem. Vryx in the bread. And a Chief Engineer whose priorities could use some recalibrating of their own.

She had a feeling the day was just getting started.

Torvax appearedat her office door moments after she had hung up with Cael, as though summoned by an internal efficiency clock telling him exactly when the Captain needed him. He said nothing, just simply fell into step beside her the way he'd done for thirteen years, his datapad already in hand, his posture immaculate.