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"The creatures are well, Captain," Selowen said. Her voice took three full seconds to form the sentence, each word arrivinglike it had walked a long distance to get there. "The Luminthra are sleeping more deeply since the humidity adjustment."

"That's good to hear."

"I adjusted it by one point four percent."

"And it made a difference?"

Selowen turned to look at Reyna. It took a moment, but she smiled, a slow unfurling that started at one corner of her mouth and arrived at the other about two seconds later.

"Everything makes a difference, Captain. You just have to notice."

Reyna felt her chest unclench, just slightly. Selowen had that effect, not just on Reyna, but on the entirety of the crew and the animals she cared for. As the Chief Animal Specialist aboard the Emberkind, she was the one person on this ship who made the universe feel unhurried, as though the Aetherfin and the Vryx and the three-week deadline existed in a different current of time that Selowen simply chose not to be swept up in.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Captain." A pause. "The Pyrralon Driftback also sends his regards."

"Does he?"

"He basked at you for three seconds this morning. For a Driftback, that is practically a declaration."

Reyna laughed. A real one, short and surprised. "Sounds like someone else I know."

"Torvax would be flattered by the comparison," Selowen said, her gaze looking over her shoulder at the First Mate in question watching over the Luminthra.

Reyna glanced back at Torvax. "Or horrified."

Selowen's smile completed its journey across her face at the warm sound from her captain. Behind them, Torvax's expression didn’t change. But he didn't dispute the comparison,either. Instead, he made a note on his datapad, and Reyna suspected it had nothing to do with the Driftback.

They left the Habitat Wing in the particular silence that always followed a visit with Selowen, as though the calm she cultivated clung to you for a few steps before the rest of the ship took over again.

"Humidity adjustment logged," Torvax said, updating his datapad as they walked. "Selowen's report is consistent with her submitted data. No discrepancies."

"Did you expect discrepancies?"

"No. But thoroughness requires verification regardless of expectation."

"And the Library?"

"Orion. Pyrralon migration data. He has been looking forward to this conversation for, by my estimate, several days."

"Then let's not keep him waiting."

"I suspect that would be impossible, Captain. Orion does not experience waiting the way others do. He simply reads until you arrive."

The Library wastwo corridors over from the habitat wing, tucked into a section of the ship that had been quiet since before Reyna took command. It was a space that discouraged rushing, where the lighting was softer, the corridors slightly narrower, and the ambient hum of the ship seemed to settle into a lower register. It was as if the Emberkind itself understood that this was a place for quiet and accumulation of knowledge.

Torvax followed Reyna inside, taking his usual position near the door, datapad ready. The Library was one of the few places on the ship where Torvax appeared to consciously reduce hispresence, standing a few degrees stiller than usual for his ever-present efficiency.

Orion's desk was covered with datapads stacked in columns that should have been precarious and yet weren't. Physical texts from dozens of worlds, some bound, some scrolled, some in formats Reyna couldn't identify. A cup of tea, still steaming, sat in the one clear space among the organized chaos, as though the chaos itself respectfully made room for it.

Orion looked up when she entered. Reyna took in his warm bronze skin as it caught the Library's soft light, his amber-honey eyes brightening at her approach. She noted how his features were always broad and open, the kind of face that immediately made you want to sit and talk. Today, he wore his dark hair pulled back, and his hands stilled on his datapad when she approached.

"Captain." His voice had that Veladris resonance, a quality in the timbre that was physiologically soothing, evolved from a species that had spent millennia calling to each other across island waters. Reyna always imagined it as the vocal equivalent of a hand on your shoulder.

"Orion. How's the archive?"

"Growing, as it should be. This new data I've been cataloguing on the Pyrralon migration that Selowen collected last quarter... what remarkable patterns." He leaned back in his chair. "But I imagine I may have new data soon?" He tilted his head at Reyna. "On three specific Aetherfin?"