Page 311 of Commander’s Mate

“It sounds territorial.”

“Coming from aliens who name ships by number, that’s rich.”

Tivid did not react.

He had learned that reacting encouraged me.

The office was small.

One desk.

Two chairs.

A secure wall display.

A cabinet that locked.

A viewport no wider than my hand.

I loved it immediately.

I refused to admit that.

“What is this actually for?”

“Registry command.”

“Command?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a mail carrier.”

“You have said.”

“A lot.”

“Yes.”

He brought up the staffing list.

Six Farseek clerks.

Two rescued translators.

One Haloran legal liaison.

A medical-records specialist.

Three part-time family-search volunteers.

Zoe for rehabilitation flags.

Nora for protected medical access.

Scarlet for security-routing concerns.

My mouth went dry.