Page 217 of Commander’s Mate

Tivid enlarged the slave barracks. “Security is designed primarily to keep laborers inside, not repel a Farseek ground assault. But the transfer records show increased guard hiring since Ursaga.”

“They know someone copied their data,” I said.

“Likely.”

“Then our window narrows.”

Degatu nodded. “We leave Halor within twelve hours.”

Before the meeting ended, I raised one more issue.

“The Earth women have requested training.”

Pyrr’s interest became suspiciously sharp.

“All four?” Degatu asked.

“Yes. Scarlet Andrews has prior military experience. Nora Reed will train primarily with medical. Zoe Addison has physical conditioning experience. Harper—”

I stopped.

Degatu waited.

Harper was not a warrior. She had delivered mail and wanted to write stories. On paper, those facts sounded almost absurd beside soldiers and med-techs.

But she had organized a refugee registry in days. She saw systems. Routes. Missing information. She remembered names. She understood how one wrong record could erase a person.

“Harper will train in logistics and basic defensive skills,” I said. “Tivid believes she has aptitude for information organization and operational support.”

Pyrr’s mouth twitched. “You sound proud.”

“I am her commander.”

“You are also her mate.”

“I can be two things.”

Degatu coughed into his fist.

I ignored them both.

The truth was simpler.

Harper had chosen Farseek.

Now Farseek had to make room for what she could become.

Dreadnought Eight’s report should have remained a report.

It did not.

Within an hour, the outer corridor filled with volunteers.

Not healthy warriors waiting for orders.

Survivors.

A mechanic with one hand still wrapped in burn mesh.