"So here's my condition: effective immediately, we re-route five percent of every black-market shipment to a discretionary fund. That fund goes to the families of the previous three Fleet Coordinators. And if anyone tries to trigger my implant, every file I've ever touched—every hidden manifest, every ghost route, every single name—gets broadcast to every authority in the sector."
"Mysterious," Director Halix echoed, tasting the word. "One had a nervous breakdown. One was reassigned to a garbage scow near Betelgeuse. And one…" He glanced at the silver-haired woman. "One simply vanished." skyla novea - the promotion
Captain Vellen folded her arms. "Because the job isn't about spreadsheets and inventory anymore, Novea. The Fleet Coordinator sees everything. The secret routes. The unregistered shipments. The cargo that doesn't officially exist. You'll know where the Arcadia goes when it disappears from the log for three days every quarter. You'll know whose names are on the hidden manifests." "So here's my condition: effective immediately, we re-route
Skyla swallowed. "Because the last three candidates resigned under mysterious circumstances, ma'am." "One had a nervous breakdown
Her heart did a strange thing: a hard, hopeful thump against her ribs, followed by the sickening lurch of dread. The Promotion . Everyone on the Arcadia knew the rumor. A single logistics officer would be elevated to Fleet Coordinator—a position with authority over supply routes for twelve sector colonies. It meant a private cabin, a salary with actual zeros, and the terrifying luxury of being noticed by people who could ruin you. At 05:58, Skyla stood before the polished obsidian doors of Observation Deck 7. She had borrowed a serviceable grey tunic from a friend in quartermaster stores. Her boots were scuffed but clean. Her hair was pulled back so tight it hurt. She looked like someone trying very hard not to look like someone trying very hard.
Captain Vellen laughed—a short, ugly sound. "Tell them what? That you were hallucinating from sleep deprivation? That you came to this meeting and heard nothing? We have three witnesses, Novea. You have a jumpsuit with grease stains and a reputation for being 'intense.' Who do you think they'll believe?" Silence stretched like a wire.