The commander read the quest twice and asked everyone except her quartermaster to leave the contact alcove.
Eli had known her as a woman who could refuse a request without making the refusal an insult. She had refused an armed confrontation at the chamber. Her operators still owned the alloy fittings they had lent; her people had kept their return conditions when everyone else wanted an emergency to dissolve them. Now she stood with one hand flat against the wall, staring at a name beneath the quest’s reward.
Juno’s remote contact was open. The commander did not yet permit the display to be read aloud.
“It’s someone in my care,” she said. “The name stays out of the public channel.”
Eli nodded.
The quartermaster copied the wording into a private record. An independent operator witnessed the time without needing to see the dependent’s name. The commander checked the copy herself, then allowed Eli to read the condition close enough that no one beyond the alcove could.
The threatened action was specific. If she declined the assignment, that person’s shelter transport would be diverted from its present destination. The quest named the transport in enough detail to make a mistake unlikely.
