“Captain,” Mara said. “I have a request.”
The engineer’s signed reading had come through to Odren’s console a few minutes before. They had heard the chime on the open link. Odren had not said anything since. The floodlight still sat on the Tern’s glass.
“State it,” Odren said.
“Fuel,” Mara said. “We’re short. We spent our margin at Sable, on purpose, to spare something there. We’ve written it down as a debt. We can’t make Cinder without help.” She kept her voice level. “And a receipt. Sealed. With your name. Saying what data you received from us, here, today, and when.”
“A receipt.”
“For the survey and the signatures,” Mara said. “Because I know what happens to evidence. Someone holds it, and then something goes wrong, and afterward a report says the evidence only came to light later. After the catastrophe. As if nobody could have known.” She looked at the floodlight. “I want a paper that says you had it now. Today. Before anything happens. A later record can’t pretend the evidence came after.”
On the link, a long pause.
“Draft it,” Odren said.
