Page 335 of Commander’s Mate

Hekara transferred.

Records copied.

Fuel taken.

Payment—

Harper looked at me.

“We pay civilian workers.”

Pyrr objected.

“They work for Sargus.”

“They repair ships.”

“They repair Sargus ships.”

“So do mechanics on Earth who work for terrible companies. We are not stealing wages from laborers because their owner sucks.”

The translator struggled with the last word.

Degatu rubbed his forehead.

“Pay the workers.”

Pyrr muttered.

Harper smiled.

The plan became stranger.

Also better.

At the end, Tivid displayed Julconi.

The prison world rotated over the table.

He highlighted three facilities.

One held Farseek transfer codes.

One held mixed political prisoners and enslaved labor.

One had received a transport from Breskaa twenty-six days ago.

Meya.

Probable.

Not certain.

Enough.

I looked at Harper.

Her expression said she knew exactly which marker I had seen.