The cargo manifest flickered on the display as Seo Min-jae read it one last time. The Star was carrying medical-grade plasma, supposedly. But a quick skim of things said otherwise.

Varin Jekar stood behind her, arms behind his back in a posture so precise it could have been taught at the Obsidian Order academy. “You altered the shipping codes.”

Min-jae didn’t look up. “I corrected them.”

“They were logged under restricted priority.” His voice was cold. “people will notice.”

She tapped a few keys. “Only if they’re looking. Which they won’t be.”

There was a pause.

“You tend to assume command in places where you have none,” Varin said, moving to her side.

Min-jae turned, leaning back against the console, arms folded. “And you tend to mistake authority for intelligence.”

His eyes narrowed. “I am the First Mate. This ship functions under a hierarchy.”

“And I run the cargo, the contracts, and the credits. You want hierarchy?” She leaned in. “Try talking to the person who signs the deals.”

“You mean the Captain,” Varin said, “Your partner.”

There it was. The tilt in his head, the loaded pause. Min-jae smiled. “Yes. And I sleep with him. Let’s not pretend you meant something else.”

“I meant,” Varin replied, “that bias is a weakness. One that could compromise integrity.”

“No. What compromises integrity,” she said,  taking a step forward, “is when someone who hasn’t closed a single deal in six months lectures me on efficiency.”

His jaw tightened.

“Let’s be clear,” she continued. “You watch the bridge. I keep the lights on. We’re both essential. But don’t think for a second that you can pull rank. Funny how girlfriend still trumps First Mate.”

Varin didn’t respond immediately. “The Captain tolerates your presence because he believes in loyalty. I do not share his sentiments.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I’m not here for your approval. I’m here for results.”

They looked at each other, locked in an internal war of position.

Varin adjusted the cuff of his uniform. “If your adjustments draw attention, I will override them. And I will do so without hesitation.”

Min-jae raised a brow, “Just make sure you override them after we’re paid.”

Varin said nothing more. He turned and walked out.

Min-jae exhaled and turned back to the manifest, muttering under her breath, “Cardassians. All ice, no flame.”

The console beeped. Transfer confirmed. Her correction had worked. She allowed herself the tiniest smile.