“You can stop the game and keep your place. The food won’t wait.”
“Put a note to check the Ship’s Trees,” Martisset said. “I don’t like the look of the nitrogen levels.”
“I’m Captain. You’re just the Quartermaster.”
“Quartermaster’s supposed to keep track of things,” Martisset said.
“Captain Yasmin and Quartermaster Martisset, the Landfall feast is served,” Martisset’s father said, as the girls looked up from their argument and reluctantly shook themselves out from the curled-up posture they’d assumed around the console.
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