mavicvirim:

He activated his desk terminal and typed in the parameters for his search. “I’ve been a requisitions officer for six years.” He answered. “I’ve been in this particular posting for about four months.” The terminal finished its search and he turned the thing toward the man, showing him the screen and scrolling through the options.

                   Victus said nothing, immediately.  He was not in the habit to fill the silence with words; it was all just so much white noise.  His deep-set eyes flickered over the screen with practiced movements.  He was skimming, really.  Gleaning just the basics of the armaments available to him.  It was all he needed, and he was satisfied.

                    “Good.” He said at last, although it was unclear if he referred to the requisitions catalog or the young man’s employment history.  With a few short jabs at his omnitool, he made the necessary arrangements to procure his interests.  He might not have had spectre authority, per say, but his own channels of authorization certainly made due.

                   “Adrien Victus.” he offered, extending his hand.  “Thank you for your patience.  Not sure I caught your name.”

                  .

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