Adjutant Millington unconsciously smoothed the slightly wrinkled fabric of her uniform across her abdomen as she moved with smooth, measured steps toward the commander's waiting room. She had left the woman waiting for precisely as long as ordered. It hadn't occurred to Millington why such games were necessary; questioning the commander was not one of her habits. From the small embedded video terminal broadcasting from the waiting room's surveillance apparatus, Millington could see the woman's impatience growing, though she hid it well; it was in the flutter of the pulse at the throat and the almost incidental shifting of papers in the hand.The door cracked open at the adjutant's approach, and Millington strode through evenly, stopping at precicely the correct formal distance from the visitor. She waited as the other woman's eyes flickered over her uniform, saw the moment of hesitation before the salute. Millington blandly returned it and held out her hand for the woman's papers.
