The toxic whispers swirled around Elara Vance’s desk like vipers. “Who does she think she is?” Jenny, the junior researcher, hissed, her loyalty a transactional currency. “She’s making you look weak in front of everyone. You can’t let that stand.”

Elara didn’t look up from her monitor, where she was combing through dense Department of Defense subcontractor lists. Her smile was a thin, bloodless line. “Oh, she’ll stand down. They all do. She just needs the proper… ...