Chapter Text
Skaaiat sent a report daily, which in total told the story of the misappropriated food. She went first to the transplanted Radchaai in Kould Ves who would recognize the name of Awer, and requested a room from the cousin of a client of a client. She stayed in the home, operating by bidding servants or friends to bring news, being ever careful to prevent even the whispered rumor of her presence. With the help of her client, she unwove the subtle web of nervous mistakes and ill-informed coverups, taking their threads and tying them back together into a tangled net to catch the embezzler. Her last report said that she had tracked down a nearly certain suspect, a reportedly unsteady client of Osck, and she intended to pay her a social call on the pretense of some family relation. The shock of it, she hoped, would drive the embezzler to trip over the details of her lies so much that her frenzied covering would be easy to spot.
Instead, an hour after Skaaiat had intended to meet the thieving client, we received an alert from the hospital in Kould Ves, alerting us to Skaaiat’s critical condition after an attack with an improvised crossbow.
“Tell Skaaiat I’m on my way,” Awn said, standing up from her chair.
“Lieutenant, I must remind you that procedure requires a lieutenant to be present in the city at all times,” Ship said.
“Rouse Seven Issa One then, tell her that she has the command,” Awn snapped. “Ready the flyer.”
“Except in cases of immediate danger to the ship or jurisdiction at large, only a Captain or higher may promote a decade senior to Lieutenant,” Ship said. “However, I have no record of Reeducator Kuenr being formally removed of rank.”
“What?” Awn and I said.
“After serving as a reeducator with me, Translator Kuenr served briefly as the ship’s medic on Justice of Memna. I have the transfer logs for your review, and Captain Peraain’s recommendation.”
“And a Medic is technically a Lieutenant,” Awn breathed. “Kuenr, Ors is under your command for paperwork purposes. If you need anything… Well, I trust Ship with my life. You should too.” She took off out the door, and a moment later, the flyer roared toward Kould Ves.
“Thank you, Translator,” Ship said.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Didn’t you want her to stay?”
“I must remind the Lieutenant if I believe she is about to break procedure,” Ship said. “My Lord forbids otherwise. However, I wanted her to go.”
“Skaaiat is a favorite, then,” I said. I thought that ships only had favorites of their own officers, but I could imagine exceptions.
“No.” Ship sent me a brief image of the state of Lieutenant Awn’s brain activity. I read it with a bit more difficulty than I would have ninety years ago on Valskaay, but it was clear. Among the stress hormones and flashes of electrical activity, there was the signature of Awn’s fear for Skaaiat beyond concern for a mere colleague.
“Ah. That was for Awn’s peace of mind.”
“Yes.”