Nobody's Servant 1.0

Distractions

It does not take long to get Suraokh up to speed; we were not even separated for that long. He reprimands me for having potentially overshared, but we still found our way to the mainland either way. The ship stays in port for another day, but eventually the Dominion corvette situation settles enough to resupply, and by next morning we depart bright and early, though the tiny, windowless room they have sequestered for passengers does my perception of time no favors, nor do the odd hours at which I sleep.

I get marginally more familiar with a few others over time, from encountering them on deck or at meals. The hyena I encountered in the showers the day before is Dahlia, a veteran from the Toraanan coast who insisted on continuing the fight even following her honorable discharge. The cat she was with is Rohka, a Republic mercenary who found this line of work more enriching than the corporate espionage the Nahrrimurn family is usually commissioned for. His mother Neien, and older brother Sal accompany him, and command a certain degree of reverence from newer crew, especially those who emigrated from Velhik like them. Most revered of all of course is Captain Tsing, an aberrated cheetah whose heroism when the Second Nayre Dominion fell and the Third rose might have earned her a role as a Warden of the new Empress, but she turned it down. I see her least of all, as the twins who run the galley usually deliver portions to her cabin and save her the trouble of coming down. Any time I do happen to run into her, it's usually her second-in-command, Rua, who greets me from her shoulder. The little cinnabar-striped mantler almost seems to live among her hardware, perfectly sized for it and such conditions must remind them of the subterranean conditions they're more accustomed to.

"It wasn't my first choice," Yhana regales over breakfast, "but it's not like I was spoiled for them. My folks all kicked the bucket young and I didn't even finish my time in the youth corps before they decided I was a bad fit. I got whatever was up with my dad and it was too inconvenient to deal with. Speaking of..."

I know better than to complain by now. I pass her my battery, which she happily drains even more from as casually as she might drink water through a glass straw. It's really not that much every time, but by the fourth or fifth, it's beginning to rack up quite a cost.

"...And he also had your habits?" I venture as she hands it back to me.

"I think he wouldn't have been nearly as sickly if he did. I miss him, but I don't know if he'd like what he sees, if he was still around."

I want to reassure her, and it also strikes me, then, that I can almost relate, but I don't figure out how to articulate either thought before a third person joins us at the table. Suraokh slides wordlessly onto the bench beside me, and Yhana quickly finishes off everything on her tray.

"I've taken too long anyway. See you around," she excuses, and she hurries off.

As much as I would like to learn more about her, she never sticks around for long after Suraokh appears, as he does disproportionately often with her. I attribute it to his smothering and overprotective nature.

He does not, however, linger for very long either. More often than not, as is the case immediately following breakfast, I find him pacing the edges of the deck as if someone asked him to patrol. On one such observation, I decide to join him.

"We're still quite a ways off from land, I'm pretty sure," I remark.

"Not looking for land yet," Suraokh says. "Someone could be following us."

"You don't think the crew will notice?" I ask.

"If you are not paranoid... you are not paying attention," he insists. "Prelature has gotten much tooooo..." he sticks on the fifth word, forcing past his old pattern. "...Crafty." Then he paces quickly off to round the stern.