“If there were a market for slaves or body parts, I’d say money. I don’t think there is such a market, though I may be mistaken. But I can’t help thinking of all the military ships that don’t have ancillaries anymore, and all the people who wished they still did.” Captain Hetnys might well be one of those people. But I didn’t say that.

“Your ship doesn’t have ancillaries,” Governor Giarod pointed out.

“It does not,” I agreed. “Whether a ship does or doesn’t have ancillaries is not a good predictor of its opinion of our no longer making them.”

Governor Giarod blinked, surprised and puzzled, it seemed. “A ship’s opinion doesn’t matter, does it? Ships do as they’re ordered.” I said nothing, though there was a great deal to say about that. The governor sighed. “Well, and I was wondering how any of this mattered when we have a civil war going on that might find its way here. I see the connection, now, Fleet Captain, but I still think you’re chasing a rumor. And I haven’t even heard anything about Valskaayans, only the one about Samirend from before I came here.”

“Give me accesses.” I could send Mercy of Kalr. Seivarden had experience with troop carrier holds, she would know what to do, once I’d told her what I wanted. Right now she was on watch, in central command. Ill at ease since that conversation with Ship. Resisting the urge to cross her arms. A nearby Amaat was humming to herself. My mother said it all goes around. “I’ll take care of it myself. If everything is as it should be, you won’t have lost anything.”

“Well.” She looked down at her plate, picked up her utensil, made as if to pick up a piece of fish, and then stopped. Lowered her hand again. Frowned. “Well,” she said again. “You were right about Raughd Denche, weren’t you.”

I had wondered if she would mention that. The fact that Raughd had been disinherited would be common knowledge within a day, I suspected. Rumor of the rest of what had happened would eventually reach the station, but no one would openly mention the matter, particularly not to me. Governor Giarod, however, was the one person here with access to a full, official report. “I was not pleased to be right,” I said.

“No.” Governor Giarod set her utensil down again. Sighed.

“I would also,” I said, before she could say anything more, “like you to require the planetary vice-governor to look into the living and working conditions of the field workers in the mountain tea plantations. In particular, I suspect the basis on which their wages are calculated is unfair.” It was entirely possible that the field workers would get what they wanted from the district magistrate. But I wouldn’t assume that.