Oma tapped her fingers on the desk in front of her. It was an aesthetic surface, covered with milky-white nebulas that swirled like clouds under the movement. “The regulators are notorious for telling people exactly what will benefit the regulators,” she said.

Tennal couldn’t believe he was hearing this—criticism of the regulators, from someone as senior as this—and had a wild urge to agree with this shorn-headed general with the pleasant stare and the hidden bite under half the things she said. Take me out of here, he almost said. I can work for you instead.

No, think about it logically, said the cold portion of his brain that always sounded disturbingly like his aunt. Oma didn’t have any authority outside her station. The best he could hope for was her help after he escaped, and for that, he needed to get through this mission without the commander deciding to handcuff him to his workstation while they were in port.

“If this is why you called—” the commander said irritably.

“Then it’s completely unnecessary,” Tennal cut in. “I’m perfectly content on the Fractal Note at the moment, Governor.”

“Does that end this circus?” the commander said. “This is my fleet, Governor, however much control you have on your station.”

Oma had narrowed her eyes when Tennal said at the moment. Good. She might or might not want to help him, but he’d gotten his message across; you didn’t rise to governor-general and put down a coup by being slow on the uptake. Tennal ignored Surit’s repeated glances at him. Surit should know Tennal would lie when it was useful.

“I see,” Oma said, sitting back in her chair. It was dark wood, inlaid with a fan of gold behind her head, and she looked uncomfortable in it. “In that case, I seem to have wasted your precious time, Commander. I do apologize.” She smiled, pleasant but unconvinced. “I look forward to the results of your mission.”

She didn’t spare Tennal or Surit another glance before killing the connection. The wall shimmered back to dull gray.

Suddenly the flag chamber did feel empty. Commander Vinys leaned back in his chair and contemplated Tennal and Surit standing in front of him. “So. I don’t suppose I have to tell you this threatens the operational security of the mission.”

“No, sir,” Surit said, before Tennal had time to reply. “No communications will go out from my unit. I’ll make sure.”

“She mentioned her sources.”