Oh, this must’ve gone further than Tennal had guessed. That sounded like Istara had a personal gender reference beyond they, and they’d let Basavi use it. Sometimes people had more nuances to their gender than Tennal bothered with for his own, and sometimes they were public about it, but sometimes they weren’t; sometimes it was a major stage of intimacy just to let someone know. Unsurprisingly not many people had ever trusted Tennal that much. Tennal wasn’t going to ask about Istara’s personal gender, because he had some sense of propriety despite his best efforts and Basavi clearly hadn’t meant to say it, but he did have questions about Istara and Basavi hooking up.

But what came out of his mouth, in Surit’s phrasing, was: “I see. You’re entitled to your privacy under the regulations.”

It hadn’t just come out in Surit’s phrasing. It had come out in Surit’s exact tone of voice.

Tennal’s hand went to his own throat.

Basavi had noticed. It was impossible not to notice; it was Surit’s voice, only changed a little by Tennal’s lungs and jaw. Tennal didn’t have any way to explain that. He had a sudden wild wish for a pack of soothers. He didn’t have any.

Basavi made a worried noise, but Tennal got there first. “Just a side effect,” he said. “I’m all right.” He almost meant it. He might not have had any soothers, but he did have a safety valve now: he had the reassuring clockwork of Surit’s mind when his own head got too bad. That was just as good. “Everything’s fine.”

It was fine.

Over the next three days in space, Tennal could see them both changing. There was more confidence to Surit’s step, less erraticism in Tennal’s. Tennal found it easier and easier to slip into the well-maintained structure of Surit’s mind, the clean lines and organized thoughts. Tennal was only half-present during his pilot shifts, their snatched meals, the time he spent wandering the ship to make sure the soldiers were on task. The rest of his mind was in Surit’s body.

When one of them opened their mouth, the other could speak with their voice. When Tennal found a soldier with no sense of humor, he could pull the harmonics of Surit’s rock-solid certainty into his voice and steal Surit’s phrasing to give himself credibility. When Surit, on the other side of the ship, was lost for an answer, Tennal could give him a sharp deflection.