“She’s not,” Tennal said. He could imagine what would happen if he challenged the legislator on those grounds. She didn’t need to conscript him legally—she only had to have a word with the people who could. “I already said it wasn’t like that. We just agreed I needed a change of scene.”

Zin ignored the interruption. “The army needs a documented violation to conscript anyone, did you know that? One that relates to one of three relevant acts. And she never let them document anything on you,” she added. “I checked.”

Tennal paused. “You’ve been working hard on this pre-Legal course stuff, huh?” he said. He flicked the pile of books. “You know the world’s not going to end if you take a break.”

Zin shrugged, an air of embarrassment clinging to her. “You should know,” she said. “It’s important.”

“I’m not saying it’s not important,” Tennal said slowly. He could feel the wheels in his mind start to spin again. “I’m just saying it’s not relevant to the situation right now.” His wristband buzzed. Shit, that was his escort. He was out of time. “Okay, I’ve got to run. Hey, though, can I get a reading recommendation from the Honorable Counsel Zinyary? For boring stretches on the ship?”

Zin silently pulled one of the books from the pile. The glowing letters on the side said The Law and Codes of Manual Neuromodification.

Tennal wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that she’d had it right on hand. “Thanks,” he said, folding the book into block form. Her half-hopeful, half-defensive expression was so familiar from many years needling each other, but there was so much seriousness to it now that Tennal had to look away. It wasn’t really Tennal’s fault that he was abandoning her this time, except it was—it had all been his own doing.

The folded book was now a slim block the size of his palm. He tossed it in the air and caught it before sliding it into his pocket. “Don’t worry about me. I think I can make this trip interesting.”

CHAPTER 4

“Thirty thousand liters of goats’ milk,” the district captain said despairingly. “Chicken eggs! Livestock! Fifty tons of feed pellets! And that’s not to mention all the damage to the hardware!”

“Sir,” Surit said neutrally. He stood in the district captain’s small, bare-bones office with his hands linked behind his back and stared at the Cavalry emblem on the wall behind the desk.

The district captain gave him an outraged look. More seemed to be called for. Surit cleared his throat. “I believe it was thirty-one thousand, nine hundred and fifty liters of goats’ milk.”

“The quantity of milk is immaterial, Lieutenant!”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you crashed into this freighter because…?”

“It wasn’t us, sir. The freighter had to swerve, and then it hit the gunship.”