But I could not fault them, for they were right. Stellar politics had somehow overridden cohesive military strategy. I knew what was hidden in the storm front: an aerial fortress that dwarfed the governor’s château and grounds. I had said nothing, for I had no one to speak to and no evidence to provide, with Iwazar confiscated. And I feared what they would do if I spoke up.

But Shard had no fear. She must have said something. If they had let her.

I resumed playback, watching Shard disappear into the shadows. It was then Kikazar’s error became clear. I had not instructed it to eavesdrop on any particular individual, merely a conversation, and when Shard had departed it elected to shadow the wing commander instead.

I doubted I should watch further. His private conversations were not for my ears. But I needed to know what had happened to her. So, I accelerated the recording and cut the audio, instructing the seer-skull to restore standard playback in the event Shard’s name was spoken aloud. I saw Prospherous race at ludicrous speed around the compound, bellowing silent orders as the seer-skull watched from the shadows.

I tried to keep focused, particularly when the playback slowed at the mention of Shard’s name. But Prospherous dismissed any questions concerning her with a shrug, advising the other officers he had provided an evening’s leave. As the mention of her name became less and less frequent I found my eyes glazing.

I do not know when I fell asleep, only that I awoke to a thumping at the door. The pict was still playing, but the wing commander had retired at some point, Kikazar taking residence in the shadows outside his dorm, perhaps through some strange sense of propriety.

The hammering continued, the door shaking under the flurry of blows. I recognised the braying voice accompanying it, and feared Flight Commander Gradeolous was poised to put his fist through the wood.

I ceased playback, the image collapsing as I hobbled to the door. It opened stiffly, revealing Gradeolous accompanied by a trio of armed ground crew. Governor Dolos’ guards were stood facing the far wall, having inexplicably chosen that moment to inspect the bark.

‘What took you so long?’ Gradeolous thundered as he barged past me. ‘There is a damn war scheduled for the morn and you are making me tardy.’

I had barely woken and could only blink in response. Not that it mattered; he pressed on, his finger stabbing at Kikazar.

‘Give me that pict-thing.’

‘I’m sorry?’

He glared at me, but my sleep-addled brain was slow, and fixated on his untrained moustache. He did not respond well to my reticence, eyes narrowing. For a moment I thought he might strike me. His knuckles were already stained red, as was his sleeve.

‘My apologies,’ I said. ‘I retired late as I was working on the pict. I am a little dazed.’