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Pirra’s head was pounding, an ache in the center of her forehead that was the result of too much work.

She checked her system for how long she’d been at it; she’d come in early, far more so than normal, hoping to knock out this bureaucratic work before her proper day started.

How naive she’d been, thinking she could power through bureaucracy.

She understood its existence, of course.  Even with a thousand layers of minor AIs trying to cut the clutter and reduce such work to a minimum, you could not run an interstellar society with quadrillions of members without a bureaucracy to match.  Organization on this scale was probably their greatest invention, even moreso than breaking the laws of physics.

It was near the hour she should clock out, she noted.  So much for getting to her normal work.

She didn’t feel as if she had really achieved much.  Only homeostasis within the system, which could be considered a feat so soon after a major combat event, but it felt like treading water.  Not forward movement.

And she’d just taken over command; there was a lot to do to continue to bring the position fully into her own before she could feel things were really back to normal.

Iago had had his own system, and . . .

The thought faded as she considered the man.  He’d had such a hard time after that mission to Terris.  Elliot, too – like a nephew to her.  They were from the same island, after all, weren’t they?

A world of archipelagos like her homeworld of Enope meant people became attached to those of their island in a way that she didn’t think most humans understood; perhaps those from islands did, but to her people it was far more than that.  To be from the same island as another meant a kinship that was as deep as blood.

And what was the Craton, if not their island?

The paperwork could wait, she thought, standing, and folding her wing drapes around herself.  Iago had been strange even during the combat, and she’d barely seen him since.  Part of her had been angry with him, with how he’d run into the action instead of away, as she had ordered.

But she would have to learn not what people should do, but what they would do.  She put him in the situation where he’d been presented with combat, and expected him to go against all his training and desire to help.

If she was going to have him out there, she should have put him in a team that could keep up.

Thankfully, Kessissiin had been with him, to give him someone equally brave, equally talented-

She felt annoyed thinking of the young Dessei officer.  He was capable, well-trained, disciplined, and bold.  It was a fantastic and terrible combination, as it meant he knew he could be more and would reach for it, even before he was ready.

And she did not know whose side he was really on.

Not that there should be sides; the fact that her opponent here was her brother – which really meant their mother – who were both from her island, too.

But her mother had always had ideas of just what Pirra should do with her life.

Realizing her crest had gone up in indignation, she soothed it down with a hand, then left her office.

She couldn’t do a thing about Kessissiin right now.  Hopefully, once his Detachment Training was complete, he could just go back to the Dessei Republic Fleet and not bother her anymore.

She began towards Iago’s cabin, trying to focus on the issue at hand.

---

Pirra’s hand had barely pulled away from the entry request button when the door opened.

“Iago!” she chirped, pleased.  “It’s good to see you!”

The man’s face had looked excited, even eager, as the door opened, but in just a moment it changed – closing to her, his eyes darkening.

In fact, everything about his body language, as far as she could tell of another species, had just turned borderline hostile.

“Oh, Pirra,” he said.  “I didn’t realize it was you.”

The room behind him was dark, she noticed.  All the lights were out.

“Expecting someone?” she asked.  “Maybe Watchito’s?  I heard they just started up again.”

“Something like that,” Iago replied passively.  “What can I do for you, Commander?”

Pirra blinked, surprised and uncomfortable.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” she said, now feigning her cheer.  “It’s been some time since we just talked.  I miss you.”

The last words were not very . . . her.  At least not something she’d care to share with anyone outside of perhaps Alexander.  But they came anyway, and a part of her felt hopeful it would have some effect on the man.

But nothing changed on his face.  “It has been awhile, yeah,” he said.

“May I come in?” she asked.  “I thought we could catch up, and-“

“No, sorry,” Iago said curtly, cutting her off.  “I’m afraid that Elliot and I are kind of busy.  Just waiting for a drone courier.”

“I could . . . just wait with you until it arrives, then?” she asked hopefully.

“Best if not,” he said.  “We’re growing Lily of the Valley in here.  Pretty sure that Dessei have an allergy to them, don’t they?”

Something prickled in the back of her mind.

‘Lily of the Valley’ was a very specific plant for Iago to have, one that she was particularly allergic to.  He knew that.

It was serious enough that she was automatically informed by the ship’s system if anyone grew them.  The risk of her having a severe reaction to the pollen was too high.

She hadn’t gotten any such notification.

“Oh, of course,” she said.  “Sorry for bothering you.  But . . . perhaps we could get a drink on Gohhi when we get there?”

Iago nodded sharply.  “Yeah.  That’d be great.  See you then.”

The door shut.

Pirra stayed a moment longer, wondering what else she should do.

Turning, she began to walk away.

Then, on a spur of the moment, she checked her system, looking for Elliot.

He was on the garden level, it seemed.  She checked back to look at his room.  Nothing looked wrong, but she connected to the Response system and checked the room again.

It said that there were two occupants; Iago and Elliot Caraval.

She paused trying to figure out why there would be an anomalous reading such as that.  Checking the power usage logs, she saw that the room had been using a normal day/night cycle, like every other room.  In fact, right now it should be brightly lit, and at no point since last night had the lights been off.

But she had seen that they were off.

There was only one explanation she could think of; Iago was spoofing the data with a Blank Box.

Whatever he was doing in there, he didn’t want anyone to know.

She started walking again, quickly.

“Pirra to Dr. Y.  May I see you?” she asked.

“Of course!” the doctor replied.  “I am in engineering, but I can-“

“No.  I’ll meet you there.”

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