CHAPTER 9
Watching Nicholen interact with Breniel was fascinating to Xaviara. She loved seeing him at work—he was clearly in his element, interrogating a suspect. Breniel’s stance and quick answers revealed that he respected the Captain of the Guard, but he seemed to be uncomfortable. Plus his eyes kept returning to the bank of consoles behind Nicholen. Was he hiding something? Waiting for a message? Eager to get back to work?
She decided not to push it, preferring to see Nicholen with their other two suspects before they finished comparing notes.
Xaviara pulled up the cramped mess hall on the wallscreen. Four of the five tables were full, and Xaviara’s fellow aides Rosa, Piotr, and Kristoph huddled along the back wall. Rosa was laughing, Kristoph was telling an animated story, and Piotr was smirking while tracing his finger over his wrist tattoo, the infinity symbol surrounded by a circle. She almost felt a strain of jealousy—Piotr also seemed to be attempting to befriend the other two, at her expense—but then decided she’d rather be working with Nicholen any day.
Nicholen glanced up at the camera, and she warmed at the thought of having a secret they shared. He inclined his head toward a table, indicating where Lianndra sat with Jessan and two kadyyza aides Xaviara had had brief interactions with. Their plates were mostly empty, and all four lounged with the posture of someone who’d finished a satisfying meal.
Xaviara adjusted the audio to pick up the conversation in that corner.
Nicholen squared his shoulders and marched toward the table. His bearing changed. With Breniel and even Gloria earlier, his back had been straight, but now he seemed to be bracing for something.
Lianndra was laughing an open-mouthed laugh when he stopped at the head of their table. “That is great,” she was saying to Jessan. “I can’t believe he fell for that.”
“Who fell for what?” Nicholen’s first words were much less self-assured than Xaviara had heard before.
“Don’t worry about it, Nich.” Lianndra didn’t look up at him. “Nothing to do with you.”
He seemed to flounder, then drew himself tall again. “I’d like a word.”
“About what?”
“The crash.”
“We’re in the middle of dinner,” she said, still grinning.
Jessan and the aides had fallen silent, their faces not full of the mirth Lianndra’s held.
“May I?” said Nicholen to the closest aide. “You’re done, anyway.”
“Look, trincaar,” the sarcasm behind the word was overt, “it’s rude to interrupt a meal.”
Nicholen’s face was darkening, but before he could answer, Jessan pushed herself standing. “Come along. Let’s leave these two to talk.” She addressed Lianndra. “Don’t be rude. He’s your trincaar.” That word was loaded with overtones, not the least of which was an admonishment that she needed to respect Nicholen’s true station.
Xaviara’s eyes darted between the older and younger women. Jessan’s mouth was drawn into a thin line, and Lianndra’s lip stuck out in almost a pout. She finally waved a hand. “Go. We were done anyway.”
Without a word, the aides scurried after Jessan, who gracefully swept from the room.
What a piece of work. Xaviara didn’t have to be a Senior anything of anything to detect that.
Nicholen slid into the seat across from Lianndra.
“I thought the humans were working on the rescue.” Lianndra wasn’t looking at her newest companion.
“Yes, but it doesn’t hurt to approach the problem from several angles.”
“True,” her mouth lifted in a sneer, “and I’d rather have a kadyyza on it than trust the problem to outsiders.”
Xaviara was starting to see why Nicholen didn’t like her—brusque, rude, and a barely contained xenophobe to boot. What did Camlan see in this woman to allow her on diplomatic missions?
“I was just in the engine room going over the results from the crash with Breniel.” Nicholen voice was low, almost a growl. “I found something interesting.”
“Did you?” The words were tossed out casually, but Xaviara detected interest in her tone.
“We believe the ship was sabotaged. What do you know about that?”
“Me?” She barked her loud laugh again. “Nothing.”
“Ah. Well. Where were you this afternoon between fourteen and fifteen hundred hours?”
Even Lianndra’s eye roll was exaggerated. “Is this how it’s going to be? Honestly, Nicholen, I don’t know why you’re wasting your time on me when you could be hunting down the real culprit.”
“You know why,” he said quietly.
“Just because I cheated on the guy doesn’t mean I want to strand him on a wild planet.”
“Twice.” Nicholen punctuated the word with his thumb and pointer. “You cheated on him twice.”
“And if I wanted to kill him, I could have done so a thousand times over. I have no reason to go out of my way to create such an elaborate scenario.”
Nicholen’s face was turning more stormy than it had before. “And I’m supposed to believe that someone who so casually speaks of killing our… captain… is innocent of sabotaging this entire mission?”
“You always were so over-dramatic. Camlan’s well over what happened. Why can’t you get over it, too?”
Nicholen slammed a hand down on the table. Xaviara jumped, but Lianndra’s smirk merely widened. “Watch yourself!”
Xaviara was starting to wonder if she would need to hurry down there and break up a fist fight when Nicholen leapt from his seat.
“That’s it. I’m going,” he said. “I will find out what you did, Lianndra. I will find it out, and I will finally have what I need to prove to Camlan that you’re a lying jixxis, like you were all those years ago.”
“Little ol’ me knows nothing about engineering. Besides, this is a good gig. Why would I want to ruin something that’s working for me?”
Nicholen clenched a fist. “I’ll figure out who did it. And I’ll make them pay.”
“See that you do. Despite all that, I am rather fond of Camlan. I was just never a one-man girl.” She was studying her fingernails now.
With a huff, Nicholen marched from the mess hall.