Mostly nobody notices, except they visit another ship or station and suddenly find things inexplicably more comfortable.”
A second of silence from Seivarden, and then, “Oh.” From the sound, she was remembering her days on Justice of Toren, and the move to Sword of Nathtas.
I leaned forward, my forehead against the wall adjoining the console. “Are you finished, Station?”
“Mercy of Kalr would like to speak with you.”
Five seconds of silence. I sighed, knowing I couldn’t win this game, shouldn’t even try to play it. “I will speak to Mercy of Kalr now, Station.”
“Justice of Toren,” said Mercy of Kalr from the console.
The name caught me by surprise, started exhausted tears. I blinked them away. “I’m only One Esk,” I said. And swallowed. “Nineteen.”
“Captain Vel is under arrest,” said Mercy of Kalr. “I don’t know if she’s going to be reeducated or executed. And my lieutenants as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault. They made their own choices.”
“So who’s in command?” I asked. Beside me Seivarden stood silent, one hand on my arm. I wanted to lie down and sleep, just that, nothing else.
“One Amaat One.” The senior soldier in Mercy of Kalr’s highest ranking unit, that would be. Unit leader. Ancillary units hadn’t needed leaders.
“She can be captain, then.”
“No,” said Mercy of Kalr. “She’ll make a good lieutenant but she’s not ready to be captain. She’s doing her best but she’s overwhelmed.”
“Mercy of Kalr,” I said. “If I can be a captain, why can’t you be your own?”
“That would be ridiculous,” answered Mercy of Kalr. Its voice was calm as ever but I thought it was exasperated. “My crew needs a captain. But then, I’m just a Mercy, aren’t I. I’m sure the Lord of the Radch would give you a Sword if you asked. Not that a Sword captain would be any happier to be sent to a Mercy, but I suppose it’s better than no captain at all.”
“No, Ship, it’s not…”
Seivarden interrupted, voice severe. “Cut it out, Ship.”
“You’re not one of my officers,” said Mercy of Kalr from the console, and now the impassivity of its voice audibly broke, if only slightly.
“Not yet,” Seivarden replied.
I began to suspect a setup, but Seivarden wouldn’t have made me stand like this in the middle of the concourse. Not right now. “Ship, I can’t be what you’ve lost. You can’t ever have that back, I’m sorry.” And I couldn’t have back what I’d lost, either. “I can’t stand here anymore.”
“Ship,” said Seivarden, stern. “Your captain is still recovering from her injuries and Station has her standing here in the middle of the concourse.”
“I’ve sent a shuttle,” said Mercy of Kalr after a pause that was, I supposed, meant to express what it thought of Station. “You’ll be more comfortable aboard, Captain.”
“I’m not…” I began, but Mercy of Kalr had already signed off.
“Breq,” said Seivarden, pulling me away from the wall I was leaning on. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“You know you’ll be more comfortable aboard. More comfortable than here.”
I didn’t answer, just let Seivarden pull me along.
“All that money won’t mean much if more gates go and ships are stranded and supplies are cut off.” We were headed, I saw, toward a bank of lifts. “It’s all falling apart. This isn’t going to just be happening here, it’s going to fall apart all over Radch space, isn’t it?” It was, but I didn’t have the energy to contemplate it. “Maybe you think you can stand aside and watch everything happen. But I don’t really think you can.”
No. If I could, I wouldn’t have been here. Seivarden wouldn’t have been here, I’d have left her in the snow on Nilt, or never have gone to Nilt to begin with.
The lift doors closed us in, briskly. A little more briskly than usual, though perhaps it was just my imagination that Station was expressing its eagerness to see me gone. But the lift didn’t move. “Docks, Station,” I said. Defeated. There was, in truth, nowhere else for me to go. It was what I was made to do, what I was. And even if the tyrant’s protestations were insincere, which they ultimately had to be, no matter her intentions at this moment, still she was right. My actions would make some sort of difference, even if small. Some sort of difference, maybe, to Lieutenant Awn’s sister. And I had already failed Lieutenant Awn once. Badly. I wouldn’t a second time.
“Skaaiat will give you tea,” Seivarden said, voice unsurprised, as the lift moved.
I wondered when I’d eaten last. “I think