One day, he reflects, he might well stop being unnerved when a superior thanks him for doing as he's told --

-- she says she's not your superior, he reminds himself, and nods, awkwardly. A whistle to Ci, and they're off.





By the time they're to meet, he's standing by the doors, armor impeccable, face impassive, hands clasped at parade rest. No mabari, though.