After Mia had talked her through some basic first aid, to make certain that Rene was stabilized and in no real medical danger, they had come to the conclusion it was impossible for Solae to physically drag the soldier to the captain's quarters. She simply did not have the strength to support his weight. With no other options she put a pillow under his head, covered with him with a blanket, and tried to make him as comfortable was feasible. There were stimulants that could have brought him back to consciousness by force but the marquise decided against utilizing them. It was better for Rene to rest. There was little doubt they would have further opportunities after landing on Zatis and beyond to put such pharmaceuticals to better use. Traveling through space was not an emergency that merited forcing him out of repose.

"All right, Mia, let's get back to work," she said after she was finally satisfied with Rene's arrangement. The noblewoman had pulled a cheap metal chair from one of the other rooms on the ship. It was the only one she could locate that was neither broken nor bolted to the floor, but it was wildly uncomfortable and the legs were slightly uneven. Their furniture could certainly stand to be upgraded.

"Would you like me to keep running the same analyses?" Mia purred as Solae scrolled through a listing of the compressed files she had downloaded at the communications center.

"Yes, I have some manual searches I want to do independently," she murmured as she selected a data set and pulled her pen and scrap paper closer to her. It was an archaic way of taking notes, especially by aristocratic standards, but she knew it would help her focus and create a better mental map of the information they had.

"Mia, I'd like all our analyses and conclusions to be accessible by only myself," Solae said as she started to scribble down some shorthand. Instead of delving into the Chastain's family history she was digging into her own. The last matriarch and patriarch of the Falia family had connections, secrets, and resources at their disposal, but they hadn't prepared her to assume all the responsibilities she had as a future leader quite yet. If Solae hoped to realize herself as heir without the luxury of someone on Capella that could hand her all the documentation in their wills, she'd have to search for what she needed herself.

"Only you, Lady Solae?" Mia asked with her seductive undertone suspiciously absent. This abnormal request seemed to have short-circuited her sultry vocal subroutine.

"Yes, only me, Mia." Solae sighed and leaned back in her chair, glancing back at Rene where he lay on the floor so peacefully. In truth this was a reprieve from the heavy tax reality had on psyche- even if passing out like he had was one of the worst ways to earn such a respite. "I don't expect you to fully understand, Mia, but I blame myself for Rene being in this state. I should have tempered myself and chosen a better time to deliver the news to him. Right now I don't think that... that it's right to ask him to shoulder the burden of this investigation, not until I'm sure it won't bring him harm like this. Our findings at least for now should be inaccessible to him."

"Lady Solae," the artificial intelligence began to protest, "Am I to deny access to the gathered data itself? What you downloaded was largely public information, correct?"

"Yes, it was. No, it would be wrong to try to prevent Rene from reading whatever articles and press releases he wishes. I know this is unusual Mia, but I don't intend to keep these things from Rene forever. There's no sense in having him upset, though, over preliminary findings. Once we have more concrete results, that I am relatively certain are factually accurate, then I'll broach the topic with him. Do you understand."

"Yes, Lady Solae," Mia said with a synthesized sigh of resignation. Solae couldn't help but smile. It was clear that the program's loyalty lay with her for whatever reason, and deferred to her over her fiance, but it was undeniable that Rene was only second to Rene and no other. If life ever favored her with a family she could imagine a highly modified Mia (to not sound so inappropriate) showing the same favoritism to her future children. Lord Armon might be dead but with his death he had given his ex-beau a truly precious gift.

Hours passed in silence save for the scratching of an antiquated pen on mismatched pieces of parchment. As Solae studied, alternating between the subjects of the du Quentains, Chastains, and Falias, she had tacked notes around the hold. All of it was in abbreviated shorthand, with half-formulated theories unintentionally made cryptic by her methodology, and almost all of them with enigmatic numbers that corresponded to each other, sums of money, trade contracts, or other such things- though none were labeled. It was utter nonsense to anyone except Solae and perhaps someone patient enough to spend time decoding.

More than once she had dozed off for a few moments and then woken. Sometimes it was the sensation of gravity pulling her down that made her bolt upright, sometimes it was the sheer discomfort of her unforgiving chair, sometimes it was the panic that seizes many people right before they drift off, but no singular serenade had been successful. She was on her third cup of coffee when she started to realize that the answers she desperately wanted to be hidden in these monotonous texts would not be found. It was not her lack of effort that stymied her; she had pieces of the puzzle, but not enough to complete it. This was the figurative outer rim but she would have to gather many more pieces. What was doubly frustrating is she knew that they would not be easily obtained.

People she wanted to seek out were not in this sector. Places she wanted to visit were several jumps away and not anywhere convenient to the PEA they sought. They were fugitives running from Duke Tan without an army to protect them, without the security that money could give them (as it was hard to seek out a bank or her inheritance just yet), and without the luxury of the imperial archives. Solae had very good clearance as a marquise, but she was not a duke or duchess, and she was not a handmaiden, so she would have limits in the best of environments. Only the empress herself could change that- and there was no guarantee how much reward she'd be given at the end of their adventure, assuming they survived.

Solae groaned to herself silently, leaned forward, and rested her forehead on her makeshift writing desk.