"Yes, sir. Do you want me to have her paged?"
"Don't bother." Medart grinned. "If I know our Sunbeam, she's found Losinj a cabin and taken her to Mess Three. I could use something to eat myself, so I'll go get her."
Medart spotted Yamata and his new assistant almost as soon as he entered Mess Three. Spotted where they must be sitting, rather; that noisy group on the far side of the room. He punched in his order— coffee and an egg salad sandwich—and when it slid from the dispenser, took it over to stand on the outskirts of the group.
"—like it's something you'd do every day before lunch!" a young Marine Lieutenant was saying. "Dig out a plot, escape from three cops, fight an assassin, then say it was nothing. That's incredible!"
So they'd succeeded in worming part of the story out of her, Medart thought. Just the basics, most likely, so they'd let her eat, and there was no harm in that; everyone would find out soon enough.
"You can't shrug it off that lightly, 'Rina," someone else said. "That'd get one of us a medal. Should get you a knighthood, maybe a Life Nobility."
Then Sunbeam spoke up, almost laughing. "Take it easy! Can't you see you're embarrassing her terribly?"
"Well, she should," the other retorted. "If I had enough rank, I'd call a Tribunal right now, and knight her."
Not a bad idea at all, Medart thought. It probably would be best, considering Greggson's attitude, for her to have that formal status when she met with the Command Crew. The man's competence as Security Chief couldn't be questioned, but Medart wondered at times how he'd ever passed the psych tests to become an Imperial officer, with his near-xenophobia. Hmm, this was getting interesting—the anonymous young officer was going through with it, speaking the formula of knighthood as solemnly as if this were indeed a real Tribunal. All Medart could see of the Irschchan was her eartips, erect and quivering as her admirer finished on a note of triumph: "—and do name you, Corina Losinj of Irschcha, a Knight of the Empire!"