Tammy opens his bright eyes. “That was a good one!” He’s sweating a bit, and his face is flush. “Again?”

Avi looks down at him with a smile, “as much as I’d love listening to this song on repeat for the fifth hour in a row, someone knocked on the door.”

“Oh?” He looks over his shoulder to the wood door of their cabin. “Weird, I didn’t hear it.” Now that the music has stopped, the person knocks on the door again.

“Crazy,” she says dryly, “you’re usually so observant.”

Avi drops her violin on the bed while Tammy climbs the chair and rests his inside the case.

They head to the door together, but Tammy stands back as Avi opens it. Her tail is safely tucked under her skirt, but she’s ready to stab if necessary. Standing before her is a refined-looking girl in a black and white maid dress with a long skirt, and tufts of red hair slipping out from underneath her headdress. She stands with perfect posture, and has her gloved hands folded in front of her lower stomach. In the air-conditioned ship, she looks comfortable.

“Oh, it’s the slave girl,” Avi says, looking up at her.

“Maid.” She corrects sternly. She looks past Avi to Tammy, then nods her head, “Mister Samuel Barabba, I was instructed to meet with you and practice for the performance during the voyage. I apologize for the lateness; I heard your music through the door and did not wish to interrupt.”

“Welc-!”

Avi reaches back to cover his mouth. “First, our last name is Parabba. With a P.”

“I apologize for mishearing.”

Avi nods, then releases her husband’s mouth. “Welcome!” He continues. “I was just playing with my wife here, helping her practice and such. So please, come in, it’s not too late at all.”

The maid nods and walks in. The skirt of her dress has metal underwire to keep its shape, and she’s trained to take quick, shallow steps that don’t disturb the fabric, creating the illusion of gliding across the floor. “I did not realize you two were married. Is that customary where you’re from?”

Avi frowns, but Tammy speaks without skipping a beat. He puts on his best, cutest, most innocent voice, “sure is! Maybe. My big sister is the best person in the world, and she already accepted that she’d marry me when we’re older!”

The maid cracks a small smile. “Ahh, so it’s like that?” She walks to Tammy’s violin, tall enough to look without stepping on the chair. “Better hurry up. My little brother said the same to me but never got the chance.”

Tammy recoils, “I’m… sorry to hear that.”

She nods with no change to her expression, sliding a finger across the wooden neck of Tammy’s violin. “You said this instrument is called a violin?”

“It is!” Tammy perks and rushes over, hopping on the chair so he’s level with the maid. “Our parents bought it for me in some time ago in a black-market stall. The poor guy had no idea what he had, so we bought it for a steal.”

“I see.” She glances over to the stand and walks over. Her eyes scan the page, and she recognizes it as a music sheet. “Is this what I heard outside?”

“Yup. In the middle of helping Avi practice.”

“Avi… Hm, forgive me, but I never told you my name.” She turns to Tammy and puts a hand over her chest as she goes for a bow. “It is Catala.”

Tammy bows, “Samuel Parabba.”

Catala turns to Avi. Avi looks at her for a moment, lips pursed. “Avi Parabba.”

“If possible, may I hear you two play?”

“Uh-“

“Of course!” Tammy hurriedly scoops his violin out of the case and hops off the chair. “We might as well play this one, since we’ve been practicing all day.” He looks up at her, “ready, sis?”

“…” Avi gulps, then grabs her violin from the bed. She stands at Tammy’s side, “s-sure.” Her lips are pressed together tight, and she’s feeling hot in her cheeks. But nevertheless, she stums the first note.

Tammy plays normally, which is to say he’s the embodiment of perfection. Honied notes reverberate off the strings and are a treat to the ears, resonating deep in Catala’s heart. Contrasting this mastery is Avi, who skips notes, plays off key, loses herself more than once, and struggles to keep with Tammy’s pace. One particularly egregious note sees Avi’s violin produce some ungodly noise that resembles the death scream of a feral cat. Avi blushes the whole time, feeling Catala’s criticizing gaze.

Tammy gives a big finish to the final set of notes, giving the song a more triumphant ending than planned, just to impress Catala. “And voila!”

Catala claps elegantly, slapping the fingers of her right hand against her left palm. “Are you self-taught?”

“I am indeed. There’s a manual in the case which thankfully had pictures, and I could decipher what the songs were supposed to sound like.”

She nods, then glances to Avi, whose head is turned away. “Did you teach your sister?”

Avi sighs bitterly.

“I would say it’s more like we learned together and made up for each other’s deficiencies.”

“Have you heard her play from the sidelines?”

Tammy frowns but quickly recovers. “We’re more of a duet.”

Catala sits on the foot of the bed and pats the spot next to her. “You should listen to her perform.”

Tammy raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and climbs on the bed to sit next to her. There’s a heavy height difference as he’s only nine, yet she’s 14.

Avi puts the violin against her neck. She glances to Tammy, who sends her a smile and a thumbs up, then glances to Catala, whose face is stern and unreadable. Avi sends her a death glare, but for a girl that’s even served wine to the pernicious gurant, it elicits no reaction.

After a moment to steel her nerves, she begins.

Avi tries her best, but the tempo is off, multiple notes are wrong, the bow is consistently at the wrong angle, and her face is twisted in panic and confusion. Tammy covers his mouth with a hand but stays silent. The two-minute song takes around three to complete, and Avi hesitates to put her bow down, unsure if it’s truly over.

“Huh…”

“S-sorry, Tammy…”

“I think, Samuel,” Catala says carefully, “that you are a fantastic musician, but a poor teacher.”

“Y-yeah, maybe.” Tammy grips his chin to think but soon realizes that Avi is on the verge of frustrated tears, so he rushes in to hug her. Avi rests her chin on the top of his head. “Do you not like the violin?”

“I… like you.”

Tammy pulls back a little, his arms still behind her back as he looks up. “But is it not fun to practice and learn new songs?”

“I haven’t really, uh, learned any songs. So I wouldn’t know.”

“But why didn’t you say you were struggling so much?”

Catala steps forward, “if I may ask, why were you so upset at Samuel on the ramp earlier? You made a show of how he thinks you give poor performances, but you know you do.”

Avi doesn’t bother looking at her, her voice dull and without patience. “No, you may not ask.” She returns her focus to Tammy, keeping her voice soft and loving. “Well, what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Tammy, I know you have your heart set on us going to that orchestra thing together, but it turns out I suck so I can’t go’?”

Tammy frowns, “I would help you not suck so you can go. Avi, it’s pointless if I go to the orchestra without you.” Avi understands the dual meaning, which is that their long-term goal is to learn the violin so they can join the orchestra together, then help the tribe’s operation to assassinate the Planetary Governor.

“I think there’s really a limit to what you can do.” The hidden meaning: because Tammy can’t help her improve, he’ll have to get someone else from the tribe to help the assassination aspect.

Tammy shakes his head, “no, it has to be you. I won’t let you give up, and I won’t just throw up my hands and call you a lost cause.”

Avi smiles a little at that. “So… should we get started now? Actual practice?”

“Yes!”

Catala stands at their side. “Actually, it would be preferable if the two of us can practice, Samuel. We shall be performing on stage in front of discerning patrons. It won’t be easy to bring her up to the base level of quality required, and I would rather us not undertake extra difficulties.”

“Oh, uh…” Tammy absentmindedly bites the tip of his thumb, lost in thought.

Avi glares at Catala with wide eyes and snarls, but she remains unaffected by meaningless threats.

“Ah!” He pulls his thumb out of his mouth, “yes. That would be for the best.”

“T-Tammy!”

He turns to her. “She is right about there not being enough time for you to get as good at the violin as I know you can. We’ll just have to figure out something else for you to do while we’re performing.”

Avi sighs. She recognizes that that means ‘while we’re on stage, you’ll kill the admiral.’ “Very well, Tammy. We’ll practice some other time.” The assassination plan involves giving the retired admiral a serum which will cause a sudden heart attack several weeks from now, once they’re off the ship. The original plan, as recommended by Mr. Kashier, was to slip the serum into the ship’s water supply or in a food vat in the kitchen and kill everybody, but Tammy rejected the idea outright. He figured he’d come up with a new plan eventually but was so focused on the violin that he hadn’t thought about it. This new situation, playing with Catala, provides the opportunity for Avi to sneak the serum in the admiral’s meal while everyone is distracted by Tammy’s performance. It should be simple.

The two hug, then Avi puts away her violin while Tammy pairs off with Catala.

Avi closes the latches, then brings the violin case over to the table, getting out of their way. She watches the two talk. Tammy has that bright smile he always carries, though she can tell it’s genuine and not just a mask he’s wearing in front of the stranger. Catala clearly understands all the music theory that’s nonsense to Avi, and Tammy’s excited to finally speak with a peer. Catala, similarly, has the corners of her mouth curled up in a slight smile that Avi finds… disconcerting.

She puts a hand over her heart. “What is this… uneasiness I feel in my chest? Something is really wrong here. Was my tail exposed? Did she see through our words? Was it a stupid idea to draw attention to our name and say we’re Parabba’s? This is…” She shakes her head and sits in the chair, watching. All smiles and giggles over there, while Avi sits at the side of the room and rolls her fingertips over the wooden table.

There’s something about Catala that can’t be trusted.