Vignette: Cold Hard Truths
What: Milani muses on the visit to Crom's holding cells.
Thud. The ledger hit the table in the Records Room and Milani flopped down in a chair in front of it with a heavy sigh. Slumping down, she stared up at the ceiling, idly noting spots that the cleaning crew needed to know about. One of the girl's feet kicked out under the table and with a restless jerk, she pulled her chair up to the table, leaning forward over the ledge she now opened with determined fingers.
The numbers lined up in front of her eyes, logical and straightforward and she ran each of the tallies against the mental one she had of the items that were actually in Stores. Quick fingers made the necessary corrections to further mask the extra intake that N'thei and A'son had been managing through the winter. One figure gave her pause and she chewed on the end of her pencil as she mulled it over, one hand lifting to support her forehead, fingers working their way into her hair.
The image of the holding cells at Crom swam across her vision blotting out the neat line of the ledger and her head bowed further. For anyone passing by, she was hard at work tallying. Nothing unusual. No one could see the sick feeling that was tossing the contents of her stomach around, or feel the sudden shortness in her breath as she thought back to the prison that held her friends. She'd never been in such a place before and she had to admit, it was pretty horrifying. Even if people she cared about weren't locked up in that awful place, the thought that anyone ever got stuck down there rattled her. It was one thing to vaguely realize that people got locked away for doing bad things, entirely another to actually see it happen, especially when the situation was far from clear cut.
Milani shifted restlessly in her chair and yanked the pins that fastened her braid to the back of her head, fingers rubbing along her scalp in an attempt to release the tension that was threatening to give her a headache. They had to get released, didn't they? The Weyrleaders would figure it out, take care of everything. And Amerie was right, the prisoners would be okay, they wouldn't dare to really hurt them, would they? Her arms folded down over the ledger and she buried her head in them, letting the misery get the better of her for the space of a few minutes. N'thei'd seemed okay, but A'son looked like he'd cracked or something, fighting with B'yan and the look he'd given her as they hauled him away made her quail. And where had Joe been? It's not like he really knew anything, right? Why would they bother with a kid? Adults were always saying she and Joe were just kids.
The assistant headwoman took a deep breath and pushed upright again, grabbing her pencil and frowning down at the ledger. She couldn't do much to help the prisoners. Who knew if she and Amerie would be able to get in to deliver anything again, but she /could/ make sure that the trail here was fully covered. Milani set to work, pushing all other thoughts firmly out of mind until she'd wrestled every column of the ledger into submission.
Thud. The ledger hit the table in the Records Room and Milani flopped down in a chair in front of it with a heavy sigh. Slumping down, she stared up at the ceiling, idly noting spots that the cleaning crew needed to know about. One of the girl's feet kicked out under the table and with a restless jerk, she pulled her chair up to the table, leaning forward over the ledge she now opened with determined fingers.
The numbers lined up in front of her eyes, logical and straightforward and she ran each of the tallies against the mental one she had of the items that were actually in Stores. Quick fingers made the necessary corrections to further mask the extra intake that N'thei and A'son had been managing through the winter. One figure gave her pause and she chewed on the end of her pencil as she mulled it over, one hand lifting to support her forehead, fingers working their way into her hair.
The image of the holding cells at Crom swam across her vision blotting out the neat line of the ledger and her head bowed further. For anyone passing by, she was hard at work tallying. Nothing unusual. No one could see the sick feeling that was tossing the contents of her stomach around, or feel the sudden shortness in her breath as she thought back to the prison that held her friends. She'd never been in such a place before and she had to admit, it was pretty horrifying. Even if people she cared about weren't locked up in that awful place, the thought that anyone ever got stuck down there rattled her. It was one thing to vaguely realize that people got locked away for doing bad things, entirely another to actually see it happen, especially when the situation was far from clear cut.
Milani shifted restlessly in her chair and yanked the pins that fastened her braid to the back of her head, fingers rubbing along her scalp in an attempt to release the tension that was threatening to give her a headache. They had to get released, didn't they? The Weyrleaders would figure it out, take care of everything. And Amerie was right, the prisoners would be okay, they wouldn't dare to really hurt them, would they? Her arms folded down over the ledger and she buried her head in them, letting the misery get the better of her for the space of a few minutes. N'thei'd seemed okay, but A'son looked like he'd cracked or something, fighting with B'yan and the look he'd given her as they hauled him away made her quail. And where had Joe been? It's not like he really knew anything, right? Why would they bother with a kid? Adults were always saying she and Joe were just kids.
The assistant headwoman took a deep breath and pushed upright again, grabbing her pencil and frowning down at the ledger. She couldn't do much to help the prisoners. Who knew if she and Amerie would be able to get in to deliver anything again, but she /could/ make sure that the trail here was fully covered. Milani set to work, pushing all other thoughts firmly out of mind until she'd wrestled every column of the ledger into submission.