>>5949820You guessed correctly once. It's unlikely you can make it twice. Still, you should pretend to rub your chin in thought, “Hmm, I had a few ideas before coming. But now that I'm here? I don't know. What would you suggest?”
Awkward silence ensues. Like a lost fly, your eyes wander about the room before finally settling on the picture frames. “Uh, about the paintings...” Seeing your valiant attempt to change the subject, Tim follows gingerly, “Oh, the paintings.” His eyes narrow in mischievousness, “Forgive me if I sound like a gatekeeper testing your cultural capital, but I'm genuinely just curious. Can you tell me what you think about them?”
Cultural capital? What did he mean by that? “Well they look old, and pretty, and maybe French, I guess? No, definitely French, only they dressed themselves like that in this day and age.” Remembering Jean-Pierre's wrist-long sleeves from your first meeting, you unconsciously blush. “Maybe everyone has reasons to cover himself so.” You hastily add, half to yourself.
“I think I know who you are referring to.” Huh? “Commander de Tassigny, right?” He clears his throat. “Well there are plenty rumours about that. It may be best to ask him yourself. No, that's not the best. The best that we can hope is to never meet him again.” And looks into the distance.
“How come? He's a good man. Maybe that spook is skewing your perception?” Smile stretching from ear to ear, Tim slowly shakes his head. “I hold nothing against the man himself. Indeed, anyone else with his abilities should be halfway to admiral by now. Yet de Tassigny is not. Do you want to know why?” He does not even wait for your answer.
“Bad luck, bad friends,” he reflexively lowers his voice, “bad habits. Whatever the reason, Death and Debris trailed him like two loyal dogs their hunter. As far as I know, his service record is spotless, yet somehow I have the feeling that the Directorate almost never came off-” Tim bites his own tongue, suddenly self-conscious of his gossiping. “Bad manners to speak ill of a fellow officer. But in my capacity as your subordinate, the warning stands.”
You know better than to try prying Tim's mouth for more juicy intel. Even so, that he unconsciously lowered his guard like so is an encouraging sign. You smile sheepishly, “Now that my little distraction bought you some precious time, have you come up with any bright idea for this evening yet?” He returns your smile while rummaging through a drawer, “Yes, actually. How would you like some go?”
