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“He did not work on the regulator. He delivered seals.”

Kesta paused long enough to look at him. “Replacement seals?”

“Yes.”

“Where did they come from?”

Rell’s translucent eyelids flickered. “Trade.”

“That wasn't my question.”

His lower pair of hands tightened again.

Dreven started to speak.

Kesta looked at him.

He closed his mouth.

That pleased her more than it should have.

Rell finally said, “They were clean.”

Kesta glanced toward Sera at the next treatment station. The older healer heard the word and looked over.

On Kharon-Veil, clean had a specific meaning.

Not repaired.

Not salvaged.

New.

Kesta finished closing the wound and covered it with a sterile strip before stepping back.

“New components on a condemned planet with no official supply chain.”

Rell flexed the repaired hand, carefully this time. “Daro said Red Basin found a sealed cache.”

“Where?”

“He didn't say.”

Dreven’s gaze met Kesta’s across the treatment table.

Horan’s implant.

The field equipment appearing where none should exist.

New seals delivered to a failing condenser days before Kesta’s transport arrived.

Separate details were beginning to develop an unpleasant tendency to point in the same direction.

Rell slid off the treatment platform.

Kesta caught his good wrist before he could leave.

“Keep that dry for one full cycle.”