"Before you ask, it was confiscated from a patrol officer who was reading it behind the barracks. He has been reprimanded. The reprimand was theatrical and insincere, because I had already read it myself."
Matt Cross, Beta of Darkhowler, tossed a periodical on Garrett Darkhowler's desk.
"You're joking, Cross." Garrett looked at the cover. The Knotty Omega. The title was printed in gold ink that managed to be both cheap and confident, which was, frankly, on brand.
"I'm bringing you intelligence that happens to be formatted as gossip." Cross lowered himself into the chair across the desk with the deliberate ease of a man who understood that how you sat communicated as much as what you said. "There is a difference, and the difference matters. The courts of Skardos run on three currencies: gold, favors, and perception. You can stockpile the first two and still be ruined by the third."
Garrett leaned back. "And the Knotty Omega shapes perception."
