"Mm, it would be just our luck if this was the one time they didn't forget," Arche observes a little absently, still squinting down at the paper. He stops to take a generous sip of booze-spiked tea as he reaches over for a pencil.

"Well -- I've certainly had worse on this rock."

He notes his opinion wryly as he starts to scribble, scratching out some more of those unfamiliar glyphs beneath Tamaiu's writing with a thoughtful frown.

('Spiking' goes unexplained for now; the vagaries of these quartz translators are just impossible to work through sometimes. What he wouldn't give for just one protocol droid hanging around.)

"I think I can manage, though, it's short enough. But... if I have this correctly... No, let me look at it again, maybe I've read it wrong. It's only that it doesn't quite make sense. Or perhaps she was doing her best to be cryptic, since she's obviously concerned about whose eyes this reaches."

He underlines some of the glyphs he's written, frowns at them, draws a few arrows back and forth before finally reciting slowly:

"The man you trust...was...six years...not among us. That seems about right, I think, or the best I can figure. I can only hope it makes a lick of sense through three different layers of translation," he observes in that wry drawl.