With the extra time on your hands, you decide to head back up to the Ignis and poke around a bit. Once you load your dataslate with the schematics you pulled up earlier, you can find your way just about anywhere. Obviously, there are places you probably shouldn't go, like the weapons decks or the bilges, but that still leaves you with quite a list of destinations.
You catch the evening shuttle. The other passengers give you full deference to your rank, meaning you are the first to board and first to disembark. Canala is waiting for you on the disembarkation deck, along with the usual side-party of lieutenant and armsmen. You greet them all as the formalities require and then make for your quarters, Canala in tow. You exchange the usual pleasantries and begin to form a better appreciation of what kind of person your maid is. Of average height, mousy-haired and brown-eyed, she is somewhat demure, but rather persistent in seeing to your needs. From the way she behaved on your shopping trip yesterday, you know she can go full Yiddish Mother in the traditions of the Oasis colonists. As formidable as your will is, you have a hard time standing up to that kind of mothering, especially when Canala is only trying to get you to do something you should be doing anyway.
When you reach your quarters it is just about dinner time. You dismiss Canala and plug your dataslate into your terminal to start downloading the schematics. While you are still working your way through the ritual of data retrieval, she reappears with a tray of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and wine. You thank her, but turn your head to follow as she departs. You are startled by a cleverly concealed panel sliding open to reveal a pantry and galley, and beyond it presumably Canala's quarters. With the data transfer in progress, you decide to investigate a bit more. "Canala?"
The panel slides open again. "Yes Ma'am?"
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"How did you find that hatch?"
"Ma'am?"
"I didn't notice it when I came aboard, and I'm wondering what else I may have missed."
"Oh! Well, the hatch is rather clearly marked from my side Ma'am. There was a note about a broom closet, just beside your closet, but nothing else I'm aware of."
"Thank you Canala, that will be all."
"Yes Ma'am. If you require anything, just buzz." She vanishes again, the hatch closing silently behind her.
You stand up and start pacing back and forth. Someone wouldn't have had to force your door to get into your quarters, which means the 'failed' attempt to pick your lock might have been a fake. Or it might have been quite real, but Canala's lock might have been easier to pick. In either case, someone could have been inside your quarters. You decide to investigate.
The broom closet is reasonable easy to locate, once you know to look for it. Opening it reveals the expected stockpile of cleaning supplies, as well as a pair of emergency breath masks and void suits. They are not tailored to anyone's frame in particular, being intended for emergency use by anyone as needed. While their presence is comforting, more comforting is the absence of any listening or recording devices.
After finishing your dinner, you search the rest of your quarters anyway, working on the assumption that it is better to be thorough than sloppy. You find nothing, as expected, and relax somewhat. You were probably being just a bit paranoid, but with a half-decent reason at least, given the preacher that was following you to the bridge and the marks on your door.
You terminal dings out its 'job complete' chime, and you head over to check on your dataslate. Clean data transfer, though the memory of the slate is completely full, or close enough as to make no difference. You cycle its power after making sure the schematics are saved. It take a few minutes to turn on and open the file, which is not entirely surprising given its size. You pull up the list of facilities, musing over where you want to spend tomorrow before you have to head back groundside the following day.