Cavalon managed a feeble, “Uh, yeah. It was no problem.”
“I’m gonna go talk to the optio,” Griffith said, letting out a deep groan as he raised himself up from the table. He reached out a thick hand toward Cavalon. “Thanks again, doc.”
“Yeah…” Cavalon shook Griffith’s hand, cringing as the man’s rugged, viselike grip crushed his fingers. From his grateful expression, it didn’t seem like Griffith meant it to be harsh. He more than likely just didn’t know his own strength.
Griffith nodded then turned away, disappearing into the cockpit. Moments later, Emery came out, glancing over her shoulder in curiosity before the door slid shut behind her. She sat across from Cavalon.
“He’s got some ‘things to say to Jackin,’” Emery said, lowering her voice to imitate Griffith’s baritone rumble. “Whaddya suppose that’s all about?”
Cavalon stretched his crushed hand and rubbed his palm. “No idea.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Wanna find out?”
He blinked at her. “What?”
She held out her tattooed wrist, encircled by a thin, black, Legion-issue nexus band. One she certainly did not have before.
“I got sicka not bein’ told what the fuck’s goin’ on,” she explained. “So I stole a nexus from Kharon. And I may have taken the liberty of hacking into ship comms.” She flashed a grin. “We can listen in.”
“No,” Cavalon said, giving a fervent shake of his head. “No, no. No. That’s not shit-cutting.”
Her face scrunched with annoyed skepticism. “What’s with you and this shit-cutting thing?” she asked as she blatantly ignored his response and opened the comms panel on the nexus.
She pushed out of her chair and slid onto the bench next to him. Cavalon buried his face in his hands.
Emery tuned her nexus to the hacked channel, dialing down the volume as Griffith’s voice crackled through. “—the Rake you know is by the books, but that’s not who she really is.”
“You don’t know that,” Jackin said, his quiet words difficult to make out over the constant buzz of background static. “People change, Bach.”
“You saw it back at the Tempus, what she was willing to risk. Literally none of that was by the book. Case in point—look at what we’re doing right-the-fuck now. This definitely isn’t handbook procedure. And the more that’s put on her, the more she’ll fall back on that instinct.”
Jackin sighed.
“She’d never admit it,” Griffith went on, “but she needs balance. And she’ll need it more than ever moving forward. Be the pessimism to her blind optimism, and you’ll come out neutral.”
“Bach…”
“Are you gonna force me to make it my dying wish, North? All I’m asking is that you stick by her. Help her survive this—and when I say her, you know I mean just that.”
“Void,” Jackin grumbled. “How can you ask me to prioritize one life over another, even hers? That’s pretty harsh.”
“Shouldn’t it be? The Legion abandoned us, Lugen’s radio silent, and we’re being systematically replaced by mind-controlled clones. Harsh is where we’re at with this. And you think even if you survive, there’ll be a welcome parade back home? You know better than anyone what going back to the Core really means.”
Cavalon shifted uncomfortably on the padded bench as a chill washed down his spine. He picked at his fingernails while Emery stared at the nexus screen with focused interest, jaw slackened.
“You’ve had to take huge risks in your career,” Griffith continued. “More than most. She’s gonna need that experience on her side.” He remained quiet for a few long moments, then mumbled, “Void. That kid has no idea, does he?”