“As in—suicide mission?”
She swallowed back bile. “Yeah.”
“Sounds great,” he said pleasantly. He glanced at Mesa, and his tone fell serious. “I mean, yes, sir. Understood, sir.”
“Okay. Then you’re with us,” Adequin agreed. “But get the gate back on first, and make sure Eura or someone else feels comfortable piloting the Synthesis.”
He saluted. “Yes, sir.”
“Jack?”
“Boss.”
“Take Cavalon and Mesa and however many others you need to unload the supplies off the Synthesis and onto the SGL.”
“You got it,” Jackin said.
“Why not just take the Synthesis ourselves?” Griffith asked. “It’s already loaded up with everything we need.”
Adequin shook her head. “We can’t—we need to leave them a vessel that’s safe to take through the gate, in case we…” She swallowed. “In case we don’t make it back in time.”
Griffith’s brow furrowed, and he gave a short nod. Jackin patted him on the back, then gripped Cavalon’s shoulder and led him out of the control room. Mesa, Puck, Emery, and Warner followed.
Griffith waited for the others to disappear around the corner, then turned to face her. “I’m proud of you, Quin.”
“Why?”
“You all but told Lugen to go fuck himself.”
She let out a pained laugh. “Yeah, I’m really screwed this time.”
“Nah, Mo’acair,” he said, warm eyes glistening. “You’re better than ever.”
She pushed up on her toes and kissed him.
Griffith winced, cradling his rib cage with one arm.
“Void,” she said. “I’m sorry. You need more apexidone?”
“No, I’ll be fine. You know there’s such a thing as being too apologetic? Especially when it’s for things that aren’t your fault.”
“I mean, your whole situation is objectively my fault,” she said. “I asked you to captain the Tempus to begin with, and I insisted you go on one last trip. Not to mention you’re stationed out here to start with because of what I did.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, seeming honestly confused.
“You were sent to the Divide because of what I did.”
He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. I asked to be stationed here.”
She stared, unblinking. “You asked?”
“Of course.”
Her chest warmed, but with it came a tinge of anger. All she could manage in response was a feeble, “Why would you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want to be a hundred million light-years away from you.”
“But you’re here, now, like this,” she said, her voice fervent. “You could be safe at some boring post in the Core.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You think I’d be happy at some boring post in the Core?”
“Well, no,” she muttered. “But here? Why?”
“Because I love you, Quin.”
She stared at him, unblinking, completely unsure of what to say. She’d known it for so long, voicing it almost seemed superfluous. Yet something about actually hearing the words come out of his mouth consoled her. Validated something she’d hid—even from herself—for so long. Griffith loved her.