"My third," he says immediately, and there's... there's a lot there, if she's looking. If she wants to see it. Pain, guilt, anger. The rough edges of a man not quite whole yet, whatever the Admiral might say about it.

"Jacobi is my partner. Maxwell." A pause. "Doctor. Alana Maxwell. Was our third." A breath in. "She died..." a hard swallow, "because I wasn't aware of something. A factor I- I could have known. But didn't realize I should even check" But that's- that's too close to- "and I made the wrong call. I don't talk about her? Because... I don't... "

He swallows again, just as hard.

"I don't have the right. Not until. Not until she's here to say so."