"Jacobi," he says honestly, because he's made no secret of that. He's had that secret splashed all over the Barge more than once, and he knows there's records of some of it. He told her full disclosure. He meant it. Even if he knows Jacobi won't be happy with him.
This is the opposite of need to know. If Jacobi had complaints? He was welcome to stow them.
"Because he thought? I'd betrayed her. That I didn't care. That she didn't mean..." he swallows in earnest, "that she wasn't a part of me. That I threw her away. Part of that? Is on me. Another part is..."
He pauses.
"We... deal with things. Differently. My response to failure is... to sharpen my blades. Buckle down. Work harder. I put my feelings aside. I'm not-" he swallows again, because he's never had to put these things into words, not even with Iris, "I'm not allowed them. when I make a mistake. Because they're a luxury. One I wouldn't allow myself until I accomplished my mission. Made her death mean something. Or... found a solution to it."
He'd absolutely considered trying to bargain with the Listeners, the aliens who liked making duplicates of people. Duplicates with the person's memories, their exact form, their exact everything. Who were convinced they were who they believed they were. After all, Lovelace was walking around, fit as a fiddle, after flying into a star. If Jacobi could work with her, maybe he would have adjusted to having a Maxwell in the same way. It was the best solution he'd had until he'd died and the Admiral had come knocking.
"That was actually an option, even before the Admiral. At least, sort of." He considers quietly, and then he'll tell her what he's really only told Iris.
"For me, the betrayal was... in not seeing. How much I care about him. How much I care about... her. I did. so much. They- they're everything to me. But saying things like that out loud." He looks up at her then. "It's- it doesn't feel safe." He swallows one last time. "But I thought he knew. I hope she did.
"I think she did. She was... one of the most brilliant people I've ever known."
no subject
This is the opposite of need to know. If Jacobi had complaints? He was welcome to stow them.
"Because he thought? I'd betrayed her. That I didn't care. That she didn't mean..." he swallows in earnest, "that she wasn't a part of me. That I threw her away. Part of that? Is on me. Another part is..."
He pauses.
"We... deal with things. Differently. My response to failure is... to sharpen my blades. Buckle down. Work harder. I put my feelings aside. I'm not-" he swallows again, because he's never had to put these things into words, not even with Iris, "I'm not allowed them. when I make a mistake. Because they're a luxury. One I wouldn't allow myself until I accomplished my mission. Made her death mean something. Or... found a solution to it."
He'd absolutely considered trying to bargain with the Listeners, the aliens who liked making duplicates of people. Duplicates with the person's memories, their exact form, their exact everything. Who were convinced they were who they believed they were. After all, Lovelace was walking around, fit as a fiddle, after flying into a star. If Jacobi could work with her, maybe he would have adjusted to having a Maxwell in the same way. It was the best solution he'd had until he'd died and the Admiral had come knocking.
"That was actually an option, even before the Admiral. At least, sort of." He considers quietly, and then he'll tell her what he's really only told Iris.
"For me, the betrayal was... in not seeing. How much I care about him. How much I care about... her. I did. so much. They- they're everything to me. But saying things like that out loud." He looks up at her then. "It's- it doesn't feel safe." He swallows one last time. "But I thought he knew. I hope she did.
"I think she did. She was... one of the most brilliant people I've ever known."