Mireya looked at her.

"If the people who came back from that canyon were not Apollo and Veylor and a surviving expedition member," Aisella said, "but instead were Kregg and Virella and seven unnamed Legion members, and the people who didn’t come back were Apollo and Veylor, would you be having this conversation?"

Mireya was quiet.

The weight of Aisella’s words hung in the air, forcing Mireya to confront her own biases and fears. She took a deep breath, realizing that the truth of their situation was far more complex than she had initially believed.

Rex smiled tightly behind his stoic expression, knowing that Aisella could be trusted in this situation. She always spoke critically and analytically.

"Keep in mind that I’m not asking it as a trap," Aisella said. "I’m asking it because I think the answer tells us something about what the argument is actually about."

"The argument is about either the principle or the outcome."

"It’s about the principle," Mireya said. "The outcome being good doesn’t make the method acceptable."

"Yes, I do agree with that in general," Aisella said. "But still... I’m asking whether you’d be applying that principle with the same energy if the outcome had been different."

"I..." Mireya’s jaw tightened.

"Yes," she said. "I would."

"Then I respect that," Aisella said. "I disagree with your conclusion about what the principle requires in this specific situation, but I respect that you’re applying it consistently."

She paused.

"What I’m asking is for the same respect in the other direction. I’ve applied my own assessment consistently too."

"I looked at the situation, and I reached a different conclusion. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it."

"Apollo would disagree with you," Mireya said.

"Perhaps, but that doesn’t negate my perspective," Aisella replied, her tone firm yet measured. "We can both hold different views and still engage in a constructive dialogue."

Aisella looked down at her plate briefly. Talyra looked at Mireya with the expression of someone who has been waiting for a specific argument to arrive and is now addressing it.

"Apollo almost didn’t come back from that canyon," Talyra said. "With the ring on his designation and ten Legion members and his full activation suppressed."

"That’s the version of events that relies on trusting Apollo’s approach to the situation." She set her cup down. "I respect and trust Apollo. However, his approach would have resulted in a canyon with no survivors on our side—only theirs."

Mireya noticed that Talyra was defending Rex too hard. ’Are they siding with Rex...?’

"T-that’s not fair," Mireya said. "He didn’t have the information Rex had!"

"He was suppressed."

"Right," Talyra said. "He was suppressed because the Legion specifically designed their operation to handle people with Apollo’s capabilities."

"They had fourteen years of practice handling people with Apollo’s capabilities." She looked at Mireya steadily. "Rex is not Apollo. That’s why we’re here."

"Rex is not Apollo," Mireya said. "That’s exactly my point."

"I know it’s your point," Talyra said. "It’s also mine."

"Apollo would have tried to find the version of that canyon that ended with everyone alive and a moral record he could be proud of."

"Rex found the version that ended with our people alive." She paused. "I know which version I’m sitting inside right now."

"You’re making it sound like those are the only two options," Mireya said.

"I’m making it sound like those are the two options that were actually available in that canyon at that moment," Talyra said. "Theory has more options. Reality had two."

Nerith said, from her two-seat distance, "Apollo has qualities that Rex doesn’t have, and also... Rex has qualities that Apollo doesn’t have."

"Treating them as the same measure is going to produce the wrong answer either way." She expressed it in the manner typical of her deep-signal register, demonstrating the specific patience of someone who has reached a conclusion through a lengthy process and is now sharing that conclusion rather than the process itself.

"Apollo is the person you want when the situation needs hope and a reason to keep going, but Rex..." Nerith looked at Rex. "...is the person you want when the situation needs someone to do a thing that the situation requires and not be stopped by the weight of doing it."

She paused.

"We needed both today, and we had both. I don’t think it’s helpful to question why one of them operates differently than the other."

Mireya looked at her for a moment. Something in Nerith’s register had reached her in a different way than Talyra’s argument or Aisella’s question, and Rex noted this in the specific stillness that crossed Mireya’s expression.

"You’re all very certain about him," Mireya remarked, her tone softer than in her previous statements.

"Yes," Nerith said. "We are."

"That doesn’t concern any of you."

"It would concern me," Aisella said, "if the certainty came from somewhere apart from what we’ve actually seen... well... It doesn’t."

"It comes from three days of watching him work in conditions that test what a person actually is." She looked at Mireya with the steady warmth she brought to things she meant. "I know what it looks like when someone is performing reliably, and I also know what it looks like when someone is reliable."

"I’ve been doing healing work long enough to know the difference at close range." She paused. "Rex is reliable. Not due to his goodness as a person, but because reliability is inherent to his nature."

"This quality extends to those around him, and that’s what I’ve observed."

"I think," Mireya said, "that you’re all so relieved to be here and so grateful that something worked that you’re not looking at it clearly."

"Maybe," Aisella said. "Or maybe we’re looking at it from inside a category that you’re not in, and the view is different from there."

Elizabeth, who had been eating steadily throughout the conversation with the focused attention of someone who seemed to listen intently while concentrating on her food, finally set her fork down.

"I’m going to ask a practical question," she said. "Not a philosophical one."

Everyone looked at her.

"Do I need to conduct a further inquiry into Rex’s conduct on this expedition?" she said. "I’m asking the group. If you believe I do, indicate it by raising your hand."

She looked around the table.

Mireya raised her hand immediately.

No one else moved.

The silence that followed had a distinct quality. Mireya glanced at Aisella, who was focused on the table.

Then, Mireya turned to Talyra, who was looking at Elizabeth.

Next, Mireya observed Nerith, who was staring at her plate, where the leaves remained still, moving inward.

Iris, who had been present through the entire exchange without saying anything, set down her cup. She touched the bandaged area at her back briefly, a gesture so automatic she probably didn’t notice doing it.

"I was in the chamber when Kregg’s ring put Apollo on his knees," she said. "I was there when Virella put stone spurs through my back in three places."

She looked at Elizabeth, then at Mireya. "Rex came into a canyon with ten Legion members and came out with three people who would otherwise not be coming back."

Her voice was flat and certain. "That is my contribution to this discussion, and I think he has done what he had to do from my assassin’s perspective."

’Good shit...’ Rex approved Iris.

Aurelia had said nothing through any of it. She set her spoon down with the unhurried movement of someone who has decided something and is acting on it.

She glanced at Rex for a moment before turning her gaze to Mireya. When she finally spoke, her tone carried the weight of someone who had spent seventy-two hours in a cave contemplating the price of misplaced trust.

"I have a son who acts like Mireya, and he also has the same problem related to Rex, saying that he was in the wrong, but..." she said. "I’ve made that error before."

"Different circumstances, different consequences, but the shape was the same..."

"I applied a standard to someone who was about what I thought they should be rather than what they demonstrated they were." She glanced briefly at Rex and then returned her attention to the table. "What I watched today tells me which category applies here."

"I know the difference between someone who can be trusted with a situation and someone who can’t."

"Rex should be excused."

Rex was actually surprised to hear that answer, and in fact, he didn’t expect Aurelia to say it.

She paused, and her expression shifted to something that was neither grief nor resolution, but rather a blend of the two.

"I’m done writing off people who have demonstrated they’re worth trusting because they don’t match the shape I expected," she said.

’GOOD FUCKING SHIT INDEED!’

The table recognized the reference in Aurelia’s statement. Mireya glanced at Aurelia for a moment before shifting her gaze to the table and then to Rex.

Rex ate and said nothing, which was the correct contribution to make. ’Take that L...’

’Tonight... you are one hundred percent fucked!’

"One hand," Elizabeth said, addressing no one in particular, as she picked up her fork again. "This problem is concluded."

Elizabeth turned to Mireya. "You should remember that he was the one who saved your boyfriend from punishment after that incident when those innocent people were killed by his explosion."

That word stabbed Mireya through her heart. "I... yes... I understand..."

’OHHHHHHH~! BURNNEEEDDDD!’

’Elizabeth is so fucking peak for saying that shit... I’m really going to enjoy her soon after I finish fucking with this icy bitch.’

And then the dinner continued.