"Cam and the others were careful," Harrow says, looking at Gideon again, making herself focus on the brewed-tea color of her eyes. As punishments go, it's a weak one, barely enough to count, but there's still enough of an ache that settles in Harrow's heart to make it feel worthy. "They never shared her name, never gave up any details aside from those absolutely necessary. Not that I was in any shape to retain the information, had it been given."

Another memory scratches at the edge of her thoughts, a remembrance of too much food and too many toasts, glasses raised to Commander...someone. She can't grasp the details of it, not in full. It may not matter, anyway.