“It’s reckless,” he fires back.
“It’s necessary.”
“For her,” he says, quieter now, more pointed.
“Yes.”
The word lands clean.
Final.
Vihl stares at me, something shifting behind his eyes as he processes that.
“You’re choosing her over everything,” he says.
“I’m choosing the outcome,” I reply.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is to me.”
He exhales slowly, turning away for a moment before pacing once, then stopping again.
“Alright,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Then walk me through it.”
“I already have.”
“Then walk me through it out loud,” he snaps, turning back. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re about to burn everything you built for someone who just left.”
“She didn’t leave me,” I say.
Vihl’s brow tightens.
“She got on a shuttle and flew out of your hangar,” he says. “What exactly would you call that?”
“I’d call it a move,” I reply.
“A move straight into Combine hands,” he counters.
“A move that removes leverage from them,” I correct.
He frowns, processing that.
“Explain it,” he says.
“If she surrenders on her own terms,” I say, stepping closer, my voice lowering as the logic sharpens, “they lose the narrative of extraction. They don’t get to claim we’re holding her.”
“They’ll spin it anyway,” Vihl says.
“They’ll try,” I agree. “But it fractures their position.”
He considers that, then exhales.
“Even if that’s true,” he says, quieter now, “it doesn’t change where she’s going.”
“And that’s where I intercept.”
He looks at me again, longer this time.
