"He's pretty cute," is Jedao's assessment, although the indulgent warmth of it is mostly for Quentin. Then he swallows, struggles to nudge Quentin off enough to get his own comm out of his pocket.

"Hang on, I want to show you -"

He brings up a still - it was an awful fucking memory, but it doesn't matter if he doesn't play it. There's a heavyset women in the Kel uniform, with greying hair and a shockingly pale scar across part of her round, dark face. She's got her arms folded and an unimpressed expression; she and Jedao are standing in some kind of terribly fancy bathroom, with a gun on the counter.

It plucks the breath out of him again, every time. There she is.

"That's. Colonel Kel Gized. She was my Chief of Staff for a decade."

She was my best friend, says Jedao's entirely familiar expression, whom I was in love with.