He found Corven later that same evening, alone in the cockpit, nursing a drink he wasn't actually drinking, staring out at the passing stars with an expression Rohan had learned, over their weeks together, meant the man was somewhere considerably further away in his own thoughts than the cramped cockpit around him.
"You've been quieter than usual," Rohan said, settling into the seat beside him. "Since we left the Anchorage."
Corven was quiet a long moment before answering, turning his glass slowly between weathered fingers.
"Told you once, back on that mining platform, that I had a life closer to the Cradle Reach before circumstances changed it," he said finally. "Never told you the specifics. Figured you had enough of your own weight to carry without adding mine to it."
"You don't have to tell me now either," Rohan said. "Not if you'd rather not."
"I know." Corven set his glass down, meeting Rohan's gaze with an unusual, deliberate openness.
