I was part of the team, just never a Ranger." Would things have been different if you were? Perhaps.
"And what kind of sage advice do you have for me then?" The mockery in Lady Argent's voice is hard to miss, but you pretend you didn't notice.
"Trust someone. Trust your team. If they don't have your back, nobody will."
"Huh." She gives you a curious look. "Why do you care?"
"Because you're gonna get people I care about killed." The words slip out before you can stop them. Where did that come from? Her getting people killed? The chances are that will be on your shoulders in the end, not hers. Is that why you're mad at her?
"Ortega can take care of himself." Lady Argent's words are dismissive, and for once, you're glad for her abrasiveness. Easier to focus on than your own messed-up motivations.
"Really? Has he been looking very relaxed recently?"
"That's not on me," she shrugs.
"Oh, trust me, you're part of it. He knows you're keeping secrets. It bothers him."
"Or it bothers you."
"It does," you admit.
"You don't even have the security classification to know my shoe size."
"You're not military." You tilt your head as you look her over, pleased to see that she's the uncomfortable one now.
"How would you know?" Her eyes have gone narrow and sharp.
"If you were, Steel wouldn't be so tense."
"He's not." But she doesn't look as sure as she sounds.
"If there's something I know intimately, it's how Steel acts around someone he doesn't trust completely. He's got his eyes on you. Don't know why, but there must be someth—" you can see her move, she telegraphs it a mile away. She's going for your throat.