No laughter? No witty retort? That is new. But then, it's been years. He can't expect even York to be dependable and stay the same. He wonders how much it eats York up inside, what had happened. If the nights are as bad as Wash has them sometimes or if he manages to pretend that he's fine. He'd always been good at that, being fine.

Wash nods and slides his helmet back on, feeling immediately better when it does. It's easy to deceive the warring parties here. They never knew him. But York is different. He knew Wash better than probably anyone back in Freelancer. It's worrying.

"Sounds good," Wash says. I'll scout the area, check we're clean then call in. Let them know we're coming."

Let Carolina know what a fucking mess this was becoming.