Geth growled. “Ekhaas told me that I didn’t understand honor.”
Singe’s eyebrows rose. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He turned away from Coron’s statue.
Singe caught his arm. “Geth, what happened here? You’re the only one who knows the whole story. I spent years hating you because I blamed you for a massacre.”
Geth shook off the wizard’s hand. “So did I,” he said.
Singe sighed. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” he asked.
Geth didn’t answer him.
Singe shook his head. “All right then.” He reached into a pocket, brought out a silver flask, and twisted the top off it. “To our friends,” he said, raising it. He drank and held the flask out.
Geth took it and raised it first to Singe, then to Coron’s statue. “To other people’s heroes,” he said.