Noah stood in the kitchen of their apartment, mechanically stirring coffee he didn't want while watching news coverage of OrionX's "personnel restructuring" on his tablet. The corporate euphemisms couldn't hide the reality: Eli had been publicly removed from the Saturn mission three days before the scheduled test launch of the pathfinder probe.
The media had pounced on the story with predatory enthusiasm. "OrionX Chief Engineer Suspended Amid Security Concerns." "Saturn Mission in Turmoil After Sabotage Attempt." "Is America's Most Ambitious Space Mission Falling Apart?"
None of the articles mentioned Eli by name—OrionX's legal team had been thorough about that—but the aerospace community was small enough that everyone knew. Noah's phone had been buzzing constantly with messages from friends, family, and journalists looking for inside information about the "crisis at OrionX."
The apartment felt different now, charged with the electricity of unfinished conversations and unspoken fears. Eli had been moving through the space like a ghost for the past three days, officially suspended but unofficially consumed with continuing his investigation into what he called "the Meridian connection."
"You need to eat something," Noah said when Eli emerged from the bedroom, already dressed in the dark jeans and hoodie that had become his uniform of enforced civilian life.
"I'm not hungry."
"You haven't been hungry for three days. Your body doesn't care about OrionX politics—it needs fuel."
Eli paused in the doorway, and Noah could see the weight of the past week settling on his shoulders like gravity. The man who had once moved through engineering problems with surgical precision now looked uncertain, unmoored.
"They're going to proceed with the pathfinder launch," Eli said quietly. "Milo's team finished the final system checks yesterday. Everything looks nominal."
"That's good, isn't it? If the pathfinder succeeds, it validates your work on the navigation systems."
"Or it proves that Emory's sabotage wasn't the real threat." Eli moved to the window, looking out at the California morning with eyes that seemed to be calculating orbital mechanics. "Noah, what if I'm wrong? What if my investigation into Meridian has made me paranoid? What if I destroyed my career chasing shadows?"
Noah set down his coffee and crossed to where Eli stood. In the morning light, he could see the exhaustion etched around his partner's eyes, the physical toll of sleepless nights spent reviewing classified documents and building conspiracy theories.
"You're not paranoid," Noah said firmly. "I've watched you work for two years. I've seen how your mind processes information, how you solve problems that other people can't even comprehend. If you think there's a connection between Meridian and the current mission, then there probably is."
"But what if—"
"Eli." Noah placed his hands on his partner's shoulders, feeling the tension coiled there like spring steel. "What if you're right? What if there really is someone within OrionX who has the power and motivation to sabotage missions? What if your investigation is the only thing standing between the Saturn mission and another disaster?"
They stood together in the morning light, two people whose lives had become entangled with questions larger than themselves. Outside, the world continued its mundane rotation while somewhere in OrionX's launch facilities, technicians prepared to send humanity's most ambitious probe toward the edges of the solar system.
"I have to keep investigating," Eli said finally. "Even if it costs me my job, even if it makes me look crazy. I can't let what happened to Meridian happen again."
Noah nodded, understanding that this was bigger than careers or public reputation. This was about the weight of knowledge and the responsibility that came with seeing patterns that others missed or chose to ignore.
"Then we investigate," he said. "Together."
"Noah, you don't understand how dangerous this could be. If I'm right about there being people with the power to cover up murder—"
"Then you need someone watching your back who doesn't work for OrionX and doesn't have anything to lose." Noah's smile was grim but determined. "Besides, you're not the only one with reasons to want the truth about space disasters. I was supposed to be a pilot once, remember? I know what it means when the systems people trust with their lives turn out to be compromised."
Eli studied his face, seeing the resolution there, the willingness to step into danger for the sake of truth and justice. It was one of the things he loved most about Noah—the way he could transform from gentle pastry chef to fierce protector when the situation demanded it.
"Alright," Eli said. "But we do this carefully. No unnecessary risks, no heroic gestures. We gather evidence, we document everything, and we prepare to go public if necessary."
"Agreed."
They sealed the pact with a kiss that tasted like coffee and determination, unaware that their conversation had been monitored through sophisticated surveillance equipment installed in their apartment two days earlier by people who had good reason to fear what Eli Drake might discover about the intersection of corporate ambition and institutionalized murder.