She relays it so calmly, even as the Voice makes every syllable crackle and spit. And for an instant, in a brief flash, it's more than that: Curtis can feel the broken aircraft careening underfoot, smell the rusty air of Helium tinged with smoke, see someone hurtling toward him as he, as Dejah, falls --

He catches his breath. Shakes his head once, sharply, in an effort to clear it.

"I'm sorry." Low, and flat. "That never should've happened to you."