"If it has, then at least you're safe. Thank the gods for that much."

There's a strange vehemence in that sentiment, as if as long as that stays true, then nothing else will go wrong. It's the one thing that he has, really.
...Then again, he has no idea about the platoon left behind.

Still, Gordin just smiles warmly despite the mess of conflicting emotions writhing in his gut; if anyone would worry over him when there are bigger fish to fry, it would be Marth. "Thanks, sire. I just feel a bit out of sorts is all! And here I was worrying about you! Are you alright--"

Oh dear. Well that shatters his painfully cheerful facade all too easily; the seventh, just a bunch of kids...The thought brings bile to the back of his tongue.
Not them. Not Ryan, anyone but him.

"Yes-- yes, of course. R-Right away. Should we keep together or split up and cover more ground?"