[ It takes Galen a moment to even process what better should be, mind only slowly coming back to concerns like food or caffeine from its calculations in the trenches; he's been entering schematic information into a program that will give the Alliance likely outcomes for detonating the reactor module. One single-piloted craft, in and out; a single delay and that ship will probably go up with the Death Star, but--he hadn't laid an easy trap, he knows that.
So. Better. Better could certainly be said for not bleeding out in the rain back down on Eadu. He almost smiles, a tipping corner of that down-turned mouth; in resting position Jyn's does the same. His daughter, after 15 years, is only barely more a known quantity than Captain Andor himself, but the glances that almost, almost past between them and don't quite catch...he imagines he would recognize those, if Lyra had ever been anything but direct, precise as a laser.
Speaking of direct. He's discovering some of that is still left to him, as long as he'd obfuscated and equivocated and delayed-- ]
And when I outlive my usefulness? Will I be worse then?
[ A mild inquiry, not accusatory or even really directed at Cassian. The young man just seems like he might be high enough on the chain of command to know, and truthfully--Galen doesn't have any expectations of a long life here. The only mercy he'll ask for is time with Jyn, just long enough for her to know--he'd loved her, never any less any second they were apart. That of all the terrible mistakes he's made he would make them all over again to know any of them had kept her safe.
But none of that is, he suspects, up to Cassian. Galen finally notices the provisions he's brought along and takes the coffee, at least, blows on it before poking around for whatever passes for a nice watery milk substitute, if one is to be had. ]
[ There is a watery milk substitute, in fact, and Cassian draws the man's attention to it with a small gesture, considering his answer carefully before opening his mouth. ]
You won't be here, should someone decide to make that decision and I become aware of it. For that matter, neither will your daughter.
[ Cassian says it with firm simplicity and yet there is very little that is simple about what he is implying. Yet, he's certain of it, and has even begun considering just where and how he'd do it.
There's no reason, in his mind, to stay if that is what the Rebellion has come to. Assassinating those who come to them looking for help. Yes, Galen went to Saw, not to the Council...but there is the fact that the difference between Saw and the organized Resistance is in varying shades of grey, and Cassian is tired of that shade growing darker with each passing moment.
He's certain he can get them off-world, set them up with a resources, and help them disappear. What happens after that? He has no idea. ]
The gesture is appreciated, small as it is--maybe that's why, actually, so small a concession between two people. His life has been for so long directed by work on a grand, apocalyptic scale little kindnesses loom large. "Thank you." A little tip of his head, the gesture reserved. "I've never been able to make myself like the taste."
This is as much because he needs a moment as anything, hands steady in shuffling around coffee additives. "She must have made quite an impression, if you care for her so quickly."
He's pretty sure, because it seems sensible, Cassian could have the kindest heart of all life everywhere, and even he would think twice about simply allowing the Known Imperial Collaborator, the one whose work was the heart of the Death Star, to go free without consequence. But to let Jyn go, to have the compassion not to leave her alone again ...that, yes. He can understand.
"It's terrible stuff," Cassian admits, because it is the honest truth, but it's the best of what they have unfortunately. Terrible stuff. Completely unsurprising, that, and Cassian thinks with a vague air of unease that the man must be used to better than this. "I'm sorry we don't have anything else."
She must have made quite an impression and Cassian thinks of the way she spun when she knocked several Stormtroopers to the ground, and he thinks of the look on her face after she'd seen the message from her father and he thinks this is an understatement. He would rather hedge, oh he would rather, but he feels he owes this man an explanation.
Or several.
"She deserves family." He nods, mouth pressed into a thin line. "And peace if she wants it."
Galen wants to be able to speak to how big an If that might be, but--as he opens his mouth he realizes he has no idea. If she's like him, who had wanted, at the end of the day, to simply be left alone to sink with both hands into his work, the idea that the universe could be a better place, or like her mother, who never stopped fighting. Or like Saw, or nothing like any of them. Herself, built from the pieces of what those who abandoned her left behind.
It pains him to think that he's one of those people, but no matter how little he had wanted to leave her, he is. Now he has the chance to make up for that, so it's that that is the If. If Jyn wants, he'll try. He'll spend the rest of his life trying.
So. "She does," he says, echoes simply, without qualifiers it doesn't need. "Whether with me or not, that is for her to say." He stirs his coffee, which...is a sort of blackly funny irony, that of course, yes, even on the remote little outpost that was Eadu, the Empire could afford the best, and yet, this terrible stuff tastes better than anything he'd had in their employ.
"I'm sure it is." The answer comes quickly, easily; he knows, without a doubt, that if he had taken that shot Jyn would have ended him and while it would have been fitting it isn't what happened at all; this is the reality of the situation, that he cares for a woman so intently that he will turn his back on the life he's known, the man that brought him to the Resistance, first in small gestures (not pulling the trigger) to larger ones like this.
Plotting escape from Yavin, if and when it becomes a necessity.
"I don't know her that well." He isn't even sure they're friends, right now, or at the very least he's unsure what she thinks of him at this point in time. "But she does love you, even though she feels...abandoned."
Galen really can't pretend she hasn't been, even if it's not what he wanted. Even if he would make excuses to spare himself. "Her mother was meant to be with her," he explains regardless, perhaps wanting this stranger to think better of Lyra, rather than himself. "She tried to stop the Imperials taking me."
Sooooo Cassian can probably make a swell guess how that turned out. Meanwhile Galen's heart has twisted up all warm in his ribcage; that she should feel anything, after so long--even if she had hated him it would still be feeling.
That's...Cassian allows his mask to slip enough for Galen to see the little thundercloud of a frown that gathers at his brow, the way his shoulders go up and tense a little. It explains a lot, actually...namely why Jyn acts like an abandoned cat in the rain sometimes.
"I won't leave her again." It's not a protest, just ...fact. There is no air in space, Galen will stay by Jyn's side as long as she'll have him, provided she'll have him at all. He doesn't react much to the tension; if it comes from a place of judgment that's well-deserved; if not, it isn't any of his business to do the judging.
There's a moment of silence, though it lacks awkwardness, only an air of contemplation as Galen ponders the oily surface of his coffee. "If she decides her place is here now, it--would be fitting. It would have made Lyra happy."
Cassian shakes his head at that. "She has no interest in the Resistance and no reason to stay." He wouldn't ask her to, for one thing, it...presumes so much and gives her so little in the end. Stay with the people who wanted me to assassinate your father, yes, he can just imagine the black eye he'd end up with after that conversation.
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So. Better. Better could certainly be said for not bleeding out in the rain back down on Eadu. He almost smiles, a tipping corner of that down-turned mouth; in resting position Jyn's does the same. His daughter, after 15 years, is only barely more a known quantity than Captain Andor himself, but the glances that almost, almost past between them and don't quite catch...he imagines he would recognize those, if Lyra had ever been anything but direct, precise as a laser.
Speaking of direct. He's discovering some of that is still left to him, as long as he'd obfuscated and equivocated and delayed-- ]
And when I outlive my usefulness? Will I be worse then?
[ A mild inquiry, not accusatory or even really directed at Cassian. The young man just seems like he might be high enough on the chain of command to know, and truthfully--Galen doesn't have any expectations of a long life here. The only mercy he'll ask for is time with Jyn, just long enough for her to know--he'd loved her, never any less any second they were apart. That of all the terrible mistakes he's made he would make them all over again to know any of them had kept her safe.
But none of that is, he suspects, up to Cassian. Galen finally notices the provisions he's brought along and takes the coffee, at least, blows on it before poking around for whatever passes for a nice watery milk substitute, if one is to be had. ]
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You won't be here, should someone decide to make that decision and I become aware of it. For that matter, neither will your daughter.
[ Cassian says it with firm simplicity and yet there is very little that is simple about what he is implying. Yet, he's certain of it, and has even begun considering just where and how he'd do it.
There's no reason, in his mind, to stay if that is what the Rebellion has come to. Assassinating those who come to them looking for help. Yes, Galen went to Saw, not to the Council...but there is the fact that the difference between Saw and the organized Resistance is in varying shades of grey, and Cassian is tired of that shade growing darker with each passing moment.
He's certain he can get them off-world, set them up with a resources, and help them disappear. What happens after that? He has no idea. ]
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This is as much because he needs a moment as anything, hands steady in shuffling around coffee additives. "She must have made quite an impression, if you care for her so quickly."
He's pretty sure, because it seems sensible, Cassian could have the kindest heart of all life everywhere, and even he would think twice about simply allowing the Known Imperial Collaborator, the one whose work was the heart of the Death Star, to go free without consequence. But to let Jyn go, to have the compassion not to leave her alone again ...that, yes. He can understand.
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She must have made quite an impression and Cassian thinks of the way she spun when she knocked several Stormtroopers to the ground, and he thinks of the look on her face after she'd seen the message from her father and he thinks this is an understatement. He would rather hedge, oh he would rather, but he feels he owes this man an explanation.
Or several.
"She deserves family." He nods, mouth pressed into a thin line. "And peace if she wants it."
Big if, that.
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It pains him to think that he's one of those people, but no matter how little he had wanted to leave her, he is. Now he has the chance to make up for that, so it's that that is the If. If Jyn wants, he'll try. He'll spend the rest of his life trying.
So. "She does," he says, echoes simply, without qualifiers it doesn't need. "Whether with me or not, that is for her to say." He stirs his coffee, which...is a sort of blackly funny irony, that of course, yes, even on the remote little outpost that was Eadu, the Empire could afford the best, and yet, this terrible stuff tastes better than anything he'd had in their employ.
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Plotting escape from Yavin, if and when it becomes a necessity.
"I don't know her that well." He isn't even sure they're friends, right now, or at the very least he's unsure what she thinks of him at this point in time. "But she does love you, even though she feels...abandoned."
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Sooooo Cassian can probably make a swell guess how that turned out. Meanwhile Galen's heart has twisted up all warm in his ribcage; that she should feel anything, after so long--even if she had hated him it would still be feeling.
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Because she was, wasn't she.
"She deserves family. Especially after all this."
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There's a moment of silence, though it lacks awkwardness, only an air of contemplation as Galen ponders the oily surface of his coffee. "If she decides her place is here now, it--would be fitting. It would have made Lyra happy."
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"So I don't think that's likely."