[That's something, better than nothing. His hand is warm, familiar; he doesn't close his fingers around hers for the moment. There's no real way to disagree with her-- they should have, she's right.
But it's not for lack of trying. He's as keenly aware of that as anyone, having gone over, back, again and again-- smuggling people off the outpost in the Falcon, playing games with chance cubes and unfamiliar decks of cards, placing unholy bets of flesh. Every roll he lost is going to haunt him til he's dead.]
We saved as many as we could.
[It's trite and it sounds like an excuse. Slowly, gently, he does fold his hand around hers, tries to keep from pointing out that they could have burned the place to its struts and it wouldn't change a thing, really-- scum like that just moves on, sets up shop somewhere else.
no subject
But it's not for lack of trying. He's as keenly aware of that as anyone, having gone over, back, again and again-- smuggling people off the outpost in the Falcon, playing games with chance cubes and unfamiliar decks of cards, placing unholy bets of flesh. Every roll he lost is going to haunt him til he's dead.]
We saved as many as we could.
[It's trite and it sounds like an excuse. Slowly, gently, he does fold his hand around hers, tries to keep from pointing out that they could have burned the place to its struts and it wouldn't change a thing, really-- scum like that just moves on, sets up shop somewhere else.
But she must know that already.]