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"It's extremely public, and I've been recruiting people to the Alliance since I was a teenager. Don't hold back on my account." She really doesn't mind talking about it; life under the Empire is just a fact to Leia, the way things have always been. If her slow, growing realization throughout adolescence about the need for a revolution had been an internal journey, it's by now a conclusion she has set in stone inside her, unshakeable.
"Can you give me the abridged version? What does either side want, what are you fighting for, and are you here to make sure you get it?"
"No, I don't need the Admiral to win my wars for me." That would be such a hollow victory, when the Alliance has fought tooth and nail for every meter they've won. "The Empire is a cruel dictatorship propping up an evil man that exploits common people for his own power. I'm part of the Alliance to Restore the Republic -- what we want is a return to democracy and self-governance, and to diplomacy rather than conquest."
Leaning back in her chair, she cradles her mug and crosses her legs. This counts as normal tea time conversation for Leia. Obviously she's a biased source, but there's an easy confidence to her account that makes it clear she really has been recruiting people for years.
"What the Empire wants is for the whole galaxy to fall under their control specifically, and under humans more generally. Nothing is beyond them. Genocide, brainwashing, torture -- " Leia shakes her head. "That's just the start of their methods."
"Jesus. It almost seems like something you'd read about." Or maybe see a movie about! Who knows.
"Can't imagine what it must be like to be in the middle of that."
She's sure to catch him at these kinds of times, honestly. He likes the quiet of night, even from his own cabin. He's drinking and reading a novella.
Sure am. Want a drink?
A pause. She should probably warn him.
I talked to Jake.
Come on. Come tell me in person.
He's pretty sure it wasn't a nice conversation, and he's not getting the details over text, thank you.
“I really know how to pick ‘em,” she announces. “Every fucking time.”
He's up and waiting for her, so when she comes in looking like she's been crying he's right there with an arm around her shoulders.
"Do I have to go shoot him while you have a drink?"
"It's fine, I'll get over it," she says. "He was just dodgy about it, got pissed at me for being pissed, kept throwing back drinks––ugh. You knew about the wife, right?"
He doesn't even wince. He knows what he told Jake to talk to her about.
"I did. From the way you talked about the others, I figured you couldn't have known. You end it?"
He walks her over to the rickety little table and sits her down.
"Oh, no! He went off about his feelings for me and then told me to figure my shit out... like I'm the one who forgot to mention a wife."
Dead or not.
She shakes her head.
"And there's no way he forgot. We had enough conversations that could have brushed up against it. There's no chance it didn't cross his mind."
His allegiance absolutely lies with her, but truth be told, he does understand Jake. It's why he'd known to go to him in the first place to give him this advice.
Well. 'Advice'.
"He told you about his feelings, huh?"
He listens to that whole story, then gives her a confused frown.
"Tess, you know I like you and all, but I have no idea what the hell is actually bothering you. That he cares about you and never told you?"
"That, and forgetting to tell me things he's told other people, and not being able to get through a hard conversation without drinking, and doing that bullshit thing where he walks out because I'm not jumping through hoops," she replies, a little sharp. "I'm really just sick of that."
He holds up a hand to hold her off - he really didn't mean to piss her off with that.
"I got it. I hear you. Honestly, I'm surprised he told you as much as he did. Men like him," men like Arthur, "ain't used to talking so frankly about what they feel."
I'll ask her. But don't get your hopes up, pal.
He realizes that. He runs his fingers through his beard and considers it.
"No. You're right. Part of that's likely just because it's you, but some of it might come from nearly dyin'. From the disease, I mean, not some stray bullet."
There's a big difference.
"No use keepin' it in. Not talking just got me in more trouble."
"Wouldn't have liked Joel if that wasn't the type of man you liked," he agrees, recalling meeting him.
"I think everyone here's careful to share, at some point. Don't mind tellin' people I was an outlaw, but not too many know I came here on death's doorstep."
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