He sees the trust in Poe's eyes, in the cant of his smile. He wonders what it would be like to trust anyone and anything that wholeheartedly.
That, there, is why he is the one for this kind of mission and Poe isn't. Cassian doesn't trust, but he doesn't rest, either. He never stops fighting. His flame has gone from embers to bonfires and back again, but it's never gone out. He's exactly the person you need if you want someone dead at any cost -- at all cost.
Vaped a planet. It actually takes Cassian a second to understand. He never thought of Starkiller as a planet. Just as another creation, another weapon, like the Death Star.
He lets his eyes shift back to Poe, and he gives a slight, fractional nod. Fair point. Still: those were soldiers. They were asking for it. Not civilians (who may, to be fair, also have been asking for it).
"Not adventure," says Cassian. "That's not what I meant. If you wanted adventure, there are other ways. If you wanted to put yourself in between the First Order and the people out here, this is it." But Poe still chose this. He chose it because he knew the fight with the First Order could get into the Core, because he knew that this was everyone's fight long before the Republic was willing to admit it. He still could have stayed away. Cassian couldn't. This fight has infected him. He breathes it; it's in his blood; it's a shadow in his eyes.
"But you're right," he murmurs. "We're a long way from a fair fight."
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That, there, is why he is the one for this kind of mission and Poe isn't. Cassian doesn't trust, but he doesn't rest, either. He never stops fighting. His flame has gone from embers to bonfires and back again, but it's never gone out. He's exactly the person you need if you want someone dead at any cost -- at all cost.
Vaped a planet. It actually takes Cassian a second to understand. He never thought of Starkiller as a planet. Just as another creation, another weapon, like the Death Star.
He lets his eyes shift back to Poe, and he gives a slight, fractional nod. Fair point. Still: those were soldiers. They were asking for it. Not civilians (who may, to be fair, also have been asking for it).
"Not adventure," says Cassian. "That's not what I meant. If you wanted adventure, there are other ways. If you wanted to put yourself in between the First Order and the people out here, this is it." But Poe still chose this. He chose it because he knew the fight with the First Order could get into the Core, because he knew that this was everyone's fight long before the Republic was willing to admit it. He still could have stayed away. Cassian couldn't. This fight has infected him. He breathes it; it's in his blood; it's a shadow in his eyes.
"But you're right," he murmurs. "We're a long way from a fair fight."