[ How can he even begin to answer that. Trying to explain everything that happened would mean... explaining everything. And that's too much, too much to talk through, too much to let himself feel.
He'd have to tell her about betraying Beckett, and he can't do that. He can't regret it, but it's the kind of old wound that scabs over and doesn't really heal. Better not to pick it open. ]
Most of the original crew didn't make it, [ he admits. Between the explosion and the mess with the Crimson Dawn he's already hinted at, maybe that's enough. Maybe not. ]
no subject
He'd have to tell her about betraying Beckett, and he can't do that. He can't regret it, but it's the kind of old wound that scabs over and doesn't really heal. Better not to pick it open. ]
Most of the original crew didn't make it, [ he admits. Between the explosion and the mess with the Crimson Dawn he's already hinted at, maybe that's enough. Maybe not. ]
Just us. Well, and Lando.
[ and the Falcon. ]