Rex blinks slowly at her. She's never left her planet, save for on errands? That's not so different from him in theory - the only times that he's traveled is for his job - but he knows that he's had much more experience in practice than Anderson has ever had in theory. She'd carried herself so well that it never occurred to him that her experience could be so restricted.
Then again, he knows that most people spend their whole lives on a single planet. It's just something he's never been able to wrap his head around. It would be nice, he thinks, if he was living this way because he was pursuing his noble cause and had a place he could go back to anytime he liked, a place free from Imperials, where one could live a humble and fulfilling life. He could drop Anderson off there and allow her to pursue her own fortune as she wished, as all sentients deserve.
That's not the case.
"My ego isn't so great that I think you left for my sake alone," he says slowly. "This must have been a long time coming. But you saved me regardless. I'm not about to abandon you somewhere that might be safe without any resources to your name."
His ego also isn't so great that he thinks Anderson would want to remain with him for the forseeable future. He knows that he doesn't paint a flattering picture of what's left of the Republic. He doesn't have enough possessions for the ship to be considered messy, but what he has has fallen into disarray, and he's keenly aware of the fact that nothing here is as orderly as he'd like for it to be. Maybe it's just that he's accustomed to such a regimented existence that even this disorganization is shameful, but it doesn't paint a picture of a man who has his life together. Nor does, admittedly, being caught.
"We'll have to discuss the possibilities. Do some research. But you can stay here for as long as you need to. You don't have to make that decision so soon after you just left everything behind. At least sleep on it."
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Then again, he knows that most people spend their whole lives on a single planet. It's just something he's never been able to wrap his head around. It would be nice, he thinks, if he was living this way because he was pursuing his noble cause and had a place he could go back to anytime he liked, a place free from Imperials, where one could live a humble and fulfilling life. He could drop Anderson off there and allow her to pursue her own fortune as she wished, as all sentients deserve.
That's not the case.
"My ego isn't so great that I think you left for my sake alone," he says slowly. "This must have been a long time coming. But you saved me regardless. I'm not about to abandon you somewhere that might be safe without any resources to your name."
His ego also isn't so great that he thinks Anderson would want to remain with him for the forseeable future. He knows that he doesn't paint a flattering picture of what's left of the Republic. He doesn't have enough possessions for the ship to be considered messy, but what he has has fallen into disarray, and he's keenly aware of the fact that nothing here is as orderly as he'd like for it to be. Maybe it's just that he's accustomed to such a regimented existence that even this disorganization is shameful, but it doesn't paint a picture of a man who has his life together. Nor does, admittedly, being caught.
"We'll have to discuss the possibilities. Do some research. But you can stay here for as long as you need to. You don't have to make that decision so soon after you just left everything behind. At least sleep on it."