“Looking to join rebel command, Undersee?” Gale asked incredulously, eyebrows raised as he finally shoveled some of the soup into his mouth. Unsurprisingly, it tasted just as bland as usual. Nothing like army food to make him miss home. His mother could take even the most meager options and turn it into a dish worth bragging about. Idly he wondered if he should have tried learning more of her recipes before leaving.
Too little, too late, of course. There were spices native to Alderaan that none of them would ever taste again, so what good would it have done? Besides, Gale hadn’t joined the alliance to cook.
“Never figured you for the commanding type,” he continued, watching the soup churn in his bowl. “So you’re still in training, then?”
It wasn’t meant to sound condescending, just as his earlier comment hadn’t been meant to insult, even if that was how their old relationship would color it. He’d simply been working with the higher-ups a lot lately, working out logistics and weapons tests. They needed to find a way to get rid of the Death Star once and for all, and they knew Gale had a personal stake in it. If anyone could find a way, they figured it could be him.
The less Madge thought about Alderaan, the better she managed to cope. She hated that she was so weak minded that merely the thought of home broke her. And with Gale here, it was even more difficult to push those thoughts further back in her mind. She pursed her lips and watched him churn the soup in his bowl. Her own meal was now long forgotten, though she didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.
“It’s the most help I can offer, I wouldn’t exactly excel out in the field.”
She glanced away from him and out into the room of people, her lips turning into a frown. “Hopefully I’ll be done with my training soon- a couple more weeks, they’re saying.”
“Anyone can be a soldier with the right training,” Gale replied, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he took another bite. The same, of course, did not apply to command positions. Not everyone had the stomach to lead, and even fewer had judgment good enough to do it well. Loathe as he was to admit it, Madge’s position on Alderaan may have given her exactly what was needed to pull it off.
Still, he never would have expected her to take an active role in the rebellion. He’d have figured she’d hide away somewhere far away from the worst of the war, where she could hole up and try to forget everything that had happened. It would have been easy, being the only surviving member of her family.
But Gale knew if he’d been in her shoes, he might have taken the Emperor head on, all by himself. And again he remembered that things weren’t that simple.
“Well,” he said, bowing his head sardonically, “congratulations in advance, Commander-in-Training. Before you know it, you’ll be in charge of your own squadron. Do them a favor and try not to get them killed.”
"But not anyone can be the soldier needed, despite training."
Madge knew she didn't have the composition to remain useful in the field. Spy work, perhaps. But even that was questionable. Leading others, however, was something she was bit more at home with- despite her quiet demeanor. The scorn and mockery of her didn't go unnoticed- her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
"Mmm. Don't be too bitter, Gale. I'm sure once I'm through with training you won't ever have to see me again," she assured him, her tone soft but equally bitter.
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Too little, too late, of course. There were spices native to Alderaan that none of them would ever taste again, so what good would it have done? Besides, Gale hadn’t joined the alliance to cook.
“Never figured you for the commanding type,” he continued, watching the soup churn in his bowl. “So you’re still in training, then?”
It wasn’t meant to sound condescending, just as his earlier comment hadn’t been meant to insult, even if that was how their old relationship would color it. He’d simply been working with the higher-ups a lot lately, working out logistics and weapons tests. They needed to find a way to get rid of the Death Star once and for all, and they knew Gale had a personal stake in it. If anyone could find a way, they figured it could be him.
no subject
“It’s the most help I can offer, I wouldn’t exactly excel out in the field.”
She glanced away from him and out into the room of people, her lips turning into a frown. “Hopefully I’ll be done with my training soon- a couple more weeks, they’re saying.”
no subject
Still, he never would have expected her to take an active role in the rebellion. He’d have figured she’d hide away somewhere far away from the worst of the war, where she could hole up and try to forget everything that had happened. It would have been easy, being the only surviving member of her family.
But Gale knew if he’d been in her shoes, he might have taken the Emperor head on, all by himself. And again he remembered that things weren’t that simple.
“Well,” he said, bowing his head sardonically, “congratulations in advance, Commander-in-Training. Before you know it, you’ll be in charge of your own squadron. Do them a favor and try not to get them killed.”
no subject
Madge knew she didn't have the composition to remain useful in the field. Spy work, perhaps. But even that was questionable. Leading others, however, was something she was bit more at home with- despite her quiet demeanor. The scorn and mockery of her didn't go unnoticed- her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
"Mmm. Don't be too bitter, Gale. I'm sure once I'm through with training you won't ever have to see me again," she assured him, her tone soft but equally bitter.