He listened intently, and to show he truly was there was an occasional nod that accompanied her advice. There really wasn't a reason to disagree with what she was telling him, and obviously the sudden departure of people would hurt the others that knew them and felt a sense of reliance and trust. "You're right. Seems like you're making a habit of it." Under the circumstances, and realizing he didn't have to pretend to be the unfeeling and never hesitating persona he used in public, a tangible sense of pain cut through those words as his voice came close to cracking.
"It's always been about the future and we take care of our own. I'm stripped of my wings for at least a month or two, and it's going to be miserable for me confined to just a station and not being able to fight. But it'll force me to be way more involved in administration, and I'll be able to micromanage things and make sure people get what they need." With a sigh and a shake of the head, he suppressed the pain that crept in, ignoring the pinch that was both emotional and physical.
But despite his best efforts, this did the opposite of help, if anything it made the sorrow in his eyes more pronounced. "I'm not going to pretend like I won't miss some of them. There's a certain kind of bond that fighting tooth and nail creates, being each other's only ward against swift death. But it's over now, and I have to live with that. I can wish for things to be different, but that won't happen, and I can't change what I've done." The room grew quiet after that become he stopped speaking and broke eye contact, focusing on nothing in particular as the silence was broken by the hum and whirring of machines. He was miserable and there was no hiding it, and it seemed like he just accepted that this was how those chapters of his life would end.
