Amara chuckled a little at his comment about alcoholics. It fair enough, she supposed. She'd been around a lot of Republic soldiers since the war had started, and most of them fancied a drink or two... or five, when they had the time off. She was a Jedi and a general, she was one of them, even if she was set apart in many ways. She spent a great deal of time around them, both on the field and off. She'd seen first hand how bad, or surprisingly good the advice of a drunk man could be.<br/><br/>She pouted when he called her a kid, even though the rest of what he'd said was a compliment.<span style="color: #FF0080">"I'm not a kid."</span>she replied, still pouting, although it was really more of a playful pout.<span style="color: #FF0080">"I'm not <span style="font-style: italic">that</span> much younger than you. Three, four years tops."</span>she added.<br/><br/>She was used to being called a kid. She was fairly young and she looked even younger, so it was a comment she heard often. She guessed it wasn't a bad thing, in that she would look young even when she was older. Still, it was a bit annoying at times because people tended to underestimate her and take her less seriously at times because of it. And it had almost caused problems when the war started and she had been put in charge of leading troops, most of whom were older than her. They had gotten over it quickly, of course, but it was still frustrating that it had been an issue at all.<br/><br/>She knew plenty about ships. Him, on the other hand, she knew almost nothing about, outside of what she had read from him thus far. She gathered that he was confident in his abilities, and he was alive after everything he'd been through, so that was a start. She didn't know about the whole drunk, sedated, handcuffed, and blindfolded thing, but it was rather amusing, at the very least. She did her best not to crack a smile, considering that he had no way of knowing she could read him like she did until she gave him a reason to, and she wasn't ready to jump off that bridge just yet.<br/><br/>She laughed at his declaration that he could get them through a republic blockade, even if he was drunk.<span style="color: #FF0080">"Oh, I have no doubt."</span>she replied, and it was hard to tell whether she was being a little patronizing, serious, or simply playful. Either way, she hadn't the heart to tell him that no Republic blockade would dare stand in her way. She was a Jedi Master, after all. But for now, that was neither here nor there.<br/><br/>It amused her somewhat that he seemed surprised by her answer. Evidently he hadn't expected her to actually agree. Then again, it seemed like he was surprised at himself for asking in the first place.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"Yeah, sure."</span>she followed him to his car, examining it as they approached. She thought that the car very much fit him. Like him, it appeared to have undergone a great deal of... modifications, if you will. She wondered... Was that intentional? A representation of sorts? Or perhaps unintentional, yet still a representation? She wouldn't bring it up, of course, but she still briefly wondered.<br/><br/>She got into the car once they reached it and then asked her question, immediately realizing that she had struck a cord with that comment. She almost visibly winced, although she barely managed not to, when the memories and the guilt almost instantly flooded his mind.<br/><br/>She was quiet, listening as he told the story behind the hat. Truth be told, she didn't know what to say in response. What was she supposed to say? It was... sad. It brought back memories of her own, which she immediately pushed away. More than anything, though, she felt bad for bringing it up and making him relive it. Causing him pain. What was worse was that she'd known it likely would and she'd asked anyways, to satisfy her own curiosity. And in the end, she still didn't have the answer to why he was here, although she dare not ask.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"I'm sorry."</span>was all she managed to say, her voice soft, barely above a whisper. Her blue eyes were soft, sympathetic, and apologetic. She wanted to apologize for her presumption, but couldn't bring herself to say anything else. They'd all lost people in this war. Some more than others. She was no exception, of course, but this wasn't about her, and she had no intention of making it about her.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"Yeah, sure. I don't get to eat it often, so why not."</span>she replied, managing to pull a smile back onto her face, erasing the hint of sadness she felt, lest anything break the nonchalant smile, the facade, for more than a moment.