His face had lines — lines that shouldn't exist on a face like his. I had heard stories from other pilots, talking of his rescues and missions that exceeded expectation, yet no one talked about the ones gone wrong. Even Po Dameron couldn't be the perfect pilot. What had he lost in all his time flying? A home, maybe a family? His eyes seemed to match his face well. Some would consider that a compliment; I don't believe he would. I didn't. Whatever he has been through has been looked upon by those old eyes.
"Staring's never done me well. I don't suppose it's going to do you any good, either."
And there he is, never faltering in a genuine grin towards me. Despite the fact he's cut up and injured, he still manages to see a brightness in things I don't think I would bring myself to do.