“...once my mother weaned me and I was able to walk, they flew me to a distant camp, and chucked me into the mud to see if I would live or die.'

'They would have been smarter throwing you off a cliff,' Mor said, snorting.'

'Oh definitely,' Cassian, said, that grin going razor-sharp. 'Especially because when I was old and strong enough to go back to the camp I'd been born in, I learned those pricks worked my mother until she died.'

Again, that silence fell- different this time. The tension and simmering anger of a unit who had endured so much, survived so much... and felt each other's pain keenly.”