She alters her stance, able to remember formations even in her hazy, dizzying state. She distributes the weight of her body between both feet, sliding one a bit more in front of the other, hands loosely hanging on either side - a fighter's stance. Someone capable, and ready, to get into a row, should it come to that. She can see the hesitance in his movements and the disquiet in his fluctuating gaze. She doubts he'll be the one to make the first move - but she'd been surprised before by those donning a more submissive position. They'd been some of her more formidable opponents, simply because she'd underestimated them.

A least worst option. At least he's realistic.

Her lips shudder to let forth another slew of degradation but instead, they tighten at the sound of her father's name. The muscles around her mouth contract and constrict and writhe. Her eyes flinch, the fire behind them now an inferno.

"How dare you drag my father into this." She doesn't remember those last moments on Eadu, she doesn't remember the message of love and pain in his hologram. All she remembers is the man who'd willingly left her - abandoned her - to join the Empire. "What gives you the right to even say his name?"