Finally the words cut. He's more or less content with his own inadequacy in most of the areas that would matter to Jyn--or much of anyone else. He's a competent pilot and a decent gambler with a few other hobbies that go on in his own head for the most part, and it'd be stupid to go through life expecting that to impress anybody. Besides, she's not herself. He's much more focused on getting her somewhere safe than taking offense.

But there are truths he's much less comfortable with, most of which truths hinge on Galen. Honestly, this is the sort of response he probably deserves without hallucinations in the equation. Fear of questions like how dare you and what gives you the right has driven him to noncommital, vague answers to all Jyn's inquiries about her father. Every moment with Galen feels stolen from the lost daughter, everything he knows about the man, every memory rightly belongs to someone else and someone better. To Cassian, he could babble about the easier memories, try to prove his rights to someone, if not himself. To Jyn, well, he wouldn't dare if not for this.

He really hopes she doesn't remember this when everything's fixed, as it certainly will be.

He's struck silent for a moment, unable to hide the abject misery that crosses his eyes. Then he swallows and rallies. He doesn't know what she's picturing, but he knows how long it's been since she saw Galen, knows he can't try to prove himself with any easy information. "Not... not much of one," he says, very soft, clearly wishing the earth itself would swallow him up if that'd honorably get him clear of this. "Least--least worst option. H-he had a message, I...Knew him a little, and that, there were--from inside a secret base with Imperial eyes everywhere, not a lot of choices..." Good, now he's as compromised as Jyn.