“I’ve done a lot of thinking in the past year,” Fi said. “Yes, there’s plenty wrong. I know I deserve more than this. I want a nice girl and a life and I don’t want to die. And I know I’m being used, thanks. But I’m a soldier, and I’m also Mandalorian, and my strength is always going to be what I carry around inside me, my sense of who and what I am. Even if the rest of the galaxy sinks in its own filth, I’ll die without compromising my honor.” He drained his glass and started on the next one that was lined up on the bar. He wasn’t that fond of the taste, but he believed in being polite.
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