"So they sent you out to die?" Krennic said, dryly. It's not hard to tell, from what she told him. "Your government seems impractical. We had the stormtrooper corps for that," he said, sipping his drink, waiting for the food. "They did the dirty work. The Navy did the rest."

His interest perked up at special abilities, though. After all, he's not in the Advanced Weapons Research Division without good reason. "Special abilities? Like what? Are you genetically engineered?" he paused, studying her again, this time with a scientist's eye. A weapons' engineer's eyes. "I created a squad of genetically engineered soldiers. We have yet to manage to create special abilities, but perhaps if the Emperor didn't kill all the Jedi..." he pressed his lips together, knowing that it's heresy to speak against the Emperor, and at the same time remembering someone else, who's...unclear if he's dead or alive, but clearly had special abilities. "Anyway, I know someone who had special abilities," he shuddered. "Not personally, anyway. I heard he chokes officers to death without touching them, if they displeased him in some way."

A pause fell between them, a serious one. "Yeah," Krennic said, hand instinctively going to his right shoulder. It was the one where Lyra had shot him. "It still hurts, sometimes. Needs a lot of bacta to be healed properly."

He was clearly glad for the topic change, and put down his drink on the table, pulling her closer by the waist. "You're plenty distracting enough for me, darling. That's the thing."