[Kylo stays quiet in his squatting position for a while, fiddling with the tech. He's not the expert here -- she is. But he smooths his fingers over it all the same. His muscles tighten reflexively as her tension bounces across the bond.

Softly, he offers:]

Like your parents came for you?

[Harsh, perhaps. But something that obviously needed saying. With it said, he stands and turns, tech still cradled in his bare hands.]

We are replaceable to them. There is a fair chance they have already assumed us dead.

[He taps the jewel in the choker around his neck uselessly.]

It's just us.