"I spent years fighting a rebellion," he says. "And I've spent a few years on this ship, convincing people you're worth it. And guess what?" He gestures up towards the Barge. "At least some of them agree with me, including the guy who decided I was worth bringing back. And you, too. So don't give me this 'nothing matters' crap. Don't make me have to argue that my dying actually meant something."
Luke has never had to ask himself that. He wonders if he should have, or what it means that he hasn't. He's not sure he has a good enough answer for Bill.
"I guess," he says after a long moment, "because, if I'm worth it, I have to believe other people are. I'm no different from them."
"That's not what I mean," Luke says, shaking his head. "Sure, I'm different. But I'm not better. I'm not worth more. Being different or better or worse at something doesn't change that equation. Because if it does, there's no place to stop. No balance you can possibly find, no math that makes sense."
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"I spent years fighting a rebellion," he says. "And I've spent a few years on this ship, convincing people you're worth it. And guess what?" He gestures up towards the Barge. "At least some of them agree with me, including the guy who decided I was worth bringing back. And you, too. So don't give me this 'nothing matters' crap. Don't make me have to argue that my dying actually meant something."
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Bill's grip on his own wrist tightens, and he stares back at the ship like he's trying to bore a hole in it.
"YOU DESERVE BETTER. YOU DESERVE PEOPLE TO TREAT YOU BETTER, BUT THEY WON'T."
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"I know," he says gently. "Doing what's right doesn't always make people like you. And that's okay. What matters to me is what you think."
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"WHY ARE PEOPLE EVEN WORTH IT, TO YOU?"
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"I guess," he says after a long moment, "because, if I'm worth it, I have to believe other people are. I'm no different from them."
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Bill drums his fingers.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TALK YOU INTO THIS, I KNOW."
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He stops, expression softening.
"But... thank you. I think."