Deskyl starts signing, but clearly thinks better of it and starts over.

    "She is, ma'am. Sith are more used to this kind of thing, she says."

"...being used to it doesn't mean it's any less intrinsically horrible to experience, I'd think."

    "She says it is in some ways, ma'am. She knows how to think about it and what to do, so she doesn't feel helpless, even if the first-order effects of the situation are the same."

"I suppose so.  ...It sucks that that's something that someone would - become inured to, though."

    "She says 'well, maybe someday the galaxy will be nice enough it won't be needed', ma'am."

Deskyl reaches over to give Diana a little squeeze around the waist.

"mhm....hopefully."

Diana feels like the hugs should go to Deskyl, but...she's not complaining.

Cheek-kiss?

"mm..."

She's not flinching away or anything, she likes being kissed, but, she appears rather suddenly lost in gloomy contemplation.

"there's so much galaxy, though, and only so many who bother to even think about caring for any of it, let alone all of it.  so much easier to destroy than to build something good..."

    "She says she bets there are more who do than you might think, ma'am, or who would if they had more of a chance to. And...

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward   
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into   
the round jubilance of peach.

It doesn't all have to be grand gestures, she says, ma'am."

[source]

"...yeah.  yeah, you're not wrong."

She leans into Deskyl, rather limply but with any volition.

Deskyl holds her, gently petting her arm where her hand happens to fall.

Diana - catches and - tentatively, allows herself to emit a quiet keening whine, as she recovers enough energy to cry and also be somewhat aggressively clingy.

This calls for proper hugs, which can of course be provided.

Oh, good, that's good, that's, good, that's...She is having Emotions and they are Very Much and being hugged tight...helps, somewhat.  ...The crying is now accompanied by hiccupy sobs.

Deskyl will hold her tight and kiss her forehead and rub her back, for as long as she needs.

That's...it might be a little while.  There's...a lot of it, built up, and the dam's broken, now, so it's all coming out at once.  But, eventually...Eventually, the tears have been shed, and Diana has time for a question that's been niggling away at her ever since it formed, though she's not stopping cuddle-time.

"So...you've been promoted?"

It's not like the time it takes is surprising; Deskyl knows how it is.

"Yeah," she answers. "Jari Pradnakt - Dusk. Tave doroti," brief headshake, "the droid, Daisy."

"Congratulations; you certainly deserve one.  ...what prompted it?  That scumbag who ran into my fist?"

    "Yes ma'am; Lord Pradnakt delivered the killing strike, which is the relevant factor."

"Ahh.  Interesting.  Let me know if you want me to save you a Darth, then."

"...Probably not actually doing that, but it seemed funny when I thought of the line."

Chuckle.

    "She says 'please don't try it', ma'am."

"I am but a humble Knight, I know my limits.

"...Well.  If I'd ever trained a Padawan they'd probably have slapped me with 'Master' by now - but that's not a thing I'm likely to do, in this line of work."

Squeeze sign sign sign.

    "She says she wouldn't mind, ma'am, but it would certainly complicate things."

Diana giggles, a bit weakly.  "It sure would, wouldn't it?"

Nuzzle.

    "She might want to take an apprentice sometime, she says, ma'am. Not soon, but someday, if she finds someone she likes."