An interesting saying, but a relatable enough notion. Jaden idly wondered if it was a Cizerack expression, or something that Captain Quez had picked up somewhere else in the galaxy. He liked the imagery of it though: like the Captain had said, so many officers had embraced the notion of peacetime, of putting away their swords on the premise that they would no longer need them. Jaden wasn't naive enough to believe that even for a second. He was hardly an expert on the Empire - his view of the hierarchy had been from about as close to the bottom as you could get - but he remembered the orders they'd been given as Scout Troopers; remembered how relentless the Empire wanted to be, and how absolute they were in their viewpoint that anyone who differed from the status quo was unequivocally wrong. That had been the main reason that he and Amos Iakona had left the service all those years ago; that and a chronic inability to follow orders and respect authority, of course, though Jaden had always felt that the latter was more the fault of authority that didn't deserve respect than any personality defect of his own.

No, the Captain was right: the Alliance needed someone out there keeping their knives sharp, and paradoxically Jaden found himself presented with a better opportunity to do that with a Navy insignia on his arm instead of a Rogue Squadron one. They'd become little more than political puppets of late. The public didn't want their elite fighter squadron actively flying missions, because having the Rogues in action meant that there were things they needed to be concerned about, things that only the best could handle. It was a strange thing, public opinion: happier when the danger was moderate enough that mediocrity could take care of it.

"I may not know much about fleet tactics or naval operation, but I sure know how to take something sharp and pointy, and ram it up the Alliance's enemies."

He extended a hand towards the Cizerack Captain. "If you want me, sir, I'm your man."