Will shakes his head, but he's still grinning. “I can show you pictures,” he offers. He unzips the neck of his flight suit just enough to dig his phone out; he used to only wear it around his neck in combat situations at home, but he's taken to wearing it like that all the time, here, if he doesn't leave it at home. He flicks it on, the holoprojection a neat little square of light in the dim light. He flips through the older pictures quickly, enough to catch glimpses of a fluffy white dog, of curly hair and a warm smile, but he doesn't slow down until he gets to pictures of a half-disassembled mechanoid suit with a couple perplexed fellow rebels clambering around on it. “We didn't have a tech on site,” he says dryly. The tried diagnosing the problem via photos – it hadn't gone very well.