He could practically see the debate roll across her, had seen that look on many people's faces when they had to make the security clearance level choice. He worked in the intelligence department; he knew all about compartmentalization and secrets that prevented people from saying what it was that they had done, the accomplishments that they had managed. Even if they received awards, the reasons were often glossed, stamped with terms of 'bravery', 'fortitude', and 'courage in the face of unbeatable odds'.

He chuckled softly when she was going to hold her own, and he lifted his drink to his lips and gave her a little soldierly salute with it before having a sip of it.

"I understand," he replied easily and without any offense. "And your need to keep classified information to yourself is good. After all, what are the rules anymore with a dead planet, right? Best we uphold our duties of silence where we are required to."