"I'm being serious," Jyn replies, rolling her eyes at him, though she doesn't sound or bother trying to sound half as admonishing as she could. It's nice, at least, that he sounds so confident in her right off the bat. She doesn't think Cassian would pull punches with something like this; he would tell her if he didn't think she were qualified, or at least she hopes he would. That's part of why she wanted to talk about this with him before anything else. Maybe he's come to think better of her than she thinks she deserves, but he isn't so biased in her favor that he'd throw common sense aside completely.

She's mostly just worried that she's done so in agreeing to do this, no matter how much Lincoln's faith in her means. There's every chance it's dangerously naïve to think that she might be capable of this at all.

Taking the plate from him, she shoots him a quick smile despite her own tension, carrying it over to the table. It gives her a moment to try to collect her thoughts, too, at least attempting to get to the crux of what her concern here is. "I know I'm good at fighting," she says, slow and careful, though for her own benefit rather than his. "There's nothing I do better. I've never taught, but I can figure that much out. But the whole point is... basically to try to make sure they don't have lives like the one I did. I'm not exactly in a position to be a good influence on anyone."

She spears her chicken so she can start cutting it, but her voice is softer when she speaks again. "How am I supposed to help them when I couldn't help myself?"