Miles quiets at that, sensing the shift from tactics to just ... emotion. It's strange to behold; he's not sure he's ever seen his grandfather like this before, even in his blackest moods. There'd been no call for it in his time. Not at this level of depth, not at this level of raw emotion. He's witnessing something intensely private here, isn't he?

So he stays silent a moment. Sympathy wells up in him like water, filling him up and spilling over. His grandfather has lost Sonia, maybe permanently. Hell, for all Miles knows, it is permanent. This is a new branch of the timeline for him. He doesn't know the outcome ... "We'll get her back," he says thickly. Swallowing back sympathy so viscous he nearly chokes on it. "We've Byerly. Any he's recruited or gained sympathy from. And Sonia is her own best weapon against them." If they allow her even the slightest leeway, then surely she'll charm anyone she comes into contact with.

A moment's hesitation. Then, he bows his head. "I'll do anything I can as well. There are many among the outsiders who'll do the same." Until death, capture - anything, dammit.